#honestly I have never cared much about that person

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar

[discontinued, feel free to add on]

It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.

Just plain weird.

It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".

Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.

Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.

Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.

(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)

Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.

He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.

Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.

It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.

Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.

On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.

Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?

Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.

Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.

And there was the next weird thing.

No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.

The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.

The fuck?

So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.

Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.

Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.

Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.

Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".

The color might be just a coincidence.

...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.

So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.

He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.

He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.

...

Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.

[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[uriekukistan]

thoughts on jjk 270, unfiltered for your reading pleasure

honestly the whole chapter feels like a disservice to megumi. i know i say that all the time, and maybe i'm just too jaded, maybe i'm wearing favorite character goggles idk, but as a whole i think this chapter was just. not good so if i wanna talk about it with regards to the Favorite Character, i will

my first thought seeing megumi at tsumiki's grave was that gege was gonna finally give a proper moment where he could grieve and reach some kind of closure, maybe get some of the overdue development he's earned. like to me there's nothing better than when the emotionally reserved character breaks down, and this would have been the perfect moment. i feel like so much of megumi's character has been built around his relationship to tsumiki, and the past 60 chapters-ish have been building up to this moment where megumi can properly grieve and maybe express some kind of remorse to tsumiki for being a bit of a brat when he was younger, but he never gets that. instead, we get this really stale and emotionless ending for their relationship, and for megumi's character as a whole. like idk, this whole time he's wanted to be able to apologize to tsumiki and make it up to her after everything she did for him, and he never even gets a moment to mourn. i hate that for him.

next. why am i getting more emotionally satisfying endings for side characters that i literally dgaf abt than for main characters like megumi, yuuta, gojo (i'll stand by the fact that i think he should have died, but like show people mourning him damn), nobara, YUUJI?????? idk like wtf is going on here. to me there is no reason to get a more satisfying ending for that middle school friend of yuuji's who was relevant for like two pages before i get a satisfying end for the literal deuteragonist of the story

then there's the whole thing w hana. i'm not even saything this from a shipping standpoint, but it's frustrating to me that megumi gets to reach some kind of peace w hana and have a good conversation with her before he talks to itadori, the person who's been by his side this whole time, the person who appreciates him for who he is and not their idealized version of him, the person who he decided to live for, the person who arguably means the most in his life right now. he doesn't get to exchange a serious heart to heart with him, but he gets to have a shallow surface level interaction with hana? idk i just feel like it reduces his character to something very superficial and i hate to see it.

and maybe i'm just dumb but i don't get like. any of these new plot points that have been introduced, but honestly, i don't care to understand. it seems like gege is in fact trying to set up a second part to jjk and im just so annoyed by that, because we get this rushed ending where nothing reaches proper fruition so he can introduce these new plots? like idk, somehow that pisses me off more than if he just fumbled the ending, but i hold that thought until we know for sure that he's making a second part.

this was supposed to be more general, but i got carried away w my thoughts abt how bad megumi's ending was fumbled. anyway. yeah canon doesn't exist to me past 268 :D

[factual-fantasy]

27 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🔮

Oooo very cool! I hope you have fun with it!! :DDD And as for how I make a story it kind'a depends-

For Grimace, Sylvester and the rest of the gang.. well that was just my Violet team. I gave them personalities that I thought would suit them and just.. went from there I guess? <:D

For Conkeldurr, Zuora, Emboar and the 4 piglets.. well, it started with just thinking about Conkeldurr and how much I like that Pokémon. I pictured him as a Gentle giant and imagined how fun it would be to draw him with some other tiny Pokémon that he adopted. I went through the Unovan pokédex and picked a Zuora because she was small and fluffy <XD

After making a post about them I wanted to give Conkeldurr a friend. Well I like the Emboar line so hey why not do that? She can be a mama Emboar to switch it up and she can have 4 kids. Why not? Since I didn't draw her in that first post, I made the story they they went their separate ways for a time but now they're back together.

I honestly don't have solid concrete advice I can offer- I just think "hey this would be neat" and slap it on there. Or I think "hey this scenario would be fun to draw" and so I structure the events and story to make the characters run into this scenario in a reasonable way. That's really all I do.. <:D

@beryl-shade

I've seen Markiplier play it :0 Its.. well its something! <:D

(Referencing this post)

<XD I never understood why they made him Spanish, the sudden guitar noise is always a jumps care XDDD

@shiny-is-miney

Humans do not exist in any of my Octonauts AUs, nor have they ever <:/

@catain-skyler1987

I do not <:/ sorry!

@nwo-metalscottic

Daww,, thank you 🥹🥹🥹its been rough these past.. how ever many months- my health is still poor and I still am glued to my bed/the couch 24/7.. but I'm hoping to finally see some improvement soon.. and I hope you feel better too! <:))

Any who, I'm glad to hear your views on Conkeldurr! :D Some people can be kind'a harsh :x As for the Tepigs, I can see them sticking around even after evolving into Pignites. They love their mama and would have no desire to leave her.. 🥺

As for what threatens them.. when they were apart, I kind'a image any meat eating Pokémon that thinks they could take them in a fight would be a threat. Or perhaps territorial Pokémon or protective parents that would see a big Pokémon coming near and just attack on instinct.

Now that the two of them are together, they have a lot less trouble with random Pokémon. They're a much bigger challenge to take on as a team. Plus I can see Zuora walking with them disguised as a second Emboar or Conkeldurr. Creating a group that looks like three macho parents that will fiercely protect their piglets.

As for the Minecraft movie, here's the thing about the Piglins. In the actual game they turn into Zombie Piglins the moment they leave the Nether. Why are they still normal Piglins despite running through a village??

And a Netflix show... uhg.. I'm just not interested. I feel like Minecraft looses all its charm when you convert it into a show or movie. And especially if you mess up Steve as badly as they did. Jack Black.. that's the worst casting I can think of.🤦

This is so cool! It feels like it could be canon to the Pokémon universe! :DD

Also thank you so much!! :)))

I have! :0 I watched 8-bitryan play some of it! :) ALSO THANK YOU!! :DDD

@cicutagreninja

WOW!! :00 THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I plan to return to it someday!! :)))

@astaherussy (Referencing this post)

I think I put that on almost out of habit <XD when I picture old abandoned houses I imagine notes stuck to the door warning of debts and bills that need to be paid lest the owners get evicted. So I drew that because it felt fitting!

..Only just now did I realize that the old owners were supposed to be a mystery.. if there was any at all. So having that note on the door doesn't really make sense.. 😅

ALSO WAAHG THANK YOU!! :DDD

I've seen the FNAF movie and I've seen multiple Youtubers play all the FNAF games. Though I haven't played through any of them myself. :00

As for what I thought of them.. I have a place in my heart for all the games. From the lore jumbling ruin DLC, to the classic first game, I'm a total sucker and I love them all.💞💞

The movie wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. I adored the inclusion of MatPat and the intended inclusion of Markiplier. There were some aspects I didn't like and a lot of missed opportunities in my opinion. And of course the lore is all outa whack..

None the less, I think the movie is charming. And my love for FNAF has only strengthened upon the movies release :))

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Since Metagross isn't in Black/White (Its in Black/White 2) I wont be looking into that species for a bit.. and I wont be looking at Mega evolutions-

As for a Quantum slime equivalent, I have no intentions to make equivalents for all the slimes- I didn't add trubbish to be an equivalent to pinks. I just noted that Trubbish are a common slime that can eat anything, just like pinks are :0

The slimes and foods I add will be their own thing. Not intending to replicate or replace any of the canon slimes or fruits/veggies/meats from slime rancher. If that makes sense-

@petrichormeraki

I don't really have any proper name ideas for them 😅 I've just been calling them the shiny one, the normal one, the runt and the big one. XDD

Also thank you!! :DDD

Oooo that's really interesting actually! :000 That would have been a much more tame version of my Zuoras story <XDDD

@pigeonsplural

SLAKJDJ THANK YOUUU!! :)))0

*plotting noises......

(Referencing this post)

This ask will be very relevant soon.. 😈 Also thank you! :)))

@roughsketch2010

WAHGG THANK YIU SOMUCH!! :DDD

@kermit-ydafrog

Daww 🥹 Thank you! MY question is why are you so kind?? :DDD

I've heard of it and seen a lot of fanart, but i never got into it myself😅

Thank you for remembering my boundaries and respecting them! <:) And yeah that paints a pretty vivid picture in my head XDDD

@holly-opal

He would have been a better voice for Bowser then Jack Black in my opinion..

@fandomcenteral

WAAHHG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD And its still a surprise to me that I'm considered a celebrity :00 I hope people aren't intimidated to send me asks because of that.. <:D

@muncho1234 (eye post in question)

Peso, Dashi, Tunip and Ranger Marsh have no eye bags because they have decent sleeping schedules and diets. :0 The rest of the characters either have poor sleeping schedules, deal with a lot of stress, or are very hard workers and burn up all their energy throughout the day.. :(

Oh boy 💀

@minnesotamedic186 (Eye studies post) (Kwazii and Calico Jack hug post) (Ranger Marsh jump scare post)

WAAHGG THANK YOU!!! :DD I ALWATS LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE NOTICE THE DETAILS I PUT IN!! :))))

@caronaro-flipaclip

<XD While I agree with this, I cant help but get red in the face when people like/reblog my old artwork.😅😅 And there's nothing wrong with that! It just shows how far I've come! :)

[halfthebrain]

I don’t get this hate for Mike while he was an investment banker and fighting Harvey lmao. It was frankly really good TV.

TLDR: The stakes were much higher for Mike and he utilised every trick Harvey has taught him. He’s not the only one to blame just because some viewers can’t understand his motives. Harvey knew though and he forgave Mike, took him back, and even regretted fighting Mike in the first place.

First: obviously Mike would be more invested (pun intended) in winning than Harvey is. It was his first big case and his livelihood was on the line. In case anyone forgot, he never went to uni, he doesn’t have any degree. So this was his chance to get out of committing a felony every day. Sure, he still lied to Sidwell about his credentials but that’s still a lesser crime than pretending to be a lawyer. He left so he wouldn’t put the people he loved at risk.

For Harvey it was just another run of the mill client, a spoiled, entitled rich man child. Was there a lot of money on the table? Obviously. But those are the waters he swims in daily. Billion dollar deals as he said himself. Case in point: he also just drops Logan afterwards. Money be damned.

And Harvey knows this himself. He loves winning, yes, but he loves Mike more.

I actually blame Harvey for being a stubborn asshole and not going with Mike’s plan from the get go, not trusting Mike’s idea and plan, even tho he has consistently profited from them. But, again, this is TV drama so obviously they needed a reason to start a fight.

Second: have we not been watching the same show? It has always been personal to Mike. That’s his whole schtick. He cares. About absolutely, probably everything. He cares about why Walter Gillis started the company (because of his son). He cares about keeping that reason alive. He cares about keeping the workers employed. He empathises deeply, he tries to fight for what he thinks is the right thing. Does that make him a stuck up idealist at times? Yes, but that’s unavoidable. It was never just about winning for Mike, for Harvey it was. If you’re going to hate him for that then at least be a hater from the start.

He was still trying to keep Gillis Industries alive even though Harvey has smeared his name (personal attack) and Walter Gillis has shunned him because of that.

Third: it was all “fair game” despite whatever drama Donna procured in her head about the tapes to insert herself in Mike and Harvey’s fight. She can huff anf puff all she wants but the only person who has a reason to be pissed at Mike would be Harvey. And guess what? He forgave Mike anyway because he realises that Mike did a great job going for the jugular just as Harvey has taught him. He even defended Mike in front of Sidwell, asking him to take Mike back. They didn’t even go toe to toe. Harvey was backed by his entire firm (he’s a name partner), he even let Louis help (he fucked it up), Donna as usual, and lastly, Rachel who was “handling” Logan. Meanwhile Mike was fighting alone. Jonathan Sidwell only pressured him to win, Walter Gillis gave up on him and Amy could only help so much.

Just because Mike is on the other side now using the same methods Harvey taught him doesn’t mean that he’s the “bad guy”. Like I have said many times; they’re both the worst and deserve each other.

Bonus: while all of that was going on Rachel also thought it would be a wonderful idea to keep going back to Logan’s place and then to almost fuck him :).

Are you really, honestly hating on Mike right now?

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hihi slug, I love your work, and thanks for everything!! Since Matenro season is nearly upon us, I was wondering if we could get your opinion on the solo snippets🤞🤞

Matenro's new solo previews are SO GOOD, what do you think of them?

Thank you both for notifying me about them! Taking a look now...

(The album is probably already out now, but... better late than never...)

Jakurai's A Majestic Figure

Title note: 4-kanji compounds are like the SAT vocab words of Japanese; they're not super common in everyday speech and can evoke a literary or sophisticated feeling. This one is...interesting. To the best of my knowledge, it isn't a standard compound (I'm also not getting any hits when I Google it) and I wonder if that's significant. It's just two words strung together to make the appearance of fanciness, perhaps. I couldn't say for certain. At any rate, both 威風 and (especially) 颯爽 describe a majestic, often captivating appearance. This isn't to say that such qualities of dignity or majesty aren't real, but I definitely feel like both terms are defining a subject from an outside perspective. These aren't terms I would ever expect someone to describe themselves with, which makes the song title sound like it's an outside observer commenting on Jakurai instead of Jakurai talking about himself. We see this happen a lot in Hypmic, with people putting Jakurai on pedestals or Jakurai struggling to see himself as the same grand figure others perceive him as. As a result, I wrote the song title as "A Majestic Figure" to emphasize the appearance of majesty, whereas the character of the figure is unknown. Anyway, let's dive in and see what this is all about.

(10 seconds in) Vibing with these instrumentals

(19 seconds in) Not vibing with these "ah"s... but we can't have everything in life

(43 seconds in) I'm a little too tired to fully keep up (I'll look up the lyrics when I'm done) but I REALLY like the urgency in the delivery, which is so at odds with the flowing, dignified background music. In JPN fiction as a whole, flusteredness/desperation is contrasted with calmness as a synonym for imperfection and perfection. Jakurai is, honestly, really kind of a desperate character...yet one that appears outwardly calm/perfect to most of the rest of the cast, so it's interesting that we get to see his desperate nature on full display right at the start of the song.

(1:26 in) Hand motif mentioned *Cinemasins ding* (of

(End) Thank you uta-net for having the lyrics up already; ily. Let's see now... Interesting. I'll have to read them again in more depth later, but it looks like a call to forgive past wounds and seek out a better, less painful way of existence--in a societal sense, a religious (as in like, ascending or becoming enlightened) sense, and a personal sense. All great things to see Jakurai expressing. Again, it's interesting to see Jakurai expressing this with such urgency, even if these are things we know he really, really cares about. That coupled with the background music seems to match a bit in the lyrics that says "And [to end war within society, paraphrased] I take grand, dignified action mixed with the discord and noise of Shinjuku, a samsara spiral of cacophonous echoes." Mixing the stately and the chaotic, the "imperfect" and the "perfect." Really interesting stuff!

Hifumi's The Beginning of the Last Song

Title note: "Last Song" is English and written in katakana, which is a sharp contrast to the style of Jakurai's title. Creates a much younger and casual feel appropriate for Hifumi. Not much else to say here, so let's jump in.

(10 seconds in) Modern indie pop song on the radio feel. I'm not a fan of autotune in general so I'm not in love with this, but I'm hopeful it'll pick up soon.

(22 seconds in) I listen to so much "soft hiphop" (for lack of a better term) during work that my brain instantly catapulted itself into work mode and stopped paying any attention to the words. Coffee mug? Check. Emails? Check. Anxiety? Check. Let me rewind and listen to this properly.

(32 seconds in but for real this time) So far, very Hifumi. Opening verse has some fun figurative language but essentially says Hifumi's suit is pure courage he dons like a suit of armor. In doing so, it masks him and makes him become like a whole other person. From there, he switches to addressing a listener: "I want to soothe your mental wounds. I want to change your frown into a smile. I won't let go of your hands, and no, I'm not doing this for a reward." It's something that Hifumi should be saying to himself (something Hifumi wants to hear, maybe?) and yet he says "To [Host!]me, this is happiness."

(59 seconds in) Hmm... I was going to say this song feels sad to me, because all these positive messages of "Keep going! You're safe now!" are framed as being directed at other people, and I was like..."Hifumi, who's going to say that to you? Who's going to help you feel that way?" but then the line "You made me realize I'm not alone" radically flips the framing so that it DOES become things Hifumi is saying to himself, too. How nice. :) I would not want to translate this, personally... Haha it's using the vagueness of Japanese grammar and lyrical conventions to great effect, but I don't feel comfortable touching that personally.

(1:02) Hell yeah, belt that shit, homie

(1:32) So it's a last song in the sense that it's a farewell or the final song of his old self. Now he's the new, healing Hifumi. We love to see it 10/10 bravo. The song is also a happy, heartfelt thank you to the unspoken listeners (presumably Matenrou) who helped him feel less alone. That's cute! I like it. I probably shouldn't go here, but I find it intriguing how the vagueness of listeners is utilized. The first time the listeners are addressed, the language is...if not borderline romantic, pathos-filled to the point where it's definitely evocative of his host job (hence why he's not seeking compensation for handholding, an often romantic gesture). Yet it's borderline enough that it wouldn't be inappropriate to imagine it being addressed to Matenrou instead of his patrons. Hahaha. Again, another reason I don't want to go near this one.

(Overall) I like it! A nice ballad for Hifumi.

Doppo's Andante

(5 seconds in) For a song called Andante, this has a faster tempo than at least one other song on this album lol. But it's much less frenetic than Doppo's other solos, so there's that, I guess.

(7 seconds in) This delivery is giving me anime ending made by a 2010s rock band vibes lol.

(14 seconds in) Damn there's a baller line here that I'm stumped on how to convey in Eng in a way that's both baller and sensical. Meaning wise, it's like "I want to take back the things I shouldn't have said and give them as a present to you" and in figurative language it's like "Once, I used to fire words into the air [speak things in anger or carelessly]. Now, I want to gather them up [esp. like a bouquet of flowers] after their flight and use them to decorate you [again, like flowers or like a piece of jewelry--it's a positive connotation]" Pop off, Doppo

(40 seconds in) Oh this is killer and also going to need some major explaining. Doppo's name is literally "he who walks alone" which is usually considered a positive thing--someone who "walks the path of life" alone would have gotten there by outstripping the rest of the pack. In Doppo's case, though, this is a negative thing. I think it's not as obvious to Eng-only fans, and I know I didn't really think about it for a long time myself, but Doppo considers himself a "loser" bc he didn't follow a conventional life path. It's considered atypical to switch employers, especially very early on in one's career, as he did when he stood up for Hifumi and got himself fired at his first job. Part of why he puts up with shitty treatment at EL Medical is because it's one of the few places that would hire someone who switched employers at such a young age. (Sidebar: My (probably flawed, as I don't live in Japan) impression is that this is becoming less and less of a thing as time goes on and the economy goes to shit, but I think it's the self-stigma more than anything else that's affecting Doppo. To me, it feel similar to the societal pressures in the US to attend and graduate from a four-year college. Plenty of people don't for all sorts of reasons, but because that's so ingrained as the default life story for Americans in a lot of communities, Doppo's dealing with the kind of disappointment and self-hatred someone who dropped out before getting a four year degree might feel.) Doppo beats himself up about that a lot, but here we get that lovely line of "In the waves of people (hitonami) passing all around me, I no longer see anyone who looks like me. It's a shame, because I always wanted to be just like everyone else (hitonami)." Outside of that beautiful wordplay on hitonami, we're also treated to the figurative language of hitonami being literally "in line with others." Doppo, a character who walks through life alone, wanted to walk through life at the same pace/reaching the same milestones at the same time as everyone else.

(1:04 in) "Life is a tightrope act; it's like walking a balance beam [lit. "average beam" aka a beam where everything is averaged/balanced]. In a country where not everything can be average (narasarenai) and where even if the things that [I] can accomplish (narasareru) don't matter [in the eyes of society], sometimes the sounds I want to make don't come out right (narasarenai). When that happens, I can call myself pitiful--or I can feel the breathing of the beautiful flowerbed that is this city, and when someone's humming under their breath disturbs that short break [lit. breath], I ask them 'So, what is this happiness thing anyway?'" I would rather die than TL this song but I'm LOVING the creativity and depth of the lyrics.

(1:27) WILD! FUCKING! CHEERING!!! "You fake smiles in a mirror to make other people happy and call it love. It's a form of hypnosis, and I've made a go of falling under its spell because I just want to be equals [on par with, balanced], and so if you and I can walk these crowded streets together, then I think I don't mind as much that I'm always walking alone." THE GROWTH! THE GROWTH!!!!

Damn, this album's lyrics go hard. What a feast.

[door-insurance]

So I played Life is Strange 2 for the first time ever

I didn’t wanna play it for a long time not cause it didn’t have Chloe or max (tbh I got sick of their asses around BtS they’re not even my faves)

By that point I was in college and had lost interest in the whole franchise but also I was very apprehensive of white creatives writing racism with no input from the group they’re portraying, they don’t usually do a good job

Sometimes they make it cartoony, sometimes they trivialize it, sometimes they romanticize it

So years later adulthood kicked my ass and I came back crawling to this franchise for some comfort, I finished True colors annnnd I finally started 2 after hesitating annnnd

^sketched this while playing

SPOILERS

I actually liked it

I liked Sean, the drawing segment he does- he was such a likable main guy, deserved better honestly.

I also liked Daniel, he was very adorable and I never got it when people called him annoying like no shit the 9 year old is gonna act like a 9 year old- just don’t be a jerk to him, I know he can be frustrating but that’s what taking care of a kid is like

And lis had always been about realistic complex characters, y’all can’t handle a traumatized nine year?

I have two younger siblings and two nieces plus I’ve been a bratty younger sibling to two older sisters

Maybe I’m just used to it?? But honestly Daniel wasn’t that bad

The racism portrayal in the first few episodes was not all that cartoony and it actually felt real at times, like I can check for American news rn and find stories similar to what you see in episodes 1-3 (minus the telekinesis)

Although the gas station racist hick spouting trump slogans was a bit on the nose, it’s more of dialogue thing

Some people thought the gas station detainment was egregious but it can happen unfortunately, especially to vulnerable people in rural areas and by someone of a higher systematic advantage

One other thing I did not like was the love interests, I thought Finn and Cassidy were alright characters on their own but why do we need romance in this game where the protagonists are always on the run?

I don’t like to compare lis 1 to 2 but when it comes to the romance the former did a better job as it spent more time establishing it, plus max stayed in the same place for the majority of the game- but you know what? Sean doesn’t have to be in a relationship right? It can be a one off thing, that’s fine

Which brings me to my next point

How old are Cassidy and Finn?

Cause Sean is still 16 and no, being on the road didn’t mentally age him- he’s not “mature” for his age

He is still a kid

So for some reason Dontnod never really specified their ages but some articles described them as teens (they look 30 to me) and they can be around 18 right? Their lives are hard stress ages you- it happens, we can with live that, it’s just a two years difference

But teens or not

why did they animate a whole knocking the boots scene???

Of all the games in the series, the only one that gets a sex scene is the one with the much younger protagonist and his ambiguously aged older looking love interest and I think it’s only with Cassidy you get to do it in the tent

Alex Chen was robbed of a on screen booty call from a beanie wearing lesbian with a sexy radio voice or a buff ass Adonis of a man who was Smokey the bear’s regional manager or something

Anyways I’m gonna move on I’m uncomfortable lmao

*im not hating on people who ship Sean with either Finn or Cassidy, I’m not even tagging your ship names- im just stating my personal preferences on my blog

One last thing I did not like about LiS 2 and it was the one thing that kept me from playing it for years

That one scene from episode 4

So at this point Sean Diaz went through the following:

-lost his father, had to abandoned his loved ones, education and home

-was accused of killing a cop

-had to take care of his little brother on his own while on the run, the same brother with telekinesis and none of them know how to control it

-was harassed, beaten then detained by a racist white man

-had to take refuge in an abandoned cabin with little resources

-the dog that they adopted at the gas station eventually gets mauled

-the one time they found solace at their grandparents house they had to leave abruptly cause the police was hot on their trail

-on their way out they can potentially witness the neighbors kid that they befriended get hit by the police car that’s chasing them

-they find shelter at a nomad campground but oh no they get involved with drug trafficking cause they barely have any other options to make money (unfortunately this happens a lot IRL this isnt egregious)

-Sean now has to deal with the trafficking, making sure that Daniel doesn’t get into any trouble with his powers while fake ass giancarlo esposito is breathing down his neck

-and guess what happens next… Daniel gets robbed into pulling a heist on temu gus fring and it goes badly, Sean can potentially lose a love interest/friend in Finn

-Sean gets hurt, Daniel goes so mad that he blows the whole place up; a shard glass flies into Sean’s eye and he ends up losing it

- Sean wakes up from a coma and learns that his brother is missing and he’s about to be taken to jail

- the one thing that consistently brought him joy during this trip was his art and because of the missing eye he can’t even do it the same anymore cause it hurts now

- Sean has to escape the hospital with a hot wired car, little money and has to drive across two states just to get to his brother

-on the way he dreams of his father, he wants him back he wants his old life back but that’s not gonna happen so he has to move forward

Im not listing all this as examples of bad story telling, a lot of these are real life experiences of homeless people. im just painting a picture of the shit that Sean had went through so far

Cause right after the dream sequence, Dontnod didn’t think all that was enough no you had to see Sean get hate crimed by two lifetime movie, sitcom special of the week racists- be made to either sing or suffer a brutal beating

It added nothing to the plot, it didn’t need a choice system either- it’s a hate crime, you’re not asking Joyce for fucking pancakes or eggs n bacon at the whales diner or hosing down Lisa the fckin plant.

This to me went straight to trauma p*rn category, it’s wheelchair Chloe all over again

I hated it then in LiS 1 and I hated now in LiS 2, this is why I don’t dick ride Dontnod that often

They always had this tendency right before the end they single out a particular character and mentally whip them, they become the writing teams punching bag- they think we didn’t get it the first time that this character is going through it, they just hammer it in with the subtlety of a heart attack and I hate it

“Yeah but it’s there to show Sean’s resolve to find Daniel-“

HE ESCAPED FROM THE HOSPITAL AND THE FEDS, HE HOT WIRED A CAR TO DRIVE ACROSS TWO STATES

He’s starving, dehydrated, suffering from chronic pain

That’s enough

Let the character breathe

You ask why not a lot of people wanna play this game and I’m gonna tell you, as much I enjoyed it myself it’s not an easy game to play- it gets brutal, especially right around the end

I’m not against bleakness or extreme conflict, I’m into that but sometimes that doesn’t translate well to any gaming format- especially a choices matter game that’s meant to be replayed

Some people have asinine reasons not to play LiS 2 like it dealing with racism and those people suck, lis had always dealt with progressive themes like calling out objectification, cyberbullying and sl*tshaming

Racism shouldn’t be the exemption

but misuse of racial trauma and not knowing when it’s appropriate to invoke it is a huge turn off and hella triggering to a lot of non white players and I remember when LiS 2 dropped I’ve seen (mostly white) lis fans at the time proclaiming that not wanting to play it meant that you were racist

Like I said there were probably racists who didn’t wanna touch the games cause of the main characters skin but there were people like me who were apprehensive of the “Let’s go to the mosh pit Shaka brah” people handling racism

This is the same studio that had Ms Grant (one of the few black characters from LiS 1) claim that the white settlers peacefully shared the stolen land with the native Americans

I find that shit harder to believe than the time traveling powers

And they were doing alright in the first episodes they covered stuff like unconscious biases slipping through, dog whistles, polite racism from the grandparents segment, police brutality, racial profiling and being targeted/othered- some of these things I went through when I visited western countries

Then they did the bullshit I feared theyd do…

I really don’t blame myself for being hyper vigilant at the time and honestly I was going through a lot then, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t have touched LiS 2 cause it’s a very heavy tasking game to play

I know I kinda made it seem like I didn’t like this game but I did, its the best one in terms of the choice system

It had more weight to it, seeing Daniel internalizing what you say to him or how you act around him was so cool

Also what the second game has over the first one aside from the choices system is the ending selection- I never liked picking the endings for max, I wanted her to pick the ending or her coding/script to do that

Its definitely more fleshed out technically even though LiS 1 has a special place in my heart it’s always gonna be no. 1- but im also glad that I got to experience the 2nd game for the first time, I liked it

Personal lis ranking

1: Lis 1

2: Lis 2

3: True colors

Discount bin: BtS

My personal fave moments from LiS 2:

- beating up the racist bully and giving him a concussion

-mushroom (rip icon)

- victorias letter

-winning that that bear from that claw machine

-gorillaz song that was not feel good inc

-Brody pointing at a fucked up looking arcadia bay yelling “that’s the past!”- that was hilarious

-Sean paying tribute to Arcadia bay in his sketchbook (this fucking kid man, he’s so sweet he deserves the world- what did he do to make DONTNOD mad at him)

- the wolf animation and the story that plays before every chapter

-this was the worst hate crime in the whole game

[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or something even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out.And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watches, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Cleve gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…?”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because  at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you two doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head his nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought it was some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on between you two.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel okay, he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s okay with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

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

[kentuckyfriedmegumi]

my thoughts on chapter 270 and why it feels like a slap in the face to megumi's character

overall, i didn't HATE the chapter but there are so many elements in it that really had me jaded. i'm gonna yap and i can't guarantee that this will be a short post.

i've been saying ever since the series ending announcement came out that i would like to see a good, emotionally-driven conversation with the trio; specifically, between yuji and megumi. not because of itafushi or whatever, but because this final arc has been leading up to megumi's return and him and yuji being reunited. we get 266 and 268 and both of those are good for there relationship, but we should have gotten MORE.

opening up at tsumiki's grave was such a good opening for megumi. i've BEEN saying that his character deserves a good conclusion and a lot of people think that that's what 266 and 268 were, but i think that there should have been one more, final meg-centric focus for his story to really feel like it's ending. unfortunately, tsumiki's funeral is like one page and we immediately jump to CG side characters that i (frankly) do not care for.

we return to our trio characters with the megumi and hana scene which….. personal opinions and thoughts aside, i thought was fine???? like it just felt so out of place and like really a meghana joke… of all things?? i was never a fan of hana's character, which is sad bc i hesitate to say that she IS a character with the way that gege has written her to be a plot device. like what are her motivations? her ideas? her goals?? they are all megumi-centric and it just falls so flat. she likes the IDEA of megumi and she doesn't actually KNOW him, nor does she understand his life, his struggles, his beliefs, or his pain.

it's this very reason why i am SO GLAD that megumi rejects her and i am HOPING that gege doesn't shoehorn in a meghana or a itazawa relationship. not only does it feel cheap, but they don't actually KNOW each other. they've barely interacted, both girls just like yuji and megumi on a superficial level. if there was more time to develop them, have them together and interact, then i would be much less opposed, but at this point having them get together would just be throwing in a relationship for the sake of throwing in a relationship.

on a personal level though, i wrote a separate post on megumi's and yuji's parallels and i fully believe for that reason that they ARE soulmates, whether or not it's romantic, and they deserve a romantic interest that understands them on that kind of level.

anyway, back to it. the rest of the chapter is more setup for what's to come. it feels like there may be a jjk 2, or a spin off, or like an epilogue short series to come after the series ends. honestly, i'm not sure how i feel about that, and i will hold off until the last chapter before i state my final peace.

but overall, i think that this all could have been done sooner, i think that this chapter could have been 269, and i think that the characters should have been the focuse. the MAIN characters, not the random CG side cast that we haven't seen in like a year. this chapter was fine, just fine. was it bad? no. was it good? absolutely not. if i had to rate it, i would say it's like a 4… maybe a 5 out of 10. i think that this all COULD have been great, but with the time that we have left and with the way that series is going, i'm hesitant to say that this will be a good ending.

i really, really do not want any canon relationships in here for the sake of giving our main cast a love interest. please, gege, if you're going to do it, make it fucking meaningful.

yap over.

[box-dwelling]

My Dumb sexuality head canons for bg3. Ignoring the player sexualness

Wyll: beloved bi king. I am pretty sure he even has a line about it

Lae'zel: OK this is complicated because like, I genuinely think being a gith in the material realm means that she is just not comprehending the gender of the people around her in the question of attractiveness. It's the classic monster fucker thing where you stop caring about gender. And sex within gith culture is complicated anyway due to how they reproduce so she's probably omnisexual.

Shadowheart: She's definitely sapphic. There is nothing heterosexual about her and laezel and honestly her and Nocturne too. As for if she's into men. I'm not sure but I want to say no just because I know she's the go to romanced companion by straight men

Karlach: Listen Karlach X Wyll shippers. I see you. I understand you. I love you. You're so valid. Its not my ship but i do get the vision. I cannot see that woman ever dating a man. If it's any consolation I do think Wyll has a weird relationship with gender so, that could probably still work out.

Gale: He's definitely into women. I honestly switch on if I think he's into men or not. This will probably be subject to change after I do a romance run with him

Halsin: Pan and poly. 100% and I love him so much for it

Jaheira: OK ok OK. Hear me out. Aspec. Khalid and her had like a genuinely great relationship even though her feelings towards it were probably more platonic than she was willing to acknowledge but after he died she had no interest in ever having anything again because she could kinda check it off her mental list of things she is supposed to experience.

Minsc: I swear it is not intentional that I'm saying this for the non romancable compaions but I also think ace. I think he like thinks he's straight. He will sleep with women because he socially thinks that's what hes ment to do but his heart is never in it and boo is desperately trying to explain to him that he can just not do that if he doesn't want to.

Astarion: left for last because I think this is my biggest hot take. You cannot convince me he is into women at all. That is a gay man. Basically, every line that I'm aware of where he talks about romantic or sexual desire is with men. Like it's Astarion so his relationship with sex is complicated and you can maybe convince me of homoromantic bisexual though i personally think he doesnt consider his own desires at all during sex at least at the beginning of the game, so he doesn't mind sleeping with women because sex is just the thing he thinks he has to be doing but beyond that I cannot see it.

[nqueso-emergency]

It took me a while to get the courage to type you a message. (This is a nice one! I promise!) I know certain people have not taken kindly to you or the things you share, but I really wanted to personally message you to say "Thank you" for being our beacon in this fog that is the other side of the fandom.

I've watched 9-1-1 since having my daughter in 2022, and it got me through some really tough times with post partum. I just recently joined the fandom, and part of me wishes I didn't. I've met some real sweet BuckTommy shippers, but it's sometimes really hard to tune out the crazies and the nonsense they spew. It's really hard to ignore the wishful thoughts of cheating and off screen break ups. Dont get me started on the LFJ hate. did any of their other LIs get this much hate? I don't understand and I don't care to. Honestly, when I was watching the show I didnt get coupley vibes from Eddie and Buck, but a deep brotherly connection that 2 best friends can form. (Yes, I'm watching the same show everyone else is.) Thank you for showing that I'm very much not the only one that thinks this way.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me hope that these 2 will get their happily ever after that they deserve. I'm so excited to see their relationship bloom and grow with time.

Thank you for sharing this with me!

I completely understand your feelings about wishing you didn't join fandom, because I feel the same. It doesn't matter what you say or do there is always someone watching ready to twist everything into ruining your experience.

I also wish I never would have opened up about my mother's passing and my cousin's career.

Ignorance sure is bliss.

I hope you can still find joy in this fandom and just know I'm always rooting for everyone in my notes.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Soooo, now that all my wedding madness is over I'm catching up on everything and seeing a lot of weird ass energy towards black writers here (and Wattpad specifically was mentioned too). Honestly complaining that black women don't have much interest in reading about your yt OC is just classic entitlement. I personally do read fics written by any and all races of authors however but I do typically prefer to read about BLACK WOMEN. Why? Because I am a BLACK WOMAN. All that "he caressed her fair creamy skin" and "he ran his fingers through her hair" and "she blushed bright red" etc are NOT WRITTEN FOR US. As a writer, ALL OF MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ARE BLACK WOMEN AND WILL BE DESCRIBED AS SUCH!! Idgaf if that hurts your fragile little feelings, you can find your way to the block button, respectfully.

The POC that are not into your fics probably have a reason!! A lot of women in the IWC especially yt women are constantly practicing racial fetishization in regards to these specific men not to mention the other micro aggressions and stereotypes/inaccurate portrayals. "A POC didn't like my portrayal of POC character! Poor pitiful me." See how dumb that sounds? As a yt person writing about people of color it is your job and your responsibility to educate yourself before doing so and not to expect us to just grin and bare your stories that were written without a care in the world about us or the people you are writing about in mind. "It makes me insecure about writing them" Sorry to hear that. No one is saying you can't be white and write good fanfic about Roman, The Usos or any other POC. One of my closest mutuals on this app is white and writes Roman and does a really good job of being inclusive in her language and never making me feel uncomfortable in reading her work. Look inward, boo. It's a you problem, not an us problem.

And to my fellow black fic writers, drop a 🖤 in the comments or something please so I can show some love to you guys and together we might piss off an entitled bitch today 💖✌🏾

[karioke13]

My Transformers One thoughts!!!

✨Spoiler free✨

Holy moly this movie was just so…WOW!!! Before I start with my thoughts, I would like for y’all to know that I’ve never been this hyped for a movie in a long time! I was so excited I was shaking from excitement that my family kept asking if I was okay! 😂

Ok now to my thoughts. First off, I just want to mention how good the voice acting was. Chris Hemsworth did such a phenomenal job as Orion Pax, later Optimus Prime. Whenever his character gave a speech, I was crying because of how amazing and inspiring it was. And Orion in general was just so adorable and fun to watch! Now Brians voice acting was spine chilling! His decent from good friend who sticks to protocols to becoming the revenge seeking Megatron just flowed ever so nicely! The writers did an incredible job with his villain arc. Plus, Brians voice acting just made it even more incredible! And Michael Keegan as Bumblebee was ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS! My mom loved him she thought he was so funny! He was kinda, sweet and always willing to help his friends. The chemistry that Optimus and Elita have with each other was *chefs kiss* you can tell she really cared for him throughout the whole movie! Everyone’s chemistry with each other was amazing!!! Every single character had such well done chemistry with the others, showing the good writing in this movie!

Now the music and animation, was OFF THE CHARTS. They both flowed so well together. The music made me feel so teary eyed because of how beautiful was! It made you really feel in the moment. And the animation was absolutely STUNNING! Seriously yall, shoutout to all the animators for doing such an amazing job with the animation style. It was just so incredible. So if you are really into animation and/or music definitely check this movie out!!

And finally the plot in this film. I swear this plot is absolutely heartbreaking in this movie. So many moments that make you feel. The friendship bond between Orion Pax and D-16 to the long known enemies Optimus Prime and Megatron was simply so sad to watch. And it really makes you feel hooked to the story watching D-16 going through his good guy to bad guy transformation. It really makes you feel for the guy. There were also so many dark moments too which was pretty shocking but honestly pretty valid for the story and I like how they didn’t try to shy away from all that. The writers really embraced it, show the horrors and the reality of war, corruption and betrayal. Honestly, I haven’t been this hooked on a plot for a movie in a long long time!

I had so much fun watching this movie. It made me feel like a little kid again, getting excited about a movie and what will happen and why the characters change. Seriously shoutout to everyone person who worked in this movie yall did an amazing job! I’m really considering watching this movie because of how good this movie was. 10/10 movie rating for me. I definitely recommend yall to watch this amazing movie, it has such amazing characters as well as a really good lesson from this movie! I can’t wait for more of this Transformers story! I had a really good time! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Also I brought my Optimus Prime plushie and my Bumblebee funko pop, along with my new Transformers One shirt to the movies with me! And I also took some pictures during the movie as well! (No spoilers i promise!!) Have a look! 🤗

[b-a-n-d-e-r]

I gotta be honest, T***** S**** signing on to rehab the fucking NFL via one of the notoriously unrepentantly racist teams in the league, at a time when pushback had finally, FINALLY, gotten THIS CLOSE to actually forcing teams to maybe change their names and reconsider the horrifically racist merch and imagery is actually fucking it for me like I am aware that people are sort of dead to these kinds of symbols due to overexposure but let me put it like this, imagine a colonizer team playing at the amusement park they've built on the site of a bombed out Palestinian hospital and their mascot is a caricature of a murdered Palestinian child. That's literally what this is. Fuck the Chiefs and sorry but: fuck your fave too. She is dancing on the site of a genocide while being silent about the one currently happening across the world, how is that better than any other billionaire this site wants to draw and quarter? Better PR?

[ruporas]

honeymoon phase! (ID in alt)

[seasicksilver]

so much chaeya on the tl, felt the urge to design fem!chaeya