#but he understands why it’s such an important show to me

[tristansfreezingtheirbrain]

Actually let me talk about this for a second because I have been doing a self prompted character study on Sherlock based on the fact I DO NOT FOR A SECOND BELIEVE HE IS A SOCIOPATH.

And I think the writers of the show know this. It wasn’t an accident on their part, I think it’s very intentional.

Sociopaths are described as having little to no care about other people or their lives, sometimes even not caring about their own, but I don’t think it’s true in Sherlock’s case.

Yes he is antisocial and doesn’t appear to care who lives or dies, but we all know he does care.

What he does, is intentionally dissociates to save peoples lives.

He is right, feelings do get in the way of investigations, the reason he’s so good at what he does, is he’s able to separate himself from what’s going on, which leads me to my point…

I am by no means an expert but I pride myself on my intense love of phycology, and it’s that love that started me on this tangent that currently has its own 3 page essay in a notebook on my shelf.

I think Sherlock Holmes has a kind of dissociative disorder. My evidence:

- mind palace. A thing some people do but, I should point out, is not often seen in neurotypical people, and is also not often seen in sociopaths. The ‘mind palace’ as the show calls it, is often a place someone goes to in their own head to escape situations in which they are stressed or feel in danger. This is not technically how Sherlock uses it, but I’ll explain the connection in a minute.

- when put in situations where he needs to be at the hight of his productiveness, he disconnects all feelings he may have about a case in order to be more efficient.

Both of these things lead me to believe that stress triggers a disassociative state in Holmes.

He also ( SPOILERS!!! MASSASIIIVVE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT SEEN THE LAST EPISODE )

Engaged in Confabulation, which is when someone’s brain changes memories in order to protect itself from further stress, which would have been caused by traumatic events.

This is another thing that you see often in people with a dissociative disorder.

I think he has a subset of depersonalization/derealization disorder, which is the closest real diagnosis to what he seems to have.

I’ve also entertained the notion of him being on the autism spectrum, but I’m always careful with that because I have autism and I have a tendency to project so that could just be me relating to him in some ways. And, it’s very well known that autism and dissociative disorders kind of go hand in hand, so sometimes it can be hard to tell if someone has autism, or just a symptom of it, which is what dissociative disorder falls under in that context.

But if I was to say he is on the spectrum, this is why.

-often considered sociopathic ( is not, as I just explained )

- often considered narcissistic ( is not, and if you think he is you seriously overestimate how much he cares about himself and what happens to him. He does care about other people, it’s just hard to focus on things he can’t see immediately in front of him. )

- lack of understanding of feelings

-under/over stimulation

-very in depth knowledge on some things, complete oblivion in others ( unless he deems them important ) ( aka, hyper fixation )

-unable to focus on things he doesn’t care about

-disconnects in stressful situations

-often makes decisions people deem childish ( ex: not helping Mycroft solve a case because of a sibling fued )

AGAIN I AM BY NOOOOO MEANS AN EXPERT- AND I AM NOT CLAIMING TO BE- I JUST FIND THINGS LIKE THESE REALLY INTERESTING!!!

Anyways.

Thanks for coming to my red talk 🙌

He doesn’t feel things that way… I don’t think.

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 1

SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.

A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.

“Lily left me.”

He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?

No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1. 

They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.

But you had seen this coming for a while now. It was just a shock for it to actually happen. 

Finally, after an eternity, you spoke, still too shocked to formulate a coherent thought. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean she fucking left me. What else do you want me to say?” You could hear the quivering in his voice, giving away the sadness behind his abrasive response. You weren’t offended one bit. 

“Shit, Osc, I’m so sorry. I… don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come over? Or you can come to mine?” 

“I’m outside yours right now. In the car park.” 

“I’ll let you in,” you said. The mental image you conjured of Oscar outside your apartment crying in his fancy McLaren would have been comical, if not given the circumstances.

He let himself in only a few moments later, hoodie covering his tall and muscled frame. He was soaked from the rain outside—he must have come directly from the confrontation. 

“Oh, Oscar,” you said, pulling him into a hug, cringing at the contact with his soggy hoodie, but knowing that there were far more important things to be worried about. 

You rubbed your hands up and down his shoulder blades that now heaved with sobs. His entire body shook with the fervor of his tears, and you just held him, gently shushing him and promising that everything will be okay. 

“I don’t know how she could do this to me,” he said, gasping out the words between haggard breaths. “The championship—I can’t do it without her.”

“I know,” you assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No it’s not, YN, it’s not gonna be okay. I love her. And she just threw away so many years.”

“I know.” You just kept assuring him, tightening your grip on him as his sobs became more intense. “Just breathe.”

“Why would she do this to me?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

You knew. And deep down, Oscar did too. That was a conversation for another day. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. 

You didn’t have it in you to lie to him. You had always been the type to pride yourself on being honest, even when the truth hurt, but you couldn’t bear to do it now. You changed the subject.

“Oscar, you’re soaking wet. I’ll find you something else and warm that up in the dryer, yeah? Just sit down, take a deep breath, and let me get this figured out.”

He sat down on your couch and took off his hoodie and t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned body. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before—you’d been friends with him since you were seven, growing up together. He almost felt like a brother to you, sometimes.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that you’d been in love with him for over a decade now. 

But right now that didn’t matter. He had plenty of old hoodies over in your apartment, which you carefully folded every time he forgot them. Placing his wet clothes in the dryer and setting the temp on high, you reached to the shelf above you and grabbed a random one. You unfolded it—an Alpine hoodie from back in the day, before his time at McLaren. You smiled at the memories that flashed in your mind, before quickly returning to Oscar with the garment. 

He had moved from your couch to your bedroom, holding a pillow on his lap, hunched over where the top of it met his chin. He was staring off into space, not breaking his gaze at the plain white wall.

You sat next to him, handing him the hoodie, and he mumbled a small thanks as he grabbed it. He didn’t put it on, instead just holding it with the pillow, as if filling his arms with the plush material would fill the hole now left in his heart.

“Oscar, I… don’t have anything profound to say. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond at first, instead just silently letting the tears well up in his eyes. 

“I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said quietly. 

You paused, unsure whether or not you should agree with him. But you were nothing if not honest.

“Yeah,” you said, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“I guess we just both fell out of love.”

“I mean… how did the conversation go?”

It would be stupidly easy for Oscar to lie and say he didn’t remember Lily’s every word. But he knew better, and so did you. As he explained, the memory replayed in his head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Oscar,” Lily said, a simple yet devastating statement.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His confusion was genuine, much to the chagrin of his angry girlfriend.

“The fact that you even have to ask that proves my point.”

“Lily, talk to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Oscar stood up, now understanding the full gravity of the situation he found himself in. 

“I’m trying to say that I’m not happy anymore, and neither are you. I wanted to at least give it until the end of the season, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when we both know bloody well that it’s not! Don’t you want something better than this, Oscar?” Lily pleaded. 

“I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Don’t lie to me. You say that but you put everything else before me. I’m not a priority to you. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“I’ll quit F1. We can go back to the UK and live a normal life.”

“No. We both know that you wouldn’t do that.” Her tone was incredulous, twinged with a slight anger at the mere suggestion. 

“Yes, I would. I’d do anything. Don’t do this, Lily. Not now, not when I need you the most.”

Lily grabbed his hand, leading him to sit down on the couch next to her. “Oscar,” she began, “we had a good run. You made me so, so happy for so long.” She reached up to gently cup his cheeks and wipe away where tears were now forming at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you achieve things that neither of us ever thought were possible. But…I can’t stay any longer. Not when there’s no place for me in your heart anymore.”

You sighed. You knew every word that Lily had said was right. But you also knew you couldn’t get that through to Oscar, at least not until the shock wore off.

The words remained unspoken. You had been there for all of it. Lily was his first love, his only girlfriend, and everyone assumed that he’d marry her one day; you included. 

“I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on acting like my life didn’t just fall apart. How did you do it?”

This was Oscar's first breakup, but you had been through too many, it seemed, since he was asking you for advice on how to handle them.

The truth? It was very easy to get over a breakup when every partner you’ve ever had was a feeble attempt at denial. When they all inevitably failed, you just went back to bask in Oscar’s platonic love. It was enough. 

“I won’t lie to you, the first one is always hell. You feel like you’re going crazy for a while. You lose hope that you’ll ever feel happier, because everything reminds you of them. And then one day it just…doesn’t. The only thing that heals it is time and finding love around you, you know, friends and family.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, because it won't. But it will be okay—not today, but someday. You’ve got something to focus on with the championship. And I’ll be here.” You gave him an empathetic smile. 

Maybe you weren’t the most comforting friend to most. But you and Oscar had a bond that was very different to most friendships. You understood each other’s idiosyncrasies in ways no one else could. So when shit hit the fan, it was always each other that you went to.

You continued, “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

There was only one problem: your apartment only had one bed. And to the dismay of fanfiction writers across the world, you all would not be sharing it. 

You distracted Oscar by cooking a meal and watching a comfort movie—Cars, a classic. You could tell he was exhausted by the way his head on your shoulder sloped just a little too heavily downwards as the credits rolled. 

“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” you said, gently pushing him awake. He sleepily stumbled back into your bedroom and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling back asleep.

You took the couch, but despite the money you spent splurging on the extra cushioned sofa, no sleep came to you. 

It wasn’t any physical discomfort that fueled your insomnia, but rather, the events of the previous evening. Lily had actually left Oscar. She had finally pulled the plug.

Yes, in some ways, it was expected. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine a version of your best friend that wasn’t madly in love with his girlfriend. 

From the outside, though, you couldn’t blame Lily one bit. You wondered what had been the last straw. 

You could think of three possible moments. First: The Apartment. 

“I’m moving to Monaco,” Oscar began, and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Of course, one day he’d make it to Monaco. That was the dream of every Formula 1 driver, right? The beauty of the French Riviera and tax evasion. And you’d be left at your aging flat in the UK, waiting for those precious few days a year where he was free to grace you with his presence. 

“That’s amazing!” you said, only half believing it to be true. 

“In a few weeks I’m gonna go look at condos. Come with me? Lily can’t get off work.”

“Of course,” you replied. You’d already been to Monaco before for Oscar’s races, but you wouldn’t turn down any reason to get out of the constant dreary rain of the UK. 

You felt like a celebrity as you coasted through the Monte Carlo streets in the passenger side of Oscar’s McLaren, on your way to tour fabulous properties for your best friend (the actual celebrity). You breathed in the saltwater breeze, fresh and tinged with the air of wealth and splendor.

But it hurt your heart to know that you were helping your best friend leave. You imagined him getting up and doing his morning runs along the harbor, the sun blazing down the strained muscles on his back. Then you laughed to yourself at the thought of Oscar, the pastiest Aussie you knew, getting sunburnt. 

At the first property you met the realtor, who (after mistaking you for Lily; not the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last) took the pair of you to different condos throughout the day. 

Oscar decided on the final one you saw; two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a great view. Elegant, refined and practical—just like Oscar himself. 

The realtor handed him the paperwork and left as you stood on the balcony, looking at the beauty of the city before you. You were quiet, unusually so, and Oscar noticed. 

He sat the paperwork on the kitchen counter and walked onto the balcony next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice lowered. “You’re gonna make such beautiful memories here.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me now?”

You smiled and laughed. “A little,” you admitted, “I can’t help it. I’ll miss you all.” 

“You could always come with us. You seem to like it here,” he teased, tilting his head toward the edge of the balcony.

“You’d have to give me a raise if I was gonna afford Monaco rent prices.” You’d been running Oscar’s merch store and social media for the past few years, making a great wage, but nowhere near the immense wealth you’d need to call a place like this home. You joked with him, knowing Oscar actually had nothing to do with how much you got paid. 

“I would if I could. But, I mean, if you had a place to stay it wouldn’t really be that bad.”

“Are you suggesting I move into your guest room?”

Now he laughed. “No, but I’m just saying, if you had an apartment, you could make it work.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused, but trying to go along with the joke. “Well, sure, but apartments don’t just appear out of thin air.”

“You never know.” Oscar scratched the back of his neck and looked away, a sign of the awkwardness that now blanketed your moment on the balcony. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, theoretically, if someone were to have a spare apartment that they weren’t using, you could live there and Monaco would be a reasonable place to live, no?”

You didn’t answer his question, instead just giving him another confused glance until he gave up whatever he was trying to say. He still couldn’t meet your gaze. 

“Look—I don’t want to live so far away from my friend. Is that such a bad thing?”

“Oscar, you…”

“I got you an apartment.”

“You… bought me an apartment. In Monaco.” It came out more like a statement than a question, evidence of your shock. He reached into his pocket and dug out a key, holding it out to you.

You just looked at him with an incredulous expression. “Oscar, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“How much was it?” 

“I have more than enough money.”

“Answer the question.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “About 4 million?” 

Your eyes widened in shock. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I made over 30 million last year. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, so why not just spend it all on the people I love?” 

“Oscar… I can’t, that’s too much.”

“Will you at least go look at it with me? Actually, I’m driving, so you don’t have a choice,” he joked, walking back into the apartment. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself. There was no way you could let Oscar buy you a 4 million dollar apartment, but also, how could you not? The wind whipped through your hair as you rolled down the window of his McLaren, drinking in the beauty of the city around you. 

The apartment was smaller than the one he had picked for himself and Lily, but you didn’t mind one bit. It was perfectly cosy, and God, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole city from his apartment, but here, you could see the water. You stepped on the balcony and took a deep breath, taking in the sound of the ocean waves beneath you. 

Oscar followed you. “It’s a bit small, but I figured you’d like the view.”

“Oscar…”

“If you really don’t want it, I can rent it out. But I’d much rather have you close.” He held out the keys again. “What do you say?”

You could have told him you needed more time to think about it, but deep down, you already knew what you wanted. You took the keys. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously.”

“No need to thank me.” He smiled.

Back in the UK, he showed Lily the photos he had taken of the condo he had chosen for them as they went over the paperwork one last time.

He grabbed the pen to scratch out one of the boxes Lily had checked, hoping she wouldn’t notice. 

“Oh, did I mess something up?” Shit. She leaned over his shoulder, reading the paperwork aloud. “Please indicate if you own any additional properties in the principality of Monaco.” She looked at Oscar. “You already have a property there?” 

“Oh, erm, yeah,” he said, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“How come I never heard about this?” 

“Um, I just got it a bit ago.”

Lily could sense her boyfriend’s hesitancy. “Is this something I wasn’t supposed to know about?”

“Oh, no,” he said, “it’s not like that. I just didn’t think to mention it.”

“So, what is this property?”

“An apartment.” 

Lily hated feeling like she was having to interrogate Oscar, but clearly there was some piece of the puzzle missing that was causing his reluctance. 

“An apartment?” she questioned. “You got another apartment?”

“Yeah, I, um,” he looked at the ceiling while scratching his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness, “I was planning on giving it to YN.”

“You bought YN an apartment in Monaco? When were you planning on telling me about this?” 

His walls of defense had finally broken down. “It’s not a big deal. I made more than enough last season, I could afford it.  And it’s just easier to have her there for the brand shoots and media stuff. Plus, I mean, she came to London to support me after graduation, even though I know she hates it here. I just figured I should repay the favor.”

“...Okay,” Lily began, her voice tinged with skepticism. “So, you do realize what this looks like, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my boyfriend bought an apartment for his “best friend” and tried to hide it from me. That’s the kind of thing cheating husbands do in movies, buy an apartment for their mistress for her to keep it quiet.”

Oscar wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the air quotes Lily placed around “best friend” or the insinuation that he had been unfaithful. 

“Lily, seriously? I’m not cheating on you, I love you and you know that.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You know YN and I have been friends forever, it’s not like I did this for some random woman. I don’t appreciate being accused of lying.”

“But you were lying by omission.”

“Lily—”

“You know, nothing against her, but one of the reasons I was looking forward to this move was having more…us time. Without YN.” 

The statement brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Despite what she had said, it seemed like Lily did have something against you.

“You know, this kind of thing is why I was putting off telling you about it.”

“What are you saying?” she asked. Oscar knew he was tempting fire, but he didn’t care.

He continued, “You’re freaking out because I did something kind for a friend. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with my money.”

“I never said you weren’t, and I’m not freaking out. But I guess I’m just such a horrible person for saying I want to spend more time with my boyfriend.”

“If you’re putting down my “best friend” to do it,” he said, mocking her air quotes, “then yeah, that’s not cool.” 

“Oscar, you’re being so…weird about all of this. I’m not insulting YN. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“We’re literally going on vacation in February!”

“With friends. You invited your friends to our romantic getaway, Oscar.”

“You know I only have so much time off during the off season, and I’m spending most of it with realtors and accountants and eight thousand other people preparing us for this move. God forbid I want to invite my friends to Italy with us. Not everything can be just us, Lily.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m done with this conversation.”

The second next instance you could think of happened on the trip.

It was a beautiful getaway to the Amalfi Coast, your dream destination that you’d somehow never made it to.

The group of Oscar’s friends, including you and Lando, had plans to come and go, with everyone being gone before the fourteenth so that Oscar and Lily could have their Valentine's Day date. Of course, you knew nothing of the arguments they’d had in the past about this, but you had common sense enough to not be a third wheel. Oscar thought this was a good enough compromise. 

Well, he thought. 

From the moment he picked you up from the airport, you could tell that the energy was different than usual. He blamed it on jet lag, but you knew better. You knew your best friend too well.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the problem was between him and Lily. She was colder towards him; not enough for anyone but you and him to notice, but still there and undeniable. 

Even weirder was Lily’s…preoccupation, it seemed, with pointing out single and attractive men to you. It wasn’t a hushed reality that you were single, and had been for some time. You'd given up on dating a long time ago—you knew that you had already found the love of your life, and he just happened to be Lily’s boyfriend.

But, of course, you’d never tell anyone this. Lots of people were confused because you seemed so fine being single. But you thought that Lily, one of your best friends (at least, by association), would know that you weren’t really interested in meeting anyone. 

You sat with Lily in a restaurant overlooking the coast, the balcony having been rented out by Oscar for one of your last dinners. You all were waiting for him and Lando to join you, passing the time by ordering wine and appetizers.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lily said, gesturing her head to your waiter that was walking back into the main restaurant. 

You didn’t really know what to say. You glanced at him through the glass wall. “Lily, he most definitely plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” you joked, reaching for a slice of bread on the table. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

“Well I don’t mean for me, I meant for you.”

You chuckled. “For me?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you want to get yourself a hot Italian man?”

“I’m perfectly happy being single.” You tried to diffuse the awkward conversation, keeping a kind tone in your voice as you ate the bread and looked into the distance at the coastline.

“Oh, come on. We’ll get you someone, don’t worry.”

“I really am fine being single.”

“You know who else is single?” she asked, clearly ignoring your protests. “Lando!”

You laughed aloud. “Oh God, no. If I wanted to be cheated on, I would have stayed with my ex. Besides, Oscar would kill him.”

A curious fact: Oscar had never approved of a single person you had ever introduced him to. You had to spend hours talking him out of running over your ex with his F1 car after you found out about his infidelity. 

“Oh, who cares what Oscar thinks? I think you should go for it,” she said, watching as the waiter returned to pour your glasses of wine. 

“Lily,” you said, holding your glass, ready to take a sip, “I don’t want to be in a relationship, like, at all. It’s just…not for me.” You sipped the wine, but through the reflection on the glass, you could see that Lily had pursed her lips in an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“If you want me to stop third-wheeling you and Oscar, you can just say so,” you joked as the boys made their way to the balcony to join you. 

You didn’t know it, but your joke cut deep in Lily’s heart. 

Nothing was said about it during the dinner, but Lily’s strange energy continued. It quickly became uncomfortable how much she was pushing Lando and you to interact. 

And when you all made your way to a local nightclub after the dinner, it didn’t get any better. Lando quickly got himself lost in the crowd, and you were once again left to be the third wheel. 

You could tell that Lily was getting annoyed, but to be fair, she was also annoying you. 

“Go dance with Lando!” she shouted over the thumping bass. She gestured to the opposite corner of the small club, where Lando was currently making out with some random Italian woman. 

You pointed this fact out to Lily, who just grimaced. 

“Do you just want me to go away?” you joked.

“Yes!” she said, and you were taken aback, because she was definitely not joking. 

Oscar was at the bar getting drinks, far enough away that he couldn’t hear. To be honest, you didn’t even want to be in this club anymore. 

So you snuck out and began your walk home without telling any of them.

As you walked along the cobblestone streets, Oscar handed Lily a drink, pausing when he noticed that you weren’t there to receive yours. “Where’s YN?” he asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she headed back,” Lily said. 

“By herself? Should we go check on her?”

Lily wanted to roll her eyes. “No, she’s just tired. C’mon, let’s go dance!”

Oscar obeyed, but couldn’t ignore the feeling inside him that something about this whole night had been odd. 

The next time he saw Lando, he decided to say something about it. 

“Hey mate, are you going back soon?” he asked. Lando nodded, clearly tipsy. “Can you check on YN? Lily said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Sure,” he said, annoyed at the mention of you again.

He did come back to the house soon, but with an equally drunk and giggly woman on his arm, the same girl he had been making out with in the corner of the club. 

You didn’t expect any of them for a long time, so you sat in the living room of the AirBNB, watching the waves cascade into the shore, romanticizing this complicated feeling that coiled itself inside of you. 

That was, until Lando stumbled in. 

His eyes got wide as dinner plates upon seeing you. The girl on his arm giggled and walked off into the nearest bathroom. 

“Hey YN,” he slurred. “Are you dying?”

You laughed. “I’m fine.”

“Lily said you were sick.” 

“Nope, I’m good.” 

He looked to the closed door of the bathroom. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“You’re fine. I’m…uh, not interested, anyway. I don’t know what Lily’s been on about today.”

“Oh, thank God,” he exhaled. You laughed, despite the sting of rejection in his relief. “Well, I’ll keep it quiet.”

“I’ve got headphones.”

You made your way to your room and put on your noise cancelling headphones, passing the time by scrolling and catching up on work emails, before falling asleep.

You didn’t sleep through the night, instead waking up in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to round itself along the golden coast. You left your room to get a glass of water, not expecting to see the rest of your friends in the kitchen.

Lily looked hungover as hell, leaning her elbow on the counter, her hand resting uncomfortably on her forehead. Oscar was leaning against the counter on the other side while Lando sat at the bar next to Lily, drinking something out of a mug. His flight home was going to leave soon. 

You nodded to your three companions as you sipped your water glass, feeling the tension around you like an oncoming migraine. 

“You feeling okay?” Oscar asked. “Lily said you weren’t doing well last night.”

“Ah, just tired,” you answered. Lily had lied to both Lando and Oscar. That was a conversation for another day. 

“Well rested now?” Lily asked, her voice tinged with anger and fake sympathy.

“I’m fine,” was all you could answer. You glanced at Oscar, who gave you a knowing look. You had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Are you feeling okay, Lily? You look like you’re about to throw up,” you said, a more genuine concern in your voice.

“I’m fine too,” she said, clearly not fine.

Lando’s Uber pulled up, and you took the opportunity to help him transfer all his bags in one trip.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on with her?” he asked as you heaved the suitcase up into the trunk.

“No idea,” you answered. “Before you all got to the restaurant last night she was being…weird. For the record, I didn’t put her up to any of that.”

“I figured as much. You’re not the type.” Lando was right—it was common knowledge that you were happily single. 

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. For the record, it made me uncomfortable too.”

He exhaled. “Eh, we’re cool. No hard feelings, yeah? I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.” 

“I hope so,” you said, giving him a wave as the car disappeared into the winding roads of the coast.

Back in the house, you could hear Oscar and Lily whispering to each other. You wanted nothing more than to disappear and act like this weird night and morning had never happened, but unfortunately, you had to cross through the kitchen back to your room. 

A hush went through the room when you entered. You walked as quickly as possible through the kitchen, but were stopped by a voice.

“YN,” Lily called. “I think you should leave.”

“Lily—” Oscar interjected.

“I was just going back to my room anyway,” you explained.

“That’s not what I meant. I think you should go home.”

“Lily, don’t do this—” Oscar pleaded. You just stood in shock.

“Actually, let me clarify,” she continued. “YN, I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“Lily!” Oscar interjected. “Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, even though it was definitely not fine. “Let me pack and I’ll be on my way.”

You turned and continued back to your room, fully prepared to do as you had just said. But Oscar followed you.

“YN, wait. Stay,” he said. 

“Oscar, it’s fine.”

“I am so sorry that Lily said that, but I want you here.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two or why she’s so upset at me, but if someone tells me to go, I’m not going to overstay my welcome.”

“Still, that was so rude.”

“I’ve got thick skin. I won’t cry myself to sleep over it.” You looked out the window to the coast. “Look, I’ll just find someplace else to stay. A hotel for a few nights is cheaper than trying to reschedule my flight, anyways.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, Osc,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Go talk to her, figure out what’s wrong.” 

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I already know what’s wrong. She’s mad that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Then go spend time with her.”

“That was the plan! But, I mean, I’m pissed that she said that to you. And she spent all day yesterday trying to set you and Lando up, which was fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a twinge of laughter. “Look, with my record I can’t exactly give you love advice, but I don’t mind leaving. You all clearly need some space, anyway. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

Oscar gave you a flat smile and nod. 

You packed and quickly booked a private room at a local hostel for the next few days, planning to enjoy the last few days as a solo trip. You truly didn’t care, but in the back of your mind, you hoped that everything would be okay. You never received that text from Oscar. 

Back at the house, Oscar and Lily were alone. And neither of them were happy.

“Just fucking go with her if you’re that mad,” Lily said, egging Oscar on. He had always been slow to anger, but he couldn’t deny that he was pissed.

“What is wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why would you say that to her? Do you understand how rude that is? And not to mention the fact that you were being fucking weird with her and Lando all night.”

“Oscar, I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“No, I’m pissed!”

“And, as usual, it’s all about your feelings, hm?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t act stupid. Do you know how much I’ve put up with because I don’t want to hurt your feelings? Every vacation, every race weekend, she’s always there. And I put up with her because she’s your friend, but I don’t like her, Oscar.” 

“What did she do to you?” he asked. But Lily couldn’t answer. It wasn’t like there had been a specific incident or falling out; in fact, you had always been kind to her. Lily’s silence was all the answer that Oscar needed. 

“You knew that YN and I were a package deal from the beginning.” 

Tears came to Lily’s eyes. “But this was supposed to be our trip. Just us.” 

“Lily, they were only here for a few days. I specifically set it up so that we’d have 2 weeks to ourselves after they left. Is that not enough?” 

She was silent, at first. Then came a question out of left field. 

“Were you going to propose?” she asked.

Oscar made a face. “Propose?”

“I thought the point of the trip was that you were going to propose.” She looked away, trying to hide her tears. “I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. I’m sick of YN third wheeling, so I thought if I set her up with Lando, maybe she’d leave us alone for a while.” Her voice was tinged with an angry mocking. 

She continued, softer, “Oscar, I want to be your wife, I want to grow old with you—”

But Oscar had little sympathy for her. “That’s really what all this was about? Lily, I’m not proposing any time soon.”

“We’ve been together for nearly five years.”

“I know. But with the season starting soon—”

“There’ll always be another season, another race. Is your plan to just marry me when you retire?” The sarcasm had returned to her voice. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. But we’re young, we have time. I’m in no rush.” 

“I feel like you don’t care about what I want at all.”

“Lily, I’m trying. But I feel like you want me to cut off my best friend and settle down at 22. You’re asking things of me that I can’t give you.”

“Then why are we even doing this?” Lily asked.

“Because I love you, and I want this to work! But Lily, you can’t treat my friends like that. If you’re angry at me, talk to me, but don’t take it out on them. YN is an important part of my life, too.”

“I’m well aware.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Lily announced, leaving the conversation altogether. 

When she woke up, her head was pounding. Oscar was asleep beside her, his back towards her, no warmth even in his unconscious state. She had slept through the entire day—the moon hung high in the sky. 

As she quietly made her way to the kitchen and got some water and a snack, the memory of what had happened came back, rushing over her. She felt horrible. 

The sleep and food had reset her mind. Make no mistake, she was still upset at Oscar, but what he had said was right—she shouldn’t have taken it out on you. She needed to make it right. 

She texted you. Hey YN, are you awake? I’d like to talk. In person, if you can. 

Only a few minutes later you responded, affirming that you were available and sending the address of your hostel. Lily got there quickly, quietly walking through the rooms to your private room in the back. When you shut the door behind you and you both sat on the bed, she broke down. 

“YN,” Lily began, “I am so sorry about this morning. Truthfully, I was upset at Oscar and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. I was so rude.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.

“No, it’s not,” Lily interjected. But she seemed at a loss for words. “I just… sometimes, I feel like I hardly get any alone time with Oscar anymore.”

“Because I’m always there?” you joked, not knowing how close to the truth you really were. Lily didn’t respond. “Look, if you want me to take a step back, I can do that.”

Her response was quiet. “Would that be too much to ask?”

“No.” But it was, in a way. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, but your expression gave away nothing. “I understand.”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” Lily confessed. You normally didn’t want to know the details of their relationship, because the truth was too heavy to bear. But it seemed cruel to cut her off. “I feel like he never wants to be around me, like he prefers his work and his friends over me. I want to get married and he doesn’t. He keeps saying it's too soon and he’s busy, but it’s been nearly five years! I mean, how long does he want me to wait?”

You felt uncomfortable, not sure how to comfort your best friend's girlfriend. So you were honest. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know what goes on in Oscar’s head any more than you do.”

“Yes you do,” she replied. “You’ve known him longer.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“No, no, no,” you said, wrapping Lily in an embrace as she cried. “No, he’s not. He loves you so much.”

“No,” she echoed. “He doesn’t.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just held her. 

At one point, your phone buzzed, illuminating the screen. Some unimportant notification, but you noticed the date and time more than that. It was past midnight; Valentine’s Day. 

The third instance was during the first weekend of the 2025 season; the Australian Grand Prix.  

You hadn’t heard from Oscar since the trip. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you was dreading having to speak to him, knowing that your mere presence was now a strain on his relationship.

Of course Lily wanted more time with him. It made sense. You were present at…most things, actually. But Oscar always invited you, and besides, they lived together. If you had known that you had overstayed your welcome, you never would have gone in the first place.

But on the other hand, you and Oscar had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly double the time that Lily had been around. It wasn’t a competition, but you couldn’t shake that sour feeling that rested in your stomach, that if given the chance, Lily would want you gone for good. 

Regardless, between the trip and the grand prix, life went on as normal. It was odd, since your job was literally running all the official OP81 media pages and merch website. You couldn’t not be a part of his life—you made your living by posting memes about him on the internet and organizing all his merch sales.

So, naturally, you went to nearly all the races to take photos of fans, the paddock, and the garage. It was one of your favorite parts of the job. 

But Australia was different. It was Oscar’s home race, and a place full of memories for you. 

Your family had moved to Australia when you were only seven, having absolutely no friends, except the sweet boy next door in your cul de sac. At first he was cold. You thought he hated you. But you were nothing if not stubborn. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday; for Christmas, you asked for a pink motorized jeep, just like the black one that Oscar—the neighbour boy, back then—had. You squealed for joy when you got it. And the very first thing you did was challenge him to a race.

He ignored you. So you rammed your car into his, causing both of them to break. Ever since, somehow, you’d been inseparable. 

Your parents traveled a lot for work, so instead of constantly going with them, you found yourself staying with the Piastri family for months at a time. Nicole truly felt like your second mom, and Hattie was the sister you never had. And Oscar was…Oscar. It was impossible to describe the bond between you. 

Your parents were never too keen on Oscar, though. They kept it quiet when you were little, but as you grew, their dislike became more outward.

He was 14, leaving for boarding school in the UK. When he told you, you cried. That’s the only time he ever saw you cry.

You wanted to go with him, but your parents couldn’t afford it. He promised he wouldn’t let your friendship die, and he was true to his word. When he got into the higher formulas in racing, he helped you get your job so that you all would never be that far from each other again. 

But your parents always said he was using you, stringing you along, exploiting your labor. Though you’d never admitted it to another soul, they knew you well enough to understand that you loved him. 

You cut your parents off a long time ago. 

Sometimes the fans were worse. Half of them loved you—the half that understood that you could give them access to your idol—but the other half of them called you a beneficiary of nepotism, a gold digger, or a homewrecker. You learned at a young age to develop thick skin. 

And it was how you both behaved on race weekends that really exemplified the difference between you and Lily. 

You liked to be everywhere at once—in the garage trying to interpret the engineers’ technical jargon, in the grandstands taking photos of fans, in the pitlane shooting the shit with the race stewards. You always wore Oscar’s merch, and you wanted to be in the middle of all the action.

Lily, in contrast, was more reserved. She always looked put together, and frankly stunning, at all her appearances. She preferred to watch the race from the comfort and privacy of McLaren hospitality, and when she did interact with fans, she was respectful but short, very conscious of her space.

Neither of you were better or worse than the other. But no one could deny that you were polar opposites. 

You got to Australia before Oscar himself did, having been invited to spend a few days with your surrogate family before you’d have to stay in the hotel, per F1 employee policy. Nicole had told Oscar, who you assumed had told Lily, and when you didn’t hear anything for a few days before you were meant to fly out, you thought everything was fine.

Of course, you thought wrong. 

You spent 3 days with Oscar’s family, relishing the warm feeling of belonging that you’d missed. The Piastri guest room felt more like your own childhood bedroom. Of course, Nicole asked how you’d been, but you were politely distant, wanting to respect the fact that Oscar and Lily’s relationship was none of your business. 

When the pair finally landed in Australia and made their way to Oscar’s childhood home for the night, though, things worsened. 

When Nicole got back from picking them up from the airport, you were in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the front door close, you looked up and smiled, greeting the group.

“YN! What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her voice tentative. 

Nicole answered for you. “Oh, she’s been here since Sunday. I’m so happy to have all my kids under the same roof again,” she joked, turning to Oscar to reach up and pinch his cheeks.

Lily just gave a pained smile. 

You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t talked to Oscar in nearly a month. You wanted to honor her wishes—but it seemed like her wish was for you to vanish into thin air. 

The rest of the night you were unusually quiet, trying to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult for Nicole to notice that something was up, but she knew better than to bring it up in front of the whole table. 

After dinner she wanted everyone to gather in the living room and watch a movie, which you quickly bowed out of, complaining of exhaustion. 

As the credits rolled, Nicole leaned over to whisper to Oscar, “Is everything okay with YN?” 

Lily overheard and interjected, “She’s fine.” Nicole raised an eyebrow. 

Oscar responded, “The home grand prix is always busy for her.”

The answer wasn’t sufficient enough to crush Nicole’s suspicions, but she didn’t have any more time to pry as her son and his girlfriend quickly decided to retire for the night themselves. 

The next morning, as everyone was packing to get to the hotel, Nicole decided to ask you herself if everything was okay. But predictably, again, you just said that you were fine. And the morning was so hectic that she didn’t really have the time to interrogate you.

Once you all got settled and to the track for media day, work mode took over, and you forgot all about the tension at the Piastri family home. Though you quite literally were paid to follow Oscar around all day, you felt more like the paparazzi than his friend, hardly ever speaking to him.

And as you went back to the hotel room alone to edit and post for tonight, you felt like a stranger in your own body. 

You didn’t want to do this anymore. You missed your friend, but more importantly, you missed being yourself.

But what were you supposed to do? You loved Oscar. Oscar loved Lily. Lily hated you. 

You were stuck between three impossible choices: stick around and be forced to subdue yourself into a shell of your true personality until Lily decided she wasn’t upset at you anymore, lose everything you’d ever built by quitting and moving away like you knew she wanted, or continue being yourself and possibly cost Oscar the love of his life. 

Yeah, this was a wonderful predicament you found yourself in, through no fault of your own.

You moved like a zombie through the free practices and qualifying. When it was finally time for the grand prix, you assumed your usual place in the McLaren garage, for work if nothing else.

But then, Oscar won. 

No team rules. No convoluted strategies. Just Oscar doing what he did best.

You couldn’t hear your own thoughts over the shout of the garage and the crowd in the distance, cheering out for their hometown hero. You ran out with everyone to the barricades to greet your best friend.

Though he still had his helmet on, you could see the effects of his smile in his squinted eyes. He pumped his fist in the air, cheering to himself before running to the barricades to jump into the waiting arms of the crowd. You cheered with them, overwhelmed with pride. 

Oscar locked eyes with you, cupping your face with his gloved hands and pressing the top of his helmet to your forehead. “I did it, YN!”

“You did!” you yelled, smiling ear to ear. 

Of course, people took photos. Photos that Oscar posted later that night. 

Lily didn’t like it—the sweet intimacy of the moment, front and center on Oscar’s Instagram page. Why would you post that? It was like you were taunting her. 

Lily sat on the edge of the hotel bed while Oscar showered, both of them preparing to meet you, Lando, and a few McLaren team members to celebrate his win. 

When Oscar emerged from the bathroom, Lily asked him, “Osc, can you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” he murmured as he dried his hair. 

“Can you take down that picture that YN posted?”

“YN posted something?” he questioned, grabbing his phone. As his social media manager, you had access to all his accounts, but occasionally he’d post something himself, too. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

Lily pursed her lips. “The first picture from the post she made an hour ago.” 

“Oh, this?” Oscar held up his phone. “I posted that.” 

Lily was silent. 

“Why do you want me to delete it? It’s a good photo.” 

Lily just looked at him. Oscar sighed and archived the photo. “There, happy?”

His tone was much harsher than he intended, but to be honest, he was getting tired of the constant fighting, and his patience was wearing thin. 

Lily kept quiet, just silently going into the bathroom to start doing her makeup.

In the lobby of the hotel an hour or so later, you awkwardly stood with Lando waiting for the couple to arrive. Once again you were torn—should you miss out on celebrating with your best friend on his first ever home win, or should you go and strain his relationship further? 

You were just going to say screw it and go back up to your room when you saw Lily and Oscar walking towards you. Though there was no tension between them, there was no love either. They both just looked…tired. 

Everyone had decided to keep it relaxed for tonight, just doing a nice group dinner with Oscar’s family. It was fine, albeit a tad awkward, because you were sitting between Lando and some McLaren employees you didn’t know, at the opposite end of the table from Lily, Oscar, and his family. 

You knew this couldn’t continue forever. Something had to break. And it did, when you and Lando ended up back in Oscar and Lily’s room, drinking your way through a bottle of nice champagne. 

The alcohol seemed to have calmed Lando’s nerves, as he was actually normal with you. And Oscar was a blushy, smiling mess and he and his teammate laughed at something you couldn’t remember. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but the mood was ruined by Lily’s drunken slurring. “Oh my God, YN, just shut up! Go away!” she giggled and grabbed Oscar’s arm. 

Usually, you were calm, letting any infraction roll off of you like waves on the beach. But the alcohol emboldened you. 

“Lily, what the fuck is your problem with me?” you asked.

The mood shifted, and Lily gave you a look of disgust. “I was just joking, God.”

“No you weren’t.” 

Lando chimed in. “Well, I think I gotta call it a night.” He got up and patted Oscar on the back. The two men stood up to walk out, leaving just you and Lily alone in the hotel room. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is with me, but don’t act like there isn’t one. It’s obvious that you don’t want me around, I don’t know what I ever did to you.”

Lily had clearly been sobered up by your seriousness. Still, she burst into tears. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 

You sighed, unable to keep your anger in the face of her cries. She continued, “I just… Oscar and I were each other’s first everything. First love, first kiss…first time. I love him so much.”

“I’m not trying to steal him from you.” 

Lily was quiet, and so were you. Something she had said gave you pause. 

They were each other’s first everything—no, that couldn’t be true. 

Because you were Oscar’s first. 

It had been many years—you were both 18—and you had never spoken about what happened. But you remembered. 

He came back home for Christmas from the UK. It was before he had even met Lily. 

You welcomed him home with an embrace—even with the frequent phone calls you had, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, now here before you, in the flesh.

Neither of you could sleep that night, and somehow you both found yourself in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, quiet in the early hours of the morning.

Though it was warm outside, Nicole had a habit of keeping the house frigid, so you and Oscar huddled together under the handmade quilt that decorated his bed. The moment was tender and quiet, together in the soft darkness. 

“Do you like it in the UK?” you asked him, your question searching for a genuine answer. 

“It’s okay, I guess. It’s what I have to do for the races.”

“But do you ever get…lonely?”

He paused. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

You traced small circles on the skin of your leg. The closeness of the moment was uncomfortable. 

“But you have friends, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re not, y’know, friends for life.”

“I get you.” You really did, not having many friends of your own since Oscar left. “But you must have a ton of girls, though. They all want the cool race car driver.” You smiled, trying to use your humor to lighten the intimacy of the moment. 

“No,” was all he answered. “And if I had a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know, anyway.” In the dark of the room, you could only see the outline of his features, but you could feel the pull of his eyes looking at you. “What, do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re bringing this up?” he asked. 

“Of course I don’t.” 

“What do you mean, of course?”

“I mean, why would I have a boyfriend? I have no friends and half the people at school think you don’t even exist.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Well, yeah, when I say my best friend drives race cars in the UK, most people think I’m making you up.” 

“Shit,” he laughed. 

“So, yeah, it doesn’t exactly get me dates,” you laughed. You felt your throat stiffen. “I haven’t even had my first kiss or anything.”

The silence in the room was thick. “I haven’t either,” Oscar confessed. 

You found it hard to believe. Oscar was handsome, funny, everything a girl could want. Neither of you had ever been social butterflies, though. 

Under the blanket, Oscar reached for your hand, placing it in his. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you had never even held a boy’s hand. 

“We could just…do it now,” he said. “Just to get it over with.” He feigned his usual nonchalance, but you could feel the increase of his heartbeat and the ever so subtle tremble in his voice. 

It would be easy for you to laugh it off like a joke. But you knew it wasn’t. And you wanted him. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice breathy with nervousness. 

You sat up on the bed, and saw the dark outline of his figure leaning towards you, gently tilting your head. 

And when his lips met yours, it felt like home. Like everything in your entire life had left you up to this moment, here in the warmth of your best friend’s childhood bedroom.

The kiss lasted longer than you anticipated, but when he did pull away, it was too soon. You were grateful for the darkness that hid your expression. But even without the light, Oscar could see the truth behind your eyes.

“We could…keep going.”

“Okay,” you repeated. 

One of his hands found your waist now, pulling you closer, as his other hand pushed back your hair that had fallen in your face.

Once again his lips met yours. It wasn’t like a spark within you—more like a calming, a sense of peace and safety. Of all the boys you’d crushed on before, Oscar was different. You trusted him with everything. 

And you showed him so. 

He slipped his tongue past your teeth, tentative, as if he was scared to do the wrong thing. But you let him close the gap, your own tongue gliding along his, goosebumps going down your back the closer you got. 

He wanted to put his hands all over you, but he was nervous.

He pulled away. “I…don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t either. Is it actually your first time?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind me being your first?”

“I trust you.”

So you both took it slow, taking each other’s hands where you wanted to be touched, not focusing on anything but the other. 

The love you made was quiet and simple, beautiful yet imperfect. But you didn’t need perfect. You just needed him. 

The next morning, you slipped out of his room before anyone was awake, afraid of what would happen if they found out.

But no one ever did. Oscar never said a word about it ever again, and neither did you; after the holidays, he went back to school and met Lily, and the rest was history. 

But you remembered. And as you sat in that hotel room years later waiting for him, you felt numb. 

By the time he got back Lily had calmed down, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You announced your departure, but Oscar decided to walk you out, too. 

You closed the door behind you, but Oscar pulled you to not leave so quickly. 

“Hey, is everything alright with you and Lily?”

“No. It’s not.” 

He sighed. “I don’t know why she’s being like this.”

You just stared at him, your face blank. 

“What,” he asked, “don’t tell me you’re mad too.”

“Was Lily your first?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” 

Oscar looked over his shoulder. “I’d really rather not talk about this in the hallway…”

“So do you want to go in the room and talk about it? In front of her? Because you lied to one of us. Which one was it?”

“YN, it’s—”

“Which one of us did you lie to, Oscar?”

He let out a sharp exhale, knowing there was no way to escape your line of questioning. He leaned down to whisper to you. “I didn’t lie to her. She just…assumed, and I never corrected her.”

“That’s still lying.”

“You really think I should go in there and tell her the truth?” His voice dripped with frustration.

“Yes. She deserves to know.”

“You know why I never told her? Because I knew this shit would happen, she’d get jealous and try to push you out of my life. If I tell her now, she’ll make me choose between the two of you.”

“Do you blame her?” you asked, astounded at how Oscar could be so clueless.

“Seriously?” he retorted. “You think she’s justified in doing all this to you? The entire reason she’s mad is because she knows if she tries to make me choose, I’m not choosing her.”

“Don’t say that! Oscar, she’s your girlfriend. You should love her.”

“I do. But things just…aren’t the same anymore. It’s like she wants me to change my whole life for her. I can’t do that.”

Unbeknownst to you, Lily got up from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear to it, where she could faintly hear you and Oscar arguing. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Oscar continued. “And if you don’t want her to split us up, just let me handle it.”

“Oscar, she deserves better than this. I’ve missed spending time with you, but… you’ve got to tell her the truth.”

Lily opened the door. “I knew it,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “I knew you were cheating.”

Your eyes were wide as dinner plates as Oscar cursed to himself. “Lily, I swear to God that is not what happened—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she said, but Oscar pushed his way back into the room anyway. He looked back to you, and even without words, you knew it was time to go. You needed some sleep.

Unfortunately, Oscar would not be getting any sleep tonight. 

“Oscar, just stop lying to me! I’m tired of this!’ Lily cried, curling her legs to her chest as she sat on the bed.

“Lily, I swear, I have never cheated on you. What YN and I were talking about was something from a long time ago.”

“We’ve been together for five years!”

“Can I just explain myself? Please?”

Lily just broke down in sobs. “Do whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

Oscar sighed. “Look, I…I have lied to you. You weren’t my first. YN was.” He looked at his girlfriend, who was still just silently crying. “It was before we even met, and it was just once, and we’ve never done anything since. I would never cheat on you, I love you and—”

“When and where was it?” Lily asked, cutting him off with her statement more like a command than a question.

“The December before we met, when I came home for Christmas.”

“In your bed?”

He nodded.

“Oscar, I slept in that bed next to you the other night.”

He said nothing. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Haven’t I been good to you?”

“Lily, I promise, I love you more than anything.”

“Then why would you lie to me for five years?”

Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Because I was afraid you would be upset. People don’t understand that me and YN are just friends. I mean, we were raised together, she’s like my sister.”

“You had sex with her. You took each other’s virginity.”

“It wasn’t…like that.”

“How can it not be like that? Do you even hear what you’re saying?” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

About an hour after you left, you heard a knock on your hotel room door, and you answered. It was, of course, Lily. 

“Tell me whatever Oscar wouldn’t,” she said. Her eyes were still puffy and red. 

You welcomed her in, beginning to tell her the entire truth. “Oscar and I had sex when we were 18, before he met you. We never talked about it afterwards. After you met I didn’t want to bring it up, I just assumed he’d do the right thing and tell you. I didn’t want to pry into your relationship.”

So, your stories matched. And Lily knew that you were nothing if not honest. 

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”

“No, I mean, are you in love with him?” 

You didn’t answer immediately. What were you supposed to say?

Tears fought their way to the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I don’t know,” you began, but that was a lie, you did know. “I guess…I have a special type of love for him. We grew up together. When we were younger, yes, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But then he met you, and… Lily, he was so happy! I just…I realized that I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to be mine. So I made peace with the fact that this is how it had to be.”

Lily was overwhelmed with your honesty, in the face of so much deception. 

You continued, “I don’t blame you for being upset at me. Oscar should have been honest about what our friendship was like from the very beginning instead of lying to you. But I swear, we haven’t done anything while you all have been together. I’ve been cheated on and I know how much that hurts, I would never do that to anyone else. I’m so sorry it ended up like this.”

“No,” Lily said, “You’re the only one who’s been honest with me throughout all of this. Thank you.”

After that, you hadn’t heard from Oscar after that for a long time. Or, at least, a few weeks felt like a long time to you. But you had other pressing matters—your workload was through the roof with Oscar’s wins. Lando had snatched himself a win too, setting up an early battle for the championship. It was too early into the season to call it, but you knew Oscar was feeling the pressure with the possibility of his first championship dangling so close in front of him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to be a distraction.

That was, until he called you, saying just those three painful words.

“Lily left me.”

The sun was cresting over the horizon, illuminating the thick glass of your balcony and flooding light into your living room. You hadn’t gotten an ounce of rest. 

From your bedroom, you could hear Oscar snoring. You just let him sleep. 

God knows you both needed it. 

[misctf]

For the Team: A Real Man

“I’m not going to stand here and let you belittle the team.” Brett slammed his locker shut and turned to face his coach, “We’re trying out best.” The locker room fell silent. No one talked back to coach.

Coach Andrews glared at Brett, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in anger. “You think you know better than me, boy?” he growled, his deep voice echoing off the locker room walls. “I've been coaching football for decades, and you're just some punk kid who thinks he knows it all.”

“With all due respect, Coach, your behavior towards us is unacceptable.” he replies firmly, trying to keep his voice steady. “We're here to improve our skills, not be belittled and humiliated.”

The other players watched in silence, unsure how their coach would react to their star quarterback’s bold challenge. Coach Andrews' face turned an alarming shade of red, and he took a menacing step closer to Brett.

“You think you're so special, huh?” Coach Andrews sneered, his hot breath washing over Brett's face. “Brett, you don't understand a damn thing.” He chuckled, “Throwing a ball well doesn’t make you a leader.”

“I'm just telling it like it is.” Brett snapped back, “Why would we want to dedicate ourselves to this team if you’re treating us like shit during a regular practice?”

The other men remained quiet. No one knew what to say, but they watched closely. Brett was always their leader. Sticking up for them. And while they mostly agreed with him, they weren't about to face coach's wrath.

“You wouldn't know true leadership, dedication, or what it means to be a man if it bit you in the ass.” Coach Andrews replied, crossing his large, hairy arms, “Let me show you, boy. Let me show everyone here.” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. With a swift motion, he reached out and grasped Brett's chin, forcing the younger man to meet his gaze.

Brett tried to pull away, but the coach's grip was unyielding. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt the coarse hairs on Coach Andrews' palm brush against his smooth skin, “First and foremost, these arms. You think these toned, well-groomed arms make you a man?”

As he spoke, Coach Andrews' hands began to glow with an eerie light. And he dug his hands into Brett's impressive arms. Brett gasped as he felt the coach's fingers making contact with his skin. Brett's eyes widened in shock as he felt the coach's glowing fingers sink into his muscles. A tingling sensation spread through his arms as they began to shift and contort. The definition in his biceps softened, the veins disappearing beneath a layer of new flesh. His forearms thickened, growing hairier as dark brown locks sprouted from his skin.

“Wha...what's happening?” Brett managed to choke out, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. He tried to move his transforming arms, but they felt heavy, cumbersome. Bulking with both muscle and fat. The skin becoming tanned and weathered with age, “Coach, what the fuck are you doing to me?”

“Real men have substance, not just flash.” Brett gasped as coarse, dark hairs sprouted from his shoulders and traveled down his back.

As the coach's hands moved over Brett's chest, the young athlete felt his pecs begin to expand and contort. The lean, defined muscle mass that had once been there gave way to a softer, more rounded contour, reminiscent of Coach Andrews' own mature physique. Darker, coarser hair erupted across the changing skin, until Brett's chest was covered in a thick mat of brown fuzz, mirroring the coach's own hirsute appearance.

“What...” Brett whimpered, horror dawning in his eyes as his previously firm pecs sagged, “I...” He looked at his teammates- his friends. All just stared wide eyed, unsure what to do, “Please! Stop...”

“Keep quiet and take it like a man.” Coach Andrews commanded gruffly, squeezing Brett's newly enlarged, hairy pecs, “Maybe then you'll understand the importance of discipline and hard work, right boy?”

“I’m no boy! I’m a fuckin’ man!” Brett's eyes widened at his sudden outburst, while Coach Andrews just grinned, “No, why did I...?” Brett tried to understand where that outburst came from.

Coach Andrews leaned in close, his breath hot against Brett's ear as he whispered, “Because deep down, you crave the power and control that comes with being an alpha male. Your body is responding to its primal urges, even if your mind resists.”

As he spoke, Coach Andrews' hands continued their work, sliding down Brett's torso to grasp his hips. Brett felt a strange heat emanating from the coach's palms, seeping into his skin. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his abs started to shift.

Coach Andrews grinned, seeming to relish Brett's distress. “That's it, boy. Let it happen.” he purred, his hands sliding across Brett’s firm torso, “Feel the power surging through you. It's what separates the men from the boys.” Wiry hairs sprouted from Brett’s abdomen as coach’s hands made their way down. Each strand growing thicker and curlier.

“No...no, please!”

The young athlete tensed, expecting another painful alteration, but instead felt his stomach muscles relax and soften. The six-pack that had once been so prominent began to fade, replaced by a rounder, flabbier midsection. Still, Brett could appreciate the muscle behind the soft, hairy flesh. Brett's face contorted in anguish as he watched his own body take on a different form. 

“Don’t you want to be a real man?” Coach Andrews goaded, “Like me?” He emphasized.

Brett's gaze dropped to his reflection, his heart pounding in his ears as he took in the sight of himself. Gone were the chiseled features and athletic build he'd once possessed. In their place was a heavier, more imposing figure, with a rounded belly and broad, muscular shoulders. Thick, dark hair now covered every inch of exposed skin, from his chest to his arms to his back.

“I...I look like you.” Brett whispered, his voice shaking with a mix of fear and awe. He couldn't deny the raw power radiating from his new form, the sense of strength and dominance that seemed to pulse through his very being.

Coach Andrews nodded approvingly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “See? This is what it means to be a real man. Not some hairless pretty boy. You’re learning what it means to be a real man. To be me.” Coach Andrews replied, admiring his work so far.

With a firm squeeze, Coach's fingers made contact with Brett's pert ass. The skin rippled and shifted, the muscle mass shifting as it grew and filled with fat. The lean, chiseled curves of his rear gave way to a broader, heavier set of cheeks, now covered in a thick, wiry mat of dark hair. The muscles softened, turning to pliant flesh that jiggled slightly with each movement. Brett winced as the process extended to his thighs, the lean, toned flesh giving way to a heavier, more bulked-out build, marred by jiggly fat.

“But I don’t want to be like you!” The transforming quarterback insisted, shifting uncomfortably as a forest of dense hairs sprouted from his new legs, “It's too much...I can't...” 

Yet, even as he spoke, he found himself admiring the new contours of his body in the mirror. The heavy, hair-covered muscles seemed to throb with power, drawing his gaze like a magnet. Coach Andrews noticed the change in Brett's demeanor and smirked knowingly. 

“You're starting to come around, aren't you boy? Admitting that maybe I know what I'm talking about after all?”

Brett swallowed hard, his mind reeling as he struggled to reconcile his conflicting desires. Part of him still longed for his old, lean physique, but another part - a darker, more primal part - reveled in the sheer masculinity of his new form. 

“N-no, I don't...I mean, yes, I guess.”

Coach Andrews simply smirked as he ran his hands through Brett’s hair, “That's it, boy. Embrace your new reality. You're no longer just a pretty face and a strong arm. You're a force to be reckoned with.”  

As the coach's glowing fingers massaged the quarterback’s scalp, his proud locks began to fall away. Brett could only watch as his styled hair fell in front of his face. Each lock making their way to the locker room floor. Finally, coach let go and Brett shivered at the cool sensation of the air on his bald head.

“N-no, I won't...” Brett protested weakly, but his voice lacked conviction, “This isn't me. I'm not...I can't be...”

But Coach Andrews shook his head and brushed his glowing hand against Brett's cheeks. Immediately, the youthful contours began to blur and shift. His angular jawline softened, rounding into a squarer, more weathered shape. All of which was quickly covered in a beautifully thick, manly beard. His high cheekbones receded slightly, and his nose lost its sharpness, taking on a more bulbous, fleshy appearance. Even his eyes seemed to alter, losing their bright, eager sparkle in favor of a duller, more world-weary gaze.

“All done.” Coach Andrews grinned, “You’re perfect. A true man.”

Brett stared at his reflection, his eyes turning to Coach Andrews. And in that moment, he realized- they were the same, down to the last strand of hair on their chest. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. His own resistance was crumbling, swept away by an unfamiliar surge of masculine pride and dominance.

"Brett!" One of his teammates called out, "Don't...!"

"Shut it, Johnson!" Brett growled, his voice low and gravelly- the same as Coach Andrews'. His former friend took a step back, clearly intimidated by the transformation in their usually affable leader.

Inside, however, Brett was reeling. How could he have spoken to his friend like that? He'd always prided himself on his kind heart and good judgment. Now, well now...

Coach Andrews placed a meaty hand on Brett's shoulder, “Now you're learning, son. Don't let weakness cloud your judgement. A real man stands tall and asserts his authority without apology.”

Brett nodded slowly, his expression hardening into a mask of stoic determination. He could feel the change coursing through him, reshaping his very essence.  

“I needed a little help coaching you pathetic excuses.” Coach Andrews says turning to his team, “And who better to assist me than me? Right, Coach Andrews?” He says, looking over at Brett.

Brett stared blankly at his reflection, his mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of the transformation. The man staring back at him was no longer the person he once was - not even remotely. Every fiber of his being had been rewoven into the image of Coach Andrews, right down to his thoughts and desires.

“I am Coach Andrews.” he muttered, the words feeling foreign yet comforting, “My team needs discipline. I'll whip them into shape, no matter the cost.” He turned to face his stunned teammates, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a chill down their spines, “Listen up, boys. From now on, I expect nothing less than perfection on the field. Any slacking off will be met with severe consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

Brett's teammates cowered under his intense glare, nodding quickly in fearful agreement, “Yes, Bre... er, Coach Andrews” one of them stuttered.

Brett/Coach Andrews sneered at their subservience, his chest puffing out with pride, “Good. Now get out of my sight and report to the practice field immediately. We have a lot of work to do to turn you into the champions I know you can be.”

Both coaches watched as their team scrambled to obey the orders, a twisted sense of satisfaction filling them. Coach Andrews could only grin at the sight of the new coach- his twin- a specimen of true masculinity. And without another word, together, the two Coach Andrews stepped out onto the practice field, ready to unleash their unique brand of discipline upon their team.

[vettelsvee]

SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader

SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“What if you taught me some Spanish?”

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”

You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.

“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”

Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.

“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”

“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.

“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”

What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.

Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.

And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.

While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.

“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”

You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.

“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.

“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”

“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”

“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”

Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.

“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.

“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”

The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.

As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:

“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”

You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.

From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.

Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.

During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.

You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.

“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.

“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.

“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”

“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”

You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.

“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”

“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”

You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.

“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”

“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.

However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.

“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”

You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.

“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.

“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.

“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”

You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.

“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”

Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.

“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”

“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”

Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:

“So… are you two dating or not?”

“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.

Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.

That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.

Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.

I’m not a little girl anymore.

“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.

“Understood…”

“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”

Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.

“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”

With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.

“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”

[starbylers]

How much of “El” was actually in Will’s van speech, why this scene does NOT point to him letting Mike go, and what we actually know about Will's arc/Byler because of it

I know everyone jokes about the Will crying in the van shot so we sometimes forget how serious of a moment that was but like…..he was devastated. It’s always bothered me when people act as though this scene was about El in any genuine way, and that the message to take away is that Will is accepting Mike and El love each other and starting to move on. Both of these things couldn’t be further from the truth, they’re just convenient interpretations to fit a certain narrative.

In reality, Will assumed what El feels because he loves Mike, and that’s how he feels. There was no conversation between him & El, nothing Will ever witnessed, for him to determine that Mike "makes her feel like she’s better for being different”, that that helps her "fight". It’s what El wanted to feel from Mike, but she clearly didn’t (“You think I’m a monster too”). We never see Mike uplift her for her differences throughout the entire time they're dating, and then in s4 El gets a plot about feeling like she doesn't fit in (“I am different”) and actively lies to Mike about it ??? So...when exactly does Mike make her feel like she's "not a mistake at all"? El doesn't even feel safe giving him the opportunity, in fact she actively refuses to repeatedly: lying in her letters, asking Angela to lie to Mike at the rink, in their fight when he tries to understand & she tells him he doesn't. (And then when he tries in the monologue to use the sentiment “I love you for exactly who you are” etc.…she loses.)

And aside from that, explaining the painting and its meaning was the most blatant lie we see Will tell, and that’s all him. El didn't say all these wonderful things she loves about Mike, didn't create a gift inspired by something personal to Mike (DnD) to emphasise that message. Those were Will’s thoughts and feelings, unquestionably. There is nothing to suggest that El perceives Mike in that way ("the heart", "guiding the party, inspiring us", "without [you] we'd all fall apart"), that she understands Mike and knows exactly what to say to make him feel important, special and needed, that she loves him the way Will loves him (which just coincidentally happens to encompass exactly what Mike needs to hear to soothe his insecurities (“I’m just some random nerd” etc.)). And frankly even if we pretend El thinks the exact same things, Will was the one who did the work to make Mike happy. The idea that El should be able to coast on the efforts of someone else because "well she obviously feels the same way" (where ???) is kind of disturbing. Mike deserves better, and it makes no sense that the writers would narratively reward a love interest who put no effort into showing how much Mike is valued vs one who went above and beyond to make him feel loved.

That speech only applied to El insofar as Will sprinkles in "these past months she's been lost without you", "she's so different from other people", "we'd all fall apart, even El, especially El" and "if she was mean to you/seemed like she was pushing you away". Not because El said any of this, but because it's plausible for Will to come to these conclusions on his own and think he's correct (and even be partially correct). He knows El was doing awful in Lenora because she is different, he knows she's part of the group and has experienced Mike's leadership, he knows she fought with Mike and then left him. All of these things also affect him - he missed Mike's friendship while they were separated, he's different because of his sexuality, he's part of the group too, he "sabotaged" the day in Mike's eyes after not reaching out much and we know he's scared of losing Mike due to his feelings.

But the rest? "Of course she needs you Mike, she'll always need you", "You make her feel like she's not a mistake, like she's better for being different and that gives her the courage to fight", "if she [...] was pushing you away, it's just because she's scared of losing you" (I do think that one's partially true but Will wouldn't know beyond a guess), “if she was gonna lose you I think she’d want to get it over with quick", "El needs you and she always will” (and of course "El commissioned it" and the compliments he gives after)...who is Will to make those claims? He doesn't know how El feels, he didn't even know El was lying to Mike, she clearly doesn't confide in Will about her relationship. No, these things are all Will guessing/outright lying and letting his own feelings slip through. And just in general outside of Will, El hasn’t done/said anything elsewhere in the show to confirm that she feels any of this (in fact it was de-confirmed, in the case of the “better for being different” stuff).

Essentially, it’s all just Will's assumptions about El, some of which are based in reality and some of which are Will projecting. But most importantly, the reassurance and comfort he gives (the painting stuff) in response to Mike talking disparagingly about himself are Will and no-one else, and part of the most blatant lie he tells (“she told me what to draw [...] your coat of arms, it's a heart [...] without heart we'd fall apart”) is specifically what is called back to to push Mike into confessing!

Now, the idea of Will "accepting the reality" of Mike loving El is so ridiculously irrelevant. Will was heartbroken after he did what he did, this boy was literally sobbing out the window, but the whole reason he does is because he fully 100% believes Mike loves El. He knows, people! He spends the entire season giving Mike advice and pushing him towards her. Why would Will need to "accept" something he's been actively supporting before and during this scene? In his mind it's fully unrequited and he's operating within that reality in the most selfless, helpful, unobstructive way! He's not in denial, he has no hope.

What they really mean is he needs to move on and that this scene is somehow an indication that he is, but again, no: "[I] need you, and [I] always will" is Will's final projection before he cries his eyes out, and then later on we see him miserably staring at them again. The fact is, Will has accepted his "reality", that just didn't lead to him getting over Mike. No, it led to him sacrificing something he poured his heart into to save Mike’s relationship because he thinks that what will make Mike happy is to be with El, so he's making that happen. He is a bigger M!leven shipper than anyone. He still loves Mike, shows no signs of letting go, but he's just that selfless. And it's perfect, because no amount of knowing Mike loves El seems to change how much Will loves Mike. Incredibly inconvenient for a "plot" that relies on the gay character’s silly feelings magically disappearing out of reverence for a het couple and their deep soulmate love……

But this is why some people try to invent an imaginary arc where Will was somehow trying to get in the way of M!leven/had hope Mike could feel the same way, because otherwise you just get: Will likes Mike, knows it's hopeless, and then it randomly fizzles out lmao. Everyone knows that's not an arc; there's no change, no development, nothing learned. Plus, if Will is already in full acceptance of M!leven endgame…what’s next seaon's alleged rejection going to do/change? Nothing, Will’s feelings aren’t dependent on Mike reciprocating as has been shown, so the only purpose would be rubbing salt in the wound. And again, you end up with not an arc but a flat, depressing line. Will likes Mike, knows it's hopeless, has it painfully reaffirmed that yes it is hopeless, and then fizzle. If you know stories you know this makes zero sense, and therefore is not happening 👍

[butlervibesonly]

𝑊𝐸𝐿𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝐺𝑅𝐴𝐶𝐸𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐷 PART 2|| 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 || Austin! Elvis story

PART ONE OF THIS PART → PART THREE coming soon...

• Summary: Evils shows Y/n Graceland as she spends the day here with him. Eventually, she also joins the Presley family for lunch, revealing the sad truth of her parents.

• Pairing: Austin! Elvis x female reader

• Warnings: flirting, making out, kissing, probably typos

• NOTE!! My acknowledge of Elvis is not so big, all things I know are from movie, documents, webs etc! So I deeply apologize for any mistakes/typos/misunderstanding that have nothing to do with reality. All of this is fic and has nothing to do with no one or anything. Based just on Austin's role of Elvis!Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏼

• Note: Yall I apologize if its clingy or something, I try my best really 😭 AND MAKING OUT SCENES ARE NOT MY CUP OF TEA THIS JS ACTUALLY FIRST TIME EVER I WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS 🫨

Graceland is huge. You would get lost if it wasn’t of Elvis who shows you everything. Every little thing looks so luxurious and so rich. More like a house it feels like Elvis’ kingdom he’s living in.

“There, doll, is my bedroom,” he stops in front of big door. “I don’t usually let anyone in but I need ya go there.” There is a playful chuckle on Elvis’ face. You smile at him, knowing how lucky you are. “Well, that sounds really like honor.”

Both of you enter the bedroom which is covered in dark shades. Your eyes land on his massive bed and door to his own bathroom. “Wow,” you breathe out, your eyes exploring the room. Elvis stands next to you and you feel the warmth of his body on your own. “This is really - something.”

Elvis glances at you, smirking. “Mama’s makin’ lunch for us. Wanna sit before it’s done?” he gestures at the couch. You nod, sitting down. “Elvis… What did I do to… Y’know… Get this lucky?” you ask as he sits down beside you.

“Ya think it’s luck?” Elvis replies, with the cockiness in his eyes. “Y/n, I invited ya to get to know ya better, it wouldn’t be fair if I let you go hungry…” he, slowly and gently takes your hand into his.

You smile to his kindness and look around again. There is a guitar resting in the corner, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You look into your lap, fingers nervously tracing the pattern of your dress. Elvis sits next to you, hand supporting his head as he rests his elbow on the backrest. His eyes check you - it feels like he is eyeing every detail of yours.

“So, ya have always been good at school?” he asks, glancing at you with a curious smile. You nod and turn your face to look him in the eyes. “I kinda have to. My papa’s always been very... strict about it.”

Elvis tilts his head. “How strict?”

“Strict like... ‘Education is important, no distractions, no boys!’ kind of strict…” you answer, lips curling into a small smile when you realize how naive it sounds. “Guess I’m breaking his plans, huh?”

“Mhm… pretty much,” you laugh softly, but your gaze instantly shifts to the floor. “He just wants the best for me, I guess.” Elvis studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “And what do ya want?”

You hesitate for a while. “I mean, I want to make him proud, of course. But... sometimes I feel like there’s more out there, you know?”

“Then why don’t ya… do what ya want?” Your cheeks flushes, and glance at him shyly. “I would love to, really. But I’m afraid,” you start, your voice trembling. “I’m afraid that if I didn’t do what he wants, I might never get the bright future he promises me.”

Elvis shakes his head, his eyebrows raising. “Hmm…” he murmurs. “I wouldn’t treat ya like this, doll. If you were mine, ya would have everything.” At this your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?” you ask confused

“If you were mine,” he says his voice dipping deep enough to make your heart race even more than before , “ya would have everything ya ever wanted. Freedom, adventure... Ya wouldn’t have to live by anyones control, Satnin.”

‘Satnin’ replays in your head. He calls you either Doll or Satnin…

“I’ve never met someone like ya before. You don’t want anything from me. You’re not... trying to be someone you’re not.” he leans closer his finger removing some hair from your face.

Your chest tightens at his touch, and warmth spreads through you at his words. “Well, maybe that’s because I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be, yet.”

“Maybe that’s what makes ya so special,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper. What Elvis actually does is that he leans even closer, stopping a short distance away from your face to give you a moment to pull away if what he's planning isn't something you want to do as well.

But you don’t pull away. You and him did this before, after all… Elvis presses his lips against yours softly. His full lips feels so gentle on yours. It's almost as it was for the first time but there is one difference - it's more intense now. His lips are more warm and they part slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. His hand travels on your hip, while the other hand cups your cheek carefully.

He quickly pulls away, his both hands now on your hips so that he can carry you all the way onto his lap. You sit astride in his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses you again more greedy.

“Elvis-” you breathe out against his lips. However, he doesn't let you speak and before you can say anything, his lips are on yours again, biting your lower lip. His big hands roam your body gently, sliding from your curves all the way to your back so that he can pull you closer to his chest. Closing the gap between each other, you tangle your fingers into Elvis' dark hair.

You feel like a swarm of butterflies is flying in your stomach from the tingling you noticed earlier. Elvis girns into the kiss, knowing damn well how he makes you feel. “Elvis, I-“

“Doll,” he trails his kisses on your neck. “You feel like everything to me, angel.” he sighs, and you feel his breath on your skin.

“Bewbie! Lunch is ready!” As much as you would love to continue this, you both pull away from each other. Elvis presses his forehead against yours, rubbing both of your hips. “Guess ya will have to come more often…” You smile at his statement.

Both of you eventually gets downstairs where the dining room is just across the living by the stairs. The dining room looks as luxurious as the rest of the house. The table is set with plates and a food along with glasses. You almost gasp at the look of it - Gladys did this all because of you.

You sit in your chair, hands in your lap, trying not to fidget with them hem of your skirt under the gaze of Evlis’ mother. Gladys is a petite woman with soft, dark curls her eyes looking serious but actually she is very kind.

“Now, don’t you be shy, sweetie,” Gladys says motioning toward the plate of fried chicken. “Go on and help yourself. I made plenty, hope you’re gonna like it.”

“Thank you a lot.” you nod, your voice soft as you reach for a piece. Across the table, Elvis gives you an encouraging smile. “Mamas chicken’s famous around here,” he smirks. “Ya are in for a treat.”

“Stop it, now, El,” Gladys says with a laugh, swatting at Elvis playfully. “Don’t let him fool you, darlin’.” Gladys leans forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity and questions. “So, Y/n, tell us a little more about yourself. You’re a student, aren’t ya?” You nod, taking a look at Gladys and Elvis. “Yes, I am. I’m finishing up university this year.”

“And what’re your plans after that?” Vernon joins in, his voice carrying a note of authority, just like Elvis’. “Well,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “My parents wants me to have the best future possible. So that I’m successful and surrounded with the best only. They’re... really serious about education.”

Gladys tilts her head up, her expression softening. “That’s good of ’em, but you don’t sound too sure about it, darlin’.” You hesitate for a second again, knowing Elvis asked you familiar question earlier. You glance at him briefly before lowering your sight to the plate in front of you. “I’m not quite sure yet… They’re real strict, y’know. Always have been. I think they just want what’s best for them and not for me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but that sounds like they are fools,” Vernon says. “They kinda are…” you admit, your voice quieter. “They’ve got all these rules, especially my father. No boys until I graduate, no distractions, just school. Only school. Sometimes I even feel like... like I don’t have a chance to figure out what I really want.”

Gladys’ brow furrows and she eventually reaches across the table to pat your hand. “Bless your heart, honey. It must be hard to be in your position. But y’know, you can always reach out to us and we’ll help ya. You’ll figure it all out, I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you so much.” you say, your cheeks blushing at Gladys’ kindness. As much as you love your mama for raising you up and giving you all what you need, she would never step in like Gladys does.

“Well,” she adds, leaning back in her chair with a smile, “I can see why our boy’s so smitten with you.” Your eyes widen, and you glance at him. He grins, leaning forward to prop his chin on his hand. Even tho what just happened between the two of you, you couldn’t stop getting more surprised.

“Mama,” Elvis steps in, his tone teasing, “don’t say this, ya scarin’ her off.” Gladys laughs, waving him off. “Oh, shush, Bewbie. I’m just sayin’ she’s a sweet girl! You could stand to keep some better company, what with all them girls chasin’ after you.”

Vernon chuckles, nodding. “Your mama ain’t wrong about that.” You can’t help but laugh, your nerves easing just a little as the conversation continues with some fun stories, and all the jokes. You feel so welcomed here, almost as if you belong there.

As all of you start to clear the table, Gladys pulls you aside. “Y/n, sweetie,” she says softly, her hand holding yours, “I know it ain’t always easy standin’ up for whatcha want, but don’t let nobody decide your life for ya, y’understand?” You nod, the words settling deep in your heart. “I’ll try, I promise, and... Thank you Mrs. Presley- I mean. Gladys,” you remember she asked you to call her by the first name.

“Y’all welcomed me with open arms and… I never felt better. Not even at my own house. And I mean, I know Elvis just for few weeks but this all means a lot!”

“Oh, darlin’, I can see ya two are just gettin’ to know each other,” Gladys points with her eyes at your neck. You rub your neck confusedly, turning to see a reflection of yourself in one of the mirrors that are almost everywhere in the house. You see a slight hickey on your neck, and you gasp.

“Oh, dang it!” your hands flying over your mouth. “My father will loose his mind!” you turn back at Gladys, panicking. Her hands travel to your shoulders as she clearly wants to calm you down. “No, no, we can fix this,” she gestures you to stay here and walks somewhere.

As Gladys returns to you, she carries a bottle of makeup in her hand. “We’ll cover this up with makeup, sweetie,” she helps you cover the hickey Elvis left there. You never felt more embarrassed but clearly Gladys doesn’t really mind at all. “Keep this,” she gives you the bottle. “I have plenty of those,”

You smile at her gladly and Elvis appears in the door. “Ready for some music?” he smiles. The two of you together enjoy his music as he plays the piano or his guitar, and you enjoy so much fun.

As time comes for you to go back home, Elvis gives you ride back home. You wish you didn’t have to return home actually, because you felt so free and so independent. As Elvis stops in front of your house, he reaches for your hand, hidden enough so that your parents wouldn’t see in a case they would be looking.

He notices the pout on your face and he leans in loser. “Don’t be sad, doll,” his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will write ya and call ya if that will be possible.”

You smile a little, knowing you mean something to him. “Thanks, Elvis. For today and for… for everything.” you breathe out, looking over at your house. You see that the kitchen window is opened, definitely so that your parents can hear you arrive. “Your mama is such a sweet woman and your dad… I wish I had parents like you. Because you have freedom.”

Elvis furrows his eyebrows, squeezing your hand tighter. "Graceland is always open to you, Satnin,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief and see your father looking out the window. "Now go, honey, or I'll never let ya see me or be with me again." You let go of Elvis' hand and get out of the car.

You turn at the door to wave and mouth, "Bye, Elvis." He nods in farewell, his eyes gleaming. As you enter the house, your father is waiting in the hallway. Your hands are clenched into fists, waiting for him to ask or worse - notice something. You covered your hickey with Gladys's makeup before leaving Graceland, but you're still overcome with fear.

"How were ya?" he asks, his eyes scanning you. With a deep breath, you searched your mind for an answer as the memories from today started to come back to you. "Amazing, papa, everyone was nice to me," you replied, heading to your room. "But I'm tired now. Good night."

As soon as you get into your room, you shut the door behind you and fall down on your bed. You can’t stop thinking about Elvis; about the things you two have done, and how you felt that you are his girl. You know one thing for sure - you love that man with your whole heart.

[magicalrocketships]

You talked in the author's note about having more thoughts on Max's sexuality in Breaking every rule for you. I'd love to hear more about that, if you want to? 🤍

Oh, thank you for asking!! I did a whole disassociation thing after I posted the last chapter and I was like "it's very important to reply to comments and asks about this fic which meant a lot to me to write and to receive" and then I simultaneously thought orrrrr, alternatively, you can keep putting that off because you won't be able to properly tell people how much all the comments and asks meant. Anyway, that's a perfectly sensible series of thoughts to have, which brings me to this ask.

So, Max in Breaking Every Rule For You. This is half brain-dump, half director's cut of Max's POV. Either way, I accidentally wrote 3000 words about my beloved, feral Max. Sorry? Not sorry. I'll always want to talk about him 🧡🧡

He has literally no conception of this (and neither does Daniel), but he's very much on the asexual spectrum. He's demisexual, which is a word he's never heard and wouldn't know to use even if he had. 

He continues to tell the truth about his experience of life, but Daniel doesn't know enough to understand what Max is accidentally telling him, and Max doesn't know that his experience isn't universal. So! This fic is basically Max experiencing sexual attraction for the first time.

OBVIOUSLY this does not excuse Max behaving monstrously to Zoe and being hopelessly cruel to Daniel. He is, however, experiencing a lot of stuff for the first time and he didn't know! That he could feel like this! He is horny about someone else for the first time in his life! He'd be feral anyway, and he and Daniel stay completely feral after the fic's done and long into the future, feral and horny and all over each other, but there's this whole extra layer to it that's just Max being like... you can feel like this about another person? You can want someone THIS MUCH? You can want to fuck and come and kiss and touch another human being? Everybody in the world isn't lying about wanting it?

So on the one hand you've got Daniel's much more linear experience of oh, fuck, I've been bisexual all along, and the person who's opened my eyes about it is Max, what does this mean for my life and am I allowed to have something with Max for the longer term? In contrast to Max being so fucking thirsty to experience all of these things he's wanting for the first time, and barely understanding what it is he's wanting and the impact on the lives of the people around him who love him. He's so fucking needy and he barely understands the reasoning behind that, but that's partly why he keeps bringing Daniel back and reminding him of everything he's promised, everything Max is dying to experience but hasn't yet.

Even like, right back at the beginning when Max wants pictures of Daniel, it's because he's literally never felt attraction to another person. He's never looked at someone's body and wanted to touch it (or, in Max's case, to come all over him over and and over again and make him fucking filthy and his and have him show Max how he touches himself and how he looks soft and hard and horny and everything in between).

And all the things he wants to do to Daniel, he's never done to anyone else because he was horny about it. Everything he's done is because he thought he should, because he thought everyone was faking it when they said they were horny for touching other people. He can't slow himself down. He wants all of it. And then he'll do things like just warm Daniel's dick because he didn't know it felt good, and it feels so good.

On the other hand, Max has a fixed conception of love and relationships and they are work. They are a job. He has had girlfriends because he was supposed to have girlfriends and he's literally not figured out he's gay because he's not been close to a man long enough for attraction to develop, and with Max it takes a lonnnnng time, he's known Daniel for years and it's only been in the past few months it's started to change how he feels about him, ever since Daniel said he was going to leave and Max realised he not only wanted him to stay, he wanted him. And he doesn't want what he has with Daniel (something good) to crossover into relationship (something bad, something that's work, something that's always been a to-do list item) because then it will be bad. Max is getting every single thing he wants for the very first time in his life, of course he wants to keep things exactly how they are and ringfence this space in his life where Daniel is and he's getting everything he wants. The downside is that it's horribly cruel, but he doesn't entirely understand that, because he doesn't entirely understand either how he feels or how Daniel feels, and because he thinks that what he experiences is the universal, which is that relationships and love are bad and work. 

I kind of love that Max at the beginning isn't a great kisser - Max kisses like he jerks off, fierce and unimaginative. A race to the finish line. One day Daniel will make him slow it down. And part of that is literally because he's never enjoyed it before. He's never kissed anyone he wanted to have kiss him back.

But also, Max loves to jerk off. He loves to jerk off. Masturbation is the one thing he's always loved to do, because he's never been low on sexual desire, just attraction. He's jerked off thinking about Daniel before, too. Even before being really attracted to him. It's sort of why he wants Daniel in his bed, not because it's where he shares with Zoe when she's in Monaco, but because it's where Max jerks off, which is the one hugely positive sexual thing he's ever had in his life. Yeah, there's also some kind of "having a girlfriend is boring and work and I'm beating the system by having a better time in the space where that boring work happens" but Max isn't pre-meditiatively cruel in this. His cruelty is a by-product. 

Also: Max doesn't know that things can be better than what he has. 

He's barely managed to get his shirt off before Max is launching himself at him, making some Max-like attempt at human touch by cupping Daniel's face in his hands and pressing their mouths together. It's not romantic. It's not anything, other than fast, and maybe a little furious.

"You talked about kissing me," Max says, pulling away just enough that Daniel can feel the heat of his breath against his mouth. He's still cupping Daniel's face, and Daniel wants to cover Max's hands with his own and keep him there, make him stay still, make time slow down for them just this fucking once. "You said you thought about it. Kissing me. I've never kissed anyone like that, Daniel. I want it."

Max is telling Daniel the truth but Daniel doesn't pick up on it. Max hasn't ever kissed anyone like this before. And he wants it. 

Daniel spends a lot of time thinking about Zoe. Max doesn't think about her at all. He buys Daniel gifts because he's wild about him, because he needs to, like, put some of what he's feeling out into the world but he just— doesn't know how to do it. He's overflowing with it. 

"Think all the time about kissing you," Max tells him, still kneeling over him, leaning in so that he can mouth at Daniel's neck, kiss him so that Daniel will have a fucking love bite he'll have to cover with concealer if he wants to leave the house. Daniel doesn't stop him. Max can mark him up any way he wants. Daniel will take any scrap he can get. People shouldn't live off scraps, but Daniel will take anything Max throws at him. He'll judge himself later. "You have a good mouth, Daniel, I think about it so much." He kisses Daniel's jaw, along the line of it, over his stubble and up to his ear. It is not foreplay. It is just Max, taking what he wants. Daniel giving it because he wants the whole fucking lot of it and to drown in it afterwards. Better drown than starve. Max kisses his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Once, twice. The side of his nose. Is this Max, trying to be gentle with him? Trying to give something he normally only takes?

And then Daniel changes things, he tries to break up with Max and Max goes insane with it. For Max, Daniel really is ruining things. He is being a stupid motherfucker. This really is just sex because Max doesn't know how to understand what he's feeling. And he doesn't want to feel! Feeling is bad. He keeps trying to make the feelings stop. Of course Max just keeps trying to take things back to the space where things were working, because he wants it so much. Of course he's jealous, because he's fucking feral and a mess and he has no idea how to feel things like a real boy, because he never fucking has, and how he feels about Daniel is really fucking easy if only he knew how to identify or name any of the feelings he's feeling. 

So yeah: Max is heartbroken for the first time in his life, but he also just doesn't understand it. His chest hurts. He wants Daniel back in the space where it was all working. Daniel isn't the stupid motherfucker, Max is, for not managing to keep it so that Daniel would still kiss him and want him and touch him and text him, and Max is for not being able to stop himself from feeling stuff he doesn't understand. And then Zoe goes, and he doesn't feel anything. Not really. The only thing he's thinking about is Daniel. And then you get Max's entirely pragmatic, ruthless side, whereby he just makes sure Daniel is safe. He pays whatever he needs to pay to make sure Zoe is satisfied. He tells her the truth about not feeling about her the way he feels about Daniel. He doesn't mean to be cruel. It's a by-product again. It still is hopelessly cruel. He still only wants Daniel. He's the stupid motherfucker, not Daniel. 

And all the time, Max thinking he can get Daniel back to what they had before if only he keep trying. He knows Daniel wants him back. And he thinks he's getting it. He thinks he's getting Daniel back. It's want like he's never wanted. He thinks he's managed it, and then Daniel just— shuts him down. And Max just… breaks. It takes him by surprise as much as it takes Daniel when he sees Max crying, like he's crying and he didn't mean to start but he also can't stop. He loves him. That's what this is. 

"You are not listening," Max says, wiping his tears on his shoulder. "All of this time I am trying and I am trying not to want you and not to feel things but it did not work and I do and I did and I feel it in here and it won't stop." He presses the side of his fist to his chest, like Max is referring to his own fucking heart, which he can't be, because Max is Max, and Max doesn't feel anything, and he doesn't fucking feel anything for Daniel. "It is not fair that you won't listen. Always I am asking how do I make it stop, because you are just supposed to be sex, you are dick and that is for the dark and instead you are always just here, in my head and you have made me go mad thinking about you. Everything I do is very insane and it is all about you and my girlfriend left me and I do not care because she is not you and you tell me that you miss me too but now you are saying no when I want you more than I want anything and it is not okay."

It's the first time in his life he's ever been in love, and he's trying to make sense of it because he couldn't stop loving Daniel if he tried, but here's Daniel telling him he doesn't, and that he's stopped, and that is just— so far outside of Max's understanding. It's not fair and it's not okay and he doesn't know how Daniel could stop loving him if love is what he feels back for Daniel. 

And then he stays. He tells Daniel that no one kisses him like Daniel does. He says: "Nobody touches me like you do," Max says, which is probably a lie since Zoe loved him and wanted him and probably would have touched Max any way he wanted if he'd only told her. "Nobody, Daniel, nobody makes me feel like you do."

Daniel makes a soft, unholy noise in the back of his throat.

"It's true," Max says, urgently. "It is true."

Daniel doesn't realise how true. That no one has ever made Max feel or want like this. That this is the first time he's ever been attracted to someone. 

And for Max it's so clearly worlds apart from him and Zoe. They're not comparable. 

"She was my girlfriend," Max says. "But I didn't love her like I love you."

For a moment, Daniel's brain judders to a halt. It's felt like he's been on a constant spin cycle since last night, but for a moment, everything's still. "Yeah?"

"With you it is very different," Max says. "Everything is very different."

He keeps stroking the inside of Daniel's wrist. Daniel can't think of anything to say. He just watches Max touch him.

"Of course I kissed her, Daniel. She was my girlfriend. I did all the things you're supposed to do with your girlfriend. You cannot be tearing yourself up into knots about her when she is gone and you are here."

And

"I thought about your dick a lot. I thought I would like to see it. I jerked off and used my fingers and thought about you jerking off. I thought if I was going to suck a dick then it would be nice if it was yours."

"You had a girlfriend."

"Yes. I had everything I was supposed to want. Red Bull and Zoe and one day I will have my World Championship. But not you because you are a stupid motherfucker and you left me."

And Max loves jerking off. It's his favourite thing. 

But like, Max finally gets what he didn't know he wanted, which is more than just having sex at regular and irregular intervals, he gets a boyfriend, someone he can actually love and want to be with and it's all turning his conception of relationships and love upside down and he has to re-evaluate how that fits into his life, because relationships have been a boring part of work before, and now they're not, so he just has to… figure that shit out. 

This conversation where Daniel asks Max if he's gay: 

"Max," he says softly, after a minute. "Max, do you like girls?"

Max shifts on the pillow. He rolls his eyes. "Of course I do, Daniel, do not ask stupid questions. They are 50% of the population."

"I'm not—" Daniel searches Max's face. He wants to find something there that Max isn't showing him, some measure of understanding, of common ground beyond the fact that they're fucking and in love. "Do you like dating them?"

"I am dating you," Max says, as if he's talking to someone who barely understands English.

"Yes, but. Before. Did you like having sex with girls?"

"Zoe was my girlfriend. Of course I liked having sex with her."

This isn't Max just obfuscating. He hasn't defined himself as gay. He is, but he didn't necessarily— need to know it or define himself as such? It just wasn't important to him. He didn't really want to have sex with anyone so not wanting to have sex with girls less than him not wanting to have sex with guys he wasn't attracted to didn't matter so much? And now there's Daniel so it's even less of an issue because it turns out he can ferally cheat on Zoe for months and still not intend to ever be with anyone who isn't Daniel. 

Honestly it's more of a journey than Daniel will ever know to get Max to this: 

"I will do better," Max says, when there's nothing else coming, and Daniel's about to step out into the road. "I will learn, Daniel. To be a good boyfriend." 

It's not something he ever even considered before, and now not only does he want to, he's going to work on it too. 

Max smiles at him. He still fingers Daniel, because Max likes to multi-task and do it efficiently, but he lets his gaze rest on Daniel's. He looks happy. He looks so, so happy. "It has never been like this," he says, and Daniel doesn't say because you've been having sex with girls and you don't like them. He'll believe it's just about him. That Max feels like this about him and him alone.

Max telling the ultimate truth - it never has been like this, not a single element of it. Not kissing, not sex, not loving somebody else. Daniel doesn't entirely hear it, but then why would he? Even Max doesn't realise how much of a truth it is. 

"I always thought people were lying about kissing," Max says, without moving or looking at him or anything. "It was so boring. Everyone had to be lying. Nobody could like it unless they liked boring things."

What the fuck.

"So boring," Max says. He still doesn't move or look at him "Sex was boring too. I didn't know why anybody went out of their way when they could just jerk off. Masturbating was so much better than sex, Daniel."

Christ. Daniel's fingers twitch in Max's. "Did you ever think that was because you didn't like girls? And you kept having sex with them?"

"Eh," Max says, and shrugs. "I kissed boys too. Two of them. It was still boring."

Daniel's never thought sex was boring. He's liked it pretty much every time he's had it. He's been kissing girls since he was 14 and could make them laugh enough to kiss him over bags of crisps after school. He thinks about the two boys Max has kissed. What he did with them. When it was. Who it was. If he really thought it was awful. "Do you still think it's boring?"

Max shifts at that, twisting so he can look up at Daniel with the most insulted, don't be fucking stupid look on his face. "I have just licked my come out of your ass, Daniel. I want to have sex with you all the time. All of the things I jerked off thinking about doing I want to do with you. I want to kiss you forever."

Anyway. TL;DR, Max is demisexual and is new to sexual attraction and wouldn't be able to label himself as that if somebody paid him. 

[hermanoga]

before any serious shit wrecks havoc I want to ramble a bit

oh my god, I love xia fei. I mean I knew I would love him but that was for a different reason. He is probably gonna die in the near future, probably lu guang's action triggering his death (or he may not die at all! maybe he survives in this timeline, changing a major node! I hope, I hope), he is already a struggling student economically helpless abroad, his 'Emma' vibes are strong, he assures his worrying mother even though he goes through financial hardships. He is smart enough to know he is being exploited (and tbh the theme of surveillance and making him the 'morbid' object of gaze, I say morbid because in the last scene of his pv, it's a dead shot, his eyes look so dead, the camera's battery is dead. But yk what remains? his face card. The like button continually popping with likes made me very uncomfortable. The cinematography, symbolism and metaphor- link click's visual storytelling just never ceases to amaze.) Also how him being a model is not due to his passion, he desperately needs this money to survive (sounds familiar?)

But really...link click was really link clicking when we got xia fei's first appearance. Subtle social commentary at its finest. Not a woman, but a man is being made fun of for his astronomical career growth in exchange for supposed 'sexual favours'. Those ladies were not, in fact, subtle about it. I'll dive deeper into Xia Fei's psychology later but this encounter shows the harsh reality of the entertainment industries, mostly for those who did not join for passion but rather who had no choice.

Also the scene where his roommate. Man. It's important to address how 'casually' harassment can happen and an AMAB person can be a victim too. Anyway when the roommate tells him about ' the gig that pays quick money and they would like a hottie like you!' I couldn't help but flinch, I understand his rage. Of course, it's again insinuated to be something sexual. That's the first impression Xia Fei also has.

His pv is translated as 'lending body' or 'lending skin', ik it may have multiple meanings but one of them is very prominent.

Selling your face. Or maybe selling your body.

The way the camera fixes its gaze on Xia Fei continually, it's not really for fanservice merely. He is this object people ogle at. (and the way liu xiao and vein ogle at him in his pv makes me sick nvm). Even though it's his own body and beauty that makes him famous, he has no autonomy whatsoever. He realises it. That's why he says

Cause I have got nothing to loose

I don't really think link click is about time traveling. It's that archtexual exercise that constantly subverts genres at its level best. You know what, defamiliarise, many people do not like uncool stuff, for example : issues struggling young people actually face in real life, in this late stage capitalism. That's why link click should not reach that demographic of people. I hope it never does. I hope it gets famous within a community who actually understand and resonate with this show.

Also Xia Fei's story talks about another important theme of the donghua; photo! How photos taken in private spheres are meant to preserve memories of the loved ones, loved encounters. How you capture someone you love in that still image, alive with the emotion you associate with them, giving it an afterlife. The photo becomes the literal and metaphorical medium through which Lu Guang can rewrite history. Forget-me-not, remembrance. It empowers him.

On the contrary, for Xia Fei, it is the panopticon seizing his life and rendering it absurd. The emotive power and affect for lu guang changes into viscous institutionalised power politics for Xia Fei. Brilliant! 😭

I can't help but quote a few lines from a poem by Ama Codjoe

On Seeing and Being Seen

I am touching the photograph of my last seduction. It is as slick as a magazine page, as dark as a street darkened by rain.

When I want to remember something beautiful, instead of taking a photograph, I close my eyes. Desire made you beautiful. I closed my eyes.

.... Tonight, I am alone in my tenderness. There is nothing in my hand except a certain grasping. In my mind’s eye, I am stroking your hair with damp fingertips. This is exactly how it happened. On the lit-up hotel bed, I remember thinking, My body is a lens I can look through with my mind.

Lmao I didn't want to write all of this I'm so sorry 😭

So yeah, that was all the impressions hmph before yingdu ep 3. Now.

I want Xia Fei to be my bestie and go with me on friendship dates. Don't get me wrong, I love Cheng Xiaoshi, but he personally feels to be more like a brother to me, who is infuriating at times and that dumb bitch I'll protect at all costs. I want to befriend Xia Fei and it's serious 😭.

Also I would want, in another timeline, Cheng Xiaoshi and him being complete besties, two dumb twinks twinking with each other. Dumb gays basically. We have got INTJ nerd in Lu Guang, it's refreshing to see ENFP nerd in Xia Fei. Xia Fei could effortlessly be the best regular visitor of the time photo studio. I do not want to tear up thinking about him right now but I really want him to be happy...in another timeline. Blooming with happiness, close to his friends and loved ones, content and safe...

talking about loved ones...

I want an AU where he

fixes this mf

I want Vein to experience at least 1/5th of Lu Guang's anguish and melancholy for Xia Fei. I know, I know maybe Vein will kill Xia Fei when he defects, he is just using him from the very beginning but my love, that's what I am saying! In that AU, they will start off all toxic yaoi shit but at the end it will be...he was a cannibal and he was just a guy, their inter-timeline love will change your perception of love!

I mean no sorry, Xia Fei deserves to be loved and why Vein? because that's his punishment. Melancholic love can be the greatest punishment for someone who goes like a vendor and asks random people " would you like some punishment?" no, sir, thank you sir, would YOU like some sincere human emotions that chomp on your conscience? It's called love, it's limited edition but I'll arrange some for you!

Ok, I have got another fic to write 😭

[crooked-wasteland]

This Anon makes a point that fascinates me.

I know we all know the Fandom runs on emotional inertia. They really think we just feel a certain way about the show and so when we argue how Stolas abuses Blitz, but then how Stolas also abandons his daughter, they are legitimately confused.

How can we criticize both of those when they seem at odds with each other? They genuinely do not understand that our issue isn't in these choices, but the lack of weight and validation they have in the story. I have always loved the idea of Stolas having emotionally abandoned Octavia since Loo Loo Land due to only seeing her as a small child. This characterizes Stolas as not having been around to be a parent to her for a while. Specifically since she started puberty.

And that is great.

But the whole arc in Loo Loo Land was about bridging that divide and Stolas committing to being more involved in his daughter's life, even as he burns it to the ground. It's his shame incentivizing the relationship with his daughter to become rekindled, and that's excellent. I love the way the episode set this up.

So when Stolas proceeds to keep neglecting his daughter in Seeing Stars, it recontextualizes the message of Loo Loo Land. Stolas said he would be there more, and in fact he is still an absent father. So to have Seeing Stars end with Loona telling Octavia that she should be more forgiving, it makes Stolas, and Loona, a terrible person.

Which to clarify is not a problem.

Which means if that scene had a modicum of self awareness, Loona looking at that lighter shouldn't have been her saying how hard "Dads try" but rather realizing she is terrible to Blitz the same way Stolas is to Via and if she keeps treating him badly, he will abandon her the same way Via ran away from home.

What is the problem is this:

While we are supposed to see Loona as "connecting" through sharing her own feelings about her father, really she is the Stolas of her dynamic with Blitz. She is equally emotionally abusive to Blitz as Stolas is to Via. Not in the same ways, but to the same extent.

This isn't about emotions. We aren't hung up on characters because we think Medrano has it out for them or doesn't like them. We want these characters to be potentially unlikeable. But the story never takes into account the larger implications for how these actions, all actions, have consequences.

Except she kicks him between the legs when he apologizes for doing nothing wrong.

In the same way, the show does not identify stolas as being the problem. And because the show doesn't recognize that how he's behaving is harmful. He has no way of actually growing past that. It's okay that he's terrible but the show needs to know he's terrible.

This is why I keep stressing the importance of world building. Any show that doesn't have any world building, like Hazbin and Helluva, will be terrible. No matter how much talent or effort or good ideas go into them. Emotions are not good enough to love or hate anything. Emotions are fickle, fleeting and highly changeable by context. You can't survive on something so unstable. And the longer you try and manipulate people's emotions, the weaker the effect you have. You need to ground on something firmer than how the characters feel.

You can't build a house on sand, and they are trying to build a city.

Stolas saving Blitzø isn’t the problem, for me it’s Stolas’ lack of moral dilemma and hesitation. Helluva Boss loves slapping the audience in the face of how Stolas loves his daughter/how she means the world to him, show official painted images of Stolas taking care of Octavia, etc. But Stolas for the most part doesn’t show it with his actions onscreen.

Immediately once Stolas found out that Blitzø was going to be executed, he immediately rushes to his rescue. In this moment, he doesn’t think about Octavia. It’s only after Stolas gets stripped of his powers that he now thinks about Octavia.

I know it wouldn’t change Stolas and Octavia’s overall fight but at least it would illustrate that Stolas does cares about his daughter and that she isn’t an afterthought or a meat shield to use against Stella for an argument.

[elainsgirl]

I don’t understand how antis say that elucien has as much foreshadowing as elriel. Apart from the unwanted mating bond what romantic moments do they have.

Alright, let’s count without being biased:

Ig him giving Elain his coat in Acomaf? I think thats the absolute bare minimum but for some odd reason its romantacised?

wanting too leave Spring to see if Elain was worth fighting for Elain.

erm. Hmm. Lucien telling them to take Elain out of the house and outside…which Amren and Madja also said

”she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…she was nothing like Jesminda, Elain had been thrown at him”

Elain taking that halfstep towards him, it wS serving the good angst

A smile blooming on Elains face when she sees Lucien

Lucien fighting his way through the battlefield for her

and them having a conversation in the end of acowar together without anyone else present

Luciens gifts towards Elain if you ignore the fact her smile faded afterwards and she liked none of them enough to use them

I mean some *I* don’t find romantic and the books canonically does not place any significance on more then half these scenes so if we’re going by the books only and whats written to be romantic - 5-8 everything else is twisted interpretation. Now, The *only* foreshadowing that gives some leeway to elucien is Elains connection to sunlight and Lucien being an heir to day HOWEVER neither are connected together through sunlight together and you have to ignore Luciens autumn and fire imagery as that does not fit elucien in anyway. Along w Mass writing the line, “Lord of fire and Bird of Flame” between Vassien. With elucien, you have to disregard a lot of canon context to find some of their scenes romantic hence why you often find elucien’s purposely twisting quotes and scenes to show it in a better light

Ofc let’s look at some elriel scenes, *just from acowar* 1. Elain calling Azriels scars beautiful and not balking away from hin -> he blushes = romantic coded scene

2. Elain and Az chilling together in the garden -> Feyre looking at them and THEN questioning elucien’s bond, “why not make them matss?” - scene written to be significant.

3. Azriel mirroring Cass and going still at the sight of Elain -> we know how Cass feels about Nesta at this point, by having Az copy Cassians action for Elain it places both couples on the same romantic scale - again a purposeful choice by Sjm

4. “A seer” -> Az figuring out what was amiss w elain, Madja said only a mate can do so, so again written to be significant especially when you parallel it to Lucien standing there clueless

5. “You came for me?” -> significant moment for Elain, It wasn’t her mate that came but Azriel

6. Azriel cradling Elain to his chest despite swaying and bleeding

7. Elain rising to her toes and giving him a peck on the cheek -> no need for that, romantically coded again

8. The whole scene where Az gave her truthteller. THAT was written to be monumental, “Death and the lovely fawn” - I would not say this is typically romantic HOWEVER It is peak elriel foreshadowing and lore for their plotline w the prison.

With Elucien, thats all across 4 books. With elriel thats just ONE out of FOUR books. And ALL four books contain even more romantic elriel foreshadowing and plot. 1, 3, 6 and 7 are romantically coded and written. Its not something anyone can argue about. Its the standard formula for a couple written to be romantic and you can find this formula in any romance book. 2, 5 and 8 are significant scenes especially as they’re brought up again within the books, like you can’t argue against the importance of these scenes. As for 4 - its a stark parallel between Lucien and Elain, showing who understands her more.

so no. Elucien may have had some foreshadowing in acomaf and spread thinly throughout acowar but it no where near rivals Elriels scenes and foreshadowing especially as elriels’ are ones written to be remembered and significant. Eluciens aren’t.

[bubblergoespop]

my porter and vincent audio rambles heheheheHEHEDSSHRTHERE’S SO MUCH

first of all, i cant believe vincent didn’t slam the door in porter’s face after his first sarcastic comment but hey ho i’m glad he didn’t. and porter saying “is it so hard to believe i wanna talk to you?” to which vincent responds “yes” with no hesitation oh vincent you’re so funny when’s your next show

“you’re the closest thing i have to a person in my life who’s faced a similar situation” I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS!! you could take this as porter just really not knowing very many people and so vincent’s just his only option, nothing more. but i personally think it shows how vincent and sam (as i’ve said before) are the closest thing porter has to a family. sure, vincent’s probably his only option besides sam, but the fact that porter even SEES him as an option is something that matters to me.

WE’VE GOT CONFIRMATION OF A PORTER AND WILLIAM CONVERSATION THAT DOESN’T PREDATE THE SUMMIT!! one about vincent and sam leaving the house! this is huge okay. i think that adds so much more weight to how porter was feeling in the bonus scene with sam and the argument audio treasure. i wishhhh we got to hear that convo, i’m still holding out hope that we’ll get an audio of a convo between porter and william at some point in the near future.

porter has said he regrets what he said to treasure. explicitly. he clearly feels bad and clearly wants to make amends, so much so that he’s gone to see a guy, who he has literally tried to choke out, for relationship advice. i’m so glad that porter isn’t vaguely saying oooohhh maybe i made a mistake, but that he’s CLEARLY stating he feels bad for the things he said and he knows he shouldn’t have retaliated that harshly.

however, with all this confirmation of porter’s wrongdoings (both by vincent and by porter himself), i’m really worried that we’ll only end up getting a one sided apology to treasure from porter. i’m scared we won’t end up seeing treasure take any responsibility for their part in the fight and the events that led up to it. but i’ve not lost hope entirely, vincent still says “you don’t owe anyone every part of you,” and “explain why that boundary was important to you,” which, to me, shows that vincent is acknowledging there MAY have been ways in which porter’s “human” was in the wrong. they may have felt like they were owed a part of porter that they weren’t, or they may have crossed a boundary they shouldn’t have. of course vincent doesn’t explicitly say anything more because how could he know? he wasn’t there. vincent also says porter should hear treasure when treasure tells him how they feel. this could mean just treasure telling porter they’re upset, but it could also involve treasure telling porter that they feel regret too.

speaking of treasure apologising, obviously you can tell i think they’ve got stuff to apologise for. and i think it’s so interesting that porter didn’t bring that up at all in his conversation with vincent. the most he says is that they “pushed.” he doesn’t specific how hard, and he doesn’t even mention that treasure began chucking insults at him because of his resistance. i do believe porter shouldn’t be withholding so much if he truly wishes to be close with treasure, but treasure made clear mistakes in attempting to bridge that gap. why didn’t porter bring this up with vincent? why did he take all the blame? i’m feeling like we’re gonna get an apology audio and porter’s gonna apologise, then treasure’s gonna apologise and porter’s gonna be all “noooo you never did anything wrong you could never do anything wrong you’re perfect and innocent and you have no flaws” and i REALLY hope that’s not how it goes down because i love flawed listeners.

i love how vincent acknowledged that treasure CAN understand porter because they’re a human being, capable of empathy. and porter heard him out on it. he didn’t immediately shut him down. we already knew that porter would agree with that because porter says “maybe you could. in time,” in the argument audio when referring to treasure’s understanding of porter’s situation. porter still rebuked treasure’s ability to understand later in the argument audio, but i just think it’s neat that this later agreement with vincent shows just how much porter lets a heated moment cloud his common sense. if porter could think logically in the moment, 90% of his fights could be avoided but he’s moody as fuck (and i love him for it).

“I could throw in a few southern adages, if that’d make you feel better.” AWHHH vincent attempting to break the ice a bit with a friendly jab at sam’s southernness ohhhhh i love men occasionally

oh and the way vincent ever so softly asked “what did they push you on?” SEE HE CARES SEEEEEE and he even considered asking porter more about what upset him by asking if it was okay to “push”. sure, porter declined, but the fact that vincent thought to ask at all is sooooo sweet to me.

porter asking for clarification on what made vincent want to leave and then his contemplative silence during the explanation has me thinking that HE’S THINKING. hard. he’s considering whether he should follow suit, whether he’s ALLOWED to follow suit. he asks “are you afraid?” and you could take this one of two ways. the first is: porter was asking if vincent’s afraid of other vampires now that he’s essentially estranged from his “protection” and exposed to vampire society. the second way to interpret this is: porter is asking if vincent is afraid because of WILLIAM. he’s wondering if vincent is afraid of any consequences that vincent and those close to him might face for rebuking will’s “kindness”.

the mutual thank yous at the end oh i am not making it through 2025 if this loveliness continues AAAAAAARGHH

“family looks out for one another.” THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING despite their conflicts, porter sees vincent and sam as the closest people he has to family.

[vickytaa]

Going to this party was a mistake. I knew it, but I didn't want to admit it.

Seeing Chris so happy and so... relaxed after everything that's happened between the two of us, oh my god, it hurt.

How could he be so... calm?

I haven't been able to have even a minute of rest where I didn't torture myself for ruining "ours."

But I was lying to myself. There was no us, there was no “ours.” It was just my imagination, my foolish heart falling in love with the forbidden.

Chris had warned me about this, because he always knew what would happen, he knew me. But why did I just get carried away by the moment? Why didn't I stop when it started to hurt?

It's like I'm twisting the knife inside myself all the time.

My heart had already stopped the moment Chris got up from our my bed, saying that we should never have done this.

My eyes were once again filled with tears of pain. Crystal tears. The words that came out of his mouth, the moments when I innocently thought there was something between us, everything we went through together, were running through my mind. Rather, they lived there.

But to see him like this? Laughing and having fun with his friends as if he hadn't broken someone's heart a few days ago?

I thought it meant something to him, that there was something more than just fucking. But no. There never was. And there never will be.

And I should have understood that, but I couldn't really wrap my head around it. That's the problem.

I am the problem.

Unable to take my attention off of him, his eyes met mine, and for a second I thought he could see beyond my red, watery eyes, beyond the words I once said, beyond everything. He could see me.

But it didn't matter anymore, because he already knew everything about me. There was nothing more to know.

I walked through the sweaty bodies of people, trying to find a way out of this horrible place. Trying to find a way out of this pain.

The cold air froze my thoughts, this was my way out. My accelerated breathing slowly returned to its normal rhythm.

The tears slowly came out. The pain in my chest was getting stronger than last night.

"Y/n..." A familiar voice stopped time.

Chris grabbed my arms and turned me around to face him. It broke him into a thousand pieces to see me like this, knowing that he was the reason for all of this.

"I just... I just don't understand, Chris! I can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone." My sobs added to the broken feeling in my voice.

"I guess you never meant what you said that night." My mind went back to the moment when Chris said that I was very important to him, that he could never hurt me. Never.

Chris stretched out his arms trying to hug me to calm my crying, while I pushed him with the last of my strength, trying to get away from him.

"No! Don't take me with you anymore!" I tried to act strong by pushing him away, only proving that I wasn't.

Chris could have done whatever he wanted with me, but he just stood there. He wouldn't leave no matter how much I begged him to leave. Because he and I both knew it wasn't true.

"I hate you because... even though you're killing me, I need you... I need you like the air I breathe." The words were out of my mouth before I could process them.

I couldn't think what I was saying, my mind was so damaged.

"Shh" Chris tried to silence me, knowing this is hurting us both.

Moving away wasn't the easiest decision, but it was the best one for both of us. Or so Chris thought.

"I need you, Chris." My voice was getting quieter and quieter, even though I was trying to scream with all my might.

Chris's eyes matched mine, filled with tears, releasing the pain he once felt but never wanted to show.

My cheek was pressed tightly against Chris's chest. His arms were wrapped around me as best they could, trying to keep me close, thinking, knowing that if he let go I would run away, just like he did.

My mouth released, as low as a sigh, my last prayer before breaking, "You- I... I need you"

[dreadpirateella]

I promise we will get back to our regularly scheduled turtle posting soon but guys I have to yell about Sonic 3 bc ohhhh my gosh

Sonic 3 spoilers below!!!

this movie, y'all. I should preface this with the fact that I know next to nothing about Sonic outside of the live action universe, so a lot of my excitement comes from my limited knowledge of this franchise

Shadow is so much different than I thought he would be! Keanu did a phenomenal job voicing him imo. He made him seem a lot more like a person with actual feelings than I thought he was before I watched this. I kinda had an idea in my head that Shadow was this emo angry kid and didn't know why but this was an incredible subversion of those expectations and I'm so glad his character is the way he is!! He's so interesting to watch. His realization at the end that this definitely isn't what Maria wanted (or what he wants) was just so incredible. I loved his team up with Sonic!

Honestly the entire story of Shadow and Maria was just so devastating to watch. It's so important for how the audience views Shadow for us to see that past and how happy he was so that we can understand why he wants revenge so bad. It's so so so good and his sacrifice at the end of the movie was incredible. The fact that he was willing to give up his life to fix his mistake just says so much about who he is.

and Maria's line of how the light still shines even after the star has died was beautiful. That sentiment is just so heartwarming <3

Also I'm an "always watches the credits" girlie so YES I SAW THAT SCENE AT THE VERY END MY BOY IS ALIVEEEEEEE

and SPEAKING of credits scenes, THEY'RE MAKING ANOTHER MOVIE???? WITH AMY???? HELLO????? let's freaking go I'm so pumped

Knuckles and Tails were more of sidekicks in this movie than in the ones before, which was a tad bit disappointing. I know that with as many characters that are in this universe it can be hard to balance screen time between them all, but still. I think watching an entire show focused on Knuckles skewed my view a bit too, so that could just be my like weird warped perception throwing me off idk (and my love for Knuckles is definitely throwing me off haha)

I loooove the way Robotnik's story ended!!! He died doing something good, and I just rly like that. The closure of the plot line between him and Agent Stone was wonderful too!!

Maddie and Tom were (as always) absolute MVP's here! I love that they give the boys freedom to go do what needs to be done, but they're also always willing to get involved and help. It's wonderful I love them a lot <333

SPEAKING OF TOM????? dude I was PANICKED OHHH MY GOSH and Shadow's immediate regret at seeing how upset Sonic was GAHHHHH :(((((( SO glad Tom's okay bc omg I woulda lost it. I loved how Sonic was fueled by his grief and OH the part where Knuckles was gonna fight him over the master emerald but backed down bc he wanted to keep his oath???? that stabbed me in the heart I love him

Ok I'm done yapping thanks for reading my nonsense <3333 I actually can't express my excitement over these goobers I just love them so so so much

[hooked-on-elvis]

THERE IS A TIME AND A PLACE FOR JOKES, PRESLEY!

AN INTERESTING INSIGHT ON ELVIS' ANTICS ONSTAGE IN THE 70s AND ARTISTS' PERSPECTIVE ON THEIR CAREER

August - September 1973, Las Vegas, NV.

"Elvis had a wonderful, zany sense of humor and I think the pictures in this book are evidence of that fact. These photographs were taken in Las Vegas in August, September 1973, when Elvis was in a specially 'zany' mood. He did such things as making funny rhymes, singing silly lyrics to his songs, coming on stage piggy back with a toy monkey in his shoulder and coming on stage in bed. The show became 'the Elvis Presley comedy hour'. Actually, it seemed to be two shows going on at the same time; one show for the audience out front and the 'inside' show for the band and singers onstage. But finally, the Colonel had a talk with Elvis about it, because some people walked out and wanted their money back. They didn't like Elvis making fun of their favorite songs and the Colonel didn't like giving money back."

— Glen D. Hardin, musician on the TCB Band at the time. March 2002. Except from the book 'Elvis: Caught In A Trap" by Arjan Deelen and (pictures by) photographer Laurens von Houten.

Okay, this surprised me a lot. I guess I was too naive to imagine Elvis could displease his audience in other scenario than by a poor vocal performances he gave when he was struggling with his health, specially just for trying to enjoy his time working, having fun with the audience and his musicians. I always looked at those silly things he did onstage as what turned his shows in very singular events, like... no gig could be like the other, regardless of the setlist or the stage costumes being the same in some cases, and that's because of his spontaneity onstage, the moments he shared a bit of who he really was in his private life, someone who enjoyed laughing and making people laugh more than anything, someone who appreciated comedy. It shocked me, to be honest, to know some members of his audiences took his playfulness as unprofessional behavior or something. How in the world could they ask for the money paid to see Elvis in flesh back? As a fan, I can understand how it is when a song means too much for you and you listen to the artist not taking it seriously... It kinda spoils the mood that song gives you, taking your attention away from whatever dear memories you get from listening to certain songs with touching lyrics. I understand that. To be honest again, the first time I've heard some of Elvis' takes from recording sessions and I could see the way his mind was not really in some of the songs sometimes but rather in his own life and whatever was going on in real time in the studio, I was like 'how is that even possible? I thought that song was important to him...' and then I begin to appreciate having a glimpse of what he was like behind the scenes, but that came with time, at first I was a little disappointed but not with him, but with the way I took the songs he recorded to my heart as they were officially released, without considering the actual life of someone who makes those songs. I can understand the fans who were not pleased by Elvis' silly jokes, changing the lyrics, and I can also see why Elvis did it. He was singing practically the same "greatest hits" with little freedom to explore his less known/successful songs on stage or even feel free to sing whatever songs he was in the mood to, like a normal person can do. He was a professional and tried to balance giving what people wanted from him with not letting the boredom take his spirit (because that would show like it did in some moments in his career). I can understand his side of the issue... it must be awful to sing the same damn songs many times in a row in order to get a master take, and the same in his shows, singing the same songs day after day... There is a moment you have to be sick of it! You can't avoid it. Elvis was a person who loved novelties, loved feeling challenged, loved experiencing the world and having first times. Of course there was moments where he was singing his hits more or less in auto pilot, not intently listening or feeling the words, but just reproducing them the best way he could, in order to please his fans. But feeling sick of being stuck is a real thing, and that's when he had to be spontaneous to make the moment new to him in some way, even if with just a silly little joke. Anyhow, it's interesting to have the perceptive from an artist like that. I deeply appreciate him taking the risk of not pleasing people, because that meant he was being true to himself and was trying the best he could to take care of his own mental and emotional health.

Again, thank you @eapep for letting me know how to find this great book online. In case you want to read it too, click here (archive.org link to the uploaded file).

[greenerteacups]

I can't help but giggle how Ron and Harry in LH both doubt Draco's feelings for Hermione when it's, like, the complete OPPOSITE of what they think. Harry's being all big brother-y like about Hermione and how Draco should treat her right and respectfully or ELSE whilst Ron in the latest chapter assumes he's playing around with the poor girl.

And in reality I'm pretty sure Draco is envisioning his and Hermione's wizardesque wedding for the past 2 books.

Can't help but love the boys' obliviousness in regards to feelings here.

Also goes to show how Draco truly opens up only to Hermione in the most profound-est way. I love them.

Oh, yeah. I think I wrote this in a reply to a comment on AO3, but Ron and Harry are very good people afflicted with Teenage BoyBrain, and in Harry's case, Brother Instinct wherever Hermione is concerned. So they assumed that if Draco and Hermione like each other but aren't together, it's because Draco's not being an upstanding young gentleman, not because (as is the case) Hermione's indulging in a bit of age-appropriate emotional terrorism.

There are also broad gaps between (1) what Draco reveals via narration, (2) what he reveals to Hermione, and (3) what he reveals to Harry and Ron. They know each other very well, but Draco plays his cards so close to the chest — especially when it comes to the whole "if you're important to me it means I'd firebomb a hospital for you" thing. He has this unspoken idea that the moment he admits he cares for someone, they're immediately going to get snatched away by the long hand of the universe, which in fairness to him is informed by certain events that make him not totally wrong. (You might also attribute this to his taste in people, however, which trends towards the reckless and the driven; cue moth/flame metaphor, etc., etc., you all know.) So that's why there's about a half-year lag between whatever Draco recognizes in his own emotions and what everyone else in the story seems to believe: that's about how long it takes Draco to get comfortable broadcasting his feelings.

By the middle of fifth year, both Harry and Ron are full aware (as the chapters reveal!) that Draco cares for Hermione, but I think both boys project themselves onto him, to the detriment of their understanding (as most teenagers do). Ron reads a little more into Draco's possessiveness and jealousy, which are the traits they have most in common (cf. Ch.73). Part of that judgment is Ron's emotional straightforwardness: he sincerely can't imagine any reason that Draco wouldn't be dating her properly if the feeling was reciprocated, so he assumes that there must be some obstacle somewhere, and because he's a bit in love with Hermione in his own right, he obviously assumes the obstacle is Draco. What's Draco's number one problem? He's got a bucket of daddy issues and hangups over his family legacy, especially vis-a-vis public displays of affiliation. And Ron doesn't maybe think Draco's being actually prejudiced here (otherwise, he would have been much, much harsher with him in their argument) but he does think there's a degree of shame or uncertainty on Draco's part that's in the way of them getting together.

Harry, meanwhile, reads the whole situation as a communication failure: he thinks Draco doesn't realize what he's doing, because if it were Harry, messing someone around sincerely would be a cognition failure. It's not outside Harry's frame of possibility that Draco could end up in a romantically charged situationship by accident. And he probably rates higher the possibility that Draco would deliberately maintain a relationship like that to avoid losing Hermione's attention. Notably, Harry doesn't assume that Hermione's particularly hard-done-by in this situation; in fact, his default assumption is that she's where she wants to be, and if she didn't like it, she wouldn't be there. His trust in her is helped by the fact that he regards her as a pseudo-sister, and doesn't have any stake in the love triangle except that everyone treats each other well. For that reason, his final comment on the matter is a plea for Draco to consider how Ron might feel: he wants to remind them that they're friends, because he watched the group fall apart last year over an argument similar to this one (jealousy, possessiveness, and a torturous litigation of in-group favoritism). Harry is provoked to intercede because he thinks there's a danger of the situation blowing up due to miscommunication and leaving all of them isolated when they need support the most �� which is naturally something that the increasingly isolated and angst-ridden Harry thinks should be top priority.

Anyway, I love them, too.

[linoalwaysknows]

Miscommunication.

Warnings: leeknow is referred to as Minho, female reader, as the title suggests miscommunication but !!! They reconcile 😌

a/n: I am. SOSOSOSOSO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG.. I GOT WITH A HUGE WRITERS BLOCK (war is over). I also had finals and results, and I got.. ENGAGED??? OMG??? Anyway, this broke me to write bcs this hits a sore spot lololol, it took a while, but it's here (not like you knew it was coming, hehe 😊)

Summary: After Lee Know forgets to update you on an important schedule change—something he promised to do—you confront him, leading to a heated argument. Frustrated and hurt, you express how his repeated slip-ups make you feel unimportant in his life. Though defensive at first, Minho realizes the impact of his actions and opens up about his struggles, promising to do better. The fight ends with heartfelt apologies and a renewed commitment to improving communication, as both of you reconcile and reaffirm your importance to each other.

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You were sitting on the couch, arms crossed tightly against your chest. Lee Know stood a few feet away, his hands on his hips, looking equally frustrated. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and neither of you seemed willing to break the silence.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “It’s not like I meant to forget.”

You let out a sharp laugh, though it held no humor. “That’s exactly the problem, Minho. You always forget. You said you’d tell me when your schedule changed, and yet I had to find out through someone else. Again.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m busy, okay? Do you think I intentionally leave you out of things?”

“That’s not the point!” you snapped, standing up from the couch. “I know you’re busy, but it takes two seconds to send a text. It’s not about your schedule—it’s about you constantly leaving me in the dark. It makes me feel like I’m not important enough to know what’s going on in your life.”

His eyes softened for a moment before he looked away, his jaw clenching. “That’s not true. You are important to me.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m always the last to know?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly despite your effort to sound strong. “You promised me you’d do better, and yet here we are.”

He groaned, pacing back and forth. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry, okay? But I can’t always remember everything.”

“That’s the issue, Minho,” you said quietly, your anger simmering down into sadness. “I don’t want to feel like I have to fight for a place in your life. I just want to feel like I matter.”

The room fell silent again, your words hanging heavily in the air. Minho stopped pacing and turned to look at you, guilt flashing across his face. “You do matter,” he said softly, stepping closer. “I know I’ve been careless, and I hate that I made you feel this way.”

You stayed silent, your eyes fixed on the floor. His hand reached out hesitantly, brushing against yours. “I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to lose you. Please.”

You glanced up at him, his expression raw and sincere. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Minho. I just need you to try. To show me that I’m worth the effort.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I’ll do better. I swear. You’re too important to me to keep messing up like this.”

Your resolve cracked, and you let out a shaky breath, leaning into him. His arms wrapped around you immediately, pulling you close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ll try harder. For you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, letting yourself relax in his embrace. “But no more empty promises, Minho.”

“No more,” he agreed, holding you tightly. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you were truly heard.