#he just calls Leon a government lap dog

[danvssomethingorother]

Dylan: and you Leon are the US government’s biggest slut. There isn’t a cock you haven’t sucked in the Oval Office. You are the world’s biggest disgrace

Leon dying on the ground:

[localkiss]

i just saw a reply to my anonymous message sorry 😭 and thanks for the answer!

i think a very dynamic story would come out where leon’s romantic feelings for us bordered on parental ones. and yes, this is forbidden love and dark notes won’t hurt, i guess

okayy I have some written down, lmk if I'm picking up what you're putting down, anon! :D

You swear up and down that nobody will ever love you like he does. Care for you like he does. Pamper you. Put up with you like Leon does.

Or maybe it's the way that he loves you. It's weird. Constantly wants to be called daddy, sometimes even dad. Needs to be showered with authority and respect on the daily. Cook his meals for him and make sure the house is relatively cleaned up. Simple things he wants from you.

Shit, maybe it's because he's known you ever since you were a teenager. Saved you from dying when he was just a rookie Agent, on Operation Javier. Said, "I've got you. I'm not going to hurt you. Okay?" Had to hide you from the government. Not because you were injected with a virus, but because you were just a regular civilian.

He felt bad for you, reminded him of RC and Sherry. This time, he can save somebody properly. Albeit, he might have to hide you for a bit and get you a new identity. You, on the other hand, fell in love with him at first sight. Didn't even care about what was going on, except for if he was hurt or not.

After awhile, Leon decided to shape you up. Make you somebody who he can look forward to coming home to. Had to teach you how to cook what he likes, wash his clothes the way he likes, and greet him the way he wants to be greeted. Thought to himself, "If I can't have a normal life and a family of my own anytime soon, I'll just teach them to call me daddy."

Or at least that's what it was at first.

Now, he's kissing you, groping you and burying himself deep inside of you. Says it helps him ground himself with the now and helps get rid of any stress from work. Since he's the government's lap dog.

Constantly filling you to the hilt with his cum. Especially when you call him dad. Makes him all fuzzy inside, thinking about a family of his own. Whatever he wants, you deliver to the best of your abilities.

"Hey baby," he presses a kiss to your temple, snuggling up behind you on the couch. "Whatcha doing?"

"Resting my eyes." You mumble into the blanket, feet moving backwards to tangle with his legs.

"Sounding more and more like your old man," he chuckles heartily, giving you a nudge to which you groan at.

You flip over and bury your face into his chest. The warmth of his body and the scent of his earthy citrusy cologne is overwhelming your senses in a good way. Makes your mouth water a little bit. Truly feels like home when Leon's around.

"Shut up, daddy." You headbutt his collarbones and his chest shakes and you can hear him trying not to laugh at you. Breaths coming out of his nose rapidly as he lets out a soft laugh, patting you on the butt.

[shelbyshoe]

Doubt

(Unedited Aeon Drabble)

Run, get there. Run, Leon god damn it.

His legs ached and his body felt heavy, now soaked from the rain. There was no question where he needed to be. As soon as their enemy laughed and barked out that Leon was too late.

Ada was taken to the warehouse. They'd press her for information. Then, they'd kill her. The thought made his heart race. His feet stumbled over an exposed root in the brush.

Leon fell hard into the drenched soil. He felt the mud cake over his skin, felt the rain roll down his face. With a grunt, he stood and pushed through toward the warehouse.

Be alive. Be alive. Be alive.

The rain came down harder, a crack of lightening lit the sky then doused the world in darkness. The roiling clouds told him this wouldn't end soon.

The warehouse came into view. He ran to the nearest window, sure they wouldn't hear him over the rain.

He nearly sagged against the window, out of breath. The previous combat had taken a toll on his body. But he had to be here, and he glanced through the window coated in grime. She was alive.

"I don't want to damage that pretty face of yours." The man held up her knife as if the very thought of slicing her up would scare her. But Ada Wong didn't scare easily. Her face was deadpan and gave off boredom over fear.

"Where is your government lap dog?" The guy behind him asked. He stood off to the side by the door. Leon knew the two of them could take these men. He moved around the building until he found one of the warehouse doors cracked open.

Leon rolled beneath the door and slid behind a stack of massive crates. He peeked out from around the shadows.

While he had a decent view into the dim space, he couldn't see everything. He'd wait to see if there were others lurking in the dark.

The only light was an exposed bulb that hung in the center of the room. They'd tied Ada to a chair with her legs cuffed and hands tied behind her back. The man by the other door stood behind her with a good eye on her wrists. No funny business.

"Talk, bitch!" The man in front of her slashed at her and sliced off one strap of her dress, leaving a thin cut over her skin. Blood slowly began to slide down her clavicle.

Ada merely smiled. "You're wasting your time."

"Very funny."

"Am I laughing?" She said.

Leon had doubts when he'd met her again. Decided she was working for the ring leader. Decided she was his enemy. There was no way she was his ally.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ada said. And all his doubts drifted away. She could have sold him out. Could have let him deal with this alone. Hell, she'd finished her job but decided to stay anyway.

The man slashed again. This time, it left a light cut along her cheek. He spit profanities at her unflinching face.

Just tell them. Just tell them and get the hell out.

But Leon knew she wouldn't. He glanced up and found the catwalk above their heads. In the dim light, Leon made out a ladder.

The man continued his attempt at intimidation to no avail, as Leon made his way over the catwalk. The rain too loud for them to hear him.

When Leon stood just above them, the man took a hold of Ada's hair and pulled her head back roughly. The angle made her glance up, and their eyes meet. Recognition that he was there without showing her inevitable shock.

I got you this time, Ada.

She kicked out at the man. Leon launched himself down with a knife drawn to take out one of the men already running to restrain her.

Ada flipped from the chair with her bound limbs to give herself distance. Leon was quick enough to grab the man with her knife in his hand from behind and take him out. His eyes already the deep red of control, of infection.

Leon moved to quickly cut her loose. She called his name in alarm. A swarm of men circled them. They stood back-to-back beneath the swinging bulb.

"Perfect, it's a party now," he said and handed her a weapon. Their movements were fluid, practiced, comfortable with the way the other moved. How many years had they done this? Taken down an organization, stopped someone's master plan, fought together.

When they stood alone, out of breath, standing in the middle of carnage, Leon swayed on his battered legs. Ada's hands pressed against his chest to keep him upright.

"Ever the hero, Mr. Kennedy," she said. He clutched her arms. She was alive and talking. Relief swallowed him whole. "Are you alright?" she asked.

It could have been the wounds he'd sustained in his last encounter. Could have been the sudden relief. Whatever it was drove Leon to pull her close. He cursed softly with his cheek pressed against her hair.

Her small form softened slowly and she held him back. They stood there in silence, death lying at their feet, and the doubt he'd clung to for so long drifted far away.

It was Ada. It would always be Ada, and he hoped she knew it.

[kipperson]

Check in: Final part

Until he re-thought everything that just happened- and that fact that he called the guy ‘cute’. He stood there, touching the tie Thorn had fixed. “Damn you, Thorn” he cursed under his breath, no malice in his tone. He wiped his face, trying to rub off the stupid smile on his lips, but it wouldn't leave. Leon was surprised with himself, usually in situations like what had happened, he’d brush it off with some witty or snide remark- or even make a joke out of it. But for once, he couldn't think of anything to say. He sat back down at his desk, staring back down at his paperwork. He took a moment to gather himself and his thoughts before returning to writing and filling things out. Thinking about it all, he started to chuckle a bit. It was funny to him, he was so used to being used as a tool, a lap dog for the government. Yet Thorn wasn't taking advantage of his vulnerability- it was…oddly refreshing. Leon paused his writing and looked back at the door Thorn left from. ‘Uh uh. No. He was just being a good friend, don’t overthink it. You're 47- almost 50 damn years old. Crushing on people is not something I can do.’ he huffed and turned back to his paperwork, feeling oddly flustered. It wasn't a crush. Maybe this was his attachment issues? Yet…..15 years of knowing the guy…..10 of those being best friends…maybe there was something more. Maybe he missed out on something bigger here. ‘Focus Leon!’ He shook the thoughts away and went back to work. 

[sapphire-weapon]

ID Leon was the worst in terms of being brainwashed into a gov. lap dog

dude, ID Leon was...

I don't even fuckin know, man. And I don't think the writers knew, either. His character is all over the place in that series. He cycles through moods and motivations so fast it felt like someone just collected a bunch of notes/storyboards out of QuanticDream's dumpsters and slapped them together in a rush.

And it's so frustrating, because the very few times that ID is good and on point, it's really fucking good and on point. I will always, always, always hold up the scene of him and Jason talking about treason as being one of the best scenes in RE, period -- not only because the tension and pacing are on point (as well as it being super fucking hot when Leon shoots him in the heart), but because it's the only time we ever really get to see Leon At Work(TM). What he's saying in that scene isn't necessarily something that he, personally, believes -- but he's here to do his job, and he's going to fucking do it.

The CGI movies in general do this really interesting thing with Leon career-wise where they establish that Leon doesn't just sit around on-call waiting for an outbreak to happen; his primary job duty is to be a bounty hunter, essentially. He's basically the US government's own personal Yakuza sent out to do the real dirty work. I like that a lot, actually.

And so ID in particular is kind of interesting in the sense that, like. I wouldn't say that he's brainwashed per se, so much as I would say that his head is still in the game. He knows what's expected of him, and he's going to do it, whether he agrees with it or not. It was kind of a similar thing during Operation Javier and RE4 -- this was the job that he was sent in to do, so he's going to do it regardless of anything else.

It isn't until Damnation that he starts to become really cynical and jaded about the whole thing, and by the time of Death Island he's just like YES I'M GOING TO DO THE THING, I ALWAYS DO THE THING, GET OFF MY FUCKING BACK SO I CAN DO THE THING AND THEN IDK JERK OFF AND PASS OUT BECAUSE THIS IS MY LIFE NOW

I just wish that the entirety of ID was as high quality in this regard as that one scene was, because it probably would've been easier to map the trajectory of his character arc if it was.

[sincerelymina]

pretty baby

content: re6 leon x female reader. age gap. smoking. alcohol consumption. fake-dating? two pretentious people engaging in a conversation. leon saying "women." barely suggestive. reader is apart of leon's squad. honorable mention: claire redfield. author's note: mmmmmm re6 leon (i'm losing my mind). i posted this from my patio because the weather's finally getting better yay.

contrary to popular opinion, dreary, rainy nights were one of your most favorite things—amongst many other stuff you cherished—but you held nights like these dear to your heart. the soft pattering from rain droplets hitting against the window, a warm blanket, and comfortable pajamas, coupled with a cup of hot coffee and a book was, in your opinion, a perfect way to wind down after slaving away at work all day.

however…you just wished for one more thing.

a boyfriend. a man. someone to call your own. 

someone who'd let you rest your head on their lap as you flipped through the pages and took sporadic sips of whatever hot beverage you were drinking at the moment. someone who'd thread their fingers through your hair and press soft kisses on your forehead. your entire body yearned for such a thing, but it always felt so out of reach.

unfortunately, men didn't commit, or think, like that. they just took what they wanted like dogs and then headed out the door, not a single care in the world. it was pathetic and desperate. 

hook-up culture irked you. so did "talking stages," or anything of that caliber. why would any sane person waste their time and energy like that on someone they'd meet for no longer than a week? maybe you were just a hopeless romantic. 

maybe you were the pathetic and desperate one.

none of the men at your workplace interested you in the slightest—as they all had that mindset you loathed. you were a special government agent, trying to save the world from bioterrorism. all the male agents were arrogant, wanna-be jerks. they'd call themselves "esoteric" when really, their favorite movie directors were quentin tarantino and christopher nolan.

you just rolled your eyes and sighed. how deplorable.

there was one guy, however, but you deemed him out of the question. a forbidden fruit, in other words. for starters, he was a good ten years—maybe more—older than you. he also happened to be the leader of your assigned, specific, squad. and ironically enough, a mercenary had him twirling his dirty blonde hair and blushing like a schoolgirl. she was very gorgeous, in his defense.

leon kennedy was just so damn handsome, it had you acting a fool. you couldn't help but swoon when he called you "sweetheart" casually, as if it was second nature. he'd put his hands on your waist while walking past you, muttering a quick, "sorry, sweetheart." he had really good taste in films, music, and books too, surprisingly. he treated you like a real person, not a piece of meat like most men did.

he even made you laugh at his insanely stupid jokes.

you often wondered if you were in love with him, or if it was just a fleeting crush. or maybe you adored the attention he gave you (more than your other peers). but then again, was there really a difference between love and attention?

as you tucked your knees beneath yourself, sinking down further into the couch, your cellphone vibrated right next to you, the caller id reading leon—how fucking cliche. your heart then dropped, wondering why he'd call you at eight pm on a saturday. swallowing the lump in your throat, you answered quickly, "um, hello?" 

"hey sweetheart," leon's low, smooth voice said on the other end of the line. it sounded like he was driving. maybe to see me, you thought, before chastising yourself for being delusional. he couldn't fawn over you when ada wong existed. a beat later, he added, "i know this is a little out of the norm, but i was just wondering if you were free tomorrow."

free tomorrow? for what? was this seriously happening? you dumbfoundedly stammered, uttering something so laughable out, "i— uh— are you sure you have the right number?" your whole body recoiled with cringe the second those words rolled right off your tongue. you resisted the urge to groan in annoyance.

and laugh is exactly what leon did. it was short, almost a scoff. "nah. but it isn't what you think, don't worry," that little bit confused you, before he elaborated, "i'm not trying to be some creepy boss. long story short, i need a date for an event."

"a date..? what kind of event?" you queried, sitting yourself upright. your mind was still barely registering the fact that you were having this conversation with leon, quite literally moments after fantasizing about him.

he let out a soft exhale, "one of my old friends is hosting this get together, and lets just say i've been lying to her about having a girlfriend—" leon groaned at how juvenile he was sounding, shaking his head in disbelief. "i'm too old for this shit." he chastised, before getting back on track. "anyways, she's been on my ass about it, telling me i should find a girl, and that i'd be a lot happier, or something like that." 

debatable, he thought, given his experience with a certain woman in the past.

"so i lied to her, and said i was talking to this girl, so she's expecting you. you don't have to if you aren't up for it, but i won't let you go back home empty-handed if you do end up coming through."

pretending to be leon's girlfriend—even for a day—sounded like heaven on earth to you. 

without even giving the offer a second thought, you said a little too excitedly, "yes!—i mean, sure, why not." a poor attempt at playing it cool. "i haven't got anything planned tomorrow, so…"

leon chuckled lightly at your enthusiasm, finding it endearing. unbeknownst to you, the man did actually think about you outside of work, even if it swarmed him with guilt. you weren't a rookie, but still, it felt wrong. he was thirty-six, he shouldn't be giving a girl in her early-to-mid twenties second thoughts. he really did feel like a "creepy boss."

but he couldn't help himself. not when you were so unfathomably pretty. his lips parted at the way you'd smile up at him, nodding your head as you quickly scurried off and followed orders, or how you'd always offer to help him with filing mission reports—a very tedious task that no other agent on your team would ever volunteer to do. 

he also wasn't an idiot, and knew that you held him on some sort of pedestal, whether it be a crush, infatuation, or simply admiration. 

"alright, cool." leon affirmed, now pulling into his driveway, the asphalt crackling beneath the tires. he pulled the keys out of the ignition, and shoved them into his pocket, whilst staying on the phone with you. "i'll pick you up around six. we won't stay too long, leave around eight. okay?"

your mouth had went dry by this point, but you quickly agreed, "yeah, sounds good."

what the hell just happened? 

holding onto leon's arm, the two of you walked into his friend's—who you later found out was the claire redfield—house, and you couldn't help but marvel at the place. clearly, the woman made relatively well money, and it showed itself in flaming colors through her subtle decor. dressed in her classic red leather jacket, she greeted you and leon with a smile, "hey leon, and…the mystery girl he's been telling me about," the woman chuckled. she was so pretty.

you introduced yourself to claire, surprisingly not feeling nervous in the slightest, as you usually were when you meet people for the first time. it wasn't that you were shy, you were just reserved. but claire was sweet. some people take ages to warm up to, but she wasn't like that—instantly likable. 

"i honestly don't know how a girl as pretty as her is into you leon," claire teased, a knowing smirk on her maroon lips. leon just scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he was used to her tormenting. "drinks?" she asked, not waiting for you two to respond as she handed the two of you glasses of red wine.

you mumble a quick thank you, then raising the glass to your lip gloss coated lips, taking a sip before laughing, "maybe i'm just attracted to losers." which wasn't exactly a lie—you were in love with leon, or something like that. he just didn't know. yet…

"a loser?" an offended look crosses his perfect features, as he looks down at you in surprise. he just shook his head and sighed, "women." the comment earned a chuckle from both you and claire—laughing at leon's misery would always be funny. he could only purse his lips and keep his peace.

your eyes dart around the room, noticing a few familiar faces, others not. a couple of bsaa agents, sherry birkin—to name a few—and more. the next hour consisted of repeating your introduction to a few more of leon's friends that you didn't know, and leon sporadically leaving kisses on either the top of your head, or your arm, as any "boyfriend" would. he was doing an awfully good job of playing the part.

almost too good. if only you weren't so oblivious.

the atmosphere was becoming disgustingly stuffy, so you free yourself from leon's arm wrapped around your waist from behind, and told him, "hey, i'm gonna step out on the patio for a second." 

"wait, i'll go with you." and you didn't protest against it.

leon was fighting the guilt that was regurgitating to the surface, telling himself that he shouldn't pursue you in any way possible. he couldn't entertain whatever feelings you were harboring for him, not when he was the older, more experienced individual in this scenario. but he was weak. so inexplicably drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. 

the two of you slipped out to the patio, standing side-by-side as the cool breeze blew threw your hair, the skirt of your dress billowing in the wind. leon stared at you, lovelorn. you pulled a pack of parliaments and a fancy lighter out of your purse, flicking it and lighting your cigarette.

"i didn't know you smoked." leon said plainly. he himself didn't—never did, never will. it was a bit ironic how he was comfortable being an alcoholic, though.

you shrugged, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air, "eh. i'm not addicted, like you might be assuming. i just do it for shits and giggles, i don't know," another puff, another cloud of smoke.

"shits and giggles?" he mused, laughing lightly. "that's a juvenile way to put it."

his laugh alone pulled a smile onto your lips, as you couldn't fight the heat that spread across your cheeks like a wildfire. "i guess. but hey, everyone has their vices, don't judge." 

"hey, i'm not judging." leon raised his hands in surrender, a soft smile of his own forming. "you just didn't strike me as the type, that's all."

you just shook your head with a grin, looking away from leon bashfully, trying your hardest to ignore the fact that your heart was beating out of your chest. he was a horribly charming fake boyfriend. it didn't help that you were already pining for the man, even if you wanted to pretend like you could never have him. that was beyond your concerns in this moment. 

"what kind of girl do i strike you as?" you ask curiously, turning your head to meet him staring right at you. oh shit. you bit the corner of your cheek anxiously. whatever, i'm probably misreading things, you console yourself. no, he couldn't be. this wasn't some cheesy romcom. 

he feigned mulling over the question for a moment, before replying in a tone softer than silk. "well," leon got a little closer, just a teensy bit, and said, "you're a good girl. tooth-rottingly sweet, does her work before its due, volunteers when she doesn't have to, not to mention she graduated top of her class. you're also bit of a stickler, no offense," his sharp eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

"i am not—!" he gave you a knowing look, before you sighed, "i guess you're right. but whatever, you like jane austen novels," you fired back, "you, who enjoys bands like alice in chains and the foo fighters, reads authors like dostoevsky and nabokov—your favorite movie is the french connection for christ's sake! jane austen is very out of character, i'd say."

leon couldn't describe the swell of adoration he felt for you as you judged his tastes, going on a whole tangent; if he had no self-control, he'd kiss you without hesitation. but he played it cool, his eyes narrowing as he countered, "that's different." 

you remembered that stuff about him. his heart skipped a beat, making him feel like an anxious teenager.

"it's different? how's it different?" you retorted playfully, and the two of you went back and forth for the next five minutes over the most ineffably stupid conversation known to mankind. the whole scene was so awfully picturesque, straight out of a movie. 

"whatever you say, sweetheart," was what leon said sarcastically, ending the banter between the two of you, even if he was enjoying it beyond belief. it had been a damn long time since he'd felt something this warm inside of him. leon mentally chastised himself for being so self-indulgent—even if he really deserved it.

his pale blue eyes glance over at his watch, reading the time: 8:04 pm. leon then looked up at you, and asked, "you wanna head out soon?" 

you take a final puff from your lit cigarette, softly exhaling the smoke, before answering weakly, "hm? oh, uh, sure." 

that definitely put a damper in your mood, and leon took very well notice of it. after tonight, you wouldn't be leon's pretend girlfriend. you'd go back to being his subordinate, just someone who he worked with on the field, and maybe considered a friend. you really enjoyed spending time with more veteran agents tonight, more importantly, you enjoyed spending time with leon. 

this all only made your lovesick self worse. you felt slightly mad at him for playing his part so well.

"you okay?" leon asked, a concerned expression etched onto his features as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. his hand, typically so calloused from the rough years, felt so delicate. it was jarring, yet swoon-worthy. he was a little confused as to why you were so upset now.

you swallowed the heavy lump in yout throat, unsure of how to proceed, so you resort to simply mustering up a half-hearted smile, "yeah. just a little exhausted."

"exhausted?" he repeated incredulously. "just a minute ago you were spewing nonsense at me. tell me the truth, sweetheart." a genuine look was plastered on his face, one you couldn't argue against. but it wasn't like you could confess to leon just like that, with zero repercussions. no, that wouldn't work.

he teased slyly, in an attempt to lighten the mood and cheer you up, "was i too mean?"

"nah," you couldn't bring yourself to stifle your chuckle, "it's just…" your voice trailed off, not knowing how to proceed. "well…" leon lifts his hand from you shoulder, up to your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, allowing him to get a better look of your face. your lips part slightly in awe at his sweet gesture—you weren't by anyone now, you didn't have to pretend to be a couple. 

"c'mon, lay it on me."

you sucked in a deep breath, before swallowing your pride, and confessing, "leon, i— look, i know it's not allowed, and quite frankly, inappropriate, but…" 

and that was telling enough. he knew just what you were trying to tell him, and to save you from any further embarrassing stuttering, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing overs, your breath mingling with his.

"that's alright," leon cooed, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. "i'm flattered, really."

his mind was yelling, praying for him to stop and get ahold of himself, but his entire body was working on autopilot, fueling his desires. here this pretty girl was, handing herself to him on a silver platter—how in god's name could he refuse? he was just as eager for her, to feel her soft skin, kiss her sweet, full lips. his breath hitched as your hand lightly trailed up his arm. 

his lips then left a soft, gentle kiss against yours. you sighed contently, leaning in closer to his touch, deepening the kiss. leon's hands roamed a bit more freely, crawling up your sides, lingering on your hips. he pulled away for a moment, and mumbled, "you're so pretty baby," a light chuckle erupted from his throat, the sound alone making your heart flutter. "such a sweet girl." he left another kiss on your jaw, then on your neck, his light stubble prickling your skin.

a shaky breath slipped past your lips, escaping from the depths of your lungs. his words alone made your knees weak—this seemed so surreal, but nice. here leon was, a man you thought you'd never have, kissing you as if he really was your boyfriend. you lifted your hands, bringing them up to cup his cheeks, and smiled. 

"so…are you just getting free kisses out of me, or what?"

leon shook his head, "nah, no way." another quick kiss against your lips. "i'm taking you out for dinner next weekend. i won't take no for an answer." he stared at you intently, as he plunged right back in for another kiss—this man was starved. 

you reciprocated each and every kiss, letting out a soft moan as he slipped his tongue past your lips, fingers tangling into his dirty blonde hair. leon was at war with his mind, his body betraying his thoughts. he really shouldn't be doing this—entertaining the notion of a relationship between the two of you—but he couldn't bring himself to. he was only human, after all.

"fine by me," you replied, pulling away momentarily to catch your breath. "b-but what about the rules? wouldn't this get us both in trouble?"

"again with the stickler act." leon chuckled amusedly. "sweetheart, nobody has to know. this'll be our little thing. we can keep this under the wraps, can't we?—if it all works out, that is. believe it or not…i've had it bad for you too." he reassured you, the words coming out smoothly, as if he'd been planning this moment for ages. i've got it bad for you too. 

"if you say so," you conceded with a stupid smile, leaning in to kiss him again. leon pushed away any regretful thoughts, not allowing them to consume a good moment—they were as rare as they come with him.

you both really were a bunch of self-indulgent, pretentious losers.