#I did think he loved her in the same that she does him aka not really but yes

[autistic-britta-perry]

like Shiv's mean sometimes and emotionally stunted and that's basically it She's a cheater but he was fine with possibly cheating and it was only when he thought she'd do it too that he was like no so like sorry I don't really feel bad about that part. And then there's the 'I don't love you' thing and that's it! she didn't send him to prison!!! he got himself into trouble, he could've exposed it and he did not and then he offered himself and she was like strategically that'd be good and then he was hurt that she didn't save him He keeps saying he loves her and that he cares throughout the first seasons and people just buy that fully and think Shiv doesn't when she's the one who shows it through actions! and like I get up until beginning of s4 Tom not knowing that but whenever I read people who watch the show saying she doesn't love her or that it was only Shiv hurting him until the betrayal I get so mad

[shidoukanae]

*rereads Paris and Helene's second meeting for the nth time*

me every goddamn time: THEY HAVE SO MUCH CHEMISTRY HOW THE FUCK DO THEY HAVE THIS MUCH CHEMISTRY

It's so so so SO fun watching this entire meeting and how they both seem to constantly be in a little dance of sorts wherein Paris openly declares his interest in her and Helene keeps shutting him down ("You should come to Kylon. We won't overwork you the way your family does" -> "I don't have time to indulge in a life with people who don't think" -> "well that's good because i think about you so much i can't sleep"-> "and? get to the point already". like jfc he's not fucking vague about this At All).

But the best part is, for offstandish and disinterested as Helene is towards Paris (with her words cold and blunt towards him), it's really hard to deny that there isn't some interest on her part without there really being interest on her part (which is. confusing i know but. in context. oh. my god. she's a queerplatonic icon around Paris and i adore her for it)

My favorite thing to see in this scene is the way Paris reaches for Helene's face, casually brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek and through her hair (while commenting on how being this close to her makes his instincts spike with unease), and the moment Helene downs him she does the same exact gesture to him, lifting up his chin and brushing the back of her fingers against his face similarly. Which. Wow. I need more female antagonists to do this shit it is literally so cool to see.

Also the way Helene and Paris constantly are gauging each other is so neat. The way Helene tells Paris to "not long for what he can't have" (i.e. herself) is so neat. The way Paris is clear about his interest in Helene and she in turn matches that interest by toying with him in a way she's done with no one else in the cast is just. there is sooooo much there between them and i greatly enjoy whatever the fuck kind of chemistry it is they share because it is literally the epitome of what i crave in ships

[ram-bles]

Hello! Is it okay if you can write mouthwashing headcannons of how the crew members would react to the reader randomly attacking them with kisses? If you want to stick with one person, then I was thinking, Anya? (If you want someone else, then that's okay too!)

Have a great day/afternoon/night

tulpar crew x gn!reader

smooch attack headcanons.

⚠️ pushy jimmy. everything else is chill. not proof read.

[note: sorry I've been out for long everyone! I had some stuff come up but I'm doing some progress on the things you guys send! I hope you enjoy these imagines]

[ Anya ]

🟦 giggling mess if done right

🟦 if you do it, please don't jump her.

🟦 sth like swooping in first before kissing her. small signals that it's you.

Her eyes were glued onto the shelf, searching for that one book she needed. It was usually there. Did I misplace it? Her thoughts were immediately silenced by a hand taking hers, swift yet carefully. Her body tensed up by instinct but when she realized it was you, it had her giggling as you planted soft kisses on her knuckles. You raise the book that you hid from your back while you entered. "Sorry! I was reading it earlier." "I don't mind at all, don't worry." Anya shakes her head with a smile and cups your cheek and you beam. That was one of the small signals she gave that says she's fine with this. She brushes your cheek for a moment as you lean into her touch, then you feel her carefully tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. You immediately wrap your arms around her waist and lean in for a kiss- kisses. Lots of them. You start off on her cheek, then her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, then a peck to her lips and she was softly laughing the whole time, both from the affection and how ticklish it was.

[ Curly ]

🩹 Not a fan of PDA either. you gotta do it when you both get privacy.

🩹 So you do it with every chance you get.

You spot Jimmy lingering back at the lounge without your beloved Captain? You're beelining towards the cockpit. Alone in the kitchen? You're on him. Hallways? Oh, Captai—in! Even if he scolds and chastises you for it, he loves it. He does the same anyways. One time though, you were both in the lounge reading together when you eventually got bored. You peek at your partner who was heavily invested at the article when suddenly the item gets pushed away and replaced by you on his lap. Before he could even warn you, you grabbed his face and showered him with kisses. Curly gives in and hugs you, it should be alright since no one's here, right? He'll let it slide for now. When you part, he had a stupid grin on his face. "Darling, have I ever taught you how to aim?" With a chuckle, you shake your head and you both lean in for a kiss. "How does a lesson tonight in your quarters sound, Captain?" "Perhaps we could reschedule for an earlier time. How does right now sound?" "Perfect."

[ Daisuke ]

🌺 Usually, it's him who does the guerilla attacks. It's a little game you guys play. The more of a surprise kiss streak you have, the better.

🌺 So far he's on the lead, but not for long.

You had to borrow Anya's lipstick for this. Carefully planned this siege (it only took like 10 minutes). Daisuke had just finished doing inventory, Swansea's back in utility and you're by the storage closet by the hallway and you hear familiar footsteps. In approximately 5.0224 seconds, your target is going to pass by the said storage room aka your location right now. You brace for it, nervous. You push your doubts that it was another person for now and just go for it. Slamming your partner onto the wall as he squeals, you shut the door and yank on the string to turn the light on. It was dim but you could see the look on his face and you burst out laughing. "Dude, I thought we had some psycho hiding up in here! I thought I was gonna die!" "Yeah, you will." "Fuck you mean by tha— mpFfF?!" Your lips smash against his and you could tell some of the lipstick smeared. His awkward tense pose loosens up and his hands move away from the walls to your hips as he returns it and you part as he tries not to chase after you. "Got ya' good, huh?" "Whaaaaat?" He drawls out with a voice crack, looking away. "I don't know man, you gotta do that again so we can find out." With a pffsh, you start kissing him everywhere, his beauty marks, his lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, probably even on his collar. Next thing you know, you both pop out the storage room, Swansea looking like he almost had a heart attack while he stares at the both of you in judgement. Daisuke had a lovestruck expression while his face, neck, and shirt collars were filled with lipstick marks and yours were smudged on your lips.

[ Jimmy ]

🔪 he hates it. he likes it so much he hates it.

🔪 prefers doing it himself though.

Shitty day as always. He wasn't in the mood and he can't bother you which made his day a whole lot worse. It's stupid, why was he so dependent over your attention. It should be the other way around. Once you were done with your shift, you decided to find the co-pilot. At his usual thinking spot, chewing on a toothpick. God, he needs his nicotine. You were silent, only walking towards his way, too busy with his thoughts to even notice you. Not until you plant a kiss on his cheek and his head whips to your direction, almost bumping heads. You smile and peck his lips this time. "You okay?" Were you pitying him? "Fuckin' peachy." Suddenly, you were pressed up against the wall, caged in-between his arms and you look up at him confused. He flicks the toothpick somewhere and he starts peppering your face with kisses. It was all soft at first, not until he nips at your lip before kissing you roughly. Your lips would probably bruise later on.

[ Swansea ]

🦢 this can be interpreted as romantic/familial honestly

🦢 he seems annoyed by it but in reality, he thinks it's sweet. never admitting it though.

Wake rock was softly playing in the background. You were busy cleaning up in the utility room while Swansea was repairing some wires when he suddenly flinches and cusses loudly, shaking his hand. He got grounded. Now he's grumbling over where Daisuke was when he needed him to do the work. Probably needed to release his frustrations elsewhere by light-heartedly shit talking his intern. You knew he didn't mean it. Tilting your head curiously, you moved closer, peeking over his shoulder to watch him work for a moment. And just when he moves his hands away from the box, you hug him from the side and kiss his cheek repeatedly. "Jesus! Warn a man will ya'?!" "I'm done cleaning! I'll go on break now, boss!" "Yeah, yeah." He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he had a small smile on his face as he continued working. Seriously, who does this to their mentor? Kids these days.

[mywritersmind]

LOOKING GOOD - LN4

summary : fewtrell!reader <3 her brother leaves her alone with lando for less than five minutes and she manages to make her childhood friend blush.

listen up : no warnings!! a small blurb to get me back into writing bc i stopped for a day and am now lost.

word count : 634

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My brother doesn’t usually annoy me this much, but today he’s really making me angry. He said we would have a brother-sister day (aka we go out for lunch and shit talk while he pays) but I’m standing in a studio instead.

He’s talking to Lando who’s having photos done for a new LN4 drop or something. I check my phone again but am soon looking up again when I realize Lando and Max are now standing in front of me

“I’m gonna go change!” he throws me a hoodie, “I told you i’d get you free shit!” Max walks away as I eye the hoodie.

It’s the same dark green that Lando has on, but mine has a 4 on the chest and various little patches on the arms. I raise a brow at him but he talks first.

“Thought you’d like that one. You look good wearing my number.” I suck in a breath at his flirtatious tone. He’s got a mischievous smirk painted on his face as I rest my hands on the jacket.

“Did you do this to make up for not having the frat boy life you were destined for?” His smile doesn’t falter, just sits down next to me and rests his arm around the back of my chair.

“Sorry I've stolen Max away, today.” I can feel his fingers tap against the chair.

I sigh and shrug, “I get it. Best friend over his loving, stunning, iconic, caring, younger sister.”

Lando laughs a bit, turning his head away. When he does, it makes me realize I haven’t heard him laugh in a while. In fact, I haven’t seen him for months.

His tan is the same which is ridiculous and I fight the urge to ask him if he spray tans. But as my eyes catch on his hair, I swallow.

His curls are defined and cut into a mullet. I’ve always thought I hated them until I saw Lando’s haircut. He’s got his usual bracelets on and when I’m looking at them I get distracted by his hands.

Sometimes it’s really hard to ignore the fact that this man is the same absolute nerd I grew up with. He and my brother used to terrorize me and now Lando’s words are more teasing if anything.

I know he likes the way we talk because everytime I see him, he willingly starts a conversation with me even though I take every chance to bully him.

He blinks and my gaze is pulled back to my lashes, then his eyes. Fuck, those eyes. They’ve always been my favorite part of Lando’s appearance. Is that weird?

You could argue that they’re brown in the dark, but as soon as the sun hits you realize that they’re not specifically one thing.

Right now they look green as ever, the color in his hoodie bringing it out. I don’t realize he’s looking at me until he blinks again.

“Look,” Lando sighs, “If you’re gonna make a jab at how I have my name embroidered on my hoodie-” I let out a small scoff and he stops. “What?”

“I was gonna say you look really good.” I say simply as his jaw basically drops.

I think I've finally found a way to silence Lando Norris, and get his cheeks pink.

Max walks back in, his new Lando swag on display as I stand.

“I’m gonna wait in the car.” I smile at him and as I walk past my brother, I look back to Lando. “Thanks for the hoodie, Norris.”

He’s watching me walk away, a confused look still on his face. I bring my hand up and wiggle my fingers at him. I hear my brother start to yap loudly as the corner of Lando’s mouth quirks.

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TALES OF CANDOR (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!author!reader

summary: lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

warnings: some hate comments

* faceclaim: mélanie, aka wailcester on ig (please imagine her as you see fit)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by yourusername and 508,651 others

landonorris some days @ home

👤 tagged yourusername

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user i hope ur enjoying ur time off!

user no hate but like what does his gf actually do?

user literally nothing she’s jobless💀

user it’s giving🏅👷‍♀️

user lando i love u but half naked pics of ur girl isn’t helping how much we dislike her…

user what’s she reading!!!

yourusername a thousand splendid suns by khaled hosseini!!

user ofc u are. i totally believe u acc read well written books. u probably just read gossip columns but want to seem interesting🙄

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

liked by landonorris and 15,708,111 others

musingsofcandor biscuit approves of the final draft🤍

👤 tagged acatcalledbiscuit

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user HELLO??? CANDOR DOES THIS MEAN WE R GETTING A NEW BOOK

user i love that we know more abt candy’s cat than we do her…

user can’t wait to read it🥹🥹

rickriordan has to be my favorite thing you’ve written!

user RICK’S READ IT??? OH YOU KNOW ITS GOOD

user lando norris in the likes he’s just like all of us fr

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by landonorris and 32,410 others

yourusername ‘when she finally got the camera film developed, seeing his face made it all come rushing back’🦋🫧🧚🏻

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user im sorry i know we r meant to be supportive but she annoys me sm. is she just living off of lando’s money?

user omg the caption!!!

user i recognise it, where’s it from?

user it’s from ‘tales of peter rourke’ by candor!!!

user 🤢

user we get it… ur dating someone rich. now get a job!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren interview

[captions:

interviewer: what have you been up to in your break?

lando: a lot of lounging around with my girlfriend. read a few books too!

interviewer: anything good?

lando: i’m really into magical reality at the moment! that kind of it’s all normal till it’s not stuff, you know?

interviewer: any good recommendations?

lando: if you like that same genre, i recommend ‘the right side of upside’ by candor! it’s pretty recent, i finished it last week.]

comments

user he likes candor??? he’s so real for that

user KNEW I COULD TRUST HIM

user bad taste in women good taste in books

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor thank you for all the love lately on ‘the right side of upside’. insane seeing so many of you recommend it, biscuit and i are eternally grateful. love, candy🤍

view all comments

user QUEEN DID YOU SEE LANDO RECOMMENDED IT

user CANDY HAS A MAN???

user love u forever ur so talented

user CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT. CANT BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW

musingsofcandor it might be sooner than you think ;)

user UM. candor is this a soft launch?????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by musingsofcandor, yourusername and 761,298 others

landonorris got some super helpful race advice today

👤 tagged acatnamedbiscuit, musingsofcandor

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user OH MY GOD MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

user LANDO WE NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING IS SHE CUTE I FEEL LIKE SHES CUTE

user break up w ur gf and date candor when

musingsofcandor biscuit says he can’t be held responsible for the outcome����

landonorris can i hold you responsible instead, candy?

user UHHHH WHATS GOING ON HERE

user i just know y/n is feeling THREATENED

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername all mine

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user LMAOOO U STARTED SWEATING HUH

user candor could steal ur man if she really wanted to

user GIRL YOU’RE SO OBVIOUS

landonorris yours🖤

user STOP LYINGGGG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an exclusive interview with candor : entertainment weekly

interviewer: so candor! tell us how it really feels having the world at your feet!

candor: [laughing] honestly quite normal! it’s a blessing and a curse, really, not having my identity revealed. i get to live my life without those pressures, but i don’t get to see anyone and thank them for reading!

interviewer: do you ever get the urge to approach someone reading one of your books?

candor: all the time! whenever i go browsing in book stores and see someone looking at or buying mine, i have such a temptation to scream THANK YOU at them!

interviewer: do you see a future in which you reveal your identity?

candor: maybe! there are a few of my fans who know who i am, those who attend the secret events and signings, but i’m very lucky that they all respect my privacy and haven’t shared anything further. perhaps one day soon i’ll finally let everyone in on the secret.

interviewer: and we can’t talk to you and not bring up your cat — or rather, who your cat met the other day…?

candor: oh! i’m assuming you mean lando norris? yes! he’s a pretty good friend of mine, he’s been a big support over the last few years and we found some time in our schedules last week to meet up.

interviewer: so you’re a formula 1 fan?

candor: huge fan! i’m a big mclaren girl so lando and i met through their events!

interviewer: oh fantastic! see folks reading this, she really is just like us!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername cars going vroom vroom makes my heart go boom boom

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user lmao posting before and after candor’s interview. girl ur not subtle.

user im so sorry but ur clearly so threatened it’s hilarious

user i don’t get all the hate in here??? she’s just in love n happy?

user shes a gold digger

comments on this post have now been disabled

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor told you it wouldn’t be long🫧 ‘thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat’ will be with you next friday. a lot of love poured into this one over the past few years, i just couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you🤍

already a member on my website? check your emails🦋

view all comments

user WHDHSJSJSJSJS

user OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

user THE EMAILLLLL🥹

user candy omg where do you live that looks so pretty!!!!

musingsofcandor monaco !!

landonorris 🖤

user lando using the black heart and candor using the white… i’m sorry to his gf (not really) but they’re meant to be

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a photo

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user the best day of my life!!! thank you so much candor for being the absolute sweetest human and taking time to talk to each and every one of us! i cannot wait to read thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat🥹🤍

view all comments

user YOU MET HERRRRE???

user WHO IS SHE TELL TELL TELL

user candor asks us not to share her identity so i’m gonna respect that but LET ME TELL YOU I WAS SHOCKED

user i recognise her from just that inch of her face but i can’t tell whERE FROM

musingsofcandor it was WONDERFUL to meet you! i hope you enjoy the story🤍

user wish people on twitter were as kind as this,,, there’s photos of her going around :/

ੈ✩‧₊˚ f1wags just posted a photo

liked by 57,916 people

f1wags the internet has been in PIECES after famous author candor’s recent book signing. photos have emerged of the popular anonymous author from the event, revealing her to be none other than LANDO NORRIS’ GIRLFRIEND, Y/N! turns out, she has a job after all👀 (pictures taken from y/n’s instagram!)

view all comments

user i… cannot believe this

user see. when y’all were hating on her you were secretly worshipping her

user @ everyone who was an arse to y/n… KARMA IS A BITCH!

user WHAT????

user HOLY SHIT LANDO HAS BEEN DATING MY FAV AUTHOR THIS WHOLE TIME????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by landonorris and 506,711 others

yourusername well. the secrets out. it’s been a long few years, but it’s nice to not have to hold it in any more.

both my accounts will remain active for separate purposes, but i’m excited to be able to introduce you to candor as she is in her whole truth — just like her name suggests🤍

view all comments

user ironically this is exactly how i picture marian elsie from thomasine jeffe looking. full fairy

user i am. so sorry. so so so sorry. i know nothing can ever compare for the things we said but i really am

yourusername thank you. no hard feelings on my end🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris my candy. it may not have been how you intended, but i’m glad i get to show off how proud of you i am.

i’ve watched you as both candor and y/n for a while now, and i love both versions of you entirely. i cannot wait to see what you do now you have the freedom to be whoever you want to.

and hey, pretty cool to be able to say i’m the inspiration behind some of your characters, huh?🖤

ps. so glad i can finally share photos of mY CAT. even if he does hate me biscuit is MINE as well

view all comments

user love the clarification that the most important thing to lando is sharing photos of his cat😭😭

user MORE PICS OF BISCUIT PLEASE

user i’ve always been in love with her i can say that confidently

user oh so you’re a successful fanboy

yourusername biscuit told me to tell u ur smelly for using him for likes

landonorris you literally said to me omg i can post about biscuit now YOU FEEL THE SAME DONT LIE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor i’ve had a bit of inspiration for some time🤍

view all comments

user MOM AND DAD

user i can’t believe this. my worlds are colliding

user I KNEW CAPTAIN ROURKE FELT FAMILIAR IN THE TALES OF PETER ROURKE

user i can’t believe my fav ever love interest is based on lando….

landonorris i love you. thanks for immortalising me🖤

————

a/n: hello hello! another one whilst i recover!

so this was based on an anon request and i have had so much fUN writing it!!!! whilst i don’t normally do requests generally due to being overwhelmed easily, this one stood out to me as i Love books so i was inspired. to the anon who requested, i hope this is what you imagined🤍

in terms of further requests! whilst i can’t promise i’ll do them, if you have any pressing ideas you think would work with my style , do feel free to send them in ! i always love to hear your ideas (and any thoughts on my works!! please send feedback as well!!) and will try gradually to get through some🤍

fun fact: all the book titles are based on actual books i have written hehe

fun fact pt2: yes her pseudonym is chosen bc i watched divergent last night

taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35

[no-144444]

his disgraced pop princess- (o.piastri 81)

-------------------

-------------------

summary: oscar is there for you through your first real GP weekend

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x singer! reader

warnings: cyberbullying ans slut shaming

-------------------

Oscar Piastri was nervous. It had been two days since he first met you, and now it had been 4 hours since he last texted you. Beside him, Logan was scrolling on his own phone, still making fun of Oscar’s ‘awful puppy-love’, as he called it. It wasn’t awful, just slightly overboard. You two had been texting non-stop since the race, and he was enjoying it. You were funny, sweet, and probably just busy, right? 

Oscar: Doing anything else today? I’m stuck training all day. 

Oscar: Studio…? 

Oscar: I think the fans need new music (it’s me, I’m fans)

-------------------

You were anxious. It had been two days since you met Oscar ‘perfect’ Piastri, and now he’d texted you multiple times while you were busy being on a plane. Beside you in the Uber, was Hallie, your best friend, texting her new mystery boy and laughing at your freak out over not texting him back. You two had been texting non-stop since the race, and you loved it. He was asking all the right questions, he was funny, he was so supportive of you going up against Charles, and evidently, a screenager. 

“I feel bad!” you groaned as you tried to type something out, but nothing seemed good enough. 

“You were on a plane, what was he expecting, a carrier pigeon?” she chuckled. “He’ll survive without texting you for 4 hours, calm down.”

“What do I say?”

She rolled her eyes. “Give me the damn phone.”

You: Sorry I was on a plane and their carrier pigeon network was down. Oops :)

“He is diabolical,” she laughed. “Immediate response, does he not have a life?”

You rolled your eyes and snatched back the phone. “Shut up!”

Oscar: Too bad, I was hoping you were busy making new music :(

You: Well, I’d need inspiration for that and that is the one thing I don’t have. Well, that and people that like me and want to listen to my music.

Oscar: :( 

Oscar: What are you doing today?

Y/n: Lawyers, seeing Charles, helping put the case together and finishing up the legal side of my split from the band. Aka boring as fuck :)

Oscar: Good luck seeing Charles again, I hope it isn’t too bad.

Oscar: Whenever we’re on the same continent again we should meet up for dinner :)

Y/n: Sounds like a plan, and thank you. Good luck with training today :)

“You two deserve each other. You’re equally as cheesy,” Hallie rolled her eyes. 

“It’s not cheesy to like someone,” you scoffed, getting out of the car. “You’re just alone.”

“Not anymore,” she chuckled. 

“Shut up!” you cheered. “Who?”

She smirked. “Tell you later.”

You rolled your eyes. “You suck.”

“I’ll see you later,” she called as she walked off. You were left standing alone. Before walking in, you took a deep breath and willed yourself not to burst into tears. 

-------------------

“It’s defamation!” Charles shouted, making you jump. Everything he did was making you jump. You hadn’t realised how badly everything had affected you until today. You were jumpy, you felt sick, you weren’t sleeping, you weren’t there mentally. 

“No, you’ve defamed Ms. Y/l/n’s reputation,” your lawyer calmly pointed out. 

You wanted it to stop, you wanted everything to stop. You wanted to go back to Sunday and relive the race over and over again. You wanted to be with Lewis again, with Toto again, with Oscar again. You desperately wanted to feel safe. 

Your lawyer was good, and you knew you’d win the case against Charles no matter what, but cleaning up the band would be a big undertaking. You’d always been the one to sign documents for all of them, so that they could pull out at any time. That now meant that you were technically the owner of the name of the band, the licensing rights, the songs, and the money you’d all already made. You were hitting them where it hurts, and you were taking it all. If they wanted to push you out, you’d push them right back. 

“Y/n, come on. It’s all of our band, and we deserve our name, at least,” your brother, Alex, begged. Up to last week you would’ve done anything for him. Now, he was fucking dead to you. 

“You can keep one thing,” you answered, not even looking at them. They prematurely celebrated and thanked you, but you held up a hand to silence them. “You can keep your instruments. I’ll take everything else.”

The room erupted into shouting, from every member of the band. You just got up and walked away. The meeting was over. You had it all. 

-------------------

BREAKING NEWS! WINGS BAND MEMBER Y/N Y/L/N DELETES INSTAGRAM, IS SEEN WITH F1 DRIVER OSCAR PIASTRI,  AND IS PHOTOGRAPHED LEAVING A LAW FIRM!

The 22 year old singer, Y/n Y/l/n is fresh into the scene of being a solo artist after being dropped by her band ‘WINGS’. This weekend she was seen around the Silverstone paddock with long-time friend and possible boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton. Shockingly, the newly crowned ‘Queen of Homewrecking’ is also sticking her nose into another man, Australian driver Oscar Piastri. The pair were seen walking together in the paddock, looking quite close. We would advise him to steer clear of her mess if he was able… 

In another turn of events, Y/l/n decided to delete her entire Instagram page, as well as her Twitter, Tiktok, Threads, and all other social media accounts. While she has opted for a ‘social-media-break’, her close friends and family have not posted about her, but some more famous friends have, including Lewis Hamilton answering questions about her in an interview during the Media day of the British Gran Prix. When asked about his opinion on the band, he said this. 

“Y’know, half of the success of them (WINGS) was Y/n. She really pulled everything together and no one really sees that because she was so careful about showing people that. She never wanted anyone to feel like they (the rest of the band) weren’t 100% committed, because at that time, they were. It’s just sad how people turn on each other, especially after everything she’s done for them.”

And when asked about Charles O’Brien, he had this to say. 

“That pathetic piece of s**t can f**k off and get out of the paddock. There is no place for him here, on any stage, or anywhere in the world. He is a vile creature.”

In other news, she was seen exiting the Law firm, Cravath, Swaine & Moore this afternoon, and 40 minutes later, the rest of the ‘WINGS’ band was seen leaving, looking much more upset than her. 

Something tells us there might be more than meets the eye in this twisted tale…

-------------------

“Hey Y/n,” Oscar’s voice was music to your ears as you sat in your hotel room with dried tears on your cheeks. 

“Hi,” you answered, voice hoarse, just happy to not be alone anymore. 

“How did it go?” He asked, his voice softening. 

You scoffed. “As badly as I thought it would,” you sighed, defeated. “I just wish it would all stop.” 

“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” he sighed. “Charles is a special breed of dickhead.”

“So is the media,” you added. “Did you see the stuff everyone is writing about me? It’s awful-”

“I don’t read about you. I don’t need it anymore. I have the real you now, and that’s the you I’m interested in.” 

Oscar ‘perfect’ Piastri strikes again. 

Your lips broke into a smile. “Thanks Oscar.”

“I mean it. I don’t give a shit about the media, like at all,” he was smiling, you could tell. 

“I’m glad. If you did I don’t think this friendship could’ve worked very well,” you chuckled. “You seriously don’t care that I’m a ‘homewrecking slut’, according to everyone else?”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Your heart swelled. 

-------------------

It had been a few months, Oscar had gotten his first win, you’d wanted to personally kill Zak Brown, you’d gone through the beginnings of the court proceedings for the band things, and you’d finally filed a report against Charles. 

Now, you were in London on your way to Abbey Road Studios. New music for the first time in a few months. First time you’d sung in a few months. Oscar walked beside you, his head covered in a hat to remain inconspicuous. 

You stopped outside the door. Oscar took your hand and pushed the door open for you, then led you in. 

“You’re here for a reason,” he reminded you with a squeeze to the hand. 

The past few months had been emotional to say the least. Yet, Oscar had been there for you the entire time. He truly didn’t care about the press. He liked you. He liked you a lot. You liked him. You liked him a lot. But you two weren’t dating, right? You didn't really know. Friends didn't hold hands, or cuddle, and usually weren't there for you before you make the biggest leap of your life.

He stayed beside you as you walked through the building, getting the grand tour from an employee, only leaving you when you finally went in to record. 

“You’ve got this,” he whispered, holding you in a tight hug. Inside was your manager, Ursula, and your producer Axel. “I believe in you.”

And those 4 words gave you the courage to go in there and sing. 

You sat on the stool they had set up for you, headphones on as Axel droned on about something insignificant, and you brainstormed. You hadn’t even thought about writing for the past few months, despite Oscar trying to convince you that it would make you feel better. You couldn’t touch it. Though now, with no consequences, no one looking at you, no one interested, you reached for the guitar and strung a few cords. You thought about Charles, about the band, about Oscar. Then you thought about nothing.

“When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever,” You sang, and then the words came flowing freely. 

Three hours later, you had an album on your hands. A good album. A great album. 

-------------------

“You did it,” Oscar smiled as you stepped out of the studio. “Write anything?”

“I think I like you. Like, like like you,” you confessed. He smiled. 

“Good,” he answered. 

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “I just said-”

He pressed his lips to yours softly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’ve like like-d you since the day we met. I’m glad we’re on the same page now.”

You stared at him in shock for a moment, then a smile spread across your face. “You’re such an asshole.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t want to rush you,” he shrugged. “Anyway, write anything?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, handing him a CD. “One of two in the world, don’t lose it.”

His eyes lit up, a big smile on his face. “Is this the perks of being Y/n Y/l/n’s boyfriend? Exclusive insight into new music?”

“Calling yourself my boyfriend?” you quirked an eyebrow, smiling. 

“Oh baby, I’ve called myself your boyfriend for the past 2 months, I’m not stopping now,” he smiled, and your heart could’ve melted.

You chuckled. "Always the charmer Piastri."

He smirked, then something behind his eyes changed, and he started blushing. He was about to ask you something important. “Come to Monza with me? Please?”

You rolled your eyes. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

-------------------

You touched down in Italy in Max’s private jet. You’d spent the afternoon getting to know him, Kelly, and Penelope, who’d taken a significant liking to you. The flight had been great, you’d never been on a jet before and it was as luxurious and comfortable as you’d imagined. Another part of the journey that was comfortable was Oscar letting you lay on him the entire time. You two were new but it looked like you’d been together forever. It felt like it too. It felt like he saw you. The real you. And he wasn’t scared or disgusted, or anything else that your brain told you he’d be. He was just Oscar. 

You left the jet, the perks of flying in the middle of the night meant that no fans were waiting for you outside. You didn’t need to add more flames to the fire of his insane life. You wanted to keep your ‘scandals’ to yourself and to just let him race. 

He gave your hand a squeeze to pull you back into the moment. “You alright?”

You nodded. “I’m ok, just nervous about this weekend.”

“You don’t need to be nervous, you don’t even have to leave my driver’s room if you don’t want to. I just… I wanted you here.”

“I want to be here,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I want to be around you.”

Even though it was dark, you could see the blush on his cheeks. 

-------------------

Media day began as it always did, walking into the paddock with about a hundred cameras on him. Only this time, the hundred cameras were pointed at him and you, more specifically, you two holding hands. It wasn't even a conscious thing you did. You just took his hand to try and calm yourself down. You liked how he gently brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, you liked how he would squeeze your hand every now and then, and you liked how he led you through the sea of reporters with a simple smile, and a firm hold.

When you got to the McLaren motorhome, you and Oscar parted ways with a quick kiss and a promise of lunch together. You decided to join Alex Dunne, one of McLaren's development drivers and a current F3 driver for a track walk and interview. You two chatted and laughed, getting on really well. The weather was sweltering, so you went back inside to meet Lando and Oscar for lunch.

"Y/n!" Lando smiled, running up to you.

"Hey Lan," you greeted, hugging him back as he engulfed you in one of his bear-hugs.

"How are you?" he asked, pulling back.

"All good thanks, you?"

"Fine," he shrugged, then turned his attention to Oscar and you. He smirked. "Has he asked you out yet?"

You chuckled, nodding. "He has."

"My ship has sailed!" He cheered.

"What? You have a boat?" Oscar questioned, as you and Lando laughed.

The rest of the day went well, only being bombarded with cameras every now and then, and somehow, whenever they found you, Oscar came right along to take you away. You appreciated the concern from him, and it definitely took the edge off some of the comments people made, especially the internet. Who knew you and Oscar would be such big news? Big news that hadn't even been confirmed, at that.

-------------------

After lunch, Oscar was forced into more press, this time, they decided to ask about you. You watched on from the McLaren hospitality as the interviewer said some choice words about you.

"So, you were seen earlier entering the paddock with Y/n Y/l/n, yes?"

"Yes," Oscar replied.

"You two were holding hands," she pointed out.

"There was a swarm of reporters, I didn't want to leave her behind," he shrugged. You quickly realised that you hadn't talked about whether or not you wanted to tell the media bout your budding relationship.

"So you aren't dating Y/n 'home-wrecker' Y/l/n?"

Oscar's face fell into a frown. "Her middle name is Y/m/n, not home-wrecker, and yes, I'm her boyfriend."

With that he moved on, leaving the interviewer shocked and defeated.

-------------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[yakamozhoez]

ugly little secret(s)

✎ Your cheeks are burning with rose-rotted chagrin. 

February 2nd, 1998. 

Leon. 21. 

Multiply, add, divide, and subtract. Do all the math.

The upshot is all the same. Your boyfriend’s terrifying older brother is a fucking porn star. Or... was a porn star.

cw: fem!reader and has she/her pronouns, boyfriend’s brother ouchchch, shameless smut, drinking, insomnia, cheating, humiliation, he rlly is an asshole therefore a tad ooc and he's speaking italian to you aka mission to impress the reader, semi-public sex, hair pulling, fingering, biting, ex-porn star (actually camboy but nevermind) leon omg, biting, degradation and praising, facials, oral (m receiving) world count: 8k (uhm!) tiny note: the second request during the perilous ovulation week, and im quite excited/scared with this one, i did imagine og re4 leon but with remake’s face while writing this cuz og leon’s eyes r scary + i despise making banners and suck big time euugh

Wielding the spare key in your hand, you click a few times on the door, and it slithers automatically open. You make barely a sound since the minute hand and the hour hand have long crossed the midnight horizon. Dragging your bulging overnight bag inside, you step through the door of your boyfriend’s apartment building. A gloomy curtain of secrecy reigns inside. But what’s this? Your boyfriend knew you were on your way. What’s with sending his girlfriend to Coventry now?

Pity. Looks like your dreams of getting those welcome hugs and kisses are dashed. Alas, you can’t stop the clock. Unpack your clothes, and you can always give him a call later, let him know you’re home.

To get things rolling, you hang the key on the coat rack in the foyer and mosey onto the kitchen for a glass of water. When you pull the handle of the fridge open, an abstruse smell filters into your nostrils. It’s not your fragrance and certainly not that of your boyfriend. A shade of a strange skin and other colors ride on the current.

Oh, he better not be cheating on you.

Out of dark, dark blues, the lightest nudge on your shoulder from the hands that have been sneaking up on you from behind spooks you. The hairs on your arms stand on end, and thorns effloresce on your skin – the kind of thorns that would cut open your flesh should you skim your fingers over them.

Your instinct, the one that will perchance drive you to your death, blindly dashes the glass of water in your hand in the face of the man behind you.

You get an offended and curt grunt of a veto.

That face bathed in water is actually quite recognizable, albeit a face you don’t see around you very often. The furrow of his brow is sunken, absolutely splotched with indignation – quite irascible.

Oh?

Oh.

Leon.

Your boyfriend’s big brother.

What a lovely first impression you made on him. Unfuckingbelievable.

You think he wouldn’t mind (he would, and he does). Credit where it’s due, the guy is barely in the menage picture; you do see him for a heck of a long time. He’s always off somewhere on a “job,” but you can’t get a sliver of a clue what the hell he’s pulling off as a job. The gist of it is that Leon Kennedy leads a life that would surely inspire a private sleuth – and Leon never holds anyone personally accountable for it.

Rarely do you catch him cracking a mordant smile, which adds mingy zeros to the myriad percentages of his almost impossible odds. You have to cut him some slack, though, ‘cause he did help you once when you couldn’t get the lid off the pasta sauce.

“Fuck! Leon, I’m sorry. You’re- I mean, holy shit! You’re so stealthy, I thought you were a burglar.” You excuse yourself with a nebulous mewl.

A softer flicker of sympathy flits across his face, just duskily.

“‘s fine.”

You know it’s not ‘fine’. You know it perfectly well.

His words may assure you that it’s okay, but his eyes are definitely looking at you like, “Were you really planning to confront a would-be thief by splashing water in his face?”

You can’t help but descry how Leon harnesses the same blue as his brother in the circles of his irises – a tint of sapphire that bucks the blues of the rivulets. They are dark, too. No adequate translation of this chromatic parallelism.

For no discernible rhyme or reason, you look around wary to atone for your self-pity, and your eyes wander to the roll of tissue folded atop the kitchen table.

With a tear of a leaf, you pat the toweling paper into the droplets that trickle down his chin, a bead, or even two.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Leon inveighs.

He’s the kind of person capable of morphing into a scary person when he wants to. Makes you so wired, but he does it so well.

“What are you, my mother?”

The damp and tattered lump of paper in your hand falls to the floor, and you raise your hands in midair as if in groveling surrender. No need for much falsification.

“Of course not!”

The last time you felt this dejected in your life was in elementary school when your teacher dragged you out to recite a sonnet from fucking Marlow. And you fucked up so bad. Surely now, these nanoseconds are going straight into the collection of your second most cringe-worthy memoirs.

“So, what’re you doing here?” You clear your throat.

“Just visiting. Temporarily. Got a flight by tomorrow.”

There’s your answer.

But you want to know more. You always do.

“Uhm. Where’s your brother again?”

“I dunno. Said he had to deal with some stuff in the office before he left.” Leon brushes at the wetness on the collar of his t-shirt with a napkin petal he rips off afresh.

“Oh, that makes total sense. He didn’t say anything to me before I got here, y’know. So I thought the house would be empty since I didn’t see him – but you came out of nowhere, and I got all antsy!” You run off at the mouth, rocking on the balls of your feet awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leon hacks your words to pieces all over with a shiv. A tasteless night for you and your speech clumps in your throat, burning your airway so bitterly.

“Whatever. I’m going out. Gotta change first, all thanks to ‘someone’ pouring water over my fucking head.”

Allusions and epithets shape his voice into thumbnail knives, and they stab steadily and directly at you. You bleed trickles of mortification.

He won’t even spare a backward glance at your face.

He wanders out of the kitchen, and you just sulk after him.

Eighteen messages you send to your boyfriend, and every time you dial his number, the line rings dead air. Sprawled out on his bed, you try to decompress, but it’s all for naught. Time is repentant to elapse while you’re all alone. Can’t sleep either, since you didn’t shy away from drinking a whole cup of coffee. All that has happened to you now is, indeed, no one else’s but your own fault.

It’s your feet that carry you out of the room again. Inside, it’s colder – there’s one less person and one less blood circulation. Leon must have left, and it’s fairly late.

What a laugh; it boggles your mind as to why this man is like this and why he would go out at this hour, but perhaps your theorem of him being a crook holds some meed of credence.

Who cares? To hell with all the Kennedys.

They’re all rude and... handsome and pretty. Candies for the eyes, so to speak.

On the TV unit, a picture framed with teak wood catches your eyes. A mother, a father, and their two sons. Leon looks younger here. He looks more... puerile and similar to his mommy. Ah, there’s your boyfriend. As for him, he’s a minor character even through your eyes.

Just blame it on human nature to curry favor for the better and more pleasant ones. It’s simpler that way.

Quite on the fly, the Kennedy brothers’ cat skitters towards you, a gust of wind coming from your left, from your boyfriend’s bedroom.

“Oh, gosh! What the hell?”

Surviving an attack by a cat without a single scratch wasn’t an entry in your mental dossier for this particular evening. What a creepy cat. He reminds you of Leon, to be honest: a grumpy, feral, black cat and quite conniving. A cunt, literally.

You’re fixing your hair properly, but things turn up a notch when you notice that your earring is missing – the one that usually grazes your hair when you push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyebrows spontaneously knit into a rictus frown.

“Stupid kitty,” you mutter to yourself, and your eyes sweep over the surroundings, looking for anything and everything. And voila! You hit the jackpot. A pair of hoop earrings glint in the corner of the bookcase. You waddle on your knees and reach for your precious bijou. Eyes on the floor, your head tilts a fraction from your preoccupation with the insertion of the clamp into the tiny hole in your earlobe. Then you see a small box. It’s one thing for it to be hidden out of sight, quite another for it to be so incredibly grotesque. A jejune beige-colored corrugated box tucked under the bookcase. On it is a stamped label that reads “1998”. That’s like six years ago.

Curiosity claws at your guts, and the incisal edges of your teeth zing your bottom lip.

But you’ve already opened the grimy, dust- and paper-covered lid of that box.

A box full of some movie cassettes. About ten, possibly more. What the deuce is this?

It’s hard to pick one out, but somehow you pluck the one that has fallen to the very bottom of the line.

You insert the deck into the tape recorder’s lizard-like tongue.

The television comes to fruition with horizontal and vertical lines that weave in and out of the harmony of blues and greens. Butterflies of distress swirl inside you – something is about to rock the boat. You clutch the remote control tightly to your heart.

February 2, 1998.

A LITTLE PRE-LAUNCH AND WARM-UP.

The screen confronts you with a dark display that momentarily startles you with the reflection of your own agitated features. Whoever this director is, he should never direct a battle in the middle of darkness and winter for the next years!

The screen jerks and shakes some more, lumberingly, and you can see the... thighs of a figure, a man (?).

Fuck. This is the shot.

This is the fucking Leon, his face chubbier on the tape; tender, and with the baby fat now minus his chiseled, washed-out cheeks.

Leon, that very adorable Leon, as in the family portrait, is now sitting there with his considerably big dick in the palm of his hand... pumping the hell out of himself. His hair is darker, brown maybe. And there’s a woman you’ve never seen before, on all fours, sucking on testicles that were probably heavy enough to make mincemeat of the camera if they were to hit against the screen.

“So—suck—big. Gosh, I love them so much, naughty boy. Just like how I love my men younger but with huge cocks. You gonna fuck me after I suck this pretty dick, pretty boy?”

She’s talking dirty and smearing Leon’s balls with bright red rouge; sucking and guzzling on his sacks like there’s no tomorrow. God, how’s this even possible? Can she even breathe?

“Y-yes, ma’am. I’ll give you anything you want,” Leon, in return, stammers amateurishly.

Everything and everyone is looking at you, with all their obscenity and prurience. Everything on the screen. And you’re staring back at them.

“Fuck this!”

A crude tap on the red button of the remote, and the screen is the dimness of the night welkin again.

February 2nd, 1998.

Leon. 21.

Multiply, add, divide, and subtract. Do all the math.

The upshot is all the same.

Your boyfriend’s terrifying older brother is a fucking porn star. Or... was a porn star. God, does that even matter?

You’re giving yourself a wake-up pinch on the arm. You need to know if this is a dream or if your mind is playing some sick trick on you.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Your eyes HAVE witnessed everything. What else can you do but believe them?

Leon was there; he was in that bed, and between his knees was a woman giving him the head of his dreams. That Leon, proud and awed, whimpering in his gruff voice.

What the fuck?

It all makes so much sense if you give yourself a chance to ponder it. It’s psychedelic. So, Leon is obviously someone living his own life on his own, but everything he’s done in the past is just a sliver of time littered with wrongdoings.

Either that or it isn’t. It may or may not be a flaw to be a porn star. Correction: an ex-porn star. You really don’t know. You’re all over the place, but there’s a voice inside you questioning why this should even concern you in the first place.

Really? What do you care? How is that any of your business?

Leon’s nothing to you, and you’re nothing to him. He sure as hell despises you, and after your gaffe tonight, it’s a very real likelihood that you’re one of the top three names he’s written in his personal journal of people he holds in contempt.

Your gaze falls on the cat, licking his paws. He stares blankly at you, and you at him. Subsequently, the rattle of keys and the sound of the front door unlocking – you know perfectly well what kind of timbre it grates – jar you out of your haze of apathy. Immediately, you stash the remote in your hand under the cushion on the couch. You never know.

You sink into the armchair, push the “Pandora’s” box (it sure had some scandalous stuff in it, alright) under the bookcase, and snatch the first book that randomly comes to your hand from the bureau.

The patter of footsteps coming in matches Leon’s boots. You watch him walk in like a soldier on standby but sitting down. You are, indeed, the greatest example of how this can even physicalize.

“You haven’t gone to bed yet?”

You shake your head no. Won’t breathe a word after everything that has happened. He’s very much on the same page.

The suspense between you is so thick you could hear a pin drop.

“Felt like reading a book at this hour?” Leon sounds painfully austere. As usual and as he should be.

“Yeah.” You wave the book in your hand at him. It spells “Twilight”. A pop-culture pulp book that cryptically no one can keep out of their hands, in a macabre sort of way.

“You’re reading a vampire romance for teenagers? At 4:00 a.m.?”

“Yes...”

You keep repeating the same words like a double robot or like a refrain of a nursery rhyme. How original.

Leon pitches in by keeping schtum. Inwardly, he feels sick ‘cause he has frightened you, more or less. He isn’t a complete asshat, sure, but he certainly hasn’t had a very good sense of how he should behave with people he isn’t exactly in rapport with. Until then, and even now, he feels up in the air, especially next to you.

“Well... I’ll just watch some TV.”

Oh.

Oh, hell fuck.

He said “television,” and you heard it very lucidly.

The television is still tuned to the tape recorder, and the very television is still screening the tape in its monochrome black frame.

“Ah! No, Leon. I think it’s totally overkill. It’s so late, right?”

Here come your eccentricities.

“Nah, you’re the overkill. I’m bored. I’ll just channel surf and go to bed anyway.”

“I think you should just go straight to bed, Leon. Look under your eyes. I don’t think purple eye circles flatter you.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that the pills ain’t helping.” His razor-sharp eyes are roving to pinpoint the remote. “The pharmacist said Zolpidem does wonders; he raved and gushed about it. Fuck that guy and the other guys beside him.”

“You do take pills to fall asleep?”

“I do.”

“Haven’t you tried taking some... melatonin gummies?”

Anything to keep the conversation away from the hidden remote.

To your surprise, Leon vacillates in the span of a heartbeat’s whisper. Melatonin hadn’t even dawned on him then, but instead of letting you find out, he’d rather jump off the veranda, thank you very much.

He prods you a little and digs out the remote control that you placed under the cushion, as if he himself had planted it there.

Oh, boy.

You really need to stop what’s happening and what’s most likely to happen. One way or another, you have to do it, or you’ll be the guilty one here and–

The damned TV switches on as soon as Leon hits that second button.

And you’re the voyeur watching your boyfriend’s brother’s porn videos. It’s now official.

That’s what you are. Officially, a pervert.

A blanket of quiescence suffuses the room unless you count the gagging and Leon’s tinny whimpers filtering through the telly.

Oh, how you need a new epithet right now, one to define infamy and beyond.

You can’t see what kind of spectrum is delineated on his face. How dare you look at him anyway? How dare he look at your cherry-cheeked face when a twenty-one-year-old Leon is fucking a milf’s mouth on the display?

The karmic equation of the situation is so complex that his eyes finally apprehend yours. You can tell how far-fetched it all is without even meeting his perusal.

“I didn’t mean to! I swear I found them under the bookcase.”

You meander, glaring at the vinyl flooring, a handful of stray words only barely pinging out of your mouth.

“I mean, it’s your fault. Who leaves personal belongings out in the open?” You try again.

Leon is nowhere with you.

In the room, in all, everything is dead silent. The porn video has fallen dead silent too; there is no other noise punctuating the room other than the sound of a clock’s rivets pursuing each other. This must be what dying feels like. Cold, pitch-black darkness and nary a sound. Like a mausoleum, but a mausoleum at 4 o’clock or so.

“And yet you had to butt in.”

Looks like he’s about to rip you a new one right here and there. Hard not to be flummoxed; all glassy-eyed and mouth agape. Even his glare is chopping away the remainder of your exiguous logic.

“That’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh, is that so?”

Written on his face is the projectile vomit of aversion to you. It’s the kind of vitriol that will drive you fifty feet under the ground, and the blues of his eyes aren’t malleable – no azure pinpricks. Asperity in the green, bloodshot eyes.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t paw at everything you happen to see, huh?”

It would be really nice. If you had the decency to recognize your boundaries, this would never have had to happen. You’d have remained two virtual strangers, and perhaps you could have dimmed the tingles between your legs for him. That much exposure to porn makes anyone wet; fair play to you. The problem is that you’re soaking wet for your boyfriend’s blood and kin.

That’s what makes you a wench: your anatomical reaction – if you want to gloss over the obvious.

What the hell is wrong with you?

“The fuck are you still doing here? You deaf or something?”

His question, equivalent to him banishing you from this place, rocks your whole world to the ground. You may agree with Leon, but you still can’t come up with the flimsiest excuse to stop yourself from hating him. How he refuses to believe you precisely because it’s much cheaper to write you off as the wanton one.

You need to do something about it.

Guts suddenly coursing through your body, you retort, “It’s not like I’m looking forward to being here anyway. What a fucking weird family you have. Christ! Your moron brother cheats on me, I try to ignore it, and when I try to do something to clear my head, I see a porn video of the man who will be my brother-in-law.”

Oh. Ouch. Now you have done it.

That felt so good. The ultimate and only panacea: spewing out the poison that had clogged inside you.

So much so that even Leon finds himself reeling. The feeling of being enough to sway him, however fleetingly, gives you a strange sense of vindication.

“You give him the ring. I’m done with this crap.”

You fling the ring aside, and it thuds down on the floor.

Indubitably, you slam the door stormily before you leave. Just like a movie scene. It’s overly melodramatic, but it must be executed. (Note: You’ll probably throw up in the toilet when you remember the antics you’ve just carried out.)

After that night of odium, you now avoid any place in your daily life where you ever read the acronym “Kennedy”. Conversely, you cast withering glares at people’s mouths before the birth of anything that begins with the L-word. The stakes are alpine.

Over and over, your now ex-boyfriend texted and paged you, and you didn’t return a single one. As if you hadn’t walked in on him with the girl in the office – time and again – on the desk, his ugly hand and zaftig fingers under the girl’s pencil skirt. You weren’t born yesterday, and while your ex was snoring his ass off, you were engrossed in reading his texts to other blonde girls with small tits and waists.

All those nights when you went into the living room and read Fur Coat Madonna under the dim lamp as if nothing had actually changed.

You had only one simple answer for why you put up with it: sublimity. You lusted after money; you had a yen for power and glory.

A grounded family – the Kennedys were what you were looking for. Young and adolescent girls, young Americans, loved the handsome blond men and their pretty eyes. To be one of their girlfriends – they’d murder someone or start a cult even, really.

Luckily, your father’s pedigree and the blood that runs through your veins qualified you as a golden plum. Although you’d always had your eye on Leon, unfortunately, the better Kennedy wasn’t up for grabs.

Not only is (or was) he a porn star, but the fact that no one has ever heard of him only serves to raise huge, fishy questions about what kind of cover story is playing out behind the screen.

Whatever.

You’re off to Italy and ready to drink the stress away. Drama-free and only the blue sea of the alluring Mediterranean.

Who doesn’t like a warm Sicilian starry night?

After a lap in the pool, you climb up the pool ladder and dry the excess water from the tufts of your hair with a towel while unintentionally eavesdropping on the chatter of the two girls working at the minibar. They’re right behind you.

Excitement and bustle are at their peak; one of them is showing the other something on her phone. Slowly, you make your way toward them.

“Girl, it looks sooo fine- he’s, like, sooo fine.”

The staff speak Italian amongst themselves, and you struggle to translate their words by hearsay against your moribund Italian language background.

“Are you kidding? You can’t even sit on it. It’s so big.”

“I’d happily sit on it,” the other girl says (presumably). “Look at the tip... just tie a ribbon on it. Awwh.”

This is so... hocus-pocus. They say, “Nastro something something something.”

Doesn’t that equate to a ribbon?

It’ll set your head on fire if you mull it over any longer. You could do well with a cold drink and mayhaps find a hot Italian tutor while you’re at it.

The girls won’t even hear you approaching. What’s the deal with all this? Because this is getting overly gelastic.

“Ahem.” You bitch up. You’re good at that.

One of the girls nearly drops her phone, and the other one smiles sweetly at you as an amends for her friend’s indignities.

“Signora! Good evening to you. The usual again?” Her Italian accent makes it even funnier.

“Yep. Gimlet, please.”

“Coming right up!”

Strapping the thin sarong around your hips, you settle on the stool and wait for your order.

“White Russian,” a voice next to you pipes up. You know that voice all too well. Oh, and the puff of his whispery perfume – something sandalwood or cedar.

“Buona notte, sweetheart.”

That autocratic sass and gruff. Your stomach lurches.

Fuckfuckfuck.

“What the hell are you doing here, Leon?”

“Surprise, surprise.”

Sarcasticity and irreverence read like the trappings of the only emotion in his bones, and that makes you feel ill at ease. The degree of clownishness in the look you get when you glance over your shoulder at him is simply gobsmacking.

“What are those glasses?”

In the darkness at the ninth hour of the night, his Wayfarer sunglasses portray a very unhinged vignette.

“My new style. Y’like it?”

“No,” you huff out, “your head looks bigger, and your forehead is awfully wide with them.”

That’s beyond cruel, but you do what you do; you tell him the truth. Leon, in response, opens his mouth to make you eat humble pie, but the bartender chimes in and plops your freshly poured cocktails in front of the two of you. No sooner is she out of the way than Leon skulks over, and his whisper, drifting closer to your ear, forebodes fiasco.

“I know what you’re doing. Don’t you dare divert the subject.”

Now what the fuck is this? Why is he rambling on like a riddle, serving no purpose other than to vex you?

In one swift guzzle, Leon swallows all the velvety liquid in the old-fashioned glass, the movement of his Adam’s apple a downward slide as the liquor coils up his parched throat; it all goes down smooth and fulminates his insides.

Show-off.

You’re not into that.

“Look. I told you I’m done with you and your stupid sibling after that night,” you clarify in a more affable tone, but Leon shows no interest in humoring you.

“Believe me, I thought so too.”

“So then why are you here?”

Leon first downplays his eyes at this question, and then you can trace an aweless grin on his face again – ablaze with the glow of the clinquant candles stacked on the counter.

“This is my hometown, y’know.”

A strange turmoil to explore, to espy how much his facial expressions play for the first time since you’ve come to know him. Turns out he can be pretty silly when he wants to be an Italian.

But maybe you’ve pissed him off too much, so he grabs you by the arm uncouthly and steers you nearer to a not-so-appropriate vantage point. Nose to nose and lips to lips.

Up close, he’s much comelier – indescribably so. Freckles dot along the bridge of his nose, and his kissable, aflush lips. He looks like a breeze in the summer, and you adore the aestival fire flowers.

Be sure to ask him about his skincare routine after this carousel still.

“You uploaded my videos on this fucking website, didn’t you, you little backstabbing bitch?”

Stop, stop, stop, stop. Stop the tape, the recording, and everything.

What. Was. That?

Your face is veiled in an acidic visage. Now the cat’s out of the bag, and it’s clear why he’s walking around like a super spy with these goofy shades on.

“I didn’t release your videos or shit. You see, I’m minding my own business and having the best vacay in the world,” you pull your arm free, and his hand falls idle, “only for you to come and fuck it all up. So, congratulations, you’ve ruined my whole vacation.”

“Do you take me for an oaf?”

Actually, yes. In your judgment, he’s the flesh-and-blood manifestation of idiocy.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Do not say it aloud.

“Think this is a wiiild coincidence, how my fucking clips have been all over the internet since that night?” Leon demands again. He wants some answers.

“I told you I didn’t do it.”

Leon certainly isn’t taking your word for it. He scoffs and pilfers your margarita glass. Fucker is drinking your cocktail while looking you in the eyes. This only drives you to a point of afflictive angst, and you once again seek to justify the circumstances. Just one last time.

“I mean it!”

That’s a very... plausible interpretation.

The abyss of blue in his eyes behind his sunglasses knocks you sideways. You can’t do anything about it.

“Remind me again why I should believe you?”

Finally, he says something, and something cold, something roseate, drizzles into your heart.

“Uhh,” you falter and make a pseudo frown, “listen to your gut and your heart. I think... yes! Trust me when I’m telling the truth, my good friend. All hail the power of friendship!”

For every second you waste sitting with Leon, you unconsciously lose your conversational and persuasive faculties. Not a good rapport; you feel like a psychopath with a double personality and so forth.

What you look like to Leon is a guileful suck-up at best.

He pities you, but perhaps his heart melts too. You leave a strangeness on Leon’s tongue, like the mysteries and absurdities of the Bermuda Triangle when you two come together. Funny how he knows what you taste like without tasting you.

Does that make sense?

Cute, he thinks; you don’t even attempt to slut-shame him for his past. He wants to believe you’re in the clear, but he can’t resist giving you a little piece of his mind. For now. At least until Hunnigan figures out whose name put that spectacular viral video of Leon’s dick on the Internet.

“So? Are we still friends?” you rhetorically ask, just to be sure for once.

“No,” he says tersely, forthrightly even. Shithead.

“Just gotta make sure you really didn’t do it.”

Call it a hunch or the sixth sense, but Leon knows you didn’t upload that one particular video. Hunnigan was quick to take care of the matter, expunging the videotape from the entire history of the internet. A few people may have seen what they could see, but America has more substantive matters to settle. All Leon needs here is a little dalliance with you.

In antagonism to his ambitions, you barely have time for an inauguration, much less a speck of free time for him.

Hence, you stand up, all the more assertively. Not that he hates it; he likes the little attitude and mannerisms you’re giving.

“Sounds like it’s your problem.”

You want to show off, but your aptitude in this field does not know the right vernacular. You suck at flirting, and you really want to leave.

“I’m still mad at you. You need to make it up to me,” he echoes your words without spoiling his deportment.

“Like I said, your problem,” you give him a goodbye wave. “Good night, and have sweet dreams.”

You part ways, if only for a season. As far as Leon is concerned, you’re still on the list of suspects, and it’s something that he definitely needs to tackle, but for the time being, he has to recede from the spotlight for his very reputation.

Let the sting of that scandalous video subside so that people can find something else to talk about and forget it for the next episode of something more debauched.

Not always do people associate a former porn star with a government agent. It’s a very tongue-in-cheek deal, but Leon never knew how to stay on the good side with his father, and he grew up as an incorrigible kid, so his father cut him off from his money.

Since his college tuition wouldn’t pay for itself unless someone like the fairy who helped Cinderella came alive, Leon ended up working for a crummy company as a last-ditch effort. He hit twenty-one, and he found himself sucking pussy in front of the cameras like his life depended on it.

A five-month-long process and a timetable that would greatly tarnish his morality. That stuff was too damn much for his little heart. Better to do it as a “camboy” for the sake of monetization later on – the die was cast.

Then Raccoon City kicked in, and things spiraled out of control for him. For a while, Leon went into a period of estrangement from everything he’d ever known.

Until then, you showed up – absolutely out of the blue – and gave him another flashback of his odious past on that stupid TV screen.

Doesn’t that give him the right to blame you? It’s more than enough.

Keeping a “close” eye on you is just another one of his foibles. Not something he had planned, and it’s certainly not healthy. On Leon’s behalf, touching base with Hunnigan and asking about your whereabouts doesn’t sit well with him. Something inside him kept reheating and reheating like a leftover meal from last night, that what he was doing felt wrong but also that it was necessary.

He scarcely had a week off work, but to spend it following you around gives him a perverse pleasure.

Now, he’s simply addicted to his own suffering.

In such wise, he follows you, deep sea and cross-ocean, dark doom and curious. Italy to the States, from the States to Canada, and to California again.

The crossing of your paths is just as “serendipitous.”

One night, as you are about to ask the bartender to do a refill on your hideously strong scotch, you coincidentally make eye contact with the guy sitting one seat away from you.

The classic sets of blue eyes. He’s in the distance and observes you from afar – it’s like a summons to his company. Can’t really blame his eyes – they’re the only interesting thing to look at around.

It’s Leon.

You’d say a “hi” or “hey”. It’s no big deal, and you like your friends.

Only you’re chickening out, and he’s not your friend; besides, peeping at your boyfriend’s brother (well, ex-boyfriend) and letting him do the same to you might not be your proudest moment.

Since you’re absolutely determined not to join him, Leon himself stands up and puts his glass on the bar. He slides onto the stool next to you – under his breath that smells of minty chewing gum – and gives what appears to be a frazzled sigh.

“Does it ever grace you, ignoring me like that?” He tuts at you.

“Maybe I just wanted to be alone.” You smile, biting back the acute inclination to roll your eyes, feeling the liquor sizzle in your throat as you take a big gulp.

“Hm. Copy that.” Leon leans back a little, studying (appraising!) you. Hard not to flounder under the rapt fixation of his glance, as it lingers on your eyes for half a second too long, and it’s almost as if you’re the only thing he pays any mind to in the room.

Shit. Is it working?

It’s working.

For every second that washes away between you, he looks even better in your eyes. You could swear there’s a spell cast on his eyes, inveigling you in. It’s abysmal; he’s abysmal.

“I don’t believe you.”

“When the hell have you ever believed me anyway?” You tip back the rest of your pint.

Oh, he hears you loud and clear. Leon knows more or less what it is that you’re being so uptight about. In the back of his mind, he recognizes how bitter he’s been with you and that you do deserve a quick mitigation.

“I’ve always been a supporter of you. You just got me mixed up, beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Your own choice of wording doesn’t even speak for itself. It’s equally fatuous to expect that you did manage to convince him. You manifestly are flushing.

“Wrong again. You didn’t get up and walk away. You would have gladly done it if you wanted to. Hell, you’d be bitching about me sitting next to you in the first place.”

In spite of your inner voice begging you to abscond and save yourself, your body is pertinaciously attached to that stool, and you loathe to tell him he’s absolutely justified. This is why you fall quiet, and Leon loves it, not in secret but overtly and nakedly.

“I’m going back to the States tomorrow.” You launch your escape plan. He was interested in you before, but seeing how well you adhere to the dignity you are trying to manifest, he itches to get close to you, to touch you, and feel you. To take away that “good girl” pretense. Stripping you naked like rose petals is just a prelude to the ritual.

“Can’t you stay with me a little longer?”

“You don’t understand, Leon. The flight’s so early. I need some sleep.”

Excuses, excuses.

“Aww, shame,” he wittingly leaves a white and an electrically charged void between his question and his amative suggestion, “I can think of a few more things I’d like to do with you, you see.”

“Oh, can you?”

Pretend you’re not impressed, cold, cold, rude.

“Yeah,” he sings, smiling affably down at you, “all I’m asking is if you wanna fuck. With me.”

“With... you?”

Something about this guy makes you almost feel like a chaste virgin. Almost. Certainly, he would coax you and actually say that, judging from the type of background material (his... given career) you’ve amassed, he doesn’t exactly give you the overall illusion that he’s the type to play on the matters. That’s the picture you’re reading. Must be an old habit of his: talking dirty and saying what he wants so bluntly without a backward second thought. Even so, you gape at him – allegorically and disconcertingly attuned to the proximity between your very bodies.

He idly swishes the dregs of the liquor and ice cubes left in his glass. Under the bar, you two are perilously close, his knee cradling your thigh, drawing a mucronate intake of gasp from you.

“With me.”

Leon dips his head, drinking in the authentic scent of the perfume you’ve painstakingly sprung on the right side of your neck. Against him, you recline slightly, your head inclining upwards to make space for his teeth to bruise your neck. Leon, against your better judgment, recoils to the side. You let out a soft “oh?” under your breath. Motherfucker. It’s a suit of absolute assholery not to deliver what you want the most when you need it the most – the very thing Leon would do.

“I’m still waiting for an answer here. Say the word, and I’m all yours.”

He’s already dead set on you, all along, from the moment he had you in his sights, but what he really wants to see on your pretty face is the certain voracity that he’s felt for you. For Leon, it’s the most sublime mirage he’ll ever have – to see his girl like that and in that shape.

“Do I want to do... what?”

“Me. Do you want me?” Leon elaborates on your words for you. He can be generous like that.

Just as generous when he kisses you in the bathroom of a dive bar. He kisses you filthy, tongue-fucking your mouth in perfect rhythm with the pumping of his two fingers inside your weeping pussy. You bleed on his fingers, and Leon scissors them inside you while he mouths indecorous things into your mouth and grinds the heel of his palm against your clit.

Shame he doesn’t take the time to pledge to make you cum on his digits. Plus, there’s no subtlety in his gesture as he pushes you against the cold, cold tiles. Not that you’d expect this kind of affection from him. By now, you’ve undoubtedly deciphered the sort of man he is, but the way he shows off as he licks your arousal, glistening on his fingertips, is just as inexplicable. It’s the thing you can’t figure out, and it has the effect of numbing you with a groan through gritted teeth.

Tugging at your skirt and ruching it up until it’s a waistband – now that’s the crudest of the crudities. Leaves you homesick for his caresses and kisses.

“Look at you.”

Out of the question, just like how your panties are out of the picture now. You can’t think coherently and look at yourself at the same time.

Ass out, pussy bare, you let his finger paw at the nylon fabric of your tights, leaving a gaping hole. In other words, he’s ruining you, and you’re acting like you need it. You need him, indeed.

Leon shudders in the pent-up tightness of the pucker that squeezes around his cock as he slides inside you, shaping your insides along the way as he does so. A string of self-conscious words, of dirty promises praising you, trammel at the base of his sore throat.

He lurches clumsily to your ass with a hand and leans a little lower to your ear as he takes a lump of puffy flesh, eliciting another fluctuating whimper from your lips. “Arch back for me, beautiful. Just a little so I can fill you all up.”

Oh, God. You want that. You want it so badly, so you arch back so beautifully. The sugariness of your exhale and his sigh mingle as he slowly melts into you, disappearing inch by inch. Your thighs tremble as you close in at your limits, and you hear him rasping, “That’s it. You’re doing amazing, pretty.”

Right then and there, you might crash, but the hand ghosting around your waist from behind intones that all is well. Your whimpers and the clenching of your pussy, every ounce of praise that ricochets in your ears – he can feel you scorching inside. First and one-night stands are hardly ever this romantic, especially for Leon, for whom this is very much a debut. Despite the arrogance of his conduct as a rule, Leon doesn’t hold any disrespect for the women he fucks, and he doesn’t abate his ministrations to you while you’re so nicely grasping him inside you. He hits slower when he catches you slamming your fist into the ceramic wall with a thump, and he pounds harder when your lovely hands reach for him again; he relishes in how you push your hips into him and drill him raw, trying to fuck yourself wretchedly. Sequentially, he fucks the fleeting kisses on your cervix, lingering and volatile, fingers curled tightly in yours. You’re both tense but reckless.

“Fuck,” is the foul-mouthed note under his breath, and you eagerly savor every second of him filling you until your sublimate wails ring out and bounce off the walls of the private restroom. How embarrassing it is to be so out of it in a lavatory, and how utterly crushing it is that the person fucking you from behind is none other than your ex-boyfriend’s brother. The memories are gnawing at you, but Leon fucks you just well enough to kill the charade once and for all.

“P-ah! Please!” You cry out depravedly.

It’s just as vertiginous to see those pearly crooked teeth so close, and the bruise biting into your neck is just as narcotizing. A competition, too, and the more moans he pulls out of you, the closer he is to laurels.

Repel the drive to cram your legs together a little while he grasps your thigh with one hand, holding it up and apart enough to malleate all the way. His thumb promptly abrades your clit, and with measured rolls of his hips, the tip of his cock tickles lightly over that spongy spot inside you.

“Need more. Please.” Your plea transpires in an aquaking objection. You can’t even breathe; it all feels like you’re trapped in a nightmare, and your voice is never enough for crying help. The difference is this is very much real life, and he hears you faultlessly. Leon knows what you need from him.

Moments before you can find yourself coming, as that all-consuming, sweltering heat envelops your body, Leon retracts the hand he has been playing with your starving clit.

“Leon, fuck you!” Blinking open your closed eyes, you’re cussing out, and there he is with his hand on your neck, his thumb threading your vein, which is pulsing in hot red from his previous bite. Soothing? You really don’t think so. He just likes to feel you up.

“See what a fucking sight you have become,” he coos, bent on shaming you into decorum. Angling your head with a thumb under your chin, he entombs you below his jaw, his bicep enfolding your cheek securely. In the mirror, it’s you and Leon – winded, debauched. Curse yourself a thousand times inside for not wiping your lipstick. You look like a shitty cosplayer of the Joker; mascara flakes off your eyelashes, and your clothes are beyond reproach. Beside Leon, you look like a girl he fucked in one of those cheesy old porn videos you’ve been snooping around with, and next to you, he looks perfectly fine. You, indeed, recreate the ones titled “college slut bends over her classmate and her grades skyrocket, blah blah.”

Very aroused and minutely fucked.

“You won’t take any cock that doesn’t carry the Kennedy label, huh, baby?”

You avoid eye contact no matter what.

“Leon, God, I need-” You bleat, maybe a notch squeakier, and he automatically tugs you by the back of your neck, braiding your hair in his fingers. You hate it when your eyes mist up, but it’s not hard enough to make you break down in tears, yet it’s hard enough to sever strands of your hair. Ruleful he is, panting puffs of revilement.

“Hush now,” his voice drifts into your ear with a dash of amusement in it. “You want them to come and find us? That what you want?”

“Sorry, but please?” You, too, whisper back, and your teeth clatter, blood thin on your tongue.

“There you go.” Only then does he give you what you want. He reaches out and finds the delicate spot between your thighs, thumbing the pearl of your clit much more vigorously.

A heartfelt pledge of alms from him grants you the right to rest on his shoulder. You cling to his every thrust, and he circles your frayed nerve bundles. How everything can be too much and yet so damned meager is beyond your fathomable comprehension. Your eyes almost roll back to your skull, and Leon is bucking from the sheer pleasure of the bliss of the heat covering his cock, your pussy gushing around him. Blankets him just flawlessly.

There is no stopping; he pushes you against the wall for another round before you can even get your head in a regular whirl. He needs more. Who could really leave a beautiful girl who takes him so nicely anyway? He certainly won’t let you go, least not until he gets what he wants.

“On your knees, now.” His teeth bite into his lower lip.

You can’t make sense of his blunt demands and the words that tumble out of his mouth before you come to your senses.

“Huh? Now?” You hiss out the melting brain molecules from your brain as you speak.

“If you want a facial, then turn around and kneel down. Will you?” He asks once more, demanding, choking on his air.

Hard to believe how you get down on your feeble, wobbly knees, but you come to terms with the fact that you can do anything when you want to. Leon tap-taps the head of his cock against your cheek despite his terrible pull-out klutziness. Glissades nicely against the pucker of your lips, blurring the color of your flesh into hot whites. Can you imagine how appealing it looks, mouth open and letting him pleasure himself over your knees on the filthy mosaic floor? The dignity you’ve been trying to maintain since you met him is in shambles, making your knees bleed as if they were splintered because of a cracked mirror.

Yet you do the rest, your hands on your knees, and swipe the tip of your tongue over the flushing head of his half-erect dick. Not too deep since your poor throat is all patchy from moaning like a porn star, and definitely not too sluggish. Just enough to taste and spruce up the situation.

“That’s it, good girl, swallow it.”

Even his minutest words encourage you more than you already are.

In the next split second, you pop his cock out of your mouth in the worst kind of graphic sound, and Leon groans only unhesitatingly. He mumbles out something rather nebulous. His moony gaze lands on your moue, and he swears his heart makes a leap in his chest.

Bloodless blues imbed on your irises, but it’s not for persistent minutes - only for a spell.

The magic eventually gives up the ghost.

He simply flicks a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping the salad of chaos off your face. Warmth drips from the corner of your mouth, and Leon dabs it away with his own finger, your fingertips tingling and glued to the corner of the sink so you don’t fall down. Still busy rebounding yourself together, Leon refastens his belt and zips up his fly. He throws the discarded handkerchief in the trash, reaches for your hands, and hoists you to your feet as if you were made of feathers.

“You okay?” He gives you his casual, day-to-day inquiry, as if what happened seconds ago was nothing extraordinary.

“Yeah,” you auto-answer, reeling in a groggy daze. Meditatively, you are still recovering. You feel so full that semen is leaking out of your nostril, but it’s only a psychological manifesto, and you look still lovely in this mess.

“Good.” Leon stows a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear. Such a random ploy; hell, even he wasn’t expecting it. No traces of rapt Leon in the flicker of those awkward seconds that pass between you.

On the contrary, he’s almost unbelievably sweet, kind, and thoughtful.

Although you went your separate ways after that night, your text messaging phrase (bottom note: sexting) didn’t terminate. He makes you feel like a doltish teenager in high school, and you have to be quite honest: you like it.

So does he.

Only time will tell- and surprises often have a way of tugging at the heartstrings. You don’t have any idyllic dreams of having a boyfriend, but perhaps you want to shoot new videos with him, the hottest ones - to be his partner in that aspect of the relationship.

The first thing, and the rule of thumb, is you have to secure his assent. Hopefully, he’ll give you that “yes”, and you’ll be the next rising star because he always says you fuck so prettily.

[miley1442111]

thank god for dr. spencer reid

a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))

summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?

pairing: spencerreid x reader

warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!

My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and  just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me. 

I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck. 

“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her. 

“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”

My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.

“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-” 

“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh. 

“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.

“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman. 

He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

I just nod back, a small smile on my lips. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist. 

“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious. 

“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years  of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now. 

“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. 

“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”

“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.” 

“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes. 

“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him. 

“You are.”

“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.

“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid. 

[m1sa-w1sa]

Animal Party!

The harbingers finding out you had a pet

(Some of the animals are tigers lions bears sharks etc etc, characters might be a bit OOC cuz this is kinda a crackfic but if yall want more srs ones lmk)

Tartaglia

For him Lets say you had a pet bear it would go kinda like this, since you and him live in a big house you wanted a big backyard, he never knew why but he Never said no, his siblings could run around there so when he came home from work you were not anywhere to be found.. until he heard you call someone a “goodboy” from the backyard, his bow was already drawn as he would have a stern expression on his face until he saw you with a bear. “[NAME]…” “So i forgot to tell you…” “WHY DIDN’T YOU THEM ME SOONER?! HE’S SO CUTE!” overall tatamis loves the bear

Scaramouche

For Scaramouche you had a cat a fluffy white one, this time you went over to visit him with your cat just hanging out in her purse “Took you long enough-… What the fuck is that..” “Its [CATS NAME]…” I deeply feel like scaramouche would be jealous if the cat took to much of your attention but would warm up to the cat, not enough to not show at least a HINT of jealousy

Arlecchino

So You had a spider for this (if you dont like spiders then imagine something else) and again you went to visit her, Arlecchino actually does like spiders (or just insects in general based on voice lines) so wheb she sees one crawling on you she was surprised that you had one just hanging around, She doesn’t mind it and also gets close to the spider, Leney (idk if i spelt his name right) almost killed it becuase he thought it was creepy😞

Signora

You have a silly little snake!!! This can go either way you visit her, she visits you..OR she sees it slithering around and she calls you over “[NAME]! WHAT THE FUCK—“ “Signora! You found [SNAKE NAME]! Thank you!!” Signora would be surprised and confused..how can you live with that…THING?! Why is it built like that… Signora is ALRIGHT with your pet she isn’t to fond with it but would take care of it for you

Pantalone

You have a cat! Not the small one a BIG one so.. a lion for him you TOLD him you had a cat..just not what KIND of cat “Pantalone do you want to see my pet?” “Of course [NAME] it cant go that bad..” It went that bad, when he came to visit you and saw a whole ass LION he froze when did you get the beast?! “Ha..[NAME] you said you had a cat..” “I know! This is [LIONS NAME]!” “Why didnt you say that you had a lion?” “It was less fun..” hes alright its pretty tame, (might get a little jealous from all the attention the lions getting…)

Dottore

Simple way to put it, you have a shark said and done same with Pantalone you TOLD him just not that detailed in your words “Dottore you like fish right? You wana meet mine?” “Sure, I suppose it wouldn’t be that much of a hassle..” Well when he cane over he wondered why your house had a pool in the backyard, until he saw the fin sticking out of the water “See Dottore? This is [SHARK NAME]! “You said you had a fish” He doesn’t really care for it because he doesn’t go swimming often or study the oceans yet but he isn’t going to tell you to give it away

Columbina

You had a swan, a elegant animal it was plain and simple so there isn’t that much convincing that the animal WONT hurt them, You and Columbina have hang outs (aka dates..) by the pond, She only REALLY opens her eyes around you (she wears the mask so she wouldn’t fall in love with someone else again but your a exception) and saw that you had a swan with you she was like a kid in a candy shop in her eyes it was a perfect animal for someone as perfect as you! She loves your swan and has a good relationship with it

Sandrone

You had a hamster (a FAT one) it was just in your hands eating sunflower seeds (ofc it is..) as you were going to find your beloved Sandrone “[NAME] whats the dust in your hand for?” “Its my Hamster!” “What..” Sandrone is sarcastic so she does make jokes how its a fucking FATASS but she secretly thinks its cute and would do anything for that little fur-ball

Capitano

You have a fox! I feel like when he found out you didn’t know he was off today, so you were outside playing with your little fox friend while he looked at you, even if his face was covered he had a small soft smile who ever knew that his s/o could be so cute..but he doesn’t know much about taking care of animals so he loves hearing you talk about it and slowly warms up to your fox!^^

Peirro

Last but not least! You owned a monkey (or a spider monkey) but you and your monkey go EVERYWHERE together so its not hard for him to figure it out, since you two starting dating he was introduced to your monkey, he doesn’t mind that silly little fella he just wants to spend time with you and sometimes when your off doing errands or something else, your monkey just hangs out with Peirro, one time, Peirro had the monkey on his shoulders while in a fatui meeting (I feel like any of them would take your pet to a metting when there good with them, besides the shark… sadly)

(We are finished! I really hoped you enjoyed this!!^^ Tags: @jadestone2 )

[monstersandmaw]

My love letter to Scar and Lex from AVP

aka 'why AVP is definitely a love story XD'

(I was talking to someone about this yesterday who is definitely not a monsterfucker, and they were not convinced by my take on AVP at all XD. I think this is definitely a monsterfucker spin on the movie)

_

her expression when she's peeking through the wall and watching him go through his scarring ritual is curious, not fearful

he's obviously curious about her too, and doesn't attack, letting her say her piece before deciding what to do about her

she's the one who calls him friend first :) (admittedly, it's in an 'enemy of my enemy' context, but hey)

he could kill her here, but hesitates a long time:

He's clearly torn about letting her come with him, but when he sees her looking at him like this, he can't help but want to assist her:

He does not have time to waste hacking a xenomorph to bits, let alone giving Lex Xeno Biology: 101, but he does it all the same, and he even makes a little joke to lighten the situation

He cobbles together some gear to keep her safe:

His plucky human goes first into the danger ahead, but he's there, guarding her back. Plus, he's taller so he can see ahead too:

He lets her take care of her friend and doesn't butcher him to get at the parasite/hatchling/chestburster. Instead he waits for her to leave, then catches the thing and destroys it (so as not to upset her further?):

Even in the heart of the hatchery, where time is 100% of the essence, he pauses yet again to explain the self-destruct feature on his vambrace to her: (10/10 for communication, Scar)

Yautja can run way faster than humans, but he stays half a pace behind her for the entire escape sequence:

Tell me this isn't the face of a man in wonder at the person before him:

And Lex isn't exactly... unaffected... oof

Then he waits for her to nod her consent, and does a really tidy job of marking her as a Blooded, and his concentration is to the max!! (his little purr after he's finished is so cute too). The he bows in respect to her. She may be human, but she's his equal as a warrior.

After Lex has saved his life and injured (and seriously pissed off) the Alien Queen, and while she's tearing the place to bits to get at Lex, Scar does the most Extra™ spin attack to draw her attention away from Lex, lodging his combistick right through her face. Bad. Ass!

Then while Lex gets away, he roars and flares his mandibles in a challenge at the Queen, which gives Lex the opportunity she needs to pick up the chain, and the two of them haul on it together and work seamlessly. They clearly understand each other without the need for words, or ego. This is very much a Team Effort:

He protecc:

Bonus Alien vs Predator shot :)

This heartbreaking scene, where he feels like he's trying to tell her something (in the novel, he apparently says 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' in her voice...)

Lex seems genuinely grief-stricken when he dies:

I wonder how long she stayed there like that before the Ancient's ship showed up?

Lex' final expression:

In short, this definitely is an inter-species love story and you can pry that theory from my cold, dead little claws :).

Also why did he have to die??? T.T

[deathbxnny]

Jing Yuan, blade, & Bailu with platonic older!Reader that’s like Xianyun. Like they had a similar relationship that Xianyun, Shenhe, & Ganyu have with Jing & Blade and with Bailu it’s basically Xianyun and Yaoyao.

(Aka mother mothering)

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Omg I absolutely love this ask Anon, it's so cute! Thank you for the great request and I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, older parent figure reader, angst, fluff, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》BAILU

Bailu gets herself in trouble rather often. Whether it be through slacking off her duties or just running off into unexpected situations, she's constantly getting into something. Hence why you are always forced to get her out of it one way or another. Despite your rather arrogant and know-it-all behavior, your love and care for Bailu made it hard for you to stay angry with her for long. With that said, you usually take on the responsibility of her chaos and lecture her in your own way later on.

You definitely give her lessons and teach her about the world in a more proper manner, even if she hates your lectures and often claims that they are "boring" adult things. But she enjoys watching you tinker away at your newest inventions, especially when you allow her to help as well.

She at times finds your overbearing nature a bit suffocating, but she also believes that you're the only grown up that does truly understand her. You treat her with respect and praise her intelligence, something she appreciates greatly. She may not always see eye to eye with you, but she knows that you'll always be there for her if things go south.

》BLADE

Blade was a young boy when he was first taken into your care. He was loud and proud, always the one to believe that his judgments and choices were correct even if they weren't. He saw your care as a hassle at times, especially as your overbearing nature would often get "into his way". But over a short amount of time, he quickly learned that if anything, you were the only one who truly understood his ways.

With that said, your absence after he was mara-struck left a hole in him that he didn't like to admit he had. You used to take care of him, brush his hair, patch up his injuries from training, feed him delicious food. He would fall asleep to the sound of you tinkering away through the night, always so focused on your projects, yet would gently tuck him in every time beforehand.

You loved him as your own. You truly did. And that left him wondering what you'd think of him now. He wasn't the same boy anymore. He was a sick man now, plagued by an incurable sickness that made him seek out the comfort of death rather than your own. And if he asked you to kill him, would you agree? His mind reeled with distant, distorted memories whilst he watched you go about your day on the Xianzhou from the shadows.

》JING YUAN

He appreciated you greatly, far more than he'd ever tell you or you'd know. You raised him into the man he was today, and Heaven's did you work hard for that. He knows that he wasn't always an easy child to deal with, especially not with his wild ambitions and higher aims for glory, but you still made it work even with your overbearing nature. Jing Yuan liked claiming that he would've never made it so far without you, even if you'd wave him off with a flustered shake of your head.

Whilst his master only taught him the art of the sword, you taught him the way of life. You fostered his potential. You saw the value in him and wanted him to exceed in more than war and carnage. Just like your many cherished inventions, he too saw himself as one of them, your favorite one, in fact. You put him through all kinds of lessons, made him into an intelligent young man who questioned everything around him. You wanted him to do good, to do great, and to help people instead of hurting them. And you were so proud when he did exactly that.

With that said, he definitely gets embarrassed whenever you happily tell others about more troublesome parts of his youth so lovingly. He understands your sentiments and chuckles at the memories with you, glad to know that he'll always be yours even as a grown man.

[princeoftheeternalbog]

hiii

Could do nicknames one peice characters would call you?? Xx

I love you🫶 YES I WILL TEEHEE

Suggestive in Sanji and Namis part but mostly sfw!

I only did the strawhats this time but without further ado: petnames/nicknames op characters call you🫶

Luffy

I think Luffy would pick something really cute like flower, like in the morning when he tackles you out of your hammock to wake you up and he's like "GOODMORNING FLOWER :DDDD" while squishing you(😐).

OR he would refer to your future title aka consort of the pirate king(cocky mf). Even if you correct him like oh well you're not king of the pirates yet he just keeps saying 'but why can't I say it now' until you give up. LOVES when you call him my king or my sunshine, it makes him feel all gooey inside. He likes other nicknames too but those ones especially.

Zoro

Surprisingly a classic sort of guy, he'll call you hun or love, mostly always in private. But if he thinks someone is bothering you he'll purposefully say it really loudly like "oh hey LOVE I was looking for you" while glaring at the person.

Always says it in the softest, sweetest tone when you're alone. Seriously he's like some romance drama lead the way he's sighing around the word when he's holding you close. Blushes so pretty when you call him a petname back even if it's the most cringey, disgusting petname like pookie wookie. Like he'll cringe but still blush.

Sanji

Probably uses almost every name you can think of but especially darling, mon amour and sweetheart. Says them in every tone imaginable and he says them in a very specific way when you're alone, sometimes he'll say them that way in public to fluster you though (asshole🫶).

Jokes on him though because he folds really easily for the same trick. One time you said baby in that tone on deck and he tripped and fell over so... you're the real winner here. He likes to act very confident and he can be but he very often finds himself with wobbly legs around you- he can't help it you're just too fine.

Usopp

Babylove, sweetheart, pretty thing, YES I KNOW OKAY LISTEN JUST HEAR ME OUT- I just think once he gets over the honeymoon phase and he's comfy then he's smooth as fuck. Like this man is fine okay and once he knows what hes doing, he KNOWS yk. Always says them directly in your ear though🫣, he's still too shy to look you in the face while saying that sort of thing. Like he's slick but he's also sweating and trembling while he romances you.

Also he absolutely blushes bright red when you say anything of the sort to him. One 'hey pretty boy' and it's over for his blood pressure, one time he fainted and he was so embarrassed that he avoided being alone with you for a week.

Nami

Sunshine and treasure(in like every single language she can think of). Either says it in the sweetest tone ever or the most scary and she never uses your name unless she's really really scared or relieved (or during the...thing).

LOVES any and every nickname but if you say something cringe in front of somebody she makes you pay a fee😭. Fr 200 berry just for you to call her shnookems in front of Chopper, its mostly because the cringy nicknames somehow make her feel shy like omg you love me enough to confidently call me cuddle muffin ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ how disgusting (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾). But also she uses this money to buy you little gifts and trinkets so can you complain(yes).

Robin

Love, honey or sweetheart. Says it in this cute little sing song voice you didn't know she had and it's just so sweet and enticing fr she got you floating over there like a sailor drowning to a siren's song. But seriously if she's using a petname then you know she's in a really affectionate mood which means lots of touching and kisses!

Her favourite nickname that you call her is 'my wife'. Listen I think she's secretly quite intense romantically so hearing you defend her to someone by going "THAT'S MY WIFE" really does something to her heart. She tries for ages to trick you into saying it again so she can record it and listen back whenever she wants(You give her a recording for her birthday).

Franky

Babe, baby, cutie and probably something really corny like superstar🫶. Definitely the type of person to holler "THATS MY BABY✨✨" while you're kicking someone's ass and it's really embarrassing but simultaneously really reassuring.

And tbh a nickname is usually followed by a kiss, well actually most of his interactions with you are followed by a kiss- Anyways he loves it when you call him one back especially those classic ones like my love or darling, fr he's obsessed. Will absolutely tell everyone what you just called him and if he ever gets hit on he says some stupid dramatic shit like: "Only one person will ever call me their love..." Like shut up😭.

Brook

Dearheart. Iykyk. He finds dearheart is the only petname that even slightly encompass how he feels about you, and besides that he's a very classic guy. ALWAYS kisses some part of you after he says it, usually you're forehead because he's quite tall but sometimes he kisses your hand like some fairytale prince.

Blushes really easily at being called pet names especially more modern ones like baby, gently chides you for it but secretly loves it. It's like those clips of chopper where he pretends he's not flattered by a compliment😭 Brook is fr like "Oh my- please don't call me such things in public" while he's giggling like this:

Jinbei

Love, butterfly, starlight, dewdrop and anything that makes you flustered. He's secretly quite chaotic when he wants to be and he loves seeing you laugh so he tries to make you as happy as possible at all times. Despite how often he uses beautiful flowery language with you, he's quite shy with physical touch so he's stood like 6ft away going "My starlight you are prettier than anything in this world"😭.

Adores any pet name with the word my in front of it. Like my love, my baby, my man, he's just in love with you and he thinks he should be kissing you at all times! Sweetest man ever to be honest.

[skania]

Oshi no Ko Chapter 154 Thoughts - Or the many many parallels between Ai/Kamiki and Akane/Aqua

In my post about last chapter, I listed a number of parallels showing that the way Kamiki felt about Ai is very reminiscent of the way Aqua felt about Akane.

I also said:

if Aka pulls that, then that would confirm that all of these parallels are very much intentional.

And what did Aka pull this chapter?

To top it off, now it isn't only Kamiki's feelings that parallel Aqua's. Ai's feelings are very much like Akane's, to the point that she nearly quotes her word for word at times 😭

I'll start chronologically because the amount of parallels is just insane. To keep this short, I won't bring up the Kamiki/Aqua parallels since I already went over those here. I'll just focus on Ai!

Ai didn't want to break up with Kamiki, but she did it because she feared that she and her children would be burdens to him, who was almost on the verge of breaking due to the weight of life.

Does that ring any bells?

Akane didn't want to break up with Aqua, but she was willing to do so because she feared that she and their fake relationship were burdening him by worsening the weight of his guilt.

Ai wanted to stay with Kamiki forever, just like Akane with Aqua.

Ai wanted to carry Kamiki's burden and walk into the future with him, just like Akane with Aqua.

Ai didn't know what loving someone felt like, but Kamiki was the first time she felt she wanted to love someone that way. Akane didn't know what loving someone that way felt like, either. Aqua was her first.

Most importantly:

Ai wanted to save Kamiki, just like Akane wants to save Aqua. While it was translated as "help" in English, in Japanese Ai uses the exact same verb as Akane when she says that she wants to "save" Aqua.

Even their expressions when thinking about their wish are similar 😭

And the thing is that — technically, logically — none of this can be a coincidence, because this is a fictional story and Aka is nearly using copy-pasting to stablish these parallels. But since this is Aka we're talking about, whether this will lead anywhere or turn out to be just bait remains to be seen lol

I feel like Ai isn't only paralleling Akane this chapter though, it's also possible to establish parallels between her and Aqua. Namely, Aqua also broke up with Akane to protect her, Aqua didn't understand what love was and he showed that he wanted to love Akane despite it.

Plus, when Aqua broke up with Akane to protect her, he did so in a way that would deliberately paint him in a bad light — just like Ai with Kamiki.

I'd also like to point out that in this chapter, Ai's feelings are described as, well, "Ai" 愛. In Japan, "Ai" 愛 is the strongest form of love, which can be either platonic or romantic. This is very relevant, because by making Ai's feelings for Kamiki so strikingly similar to Akane's for Aqua, Aka has essentially confirmed strongly implied that the kind of love Akane feels for Aqua is "Ai" 愛, too.

And Ai's "Ai" 愛 was romantic.

For those who aren't familiar with the concept of "Ai" in Japan, I feel like this post explains it very well:

愛 (Ai): sacrificial, unconditional, love for the other person's sake (often parallels the Greek agape, but can extend into philos as sawa mentions) 恋 (Koi): selfish, conditional, love for one's own sake (often parallels the Greek eros) While both can be used for romantic love, you cannot simply swap out one for the other. The contrast between the two shows up clearly in the したい forms of 愛する and 恋をする: 愛(Ai)したい I want to love [someone in a deep, unconditional way] 恋(Koi)がしたい I want to [fall in] love [with someone and experience the "high" of being in love]

If you ask me, the contrast between those two types of love perfectly exemplifies the difference with the way Akane's and Kana's feelings are being written. Coincidentally, Kana herself described her feelings as 恋 (Koi) in Chapter 150 lol

So considering all of this, I'm having the hardest time not seeing Kamiki and Ai as a sort of "failed" Aqua and Akane. Kamiki and Ai were too broken, and neither could handle their relationship in a healthy way despite their best intentions and how much they loved each other. Kamiki was too dependant on her, Ai broke up with him in the clumsiest way possible and Kamiki lashed out in a selfish, tragic way.

I'd argue that despite their mishaps, Aqua and Akane have already shown that they're healthier than Kamiki and Ai were. Even when he was at his lowest, Aqua was self-aware and did his best to not depend on Akane too much. When he faltered, Akane reminded him that it's important that they remain independent so they can have a healthy relationship.

Which takes me to something I think is very important:

Ai thought that Kamiki would be fine without her, but she was wrong. If she had been right, then maybe she would be alive today and she and Kamiki would've gotten back together later down the line.

I'm sure that Akane, too, thinks that Aqua will be fine without her. Aqua most definitely thinks the same thing about Akane.

And for them to be able to have a healthy relationship, it's important for them to be right. They need to be able to be fine without the other, and as of now, it seems like Aqua is finally making progress in that regard.

But what about being happier? Akane was at her happiest when she was with Aqua, and according to Aqua himself, it was the same for him. If we forget all the recent fiascos for a second and entertain the thought of Akane and Aqua once again, I feel like this should be the biggest factor into whether or not they get back together.

After all, if they get back together it shouldn't be because Aqua can't function without Akane. It should be because he wants to be with her (and she with him). So if Aka were to be a good writer allow them to find their way back to each other, this time spent apart could be crucial to let them restart on a healthy base.

But I digress! 😂 Instead of getting ahead of myself, I just want to enjoy the fact that these parallels are right there for everyone to see. At least no matter what happens, we now pretty much have confirmation that the way Aka wrote Aqua and Akane was both, romantic and the strongest form of love.

As for the plot, the fact that Ai's wish was this clear kind of opens an entire can of worms questions-wise. Moreover, I feel like if telling Kamiki that Ai loved him was Aqua's revenge plan all along, things like these would make very little sense in retrospective:

So for the sake of logic, I'm inclined to believe that Aqua, who didn't know what love was and who held a grudge against Kamiki, may have wanted to believe that Ai truly couldn't love Kamiki. He may have desperately wanted to believe that Ai was saying the truth, because otherwise taking revenge against Kamiki would mean going against Ai's wishes.

I feel like Aqua originally misinterpreting Ai's words is supported by the fact that even during the movie recording, Aqua was shown to not understand Ai.

So, what changed his mind? What made him finally realize that Ruby's portrayal was right and that Ai truly did love Kamiki?

Plus, Aqua has had that DVD for years now, which means that nothing was stopping him from realizing that Akane herself was echoing Ai's feelings for Kamiki throughout their relationship.

But I better stop myself right here, because if I start theorizing about this there will be no end to it. The possibilities are endless, so I'd rather just wait and let Aka either pleasantly surprise like he did this chapter me or continue to disappoint me as he is prone to do 😂

edit;

I just realized there are even more parallels when you get down to it. I mentioned before in my Chapter 97 post that during the phone-call that ultimately leads to their break-up, Aqua and Akane are like two ships in the night. They both want the same thing (to stay together), but in her haste to help him, Akane makes a choice that leads to their separation.

The same thing happens with Ai and Kamiki. They both want the same thing (to stay together), but in her haste to not burden him, Ai chooses to walk away from him.

Ai doesn't understand her own love and is thus unable to understand the extent of Kamiki's. She makes the mistake of thinking that the best way to save Kamiki is to not impose more burdens on him, when all he wanted was to stay with her. I'd argue something very similar happened with Akane. She made the mistake of thinking that the best way to help Aqua was to carry out his revenge for him, when all Aqua wanted from her was to remain by her side.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 2)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.

P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches

“Y/N Tessio?”

“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 

Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 

This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 

Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.

Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 

“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.

And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 

He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.

Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.

“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 

“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 

"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.

"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.

Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.

In Europe.

But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.

It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 

“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”

“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 

But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 

“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 

So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 

Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 

You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 

Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.

“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 

Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 

You didn’t react. 

You didn’t have to. 

All you did was keep watching the birds. 

Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.

“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 

“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 

You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 

“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 

“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”

You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”

“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”

“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 

Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 

“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 

“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.

Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.

Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan. Japan!

“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.

“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 

Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.

But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.

“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 

“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”

Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 

“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”

Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.

There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 

“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 

Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 

“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 

“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 

This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.

Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  

“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”

Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 

Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 

Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 

There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 

< prev ch [1] | next ch [3] >

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@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery

[gaddaboutgriffon]

Superwoman AU So, I have been seeing a lot of Justice League Gender Bent art lately and couldn’t help but think that for characters like Wonder Woman and Batman it doesn’t really work for. But the more I thought about it the more I realized that the change is REALLY interesting for one core member in particular. Superman.

Given the kryptonian power set the change doesn’t affect the fighting much, but it does change workplace relationships and social aspects of the civilian ID a lot.

For example, Clara Kent would most likely have a rivalry with Lois that borders on antagonistic. Not at all helped by Clara getting scoops that should be damn near impossible. Sure, when Clara is still new at the paper she likely would act as a mentor figure. But that would change really quick if Clara starts beating Lois to scoops and stories.

Clark Kent's sweet and dorky behavior on a male reporter is cute and charming but on a female journalist that is just neon sign to take advantage of her.

Jimmy may be her only good friend but given her physique that is hindered by Jimmy probably developing a crush on her. Which seen him more like a younger brother type friend is not reciprocated.

Then there is villain gallery. Again, the ones where is find there hidden whatever and then a physical fight to win. That is pretty much the same.

No, the villains things are different with are the ones that like to outsmart and play mind games.

Aka Lex Luthor.

And in Lex’s case the major difference again is in the interactions with Clara the civilian ID.

My thinking here is that while Lex Hates Superman because he can’t see anyone being that altruistic with so much power and it must an act. He actually really likes Clark Kent the mild-mannered reporter who in Lex’s eyes overcame humble beginnings and became a self-made successful reporter.

In this AU with Clara that gets amplified. See in a few different versions Lex attempted date and, in some cases, actual got so far as nearly marrying Lois. The attraction was largely based on the fact that she was a driven woman who was climbing in a difficult industry. It is part of Lex psychology is his value of Humans overcoming things with intelligence and will. and the difference with this AU is Clara has the farm girls start as opposed to Lois typical city or military daughter origin depending on the version. In Lex's eyes, Clara is starting out from a disadvantage to Lois and rising up to be just as successful a writer. In short, a better example of something Lex values.

It is just too good not to explore. So, if we go ahead and have Lex take interest in Clara, it would only take a good conversation for her to know there is something is wrong. But what if during her crime fighting, she ran across something that the talk with Lex makes her think he may behind it. So instead of the immediate rejection she wanted, she agrees to go out with him for opportunity to investigate.

Lex is a narcissistic egotist, and in most versions his parents were not a good example of love. and in most versions his Idea of love is a bit more like conquest. (Yeah, warning now, this is not going to go down in a good way.) He is also smart and knows how to cover his tracks. I don't think it would take him long to realize that Clara is looking for something. Here comes the dark idea I had. What if he arranges things so that if Clara tried to expose his crime empire it would look like it tied back to her instead. This also gets used to keep her from leaving. and if this is far enough in the timeline where Lex already is keeping kryptonite in a lead box in his pocket, Clara has to keep her secret identity tightly held. which means she has to go along with this until she can figure out how to bring him to justice.

Unfortunately, Lex did too good a job and Clara needs help. She turns to Jimmy and Lois. at this point Lois has been an antagonistic rival, for sniping stories from her and seemingly to have gotten the most eligible bachelor in metropolis. But once Clara explains what actually has been going on, Lois' attitude changes and is all on board for taking down the rich creep. thus, this AU's beginning of their friendship.

(well this is where I am ending this initial post. I'll add on or do a part two later. @emacrow thanks for listening to the initial idea. this post is the continuation.)

[millidew]

its been almost 6 years since kaito and ouma have infested me. here's me talking out of my ass for over 2k words

to love the ouma-kaito dynamic is to love the themes of v3. to see one of them as 100% correct and the other as 100% wrong is to hate the themes of v3.

there must be balance. which is one of the themes!

at first, they each represent one end of their spectrums: lies, distrust, and logic VS truth, trust, and emotion. but it's not all black and white— they're far more similar than they think

to get the obvious visual foiling out of the way: short vs tall, scrawny vs muscular, pale vs tan (relatively...), round eyes vs sharp eyes, cool purple vs warm purple, black and white vs a colorful galaxy, and a tight "straitjacket" vs what's basically loose pjs

they're visual opposites, but they're also both purple, charismatic leaders, would rather die than their let go of their respective roles of hero and villain, and both want to end the killing game. they're also both SO dramatic. they cannot be separated.

all this is to say that they're the same, just taking different approaches (i mean, just compare their early FTEs. what are you two FUCKING talking about. your ass is NOT a pirate kaito shut up). ouma hides drops of truth within his lies and lives to poke holes in others' poorly concealed lies. kaito talks about being honest, but is also constantly lying to himself and others. and it's so fitting for them to essentially die with each other.

lying your way to the truth, and 10 other tricks to surviving a killing game:

v3 is a game that asks: who are you? why are you even alive? what parts of you are really "you"?

in other words: what is true and what is a lie? does it matter?

the flashback lights are all lies. tsumugi can literally rewrite their "truth" as she wishes. and of course, there's the fact that they're all fictional characters come to life.

and there's the big lie of ch1, brought back in ch6. although this is less relevant to me, personally, because kaede fully intended and did try her damnedest to kill so either way she's still at fault soo

the theme of the survivors is that they all have a reason to fight to live even if the world is hell, because they're pushed forward by the connections they made— kaede's encouragements, the training with kaito that led to shuichi and maki's happiness, and himiko's memories of tenko and angie. even though maki loses kaito, because she had those good times with him that led to her change in self-worth, she'll be okay in the end. she's not enforcing her own loneliness anymore.

basically, "maybe the real reason to live is the friends we made along the way"

shuichi explicitly says that his feelings are true, even if they're born of lies. to lie, there has to be a truth. to be truthful, you can't lie. yin yang and all that

it's even shown with the game mechanic of perjury. kaede and shuichi can literally lie for the sake of finding the truth

he rejects being forced to choose between "hope" and "despair," breaking the cycle. it's pretty easy to apply this to the other dichotomies in v3: truth vs lies, trust vs distrust, logic vs emotion. even heroes vs villains.

ultimately, i think v3 aligns more closely with kaito's ideology, because of course truth and trust is a good thing....!, but not without poking massive holes in it too. because kaito's a prideful hypocrite and the game does NOT let you forget it <3 more on that later

little white lies AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 1:

"is the truth worth it? aren't feel-good white lies ok? what even is a lie?" ouma asks with his little hater heart. (ch1 and ch4)

here, we see ouma questioning the individual nature of common sense ("gut instinct", if you will)— how can kaede decide if his talent is a lie? what is a lie? if ouma is 99% lies by weight, what is ouma??? an annoying grape??

we all want the truth, right? but the truth can be ugly. that's what ouma's always showing.

this is something shuichi also tackles with his feelings on his own talent. by exposing the truth, he causes pain to others. but this isn't about him, so you'll just have to keep that in mind

in the death road to despair in ch1, it's kaede's optimism that causes misery to the rest of her classmates. they're lying to themselves when they try to do it over and over. again, ouma calls her out on it, pissing off kaito who supports kaede 100%. the idea they can all get out and become friends is…also really unlikely. and even with kaede's murder "for the greater good", ouma disparages her for doing it in the first place: she lost the moment she seriously considered the thought, and played right into monokuma's bloodthirsty lil' paws.

right after the ch3 execution, himiko still refuses to let herself feel… until ouma calls her out on it. stop lying to yourself. and they all let it out, crying together. it's a good thing, and spurs on himiko's arc to be more true to herself. you did a good thing, ouma. now onto ch4! yay!

the "truth of the outside world", and ch4 as a whole, is probably the most in your face way of showing this. but more on that later.

the boys are back:

if you want a good relationship with someone, vulnerability is key, one that ouma unfortunately can't replace with a lockpick. you have to be honest. maki and shuichi were honest to kaito, which let him help them out.

ouma is definitely not vulnerable, up until the very end. ouma's distrust of everyone pushes them away, leaving him alone— without the "reason to fight to live" the others have— living out of spite and determination, until he dies for that too. like maki, he reinforces his own loneliness, but unlike her, he never makes those connections that make him change into a more well-rounded person.

kaito's better than him, which is a really low bar, but the game goes out of its way to tell you that he's still hiding secrets and adamantly refuses to let down his hero persona, harming both himself and those around him. you are COUGHING UP BLOOD, you are NOT okay. while his sidekicks still know something is wrong, he refuses to truly let them in, instead just brushing them off.

and that pisses ouma off. at the very least, ouma's honest about being a liar. kaito, in his eyes, is a coward. (not only that, people still like him despite being a liar..... but that's probably more to do with kaito being way less of a dick).

ouma, in kaito's eyes, is also a coward. he can call ouma a two-faced coward as much as he wants, but pot, meet kettle

chapter 4 AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 2:

ok. seriously onto ch4 this time. it's the perfect set up to the insanity of ch5. the tension is insane. also, ouma does not shut up about kaito having a crush on him. ok man.

from now on, it's the kaito & ouma show, the truth & trust & hope & emotion & hero VS lies & distrust & despair & logic & villain show.

and the game puts kaito, and all his themes, in the wrong. poor gonta and shuichi are just along for the ride

the stubborn belief that worked so well for maki in ch2 makes kaito refuse to believe, despite the evidence pointing to it, that gonta is the blackened, endangering everyone. and this is the cause of kaito and shuichi's rift which ouma takes great pleasure in. i'm sure this greatly validates his own distrust and loneliness, seeing it as the superior option

kaito's a liar, shuichi's a liar, and gonta is...not a liar but still technically wrong. YOU'RE ALL LIARS AND KAITO/SHUICHI STANS. YOUR FAVE IS PROBLEMATIC. OUMA'S FUCKING PISSED

it's the hypocrisy that gets to him the most imo

does he know?

anyways, it's a great showdown between their two ideologies. up until now, i'd say the score was roughly 3:1 in kaito's favor, but now it's definitely more even. it even features ouma punching kaito instead of the other way around like last time: something made possible imo because of kaito's sickness, which ouma forces him and everyone to acknowledge by doing this

this is a massive L for the hero side.... can the sidekicks clutch this victory and save the princess?

(interestingly enough, note that kaito doesn't even seem to hate ouma after all that. at the start of ch5, he puts ouma and gonta in the same category as having snapped under the pressure due to monokuma. his feelings, of course, change later on.)

...

are you sure about that

yeah, the truth sucks sometimes, huh?

what now?

chapter 5 AKA the boys are back 2 AKA voyage without passion or purpose AKA the sickest chapter name ever

ch5 combines ouma and kaito's ideologies through their swansong, their magnum opus, their collective theatre kid dream

the hangar man. THE HANGAR. no more cameras. no more prying eyes. no more heroes. no more villains. NO PASSION (KAITO). NO PURPOSE (OUMA). WHAT'S THE POINT. IT ALL BLURS (probably because of the blood loss)

think about it this way: kaito is literally dying, hypocritically refusing to let his friends in. ouma is metaphorically dying, because he lacks the "reason to fight to survive" everyone else has, because he has no trust, no friends, no bitches... anyways

(also the poison, which is. you know. is also literally killing him but shush)

the closest he had was, imo, miu for a little, then kaito in ch5. but in the end, it's all spite, not connection, that drives him. ouma kills himself to prove a point, and they both die as a middle finger to the mastermind— a hollow victory, in many ways.

think about kaito sitting alone in the exisal, hacking his lungs out in the metallic silence of the belly of the beast, having just learned one of the truths behind ouma's act, then killing him, then having to lie to all your friends for the hope that ouma's final, crazy plan works out. he's finally stooped to ouma's level. he's so used to the smell of blood by now. does ouma's blood on his hands look any different from his own?

even kaito's motto: "the impossible is possible! all you gotta do it make it so!" is pretty much an admittance. you can make a lie (impossible) the truth (possible).

also ouma bleeding out looking like shit laying in kaito's galactic coat like a cape. kaito squeezing his eyes shut before before pressing the buttons. these images changed lives.

the lying truthersssss...working together!!! to literally pretend to be each other!!! to blur into one being!! trusting each other to see it through for their shared goal!! at first glance, maki thinks it's her fault— that ouma manipulated kaito using her, but kaito disagrees, saying it was for the sake of ending the killing game.

this is all to hammer home the idea that we shouldn't see them as "hero" or "villain." the cast sees them as it first, but of course, we know that's not so simple by the time kaito steps out of the exisal.

in the end, they fail, but kaito puts his and ouma's dreams in their hands. they can do it better this time.

plus, kaito finally stops lying to himself and others about being a liar, the thing ouma gave him endless shit for. it only took him 5 chapters

is it wrong to call "that was a lie" ouma's catchphrase?

i still can't believe maki believed him. love makes you stupid i guess

extra thoughts:

you might be wondering why i call him "ouma" and not "kokichi." i do the same with some other characters: kirigiri, togami (though i switch between that and byakuya nowadays), and komaeda. it's because i don't know them like that. we are NOT friends. "kirigiri" is out of respect however

don't you think ouma has his own "sidekicks," his "villain lackeys," if you will, in DICE?

kaito's execution music should've had the "reach for the stars" line from sdr2 and i'm still mad about it

and they should've both in that exisal idc

kaito somehow exited that exisal with a new jacket. it's my headcanon that, in respect of a fellow theatre kid, ouma stole a second jacket from kaito's room and put it in the exisal

VR au post game low(high)key codependent oumota is everything and i'll happily read 1000 fics about it

also just outside of the Themes of it all, and tbh my main draw to this duo... they're so funny. they are SO. FUNNY. THEY'RE SO GOOFY TOGETHER. STOP TRYING TO ONE UP EACH OTHER

they should run around and beat each other with toy hammers. it's enrichment.

this isn't like thematically relevant but their love hotel events really show how well they could work together. they want a rival to pump them up and fight back so bad!! they'd have the craziest vigilante beef

WHY IS THIS 2.1K WORDS/???!> i am so weak to rivals man

tldr: look at this meme.

tldr 2.0: a true kaito fan is also a true ouma fan and vice versa. you may not like it, but they're two peas in a pod. don't worry though, they're not happy about it either.