#I’m not tech savvy so.. be nice :/ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherry-leclerc · 18 days ago

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method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all.

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny.

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it.

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?”

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality.

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him.

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared.

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled.

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

How do you do that?

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking.

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it.

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be.

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles?

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status.

Who’s going to do all of that, then?

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here.

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder. “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.”

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now.

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test.

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!”

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent.

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression.

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully.

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon.

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes.

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough.

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow. “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

I’ve decided.

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud.

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise.

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there.

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it.

Notes.

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration.

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed.

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile.

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.”

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared.

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice.

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod.

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?”

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits.

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant?

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully.

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination?

The thought of failing the same way they did.

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples.

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion.

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his…

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.”

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too.

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use.

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong.

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away.

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes.

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal.

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed.

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again.

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else.

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember.

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen.

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it.

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year.

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around.

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you.

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.”

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens.

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken.

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language.

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought.

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.”

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue.

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue.

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.”

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too.

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how.

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume.

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes.

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are.

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.”

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget.

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter.

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile.

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

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razorblade180 · 3 months ago

Text

Streamer AU 6

Number 5 <-

Weiss:*rolls into view*….I’ve returned.

Yang:The bitch is back.

Weiss:Wow! Okay, rude. It’s not like I really left. I was in your streams all the time. I just don’t feel like doing my own after missions.

Yang:And yet somehow you still have more subscribers than me.

Photo Bunny gifted 30 subs

Weiss:Oh my gods! Velvet, thank you so much!

Yang:And the rich get richer!!!

Weiss:She says, knowing I’m not rich anymore.

Yang:And yet the money still pours in. Chat, make her play a horror game for being gone for so long.

“Yes!”

“PLEASE!”

“Alien Isolation.”

Weiss:Absolutely not. We have plans already. I’m just waiting for my co-host.

Yang:What am I then?

Weiss:A person who saw me hit the “live” button and immediately hopped into call to call me a bitch.

Yang:It’s in all in good love.

The Reaper: “Ayo! Look who’s back!”

Yang:Ruby, call Weiss a bitch.

Weiss:I’ll un-mod you. I’ve learned to do that recently.

Ruby: *enters call* Oh gods, chat, she’s learning computers. Tech savvy Weiss is dangerous. Who taught her such power?

Weiss:Your girlfriend.

Ruby:Oh, sorry chat. My girl can do no wrong.

Protector of Friendship: “💚”

Ruby:What’s the gameplan today? “Just chatting?” We can play Uno again.

Weiss:You hate teamwork. I swear you do.

Yang:Sends us on a life threatening mission where trust is needed, just to ruin it a day later.

Thunder Thighs: “How was mission? Everyone okay?”

Weiss:It was just bandits. Lots and lots of them. Unfortunately they ruined a village so most of the expenses went to rebuilding the town.

Yang:Chat, this woman is only on camera right now because her power bill is scaring her. This cute face has a price tag.

Weiss:Hey! I actually missed gaming. It’s oddly relaxing when I don’t listen to Ruby’s suggestions. Or Blake’s.

Ninja of Love: “League actually isn’t that bad.”

Ruby:That’s what I’m saaaaaying!

Yang:Don’t listen to them. They’re ill and can’t be cured.

Weiss:*looks at scroll*…Oh, I’ll be right back. Yang, you’re in charge. *gets up*

Ruby:Why not me?

Weiss:Because Yang doesn’t play League!

Ruby:You two lack vision. The four of us could be our own team! We could grab a few more friends and train for tournaments.

Ren: *enters call* Ruby, you are way too toxic for that. *leaves call*

Yang:Hahahahaha!

Ruby:You can’t just show up to say that!?

Weiss walks back into view rolling a second chair next to her. She’s then handed a coffee cup she gladly sips as she sits back down, all nice and cozy. Sitting next to her is Jaune, chilling in her merch hoodie as he waves.

Jaune:Hello…

“Whaaaat?”

“Oh it’s the guy.”

“Hi Jaaaaaaune!”

“Nerd alert”

“Co-host?”

Yang:I can’t believe you chose the other blonde over me. How cruel. What does he have I don’t?

Jaune:*holds up Kingdom Hearts*

Ninjas of Love: “FINALLY!”

Yang:..I would’ve bought it.

Ruby:Alright, maybe you chose better than Uno.

Weiss:Okay everyone, you can guess tonight’s game. It’s not like it hasn’t won several polls.

Ruby:Oh! Oh! Weiss, sub goal idea! 80 subs and you have to do a cover of the opening!

Weiss:I haven’t even heard it yet!

Jaune:You might like it more than the song from FFX.

Weiss:….

Yang:She’s setting you up for success.

Weiss:…We will circle back to that. Speaking of FFX, same rules apply. I don’t need back-seating from chat. My wonderful co-host here will help manage the stream and aid me with anything I ask.

Blake: *enters call* Jaune, what version is that?

Jaune:It’s from the 1.5 collection, so final mix. Post the patch.

Blake:You’re a good man.

Weiss:Do you want the camera on you or is that uncomfortable?

Jaune:I’m okay. This setup is nice.

Ruby:Questions like these wouldn’t be an issue if you got a VTube model. Penny could hook you up.

Weiss:I only recently learned how to fix normal PC problems. Don’t put that burden on me.

Yang:What does OBS stand for?

Weiss:I saved your life yesterday. What’s your damage with me?

Big Bags & Miniguns: “Is this the mystery boyfriend we’ve been searching for?”

Weiss:Cocoa, you’ve known Jaune forever. He’s always been around as a mod.

Thunder Thighs: “That wasn’t a no.”

Jaune:I literally showed my copy of the game. You all know why I’m here.

Cardinal Pride: “As if she’d date someone as lame as-

Message Deleted

Photo Bunny: “Please remember the chat guidelines before typing”

Ruby:I would’ve blocked him.

Weiss:He gets one more chance. I’m in a good mood.

Jaune:That’s the Kingdom Hearts spirit. *puts disc in*

Weiss:This won’t make me cry like Final Fantasy did, will it?

Blake:Oh….sweetie….

Weiss:*inhales* Great.

Yang:I already made a crude layout for the singing goal. I swear graphic designers should be thankful I like cars and fighting Grimm more.

Jaune:Don’t have any lower goals?

Weiss:I’m 20 away from having to cosplay a character from a game I’ve played. They also get to vote on an emote.

BB&MG: “How many subs for a boyfriend reveal?”

Weiss:…*rubs chin*

Ruby:You’re thinking about it!?

Weiss:I mean I’d have to talk it over with him to see if he’s comfortable with others knowing, but also that goal has to be high enough for Cocoa to be scared.

Jaune:….This game isn’t terribly long, and you have new followers. Personally I’d shoot for no less than 300.

The Monkey King: “Bleed her dry. 350”

BB&MG: “I thought we were friends Sun?”

Weiss:350 it is! After I discuss it of course.

“You’re on!”

“You underestimate our power!”

“I swear if it’s Neptune.”

“Just wait until payday!”

Yang:Like I said, the rich get richer.

#rwby #rwby au #streamer au #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #lie ren #nora valkyrie #velvet scarlatina #coco adel #rwby whiteknight

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ineffable-suffering · 1 year ago

Text

Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why.

Okay. I’m not gonna beat around the bush for too long. It’s time now for me to also throw my try at a personal Good Omens Season 2 Magnum Opus into the mix of already existing magnum op..i? Opusses? (Smited? Smote?)

If I’m honest, it isn’t fully my own magnum opus, as I read this meta not too long ago that made me go: „Oh! My God! That’s it!“ And I’m pretty sure a lot of other people have clocked this too by now. Of course I’m not saying it’s the objective truth but after having mulled it over for many endless nights and days, wading through the onslaught of coffee theories, body swap theories, The Metatron re-writing the Book of Life theories and many, many more, this is the one I think is most plausible and, if you look closely, most obvious.

And it goes as such: Aziraphale lied.

To all of us. All of them. And most of all, to Crowley. He lied to him. Well, he sort of did and also sort of didn’t. He certainly didn’t tell the truth. At least not all of it. I hear you ask: “OP, what the fuck are you talking about”. I answer you: Let’s start from the top and under the cut.

(Small note: this meta ended up being way too large for Tumblr, which is why I will redirect you to an external doc at the end of the post, where I have written it all down nicely and accurately. It's about 35 digital A4-pages long, just in case you want to save it for later.)

(Word count: 12.831 | Approximate reading time: 50 minutes)

Let’s start with a short recap of what happens before the Metatron crashes the bookshop party and everything goes to shit. The proper visuals for this are in my Tumblr post but I am absolutely convinced that right up until when the Metatron comes to take Aziraphale away and talk to him, the angel is fully ready to get into Crowley’s Bentley-chariot and finally ride off into the sunset (or Alpha Centauri-set or whatever). You can see it in his face and body language. You can see when the penny drops for him that a) Crowley loves him b) he loves Crowley and c) they can finally start their happily ever after. Aziraphale realizes this all throughout said Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.

I mean, look at that. Look at it. This (very shitty recording, sorry, I'm not tech-savvy enough to avoid the Amazon Prime screen recording blocker) is the very second Aziraphale realizes hat Crowley loves him. When he hears him suggest Alpha bloody Centauri as a getaway for Gabriel and Beelzebub, as Crowley has done to Aziraphale for so, so many times now. He finally understands what Crowley was trying to tell him with that all those times.

Aziraphale realizes this all throughout the Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.

Right when Crowley suggest Alpha Centauri as a nice getaway spot to the two, Aziraphale looks at him and he gets it. That Crowley has loved him, has been loving him for millennia. Truthfully, they've both known that for a long while now. But there's a difference between knowing, wanting, craving and actually being able to finally have something. And that's exactly what we see on Aziraphale's face here. This is it. This is where it all starts working out for Crowley and him. This is were they can start their eternity together.

So from that second on, Aziraphale only has eyes for Crowley. He keeps physically pawing at Crowley with complete heart eyes, as if to say „Look, look, that’s gonna be us too! Finally!" He’s actually so smitten that he doesn’t even hear what Crowley is saying when he asks Shax if he can have back his apartment now because he’s sick of living in his car. (Also, what way to drop that bomb right in this moment Crowley, lmao).

Once the Metatron comes in, the first thing Aziraphale says is that they don’t need to talk because „he’s made his position quite clear“. He doesn’t even want to talk to the Metatron, because in his mind, he’s already made the choice. Actually, he made the choice way before the bookshop showdown. For starters, I’m convinced that the Jane Austen Ball actually never was for Maggie and Nina but for Crowley and him (you can read more about that here). And apart from that, for this whole season we have seen Aziraphale trying to advance his relationship with Crowley romantically and domestically and move them to the literal next base (our car!). And after everything he just witnessed with Brielzebub, the final nail in the coffin of ethereal-infernal romance being possible, his choice is absolutely crystal clear: It’s Crowley. It’s always been Crowley and it always will be Crowley. And now it can be Crowley. They can be an us.

The whole of Season 2 is such a massive learning curve for Aziraphale’s character, with him remembering all those important pivotal points of his past, and this very moment is the peak, with him not only understanding that Crowley loves him (because he certainly knew for quite some centuries now) but accepting that love, letting himself have that love, being allowed to want that love and taking that love and starting their new and final chapter with it. Nevertheless, the plot clock ticks for them. The Metatron saunters into the bookshop, evil and stinky as Metatrons do, and urges Aziraphale to come with him with his whole Take The Coffee schtick, which I will get into later. And Aziraphale, immediately sensing there’s Something Up, does. Can’t really turn down someone as high-ranking as the the voice of God, after all. Even if you were currently already planning how you were going to elope with a certain red-haired serpent of Eden.

he next time we see Aziraphale on screen, it’s so painfully evident on his face that he is neither happy nor excited. Not even the slightest bit. We’d know if he was, thanks to Mr. Michael master-of-microexpressions Sheen. None of the usual “Aziraphale is happy”-signs are there. No blinding eye-smile, no giddy wriggling, not giggles and gasps. No, when the Metatron tells Aziraphale to „go tell your friend the good news“, his expression looks like this:

I’m gonna go out on an entire limb here and say: That does not look like someone who’s absolutely tickety-boo hyped to tell his demon soulmate that he just got the juiciest promotion and that they can both be angels and live happily ever after in ethereal eternity now.

This, folks, looks like someone who knows exactly that the news he has to break right now, are going to be tickety-shit awful and very upsetting to said demon soulmate. And already, from that very short snippet of conversation, we can tell that Aziraphale isn’t really given a choice by the Metatron. Because while the Metatron does tell him that he doesn’t have to „answer right away“, he immediately follows it up by: „Go ahead and tell your friend the good news!“ Very distinct and definitive choice of words here. It’s “good news” because it’s already been decided. Because it’s already a done deal. There is no “yes, no, maybe”. This is the only choice he’s giving to Aziraphale. Because it’s ‘Coffee or death’.

And he already gave him the coffee.

***

Tumblr won't let me continue this over a certain character limit and I am not even remotely done yet – so, I feel like this is a good moment to redirect you to the continuation of this insane meta before we're in too deep. You can do so right here!

I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this once you've fought your way through it. Hope you have a good time with it!

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis #neil gaiman #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens predictions #i lost my mind writing this #it must be nice to be able to be a casual enjoyer of media #who doesnt spend 5 days writing a 22 page document on an angle and why he lied to his demon boyfriend #my own meta

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

The Man 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Gah. You hate the taste. It doesn’t get any better and it feels worse on your skin. There’s something unnatural about human biology. Should that be so slimy?

You’re not a prude, not mentally, only experientially. The act itself, yeah, it’s kind of hot, but the finale. That’s too much. Not to mention, it wasn’t exactly mutual. None of this is.

It’s weird, actually. The more you think of it, sat naked under a desk, in the mess of his excitement, you can’t help but analyse the situation you find yourself in. This man articulated a strategic destruction of your life; he messed with your rent, your bank, your job, and now you’re sitting her in his house, perched on your heels like an orphan begging for more gruel.

You frown as you rub your chin again. Despite the single tissue he offered, you still felt the residue clinging to your skin. You need a shower. Or maybe some clothes. That would be nice. You scrunch up your nose and sneer.

“What the hell is that face for?” Floyd—Lloyd snips and you look up to meet his gaze through the glass top of the desk, his keyboard blocking out all but one of his blue eyes. Hey, he has nice eyes for a meanie. You’d never tell him because he’s not a very good listener.

“Nothing, I just...” you shrug and his eye flicks down to the jiggle of your chest. You cross your arms and tilt your head to the side, “can I go wash off or something?”

“Why?” He challenges.

Your lips part and a puff of air shoots out. Is he serious?

“I... I’m not saying it’s your fault or anything but semen smells and I smell like semen, so going by a very basic formula--”

“Oh my god, you don’t stop. Why can’t you just say anything straight out? Why’s it this nonsense?” He growls.

“Fair enough, but I’m still hoping to see a sink or maybe a washcloth--”

He rolls his eyes and closes them. He sits back and puts his hands to either side of his nose and exhales heavily. He clucks as he drops his arms and considers you as he leans against the leather cushioning.

“You don’t make the rules. Stay.”

He rolls back up to the desk and starts typing again. You look at the bottom of the sleek keyboard. He’s definitely an Apple guy, the iMac isn’t even the biggest giveaway. He just has that essence to him. He’s one of those guys who claims to be all about the best of everything but really he’s just buying into capitalism. He’s basic; mainstream.

What is he even doing? Typing, clicking, scowling at the screen. Is he working? What on earth does he even do? Well, if you account for the mustache, the tacky clothes, and shoes without socks, you might assume he’s some sort of salesman. Used cars if you were to go by looks alone and yet his house would suggest more than that.

He doesn’t look like a lawyer. He could be a tech bro, again, Apple everything. Still, the way he types doesn’t really seem savvy. He’s got the whole chicken peck down pat, jabbing each key with his index finger. So you’re at a loss. What the hell do rich people do? How do they even get rich?

“Would you stop staring at me like that?” He stops again, another glare through the glass.

You swallow and shake your head, shifting on your knees as you keep your arms across your chest.

“Sir, Mr. Jansen--”

“Hansen,” he grits dangerously.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, sir, please, it’s cold in here, can I get a sweater or maybe you could turn off the air? This time of day, the rate must be ridiculous.”

His lashes flutter and his forehead lines. His hand closes to a fist then opens. His chest rises and he squares his jaw.

“You’re distracting me. I’m trying to work.”

“So maybe I could go somewhere else. It’s a big house--”

“My house,” he insists.

“A very nice house,” you offer, “I mean I’m sitting down here, my knees are killing me, I’m shivering, I can’t sit still. You’re not gonna get anything done. I’m agreeing with you. One hundred percent. I’m annoying. A real nuisance so let the leash go a little bit. Promise, I won’t touch a thing--”

He squints then his eyes flick up as he thinks. His lips thin and he huffs. He brings his fingertips together, elbows planted on the glass desk, and taps them as he hums.

“You’re lucky you can make me cum,” he grumbles.

“Ah, but sir, don’t give me all the credit. You’re a very good cummer. An expert, it seems.”

His nose crinkles and his mouth falls open, for just a second. His cheek dimples and he shakes it away, “what on earth are you fucking on about?”

“I’m just saying, sir, I don’t know much about the old sausage link but I’m comparing it to the hub--”

“The hub?”

“PornHub, I’m sure you know it.”

He lets out cluck but says nothing else.

“Anyway, you got what they would call girth,” you gesture with your hands. “Good job, although, maybe it’s more a genetic type thing. Not really something you did...”

He stares at you for a moment the pushes his knees wide. He takes a breath and slides slightly forward in his chair. You are keenly aware of the twitch beneath his pants. Please, not again. Are their calories in cum?

“You watch a lot of porn?” He asks, a genuine hint of interest in his voice. The furthest from spite you’ve heard from him.

“Eh, not as much as some people, I'm sure. I get curious,” you say. “but within discretion. Never wanna go too far down the rabbit hole.”

He taps his toe and gives a thoughtful angle of his chin, twining his fingers between each other, “what kinds?”

“Mm, well, I dunno. Usually, I just click something on the front page that doesn’t look too wild. Like creampie is pretty standard, I guess. Doggystyle is usually all over, but the stepdaughter stuff, ick. Not for me, sir. No way.”

He makes a clicking noise in his throat and slowly reclines in his chair, “you are way too honest for your own good.”

“Maybe, I guess. In this situation though, what do I get from lying? Besides, I see the stache,” you shoot him with a fingergun then quickly holster it. “You definitely are trawling around. RedTube? Xvideos?”

“You said you’re curious,” he ignores your question, “you don’t... do anything while you watch?”

You feel a subtle tickle in your thighs. The casual air turns thick. You’re starting to get worked up.

“Eh, well, you know... the fingers find a way,” you look away and giggle nervously. “I go on these women’s forums. They say you should know yourself best before you try with a partner. Obviously, I haven’t found my number two yet but I know my way around my captain's chair. I can get to warp speed.”

His lips curve slowly as you look back to him and you gulp. You’ve said too much. Again. The very reason you fell head first into this predicament.

“Sir, why are you looking at me like that?” You squeak.

He chuckles and brushes his fingertips over his bristly mustache, “well, sweet lips, show me the way.”

“Huh?” Your eyes round.

“Show me around your captain's chair, as you so eloquently put it,” he demands and wiggles two fingers at you.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #au #mob au #the man #the gray man

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avocado-writing · 1 year ago

Note

Yello! I want something fluffy but funny so I thought I’d request an aziraphale x crowley x reader where the reader is tech savvy, and by tech savvy I mean just basic knowledge of gadgets and such, but to crowley and aziraphale, tech savvy. Reader introduces them to a lot of gadgets and they’re both so amazed.

Bonus points for nina and maggie confused in the background because it’s literally just basic things but crowley and aziraphale act like it’s fucking magic (also ik crowley has a smartphone, but still!)

notes: I love this request so much. I really enjoyed writing it! (And don’t worry just because Crowley has a smartphone doesn’t mean he actually knows how to use it, take a look at almost any person above the age of 60)

pairing: aziraphale x gn!reader x crowley

rating: G

“Darling, the printer isn’t working.”

“Have you tried pressing ‘Control + P’, Aziraphale?”

“Yes. It’s not doing anything, devilish thing.”

You sigh, put your book down, and head over to your angel’s desk. He’s trying to print out a screenshot he’s taken of a picture you sent him the other day. It’s a cat meme. He’s rather taken with them, and likes to have copies to look at across the bookshop. You have explained he can just save the image itself but he doesn’t quite seem to understand that.

“Ah you see Aziraphale, the problem is that you haven’t actually turned it on.”

“Oh!” he exclaims as you reach over to the power switch. The printer lights up and begins to spit out a dozen copies of the image Aziraphale has now lined up in its queue. As you try to force it to stop, Crowley saunters up behind you.

“Can you help me get these to connect? They’re not—”

“Yes, one second,” you say, thumping the machine as it makes a sharp noise, and handing a pile of print-outs to Aziraphale. “Headphones again?”

Crowley nods, a little petulantly. You fish out the buds and put them in your ears, waiting until you see they’ve connected on the Bluetooth.

“Here,” you sigh. You wonder if any of this is actually worth it. Yes, it’s nice for the three of you to have a group chat, but having to constantly remind them that most of these devices have to be connected to electricity is grating on you a little.

“Oh, I’ve just got a message from Nina on my mobile telephone!” Aziraphale announces. You see him pause over the passcode screen and you brace for him to ask you what it is, again, but he remembers at the last second. “She asks if you can go over and help with the tills, she says they’re… well, I’m not going to repeat what she’s written here but in nicer terms they seem to have broken.”

“Aziraphale please stop telling her that I’m some sort of tech genius. I’m not. I just know how to press buttons correctly.”

“Come on, believe in yourself,” yells Crowley. You roll your eyes and take out one of his headphones.

“Crowley, I can hear you over your music! You don’t need to shout!”

He sniffs. “It’s a podcast actually.”

“I can tell her that but she might be disappointed,” Aziraphale says, looking at you with Those Eyes. He’ll win, he’ll always win, because you can’t say no to him. You groan.

“Alright. Tell her I’m on my way - but not to get her hopes up!”

Aziraphale beams at you. As you leave the shop, the printer tells him it’s run out of ink, so he goes about ordering an entirely new one off the internet.

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker @ilyatan @civil-groupie @foolishprincipalitee

#aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader x aziraphale #crowley x reader #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #request

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indecenthoney · 8 months ago

Text

To Bite The Hand That Feeds You

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Our story revolves around Adam and Zoey, childhood friends, currently facing some unprecedented difficulties in their relationship. With 3rd party influences, any sort of progress has come to a complete stop as Zoey is urged to move on from her childhood crush. With time, she finds herself gradually drawn to another guy, much to the dismay of her longtime friend Adam, who has been silently repelled by the unfolding situation. Despite weathering life's ups and downs together and appearing perfectly suited for each other, they have never taken their relationship beyond friendship, surprising everyone around them. Adam, overwhelmed by his deep feelings for Zoey, realizes that he has no other choice than to make his move or risk losing her forever.

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

It was quite unlike me to run late, especially when it came to picking up Zoey, who often had the tendency to walk off to god knows where. She had always been an empty-headed idiot who would go out of her way just to make someone happy. An easily influential child like her caused me to worry about her well-being. It’s honestly quite a surprise how she made it to college. Even if she did have trouble understanding concepts or even reading the atmosphere, she would always put on that damn smile that I loved so much. Zoey was an entity of unwavering perseverance and unconditional love. To put it in simple terms, she was a puppy. Nonetheless, Zoey was my puppy. Even if she doesn’t quite know it yet.

“There you are… Good… You actually listened this time… And here I thought you’d wander off again… Ready? I’ll drop you home…”

“Adam! What? No! I was just… looking around last time! Oh! Before we go! I would like you to meet my new friend, Tyler! He’s been super nice to me and always buys me snacks to eat during our lectures! We even planned to have a little study session at his house on Saturday! Isn’t that cool? It’ll be my first college hang-out!”

“Right… Nice to meet you… I guess… Anyway… Zoey, let’s go…”

“Boyfriend? Adam? Uhm no h-he’s just… my childhood friend… A-anyway I’ll see you on Saturday, alright! Yeah, I’m looking forward to it! Byeeee! Adam… That was really rude… You could’ve at least made a new friend…”

“Excuse me...? Zoey... You are not going to that boy’s dorm…”

“WHAT! Why not? I finally made a friend in college! Why can’t I see him?”

“Zoey… Just trust me… Alright? Maybe you’re still a little too naive to understand… but just trust me…”

“You’re not my dad… I can do whatever I want! I’m in college! What do you care?!?”

“And you’re just a little GIRL… Who can’t think for herself?! So I’m doing it for you! Just LISTEN… You are not allowed to go to his dorm… and I prohibit you from ever talking to him ever again… Is that understood?”

“I hate you!”

I know what I said could be interpreted as controlling, but all I wanted was to look out for her. After our little argument, she ran off on her own. Luckily enough, I had her location on my phone and had been trailing her for the past hour while she made several pit stops at her favorite cafes. In all honesty, Zoey has never been tech-savvy making it easier for me to tamper with her phone, but it was for the greater good. Who knows what would happen to her? You can judge me all you want, but she ended up calling me a few moments later to pick her up after getting lost.

“Calm down… Just tell me where you are… and I’ll pick you up… So there’s a tree… Uhuh… and a building? Could you be any clearer… Alright… I’m coming… Just stay put…”

Not that I needed to ask for her location, but it was better than her asking how I found her in the first place. The car ride home was awfully quiet and we’ve never really had this much tension between us. It hurt me to see this side of her. But I much preferred it over some guy taking advantage of her. Once we arrived, there was a long pause before Zoey headed out. No words were exchanged during that moment despite us both wanting to say something. It was an easy tell, telling from her quivering lips. Something I’ve grown fond of. She had the habit of holding back when trying to say something. I would always figure it out whether it be some pastry she wanted to try or to tell me some ridiculous fact. This time, however, was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I felt my chest cave in as she walked away and closed the door. In the following days, my mind was filled with unlikely scenarios. It drove me mad. I wanted to protect her more than anything in the world even if she hated me. I later took a couple of days of knowing she’d come and check on me. Zoey would always drop by without fail even if she was sick herself. I guess in her mind, taking care of someone else weighed heavier than her own. I knew without a doubt if I took some days off, she would surely show up. And she did.

“Oh… It’s you… Come in…”

“T-thank you… Uhm… I just wanted to check up on you… You haven’t picked me up from any of my classes like you usually do… and I haven’t seen you around campus… So I got really worried… Is everything okay?

“...”

“I-I know we sort of had a little fight the last time we saw each other and… I’m sorry… But I’m still putting my foot down… I want to hang out with my new friend… but I also want for us to make up… You have to trust me… I can handle myself! I’m a big girl now! I can tie my shoes and everything! Heheh… Please, Adam?”

“Fine. I trust you. I just want you to know that I care about you. I just didn’t anything bad to happen to you. And I don’t want to risk it. Forgive me.”

“Adam… You’re so silly… I forgive you! Mm! You’re the sweetest! I’ll be meeting him later by his dorm! And if anything, I’ll text you right away! I promise! Sooooooo what have you been up to? You didn’t answer my question! I didn’t see you all week!”

“Took some time off to work on a project… On the bright side, I’m just about done… All that’s left is to record and test my thesis…”

“Oh! I don’t quite get it… but is there… anything I can do?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“I want to! We haven’t spent any time together in a while, so this’ll make up for it! Yeah? I’ll do anything! ”

“Alright… If you insist… Thank you… Go on and head down to my room… I’m just going to get a few things before we start… You can sit by my desk since I gotta record the whole thing…”

“Heheh! Yes sir!”

After sending her off to my room, I packed a few necessities for this experiment. Truth be told, I was a little too focused to answer her questions. To keep her preoccupied, I had prepared her some snacks and hot chocolate while she waited. Making sure that every angle was just right. A smile crept up on my face as I watched her happily eat her snacks. Taking a sip and then another. Completely downing the sedative that I had placed into her drink. Watching her fight off the drowsiness before going completely limp. Giving me the chance to finish my preparation for my little experiment.

“Oh? Hey there, sleepy head… Did you have a good nap? I hope so… You were snoring pretty loudly…”

“Mmph… What time is it? AM I LATE? H-hey… What the… What is this?”

“Hey hey… Don’t worry… It’s still four hours until your little play date… You’ll still make it in time… As for the cuffs… Well… You did say you were going to help me out with my thesis, right?”

“I… I guess but… Are the cuffs really necessary?”

“Mhm… We wouldn’t want to mess up my data, would we? Exactly… Now all I need you to do is to be pretty and sit still for me… Can you do that, hun? Yeah? You look really pretty by the way… I always loved this skirt… That’s it… Smile for the camera… Good girl…”

“Hehe… uhm… what exactly is your project about? A-adam? Hahahah… W-what’s with the knife? Wait wait… Please…We can talk about this right? Please don’t hurt me…”

“I’m not going to hurt you, silly… Look at me… I would never hurt you… I love you too much to hurt you…”

“Y- you l-love me? A-adam… I…”

“Of course… And yes, as embarrassing as it is to say… I do love you… I love you enough to teach you a lesson… After all, you’re just a dumb… little… girl who doesn’t know any better… but that’s okay! I’m here now… Aw… Sweetie… There’s no need to be afraid… It’s me… I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I? I know what’s best for you… and that filthy fuck boy isn’t it…”

“N-no he’s not like that… He just wants to study…”

“Study? Hahaha… That idiot? Study? I’m sure he’ll have a lot of fun studying you… Holding you down… Playing with you… Fucking you silly… What then? How will you call me then? Hm? Exactly… You’re just a naive little girl… Don’t believe me? Why don’t I show you firsthand how he’ll toy with you, yeah?”

Irregular breaths arose from silence; the edge of my knife flaw at her skin leaving but a trace of crimson. Her eyes fixated on the blade, struggling to comprehend such a surreal situation. Was this nightmare truly reality? Her best friend, whom she loved since the beginning, tearing away at her innocence with the same smile he had given her all her life. That same smile bore a twisted form of affection, transforming what was once warm and nurturing into something sickening and perverse.

“Will you relax? When did you become such a drama queen? That little boy toy of yours was going to take these off anyway… so what does it matter if I cut your panties off? It’s not like you were going to need them later… Zoey? Sweetie? Hey… Are you even listening? Fuck… What will I ever do with you? If you can’t even pay attention to me… how could you ever pay attention in class..? And Tyler or whatever his name was, isn’t helping… “

“Adam… We’re just friends… You have to believe me… Ow… You’re hurting me…”

“Oh? Hahahah… Was I gripping too hard? You poor thing, you’re shaking… Shhhh… It’s okay… I’m sorry for cutting you… I’ll kiss it better… Fuck, what soft thighs you have… I’m honestly getting a little jealous… You say that you’re friends but… Tell me… do you like him…? I see the way you look at him… The way you laugh at his jokes… The way you fidget after keeping eye contact for a second too long…”

“Adam! Stop it! This is crazy… Let me go! I’m bleeding… ”

“Silly Zoey… It’s just a few nicks… Your big girl, you can handle a few cuts… Now… Answer me… Do… you… like… him..? I want to hear you say it… cause I mean come on… It’s so fucking obvious… Being so eager and insistent on seeing him… I bet you were looking forward to having your little play date… Having his hands explore every inch of your slutty body… Having him bend you over his desk? I mean it’s fucking laughable… You? Study? Hahahah… I’ll ask you again… Do… you… like… him..?”

“I…”

“You’ve changed… So so stubborn… Whatever happened to my Zoey… My sweet, sweet Zoey… Oh? Do you have something to say? Did you get turned on by the thought? Having him fill your pretty little holes to the brim… C’mon, use your words…”

“F-fuck… S-stop… t-touching my c-clit… Mmph… Please… I can’t- I can’t-... Aaa…”

“What? You can’t what? Form a proper thought? Hahahah…. Fuck… I’m starting to think the problem is this right here… I don’t blame you… It gets the best of us… The feeling… The need to get off… Not being able to think straight without cumming first… Why don’t we fix that? Just say the word… You can tell me to go faster… slower… Whatever you want, hun… I’m here to help you… You don’t need some boy toy to do it for you… You have me…”

“Aaa-... I-I don’t… Mmph… wan-... i-it…”

“And now you’re a liar? It really is a fall from grace… It’s like you’re someone else entirely… My Zoey wouldn’t lie… Even if you say you don’t want it… It’s clear to me that you need this… C’mon… Be honest… Doesn’t it feel good? Having my thumb run along your needy little cunt… Rubbing circles around your desperate little cunt… Hahaha… God, you’re fucking filthy… I mean look at you… Leaking… Like a bitch in heat… What? Aren’t you at all embarrassed? I’m barely even touching you and you sound so fucking pathetic…”

“Mm… A-aaa… I-I… Mmm! N-not… f-filthy…”

“Awww sweetie… Of course not… You? Filthy? This is only temporary… Just a little bump on the road… After all, my Zoey isn’t filthy, right? It’s all just a minor setback… That’s what it is… And after I’m done with you… you’ll be as good as new… You’re just a bit rebellious… A phase if you will… But Adam it’s not a phase… Ah shhhhh… shhhh… Don’t you worry your little head… Adam will put on back on the right track… Why don’t we get you cleaned up, yeah? ”

In hand, were the two means of cleansing the ache between her deprived thighs. Her look twisted and perplexed at my intentions. Toothpaste and toothbrush. An odd pairing to such a surreal situation. Placing them aside, I knelt to the ground finding my way to her. Licking along her cunt, heavy with desire, before familiarizing myself once again with her aching clit. A dreadfully slow pace of what could take hours upon hours to finally reach culmination. Her face flushed to an even brighter shade of red after witnessing her best friend buried between her. An intoxicating wave of pleasure begins to overwhelm her with each flick of my tongue. Happily eating her out without regard for her constant disapproval. Prying her legs open with such force that it would be no surprise if it were to leave marks. My lips pressed against her opening; dipping my tongue deep as it would let me. Her hips buck and retreat only for me to pull her back in place for another taste. Another bite. Another feast. A gentle, yet eager throb envelopes me; a warmth soon after responds to my sensual touch leaving her a whimpering, disheveled mess. To my surprise, Zoey was closer than I had anticipated. Was it her lack of experience? Or possibly the excitement that came along with such a depraved act. Honestly, I was unsure. Not that it mattered at the moment nor did I care. There were no words of protest left, only the sounds of pleasure that reverberated in my ears. Even then, it would have been better to be safe than ruin our little experience.

“A-adam…? A-are you done? Can I please leave? I-I don’t want to do this anym-more… Please… I’m begging you…”

“Done? Oh, sweetheart… You don’t mean that, do you? I mean… we’re just getting to the good part… Tell me… Are you close? Tell Adam how badly you want it…”

“I-I’ve been telling you… I don’t… want this…! If anything, you’re the one that’s acting crazy! I… I just want my Adam back…”

“Zoey… Fuck… I never… meant to hurt you… I just… I didn’t want to lose you… You must’ve been so scared… I’m sorry…”

“Adam…”

“Okay… This is what we’ll do… I’ll clean you up… Get you a snack… and I promise we’ll go back to being our happy old selves, alright? Can you please find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“Mm! I-It’s okay… You’ve always been a bit sort of a worry wart… and always did your best to look out for me… So I’ll forgive you! Oh! And if we make it on time… I can still get to his house… Do you mind dropping me there? Heheh… A-adam? Why’d you stop?”

“And here I thought you learned your lesson… Got my hopes up for nothing…”

“W-what’re you doing?”

“I’m cleaning you up, of course… The toothpaste might tingle a bit… But I’m sure after the pain subsides… or hopefully, it does… you’ll be able to enjoy it! Seeing as how you didn’t learn your lesson… I guess I’ll have to go through with this… Now… smile for the camera, hun… We wouldn’t wanna disappoint our viewers now, would we?”

“Viewers? Y-you’re streaming this?!?”

“Hahaha… Hey now… I wouldn’t fuss around too much if I were you… But don’t you worry… I made sure that each and every angle doesn’t capture your face… and if you somehow move out of those boundaries… Well, I wouldn’t be so sure about your safety… Who knows? Maybe someone from college could be watching… Stroking themselves off… Fucking into their hand as they scan every inch of that indecent body of yours… I wouldn’t bother asking for help either… Each one of these men are here for you, hun… But in all seriousness… One more outburst and I’ll be sure to send a recording to your friend, Tyler… Hahahah… God, you’re so fucking… obedient when I mention Tyler, huh…? It kinda pisses me off… Fuck it… Let’s just get started…”

Believe it or not, I was hoping to avoid this. Despite the constant throb in my pants, it brought me no satisfaction to see Zoey trembling in fear. If only things turned out differently for the both of us. Then again, there was no point in having such thoughts. Having been idle for too long, I began toying with her. Gently biting and licking along her clit bringing about a swollen and needy version of her. Having known the new circumstances of our little project, she continued to stifle her moans in an attempt to keep some form of innocence. Faint whimpers escaping her lips as I rubbed her senseless, sending shockwaves all throughout her body. Vigorously shaking in her seat; gasping for air. Her hips unconsciously pushing against my tongue, nearing her climax. Only to pull away and be met with a toothbrush coated with toothpaste. An unfamiliar feeling bringing her back from her lustful daze. The coarse bristles grinding against her as she writhes within her restraints. All while the menthol slowly takes its effect, causing an irritable tingling sensation.

“F-fuck… Mmm… A-adam…? W-what are you doing? Aaaa… S-stop… Fuck… Fuck… Fuck… It… hurts… You can’t… do that… I’m too s-sensitive…”

“I’ll stop when you’ve learned your lesson… and what is this… You can’t business? Of course, I can… Watch me…”

“It… burns… Please stop… I can’t… I can’t… I feel w-weird… I’m going to cum… Fuck me… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum… A-aah… S-shit… A-aaa… Mmmph…”

“There we go… That’s one… A couple more time and maybe you’ll start thinking straight… Zoey… Look at the mess you made… Leaking all over my seat… In front of the audience… Bad Zoey… As punishment, I’ll have to flick your dumb needy clit a few times… This’ll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you…”

“A-adam… O-ow Please… No more… No more… It hurts…”

“Now now… You have to behave… One more time you close those legs… I’ll have no choice but to give the audience something else to look at… And as much as they would love to see you cry… I’m sure you don’t want them to see your pretty little face, do we? Just a few more flicks… and we’ll go back to making you feel good, yeah?”

“Ow… Fuck… A-adam… I’m sorry… Please… Ow…. Sh-shit…”

“Well that’s no good… Such a potty mouth… Let’s add a few more flicks… and this time… instead of cussing I want to hear a thank you… Understood? Zoey… I said… Is that understood?

“Y-yes… Okay… Mm… Okay… O-ow… T-thank you… Mmm… A-aaa… T-thank you… I-it hurts… A-adam… It hurts… Mmmph… T-thank… you… ”

“Hahaha… Good girl… You catch on quick… Are you sure you aren’t a genius? Playing dumb so you can get what you want… One more…”

“N-no… I’m not… A-aaa… O-ow… Ow… Ow… T-thank you… A-adammmm…”

“Shhhhh… It’s okay… I know it hurts… You did good… I’m so proud of you, hun… Let’s get back to cleaning you up, yeah? Doesn’t it feel good? The burn on your swollen clit as I rub you stupid… Such a leaky fucking mess you are… Hahaha… Gonna cum, sweetheart? Go right ahead… Cum for me… God, you look so fucking desperate bucking your hips like that…”

“F-uck…. I-I’m c-cominggg…. Hnng… F-fffuck…. I’m sorry… A-adam… Thank you… T-thank you… Feelsh sho goood…”

“Mhm… It’s okay… That’s it… Such a good girl… Cum your brains out, hun… You’re overflowing… You must’ve been so pent up, huh…? No wonder you were acting out so much… You poor thing… You just needed some attention… It’s alright… Adam’s here now…”

“A-adam? Mmph… You can stop now… I’m finished… I’m really sensitive there now… I need a break…”

“A break? Who said anything about stopping, sweetheart? After we’re done then what? You go off to see your little friend? I mean… I still haven’t confirmed if you learned your lesson or not… Plus I can’t let you leave until you get your fill… What kind of host would I be? Now don’t you worry you’re little head… You can stay here and cum to your heart’s content… to cum until you’re absolutely sick of it… to the point only I can get you off…”

“Hnnngg… F-fu..ck… I can’t think… I–It h-hurts… I don’t… wanna cum anymore… Ad-am…. A-aaa… Please…. Please… please… I’ll behave… Just stop….”

“You’ll what? You’re going to have to speak up, hun…”

“S-stop… going s-so… fa-ast… Yes… F-fuck… I’ll behave please… I’ll behave… I’ll be good… I promise… Just please stop…”

“There you go again… You… keep… forgetting… your… thank… yous!”

“Ow! Fu- Mmm… T-thank you… Th-ank you… I won’t… So please… I-I don’t wanna cum again… I’m too s-sensitive… I can’t take another one…”

“You won’t… What? You have to be more specific than that…”

“I-I said… I’ll behave… I’ll stop seeing T-Tyler… Are you happy?”

“That’s what I wanted to hear… Good girl… I knew you’d come to your senses… But you know… since you’re already so close… why don’t we finish you off? Think of it as a reward… or even a reminder… To never… ever… bite the hand that feeds you… Understood? Now buck those hips, princess… Fuck into my hand… That’s it…”

“A-adam… A..dam… I’m c-cumming… Mmmph… A-aaaaaaa…”

With the final orgasm, I turned the stream off and proceeded to clean her up. Wiping away her tears before carrying her off to my bed. Placing kiss after kiss on her trembling lips distracting her before slowly slipping myself into her. Her wet drippy cunt greets me with an insatiable heat. Fucking away as her incessant moans fill my mouth after each exchange. Whispers of “Thank you” resound in my ear motivating me to further fill her depths with an even eager disposition.

“Zoey... Z-zoey… F-fuck… I’m really close… Just a little longer… I promise… Okay? You’re a good girl… Just take it…”

“A-adam… It feels… good… Mm…”

“Yeah? T-that’s good… I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself… but I have to pull out… or we’ll both be in trouble… Hey… R-remove your legs…”

“Inside… Please… Adam…”

“Z-zoey? I-I know you’re mad at me for bullying you earlier but… seriously… This isn’t funny…”

“A-adammmmmm… Y-you don’t love me? I… I love you…”

“I- Ugh… Fuck… Of course I do…”

“Then breed me… please…”

“Fine… I don’t want to hear you whining about it later… But even then I’ll be sure to take care of you, alright…? Silly Zoey…”

I guess even after all that happened that night, Zoey was still able to put on that smile of hers. She pulled a fast one on me and completely won me over. Even after multiple loads, she still had the energy to move her hips; keeping me on my toes at every second of our love-making. I can say without a doubt that she paid me back in full that night. Completely drained she found her place atop me hearing my heartbeat.

“I never had a crush on Tyler, you know…”

“What? Then why did you want to go so badly?”

“Well… Our friends told me that… If I wanted you… then I’d have to make you jealous… and that you’d come running to me like dog… Heheh… And I guess it was true… Although, you were bit scary back there… Uhm... Were people actually watching us...? Should we be worried...”

“Those fuckers… And no... I was lying to get a rise out of you... I didn't want you kicking and screaming... If anything... It's just recording...”

"I see... That's a bit fucked up... Hahaha... You're obsessed with me... Want to fuck me so badly... You must really love me, huh?"

"Shut up..."

“Say it! Tell me you love me!”

“Where’s the toothpaste…?”

“Adam!”

“Fine… I love you, Zoey… You’re mine and you better remember it…”

“Mm! Yes sir! Hehehe!”

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

With love,

Honey

#cnc k!nk #corruption kink #bd/sm community #degrading k1nk #bd/sm blog #cnc free use #cnc brat #humiliation kink #overstim kink #cnc overstim #cnc drugging #RisquéHoney

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astermagne-but-genshin · 4 months ago

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More hcs as I procastinate work

That bird that hangs across the back of Dottore? Oh yeah, Dottore can use technology to see through the bird’s ‘eyes’. Like Bluetooth (although admit it it’s probably called BlueEye swhitedragon) , Dottore can pair things either to himself or his mask- no one’s going to be able to surprise attack him from behind (ignore the earlier screenshots of me sneaking up on him, that’s his blindspot shh )

Columbina sleep talks. Which is fine on its own.. if it weren’t for her responding to others and having ‘conversations’, where the other harbingers can’t tell if she’s sleeping or not. Her sleep talk is either misinformation, talk about other worlds, or ..very concerning, traumatizing, stuff.

Columbina cuts Dottore’s and his segment’s hair. Dottore sent a segment to her to get a hair cut as a punishment, it turned out really well , and the next day she found about 40 or so segments wanting a haircut as well

Pantalone will accept sudden hugs from Columbina.

Pantalone won’t accept sudden hugs from Dottore and will punch him in the face . Or he will side step and make him trip. He now has another reason to charge the other 10,000 Mora. 5,000 for an attempted hug.

Pantalone’s study is very comfy. He has those large Italian leather plush one- person couches, the ones where you just sink into. Columbina comes into his office to take naps occasionally. Arlecchino may have ‘rested her eyes’ once or twice for a few minutes. Pantalone doesn’t mind, they’re quite and don’t bother him. There’s no distractions.

Dottore is not allowed to sleep on the couch . 20,000 Mora per nap.

Some segments are not allowed to touch the couch

One or two segments are nice enough and on Pantalone’s good side, they are allowed to rest on the couch. They have Couch Privileges. For up to half hour, that is. (Though if one happens to fall asleep he won’t bother them 🤫😌)

Dottore is perfectly capable of creating machines, medicine, gods, and even life itself. This also means he is perfectly capable of replicating and reproducing Mora. However. None of the Dottores have come to that realization.

Some of the segments occasionally work as mechanics and handymen for the harbingers. The majority are tech savvy , and inadvertently make Pierro feel bad .

Capitano knits. Columbina takes in the occasional bird and Capitano makes hats for them.

Columbina does not like most cats. This is mostly due to either Sandrone or Dottore making a realisitc cat with laser eyes that acted strangely and dangerously suddenly without warning. However if she sees and watches a cat being very sweet and friendly with another harbinger , she might come closer, and maybe, just maybe, try to pet it. She loves how soft they are .

As someone who hums and sings softly when I’m very stressed or very sad / in mourning , I Hc columbina to be the same way

Pantalone is VERY good at throwing knives and darts. So is Pierro . I can see Pierro doing that one scene with Gomez Adams and the dart board.

youtube

Pierro does not find Columbina scary or concerning in the way other might do when she speaks. He just assumes this is how the younger generation speaks this way. Arlecchino feels the same way on occasion . Of course, this makes the other harbingers more scared of Pierro with his nonchalance when Columbina talks cryptically..

#genshin #genshin impact #pantalone #il dottore #genshin headcanons #pierro #Arlecchino #columbina #Youtube

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abbiistabbii · 4 months ago

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Hey sorry I saw your post about Linux being better/just as good as Windows for gaming PCs, and I was wondering which type you’d recommend downloading for a mid-tier PC? (I’m not super tech savvy tbh but I’m a fast learner and would rather download Linux at this point than Windows after all the shit it’s done lately). Also, did not know Android uses Linux that is cool!

If you're a beginner, either one of the Linux Mint flavours or one of the Ubuntu flavours, depending on how mid-tier we're talking about. Mint is based on Ubuntu but they're both ultimately based on Debian, which is the most stable and easy to use (in my experience) Distro. You'll find this a lot that a lot of distros are based on other distros, but if I were to talk about distros, the best ones tend to be debian based.

So Linux Mint is made to be as user friendly as possible and have most, if not everything, working out the box, and it's great, but it does use an older version of the Kernel so you need to bare that in mind (but as a beginner you don't need to worry too much, everything will still work). It comes in three versions: Cinnamon (using the Cinnamon desktop), MATE (using the Mate Desktop) and XFCE (using the xfce desktop). On a mid-tier PC any of these will work, even the heaviest of them has a recommended ram of 4GB but if you know your PC you might wanna try MATE (about 1GB ram recommended) or XFCE (512 MB).

However I would recommend Ubuntu (it's what I'm using rn). It's what Linux Mint is based on and is just as user friendly as Mint but with the big difference being it uses a newer Kernel version and has more flavors using different Desktop Environments and for different uses. The flavors however are on different websites but more or less work closely with Ubuntu itself.

Vanilla Ubuntu used Gnome as it's default which is okay, some people like it, but I don't and nor does a lot of my friends. Different flavors have different requirements and levels of usability but again, 4GB is enough to run any flavor. Other Flavors include:

Kubuntu: this is the one I use, and in my option it's better than Vanilla. It used KDE and it's suite of apps which are both user friendly, wide ranging and really nice looking. KDE is quite resource intensive (again that's not saying much compared to windows) but if you have a mid tier PC with more than 4GB ram, it should run fine and I recommend it. I'm a big KDE fangirl.

Xubuntu: This is one I used in the past. Xubuntu used XFCE which is designed to be lightweight without sacrificing functionality. It's not as flashy, but it's easy to use, functional, and great for lower-powered computers or just people who wanna save on computing power.

Ubuntu Cinnamon: This flavor uses Cinnamon (which the "main" version of Mint uses) but with Ubuntu as the distro. I used Cinnamon as my desktop when I used Mint and I loved it. It has all the functionality of Gnome with all the ease of use and flashiness of KDE, so if you try out Cinnamon on Mint but like Ubuntu, try it out.

Lubuntu: This is the lightest of Ubuntu flavors. It's light enough that it's ARM version can run on a Raspberry pi. This was designed for computers with not much power like those old netbooks (remember those?) and it's not as flashy or functional, but it's a good option if your computer is a potato.

Ubuntu Budgie: This is the one I know least about because I have never used budgie. I checked it out on distrosea but other than that all I know is from people who have tried it. Some like Budgie (which uses the Budgie desktop) some don't, but I think I might need to check it out before I pass judgement.

Each of these versions are distributed from their own websites so be sure to google.

As for gaming I would recommend that after installing it, if you have a separate graphics card, install the drivers either from the driver manager or from the website itself. Steam runs on Linux and follow the instructions from steam on how to activate Proton.

Happy nerding.

#linux #linuxposting #ubuntu #linux mint

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onomatopagu-et-cie · 1 year ago

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The Killing Vote (ep. 1-5 notes)

I’ve been enjoying this drama and I wanted to post some thoughts about it! This last week’s episode kept me on my toes! It’s a crime they only air a single episode per week, truly a crime aaaa

I don’t really know if people watching this drama are on tumblr but I’ll post here anyway!

Have a nice week!!!

(SPOILERS UP TO EPISODE 5!!!!)

I love Joohyun’s relationship with Kwon Seokju so far, the scene where she played for him Mozart’s Requiem (if I’m not mistaken) while we see her hanging Narae’s stuffed bunny was soothing! Seeing a different approach than Kim Muchan is nice!

KMC’s relationship with KSJ is really intriguing: we only get KMC’s (quite unreliable, that’s what makes it even more interesting!) pov in the first episodes with almost no dialogue between the two of them, and the recent episodes give us another side to their story through KSJ! I really wonder how their relationship got soured (especially from KMC) to the point KMC advises Joohyun not to get too close and get manipulated by KSJ: besides his own guilt for not being able to save Narae in time nor catch her murderer and the fact that the one he looked up to killed Byun Wootaek, something else must’ve happened for it to get THIS sour. What is going onnnnnnn? Or is it all an act? (and KMC/Park Haejin has some sad puppy eyes on par with Im Siwan's and Jung Haein's I can't haha) He affirms KSJ is arrogant and wouldn’t hesitate to take the law in his own hands if it can’t solve the problem while he himself pushes investigations with ways off the record to arrest culprits. He shows a bitter attitude in front of KSJ and Joohyun most of the time when he talks about him, but at the same time he also confided his guilt to Joohyun in private and seemed to regularly ask how KSJ was doing in prison during the past 8 years. I also get the feeling he was asking the warden if KSJ was regularly getting health checks by a doctor out of worry besides the investigation.

(This is some crack theory, but what if the one who murdered BWT was KMC and not KSJ? At this point, the narration is really unreliable so I wouldn't even be surprised!)

On that subject, I wonder if the drama will address KSJ’s health issue with his collapsed lung/asthma again ; his medical visit also seemed shot in order not to show the doctor’s silhouette at all, I wonder if this will hold any significance later on (it could be Jihoon’s grandmother, who knows!)? Not to mention Uhm Eungyeong, the culprit on ep2, was poisoned by Gaetal knowing she had asthma????

When the judge ruled Byun Wootaek’s acquittal (ep4), his gavel (a symbol of the justice) was shot struck right in front of KSJ’s silhouette, above his head, as if justice itself crushed KSJ. A similar symbolism is used in ep5’s Killing Vote:

The flashbacks are beautifully shot, ep4 was really moving. This scene’s lighting furthered the tragedy: it’s as though the orange light and the blood on Narae burn into KSJ and KMC’s profile as they find her, contrasting with Narae and the background’s cold tones:

Also when KSJ recalls how he murdered BWT, the same orange hue colors the shots.

In ep5, we finally hear the voice of a man who is thought to be Gaetal, when he’s talking to KMC over the phone. The opening shows the cast’s profiles, but there’s this one character we haven’t seen yet:

The man in question could totally be this character that wasn’t introduced yet! He’s probably the ‘executor’ of the Killing Vote, who was chatting with the teacher Lee Minsu.

I think Gaetal is definitely not the work of only one person: there’s at least the executor, tech-savvy people organizing the vote (the stream, the text messages, the hacking, …), the one on the stream (or maybe there’s more than one on the stream, a different one per case because the tone and attitude are never the same: agressive, vengeful, or bubbly, or caustic…) and perhaps someone in the police.

The teacher could be Fan no. 1 and/or Gaetal (if it’s not the same person/group): In ep4, we learn KSJ’s « Fan no. 1 » (1호팬, [ilho fan]) regularly sent him letters which would describe in details how the culprits subject to the Killing Vote would be ‘judged’. In ep3, the teacher talks to this ‘executor’ under the pseudo ‘justice15’: if 15 is read with the sino-korean numbers for 1 (일 [il]) and 5 (오 [oh]), the pronunciation would be close to ‘no. 1’, so this could not be a simple coincidence. Also ‘justice’ could be a taunt directed towards KMC’s vision of justice (he uses 정의 to describe his ideal of justice to KSJ) since he seems to deeply resent KMC.

Gaetal uses KSJ and KMC’s words (‘devils deemed innocent’, ‘rational justice’) and interestingly, another character who talks about rationality is the assemblywoman (‘rationality, moral sense and mothers are stronger than the law’)!

Also, this dude is on some twisted christian trip: in ep4, we get a glimpse of the teacher’s tattoo, a cross on his chest that reads… ‘My daddy My hero’… which was what Narae used to say to her father (her hero, making her safe because he’s always there to protect her) and a part of her room’s decoration…

Well, if he killed Narae and his mother made Byun Wootaek the scapegoat for every crimes he committed this far, something must have gone wrong this time for him (and his mother) to deeply resent KMC to the point of wanting to kill him: they managed to pull the strings of the police and judicial system, but KMC must have discovered Lee Minsu was the real culprit (perhaps after KSJ killed BWT) and tried to kill him, which might’ve worsened his heart condition somehow.

(And it’s interesting how the second screenshot shows the teacher discarding his now bloodied watch in disgust after hearing KMC saying ‘I was willing to break rules to catch this heinous criminal as soon as possible’ mmmmh…)

Just as Captain Oh completely denied his liability in ep5, he must have felt wronged, Narae’s case being the only one that 'sullied' him (and this must be why he changed names, from Lee Yunseong to Lee Minsu). Associating the accusations he must’ve faced because of Narae’s case and KMC to the Passion of the Christ in a sick, twisted way, he must’ve thought this tattoo as his own crucifixion leading to his rebirth/his revenge through the Killing Vote?

If the teacher is the mastermind behind the Killing Vote, choosing culprits involved in CSE, SA and CA so far for the votes could be: 1 — to mask his true identity, seemingly siding with true justice while he’s one of those he judges. Also, choosing keywords associated to BOTH KSJ and KMC could be to mislead the police to believe Gaetal is close to KSJ and both KSJ and KMC to suspect one another 2 — a sick way to play with KMC’s concept of justice and using KSJ's trauma (and KMC) ; 3 — to hide the final objective of the Killing Vote: since he gives the public a pretty convincing and sophisticated fact-check all the circumstances surrounding the culprits’ crimes (Gaetal even said in one of their streams that a culprit wouldn’t be subject to the vote if their crimes weren’t true), this could lead the public to believe every case would be exposed truthfully. Which means one of these cases could be fabricated and nobody would realize it at first. If the teacher organized the Killing Vote to get back at KMC (this also seems to benefit his mother’s campaign), perhaps the last vote would accuse KMC or KSJ of Narae’s murder (since no culprit was found guilty) or another crime.

At his final trial, KSJ accused ’the police who released BWT because they cared more about their performance’. We now know the police commissionner, KMC’s superior and the assemblywoman were all linked somehow to what happened 8 years ago. We also got a flashback of Choi Jinsu, KMC’s colleague who was also the detective in charge in both Narae and KSJ’s case, who gave KMC the hint of Byun Wootaek being the culprit. KMC, unlike him, ‘isn’t interested in politics’… He also recognized the teacher as Lee Yunseong, potentially his name before murdering Narae. In ep5, Joohyun automatically ruled CJS out of the suspect list because he’s not close to KSJ… If the premise that Gaetal must be close to KSJ is wrong, then his involvement could be possible: perhaps he was ordered to tamper with the procedure and the pieces of evidence during the two cases? Also, I wonder if KMC’s reputation will get addressed, his superiors must’ve pressured him to follow unofficial orders or he got to discover these orders (eg. maybe in Narae’s case?) and ever since he’s the man to ask for to do the dirty work? Or KMC could have deliberately gained his ‘Wipeout’ reputation to get closer to the truth of what happened 8 years ago?

In the first episode, the video test Joohyun found on Joomin’s laptop is named ‘Lrae091515’: if the drama takes place in 2023, the tragic events surrounding KSJ, KMC and Joohyun ‘8 years ago’ would have taken place in 2015! Could this refer to the final day of KSJ’s trial (or the day Narae was killed)? The pseudo ‘justice15’ could also be a reference to that date.

As for the ‘Lrae’… It could be a wild WILD guess but ‘Lrae’ could be ‘irae’ as in Dies Irae/day of wrath (capital i looks like a lowercase L), which is a sequence in Requiem mass!

The video test was only found on Joomin’s laptop when all the Internet cafe computers got the virus: the one who hacked the computers likely targeted Joomin or her sister, a police officer deliberately.

The tag in Narae’s room (‘the 13th was wrong’):

(It’s also a bit disturbing the tag was sprayed right on top of the ‘My daddy My hero’…)

— the narrative makes us think the tag refers to the 13th failed stab but it could be something else entirely (and perhaps KSJ is keeping this hint to himself?) — if the christian subtext truly exists in this drama (especially with the teacher’s tattoo), 13 is a number often linked in superstitions to the Cena, Judas (who betrayed Jesus, thought to have been the 13th guest to sit down to the Last Supper) and bad luck: whoever tagged this maybe wanted to signal KSJ the man he killed wasn’t the true culprit.

There is also a similar version in the norse mythology I found here:

« In his book “Extraordinary Origins of Everyday Things,” Charles Panati traces the concept of the cursed back to Norse mythology, when Loki, the god of mischief, gate-crashed a banquet in Valhalla, bringing the number of gods in attendance to 13. Deceived by Loki, the blind god Hodr was tricked into shooting his brother Balder, the god of light, joy and goodness, with a mistletoe-tipped arrow, killing him instantly. » And… we see the teacher communicating through the ‘Loki’ network (a wordplay for what would be Tor I guess, just as Apple would become a pear on laptops in media haha)!

(This is quite a reach, but for posterity in the opening, the 13th character shown is KMC, and in reverse order Jihoon haha)

The tag neither the news articles on Narae and KSJ’s cases weren’t in Gaetal’s video test:

idk how to explain, but I get the feeling that person A (who leaked the video), B (the Gaetal we see on the video), C (the Gaetal who’s now organizing the Killing Vote) & D (who tagged the wall and pinned the news articles about KSJ and Narae) could be different characters with respective objectives too. The drama highlights a bit too much the premise that Gaetal is one single individual that’s close to KSJ haha At the very least, whoever leaked the video knew someone else, especially KMC, would eventually be able to recognize its contents (‘devils deemed innocent’, Narae’s room and her stuffed bunny). Also for posterity, KMC was the one who ostensibly redirected KSJ’s attention to the picture of the tag on the wall.

The assemblywoman and the teacher both have a habit to touch their ear sometimes (eg. when she talked to him about KMC ; when the teacher was watching the student during PE). Jihoon also did it right after the teacher left: was it to try to reproduce what he did to understand what he was watching or is he linked to them?

At the very least Jihoon seems to know some things about the Killing Vote, the teacher as well as KMC:

— In ep1, he bumped into Joohyun as he went to retrieve one of the cups the teacher seems to make a collection of.

On the cup, there’s an ’S’ graved on it, just as the telltale sign of the Killing Vote is the character ㅅ/siot (시옷), the first character of 사형 (death penalty/capital punishment).

— He seems to know more than he lets on about the Killing Vote and keeps staring at the teacher (as though he knows his past crimes, eg. the closeups on the teacher grabbing/borderline groping Joomin’s shoulder, watching the students during PE etc.).

— He seemed startled when Joomin talked about ‘zombie PCs’.

— In ep3, Jihoon says: « I think [he] took it too far this time. » right after he saw KMC being alive and the man with the cap escape (which could totally be this character in the opening we’ve not yet seen). In Korean, the subject is often omitted and deduced from the context, it’s the case here: the drama keeps the ambiguity on whatever Jihoon meant here.

— Him being Narae’s friend would also make sense: as Narae was 8yo, she would be around Joomin and Jihoon’s age if she was still alive. There’s also Narae’s drawings that keep being showed, a boy/young man is always drawn on it.

As a child’s representation of adults and children could be inaccurate (the height, physical appearance, etc.), the characters we see on her drawings could be alternatively KMC (who was close to KSJ and given KSJ’s answer, also doted on her daughter), KSJ, a boy Narae used to play with (it could be Jihoon), the teacher or BWT, the son of the driver and the housekeeper who were also close to Narae and KSJ.

The assemblywoman asked her assistant to observe her son closely: I guess that refers to his health but it’s also to make sure he doesn’t commit crimes anymore. She also said to her son he definitely knows she’s ready to do anything to make Gaetal join her so that her campaign is successful: this + joking on TV how a mother is above the law suggest she definitely pulled strings to save their reputation (eg. using BWT as a convenient scapegoat ; tampering with the trials ; changing his son’s name etc.).

Joohyun thinks Gaetal acts like a hacker. That would also make Jodan (in ep5, he revealed he was arrested for hacking), Jihoon, the teacher and Joohyun herself suspects!

KSJ’s interest in Joohyun is curious: he even looked into her background once he met her & seems to focus on her habit to scratch her scar ; KMC’s comment on how unusual KSJ’s behavior was (specifically requesting Joohyun to communicate with ; negotiating his pardon — while he didn’t regret what he did at all) makes me think that: — in the letters or in some other way, Gaetal must’ve instructed him to obtain a pardon (perhaps they even told him to get rid of the letters to make him indispensable to the police) — Gaetal must’ve told him he would seek the truth to what happened to Narae: for someone who didn’t regret avenging her daughter, revealing Byun Wootaek was a scapegoat and the true culprit is roaming free out there would be plenty enough drive for him to find a way to get out of prison — whoever they are, Gaetal must’ve an ulterior motive to involve Joohyun, KSJ and KMC together

The first episode showed similar shots of KSJ and KMC (same backlighting, same low-angle shot, KSJ avenging his daughter and KMC lashing out on Bae Gicheol to stop him from abusing his wife):

I wonder if we’ll get to see KMC’s relationship with the woman on his photo (likely his mother), this is probably the only shot we get of him smiling not out of spite ;;

For Mu in Muchan, one of the hanja that can be given as a name is 橅, which means law, and it’s ironic given how the law failed him and KSJ ; sometimes characters are given names that will hold meaning in their development eg. Donghoon & Jian in My Mister ; Dongsik and Juwon in Beyond Evil.

For Ju in Seokju, there is 澍, which means timely/long-awaited rain ; rain has marked 2 important events in KSJ’s life: when he discovered his daughter’s body and when he was arrested by KMC after murdering Byun Wootaek ; there’s also 炷 which means wick, aligning with the OST lyrics (a fire burning in one’s eyes)

#국민사형투표 #the killing vote #tkv #kdrama

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