#so what's the point in acknowledging her at all?

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Out of frame 1/4

Summary : Y/N and Lando Norris have been together for three years. Their relationship is real, steady, and full of quiet love but always behind the scenes. While fans know they’re a couple, Lando has never posted about her, avoids public displays of affection, and never mentions her in interviews. At first, Y/N understood. She believed it was about privacy, about protecting what they had. But over time, being constantly left out of frame has started to hurt.

Genre : angst, SMAU

Pairing : Lando Norris x reader

Faceclaim : @suanbeiii

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

@landonorris

Solid weekend for the team. Proud of the progress, still hungry for more.

@_user1 he really posted a whole carousel and not ONE pic of his gf who was literally trackside all weekend 😭

@_user2 not even a mention to Y/N… 🫠

@_user3 he posts more Oscar than his actual girlfriend 💀 priorities???

@_user4 if you didn’t already know they were together you’d 100% assume he’s single. this is just weird now.

@_user5 i get wanting privacy but this feels like pretending she’s not part of his life at all 🙃

@_user6 she looked so pretty this weekend too and nothing?? not even a tag? a repost?? okay then.

@_user7 lando i love you but if you post oscar one more time before your actual girlfriend... 😩

@_user8 she shows up to support him every time and he won’t even acknowledge her... she deserves someone proud to be with her tbh.

@_user9 THAT OVERCUT WAS SO SMOOTH. give this man a trophie 😤👏

@_user10 can we talk about how good he looked in that third pic omg 😮‍💨

@_user11 LANDO MASTERCLASS LET’S GOOOOO 🔥🔥🔥

@_user12 he’s so serious here omg bring back chaotic lando for a second pls

@your_username 📍Melbourne

Driver number 4 is kinda cute 💌

@_user1 the caption??? Y’ALL ARE SO LOWKEY BUT SO CUTE I’M CRYING 😭

@_user2 girl you’re soft-launching your boyfriend of 3 YEARS 😭😭

@_user3 that polaroid of lando casually thrown in there… I SEE YOU 👀

@_user4 ok but why is this post more romantic than anything he’s ever posted 🥲

@_user5 her at the track >>>>>

@_user6 driver number 4 better WAKE UP and post you too, queen.

@_user7 the way she supports him so quietly and consistently... deserves more recognition fr

@_user8 prettiest girl at the paddock 💘

@_user9 nah cause this aesthetic is everything

@_user10 “driver number 4 is kinda cute” is the most girlfriend thing i’ve ever read lmao

@landonorris

Recharge day after the race 🌊

@_user1 sir who is taking these pics 👀

@_user2 ok but you could’ve at least tagged your girlfriend if she’s behind the camera 🙃

@_user4 jumping into the ocean like he’s diving away from accountability

@_user5 you look happy but why does this give ‘i’m gonna ignore my gf again’ energy 😩

@_user6 lando pls post your gf for once we’re begging 😭

@_user7 this whole post is ✨aesthetic✨ and also suspiciously solo

@_user8 i know y/n is there i can FEEL it through the screen

@_user9 how are you real. like actually. it’s offensive at this point 😍🔥

@_user10 lando + blue water = serotonin

@your_username

Lost at sea but in love with it and maybe a little bit with him too @landonorris 💙

@_user1 oh she’s SERVING

@_user2 lando… baby… if you don’t want her I WILL 😌

@_user3 you’re literally the prettiest woman on this app i don’t understand how he keeps you hidden like a secret

@_user4 nah bc if i looked like this and he never posted me i’d simply disappear

@_user5 can lando even fight?? because you’re way too stunning for this level of invisibility 💅🏼

@_user6 he posts boats. she posts him. let that sink in.

@_user7 if she ever becomes single i’m standing outside her house with flowers

@_user8 the towel pic is giving summer movie ending energy 🥺

@_user9 not to be dramatic but he should be GRATEFUL to be in this post

Texts messages

Lando Got back to the hotel. You home safe?

Y/N Yeah. Landed an hour ago. Just got in

Lando You okay? You’ve been quiet since you left Did I do something?

Y/N Not really. I’m just tired

Lando Y/N. Don’t do that thing where you pretend you’re fine but I can feel it’s not

Y/N Well Maybe there’s something

Lando Talk to me

Y/N I don’t want to argue with you, Lando. Not over text

Lando Then let’s not argue. Just tell me what’s on your mind. Please

Y/N Okay It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid But I saw the comments under your post

Lando The boat post?

Y/N Yes And the one from Melbourne to Every single one saying “where’s your gf” or “why doesn’t he post her” or “does she even exist”…

Lando Y/N You know that stuff isn’t real It’s Instagram. Fans talk

Y/N Yeah, but I am real And I was there. I’m always there But if I wasn’t posting you, no one would even know we’re together

Lando What are you trying to say?

Y/N I’m saying it’s starting to feel like maybe I’m the only one proud to be with you That maybe… you don’t want me to be visible. That I’m not someone you want to show off

Lando That’s not fair You know I’m private. I always have been. I don’t need to prove anything to strangers online

Y/N This isn’t about strangers It’s about me.

Lando We are public. People know we’re together. It’s not like I’m hiding you

Y/N Then why does it feel like you are?

Lando Y/N…

Y/N You say you don’t want to share too much online. Okay. But you don’t even talk about me in interviews. You don’t look at me in the paddock. You walk ten steps ahead. You don’t touch me in public. You don’t even smile at me if cameras are around

Lando You’re exaggerating.

Y/N Am I?

Lando So what, you want me to start posting couple selfies and PDA every weekend just to make people shut up?

Y/N No. I want you to want to Not for them. For me

Lando You know I love you. Why does it matter how many people see it?

Y/N Because maybe I want to feel like you’re proud of me Of us

Lando I am proud of us. I just don’t show it the same way you do

Y/N Then maybe we want different things

Lando ...what did you just say?

Y/N Maybe I want more More than quiet acknowledgments and careful distance

Lando You’re making it sound like I don’t care about you

Y/N Oscar is private too But he still posts about Lily. He talks about her in interviews, he includes her He makes her feel seen without compromising anything

Lando Are you serious right now?

Lando You’re really bringing up Oscar in the middle of this?

Y/N It’s not about him. It’s about how he finds a way to love her loudly without putting her in the spotlight she didn’t ask for

Lando Unbelievable.

Lando So what, now I’m not just a bad boyfriend, I’m worse than Oscar too?

Y/N That’s not what I’m saying, Lando...

Lando No, that’s exactly what you’re saying You want a boyfriend like Oscar? Go be with Oscar.

Y/N Wow. That’s what you got from this?

Lando You’re throwing comparisons in my face and expecting me to stay calm?

Y/N I’m trying to make you understand! I want to feel valued, Lando. I want to feel like I’m part of your life, not just your locked-away secret. Is that so unreasonable?

Lando So because I don’t perform our relationship for strangers online, I don’t value you? Do you hear how that sounds?

Y/N You’re twisting my words

Lando You’re making this about other people. About Instagram

Y/N No, I’m making this about how you treat me About how I feel invisible when I’m next to you and the world’s watching

Lando I didn’t realize dating me came with a rulebook on public affection

Y/N It doesn’t But I thought being with me came with basic emotional effort

Lando I’m always there for you. I love you. I give you everything I can But it’s never enough, is it?

Y/N Not when you act like this

Lando Fine. Enjoy Monaco. I’ll see you whenever

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @hi26loveie, @bunnisplayground, @nina481, @reallifemermaidprincess, @cars-and-frogs, @delululeclerc, @txmhxllqnd, @lydia-demarek, @destinyg237, @rhaenyrasversion, @sarascabiosa, @readz4u, @tvdtw4ever, @mynameisangeloflife, @teti-menchon0604, @suns3treading, @op814kitty, @prettyboyroseberg, @willowsnook, @ariesandwolves, @clarksgf, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @pinklemonade34, @fat-meh, @tiaajosephin, @landosbabe4, @easy4, @jule239, @mercrussell, @skylandori, @ryuucollapse, @nickie-amore, @fairyjinn, @seonaw, @mattslovelygf, @strawberrylov-er, @linnygirl09, @dilflover44, @bell1a, @f1fantasys, @sillyfreakfanparty, @janonymus0, @taetae-armyyyyy, @charlesgirl16, @angstynasty

[callikari]

NOTHING ★ l.hs

PRECIS 。 but there's nothing, like doing nothing. with you.

이희승 x fem!reader 1491 fluff highschool au slowburn romance ─ mild language kissing skinship implied emotional initimacy emotional vulnerability teasing & sarcasm

REBLOG FOR A KiSS

you transferred to decelis academy in the middle of the year.

a crisp wednesday morning, wind tugging at your skirt, nerves prickling under your skin like static. everything about this place felt too polished—marble floors, crisp uniforms, whispers that didn’t stop even when you walked by.

you clutched your schedule tighter. block b, room 203.

your homeroom teacher greeted you with a sigh and a dry smile.

“you’ll be sitting next to lee heeseung.”

there were a few quiet reactions. someone let out a soft tsk. another boy muttered under his breath, good luck.

you didn’t understand what that meant.

not until you took your seat.

heeseung didn’t look up.

hood up indoors. airpods in. hoodie creased just right over long, slouched limbs. he didn’t say hi, didn’t move his bag off your chair, didn’t acknowledge you at all. just tapped his pencil to an invisible rhythm and stared ahead like the world bored him.

you didn’t mind. you’d met his type before—the ones who moved like everyone else was in slow motion, like the rules didn’t apply. pretty boys with deep silences and shallow tempers.

so you didn’t say hi either.

and that’s what made you different.

heeseung noticed you by what you didn’t do.

you didn’t fawn over him like the others.

you didn’t ask about basketball.

you didn’t comment on the designer sneakers he always wore.

you didn’t even glance at him when he rolled his eyes during class discussions like the world had nothing new to offer.

instead, you offered him a pen without looking when his ran out.

you shared notes after he dozed off in history.

you laughed with your friends—giselle, yunjin, and belle—in the hallway like you had your own world and didn’t need to impress anyone.

he didn’t know what to do with that.

so the first time he spoke to you, it wasn’t planned.

“you always carry gum?”

you blinked. “uh… yeah?”

“can i have one?”

you slid him a piece without comment. he unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth, then gave a lazy little smile like it cost him something.

“thanks.”

from there, things changed. slowly. quietly.

you started finding your chair already pulled out when you entered the room. he’d pretend he didn’t do it. you’d pretend not to notice.

you started catching him watching you—not in a dreamy way, but like he was trying to figure you out. like you were a puzzle piece no one had handed him before.

during quizzes, if you were stuck, he’d tap twice under the desk: c.

it was always right.

one day, during your literature presentation, the projector glitched and your slides disappeared. before the teacher could even react, heeseung leaned over and clicked a few keys on your laptop, fixing it in seconds.

“you owe me,” he whispered, not even looking up.

you rolled your eyes. “you want a medal?”

he leaned back in his chair. “another piece of gum would do.”

you started studying together in the library.

at first, heeseung barely spoke. just sat beside you, hoodie up, fingers tapping his mechanical pencil, page-flipping in sync with yours.

but the silence softened.

he’d start pointing out typos in your notes.

you’d tease his handwriting.

he’d push his energy drink toward you when you yawned.

you’d slide your extra hair tie around his wrist when he fiddled with his sleeves too much.

your friends didn’t know what to make of him.

giselle wrinkled her nose. “he’s cute, sure. but he looks like he’s allergic to sunlight.”

yunjin scoffed. “he’s got the personality of a locked phone.”

belle, ever the peacemaker, tilted her head. “nah… he’s like a cat. mean at first, but once he picks you, you’re his.”

it turned out belle was right.

because heeseung started showing up.

not just in class, but… everywhere.

after lunch, he’d linger by the lockers.

in gym, he’d guard you a little too closely during basketball scrimmages.

he’d walk behind you after school, not too close, but never too far.

he started replying to your late-night texts—short at first, then longer, until he was the last person you spoke to every night.

you shared music.

he gave you moody lo-fi.

you sent him golden-era indie pop.

he said your taste was weird.

you said his vibe was tragic.

he let you tie his hoodie strings in bows and didn’t pull away when you did.

he started scribbling things in the corners of your notebook pages. tiny sketches. sometimes just your name, in blocky bubble letters.

his friends took notice too.

jake gave you a grin in the hallway and nudged heeseung. “new girl’s kinda cool.”

jay watched you from across the cafeteria, raising an eyebrow when you made heeseung laugh.

sunghoon handed you a water bottle during gym and just said, “he talks about you.”

sunoo invited you to his birthday party.

jungwon saved you a seat on the bus for a field trip.

and riki—loud, unfiltered riki—pointed at you during basketball practice and yelled, “hyung likes herrrr!”

heeseung shoved him to the ground, face burning.

you covered yours with both hands.

he didn’t deny it.

you never had a clear “becoming friends” moment.

it just happened in snapshots.

you, laughing at something on his phone.

heeseung walking you to your locker after class.

sharing your charger under the desk.

him poking your shoulder during group projects.

you fixing his collar before a team photo.

sitting side by side on the bleachers after hours, his knee bumping yours and never pulling away.

he teased you mercilessly.

you teased him back harder.

once, after he got a nosebleed during a game, you snapped a picture of him with tissue shoved up his nose and made it your lockscreen.

“you’re dead,” he hissed.

“say cheese,” you chirped.

heeseung almost smiled.

it was spring when something shifted.

you’d both ditched lunch to sit on the rooftop.

the sun hung low. the air smelled like new grass and cherry blossoms.

you had a bandaid on your elbow, scraped raw from slipping down the stairs earlier that morning.

“fell,” you muttered, brushing your hair back.

heeseung reached over. gently pressed the edge of the bandaid like he was testing the wound himself.

“be careful,” he said, voice low. “you’re the only friend i like.”

you looked up.

and maybe something cracked open in your chest.

after that, there were more things. soft things.

he brought you strawberry milk after a bad test.

he texted home yet? every night even though you always walked.

he slung his hoodie over your shoulders without saying a word.

he watched you like you were more interesting than the entire court.

and you?

you started noticing things about him.

how his ears turned red when he was nervous.

how he hummed under his breath when he thought no one was listening.

how he only let his guard down when it was just the two of you.

you were falling.

but heeseung?

he’d already fallen.

one afternoon, you were both studying in the library, shoulders nearly touching, your legs tangled under the desk without either of you noticing.

you murmured, “this is what falling in love feels like.”

he looked up from his textbook. “what?”

“that song. jvke.”

heeseung tilted his head. then leaned in, so close his breath warmed your cheek.

“then i’ve been falling for a while,” he whispered. “hope you catch me.”

you turned your face toward him.

and smiled.

“you’re lucky,” you said. “i’m good at catching things.”

he stared at you for one suspended second longer.

then leaned in. fully. finally.

the kiss was soft. careful. like heeseung couldn’t believe it was happening.

his hand came up to brush your cheek, thumb resting just below your ear, and your fingers curled into the front of his hoodie. his lips tasted like mint gum and something warmer—something that felt like safety.

you pulled away first. just barely.

he blinked. breathless.

“was that real?”

you grinned. “you want another to check?”

he laughed under his breath, pressed his forehead against yours, and whispered, “yeah. maybe two more. for science.”

school ended, but you didn’t.

you spent late nights on the basketball court under the stars, heeseung tossing pebbles at your window just to see you in pajamas.

you went to convenience stores past midnight for ice cream and sat on the curb, knees bumping.

you kissed in the backseat of jay’s car after the fireworks show.

you wore his hoodie on the hottest day of july, just because it still smelled like him.

he made you playlists.

you doodled on his arms with sharpie.

he called you baby once by accident. then again on purpose.

you kissed under the rain on the last night of august, soaked and smiling, hands clinging to each other like neither of you wanted summer—or this—to ever end.

you didn’t say i love you yet.

but you didn’t have to.

everything already felt like it.

vi says :: this took so long to write but i love it sm !!

enhypen taglist :: @nocturnebite @cheruphic @chrrific @jungwonbropls @manariees @ijustreallylike2read @ijustwannareadstuff20

© CALLIKARI 

[kinky-cas]

everybody loves a clown WHAT an episode. dean halfheartedly trying to hit on jo and just stopping halfway through, for once not up for putting up an act. and then turning her down again at the end of the episode after acknowledging that normally he’d be hitting on her ‘fast enough to make her head spin’. but sure yeah his dad just died it’s just not the time, right?

except he then immediately turns around and gets SO flirty with ash. and it’s so obviously genuine and doesn’t feel at all performative! like, dean already seems interested and impressed by ash at the start of the episode. but then at the end of it ash makes a queer movie reference that sam doesn’t get, and then shoots dean a look to see if he clocked it. and right after that dean angles in and turns on the eyelashes and gets flirty and it feels so REAL and subtle and different from the interest he’s generally expressed in women up to this point.

[dabikillmygroove]

Interesting take on Natsuo!

I can’t say I 100% completely disagree, but I can’t agree with you either especially with the he put his hate and feelings over everyone else.

The first thing I want to kind of talk about is the abandoning his family - I think that’s kind of unfair to say, especially giving the circumstances. We also know that Natsuo is 19, so he most likely moved out at an early age, so to say that a child leaving an abusive household is him “abandoning” his family just feels quite the wrong approach. Why should he stay in that toxic environment? And he clearly didn’t abandon completely!

The second one is in concern of Fuyumi - He very clearly loves his sister, enough to go along with her choices even though he is uncomfortable because he is kind. Enji himself mentioned this. It’s unfair to assume he doesn’t love her enough because he in the end couldn’t handle being around his abusive/neglectful father. It’s not him half-assing it at all it’s called trauma and anger! Also if Natsuo is unfair and doesn’t “love” his sister enough to play nice, we shouldn’t leave Fuyumi out of this because she is unfair too in pursuit of her happy family(towards Shouto too). She hardly respects Natsuo’s feelings if she is prepared to put him in those situations(I know he could reject, but that’s the point he loves his sister enough that he’s willing to try for her sake), and she passes his feelings off as not letting bygones be bygones - said bygones being years of abuse/neglect, hospitalisation of their mother and death of a brother.

Lastly, I can understand why you would say him going no-contact could cause serious ramifications, but honestly you’re looking at it on such a restricted basic level(olus we don’t know how serious his no/contact is). Just because he has gone no-contact with his father. That doesn’t mean he can’t or won’t be able to attend gatherings, funerals, weddings etc. Because he can’t simply not engage with Enji, he can well let’s say Fuyumi gets married he can attend the wedding and greet Fuyumi, compliment her and enjoy the festivities without even engaging his father. Who says he has to talk to his father at his sister’s or brother’s wedding? No one, other than people believing that people who go no/contact can’t work around these things 😂! I’ll share a personal example: - my Mother and Auntie have gone no-contact with their uncle after family problems, and when we had a family wedding where he was present. You know what they did? They just didn’t engage with him and they stayed out of his area. Same for when it was a funeral for my Nan(their mother/his sister) they didn’t engage with one another and both gatherings went smoothly. Rei living with Enji still also doesn’t mean he won’t be able to have a relationship with her, they can always make plans to meet up at a small cafe without Enji. Who’s stopping Rei from doing that? Because if Enji did then that means he is still a garbage person, and if Rei respects her child then she should or would work around having a relationship with him that respects his choice. Or are you assuming that Rei is just….never going to leave her house? Be a lil hermit! The grandchildren area may be the iffy part I’ll admit that, but I don’t think he’s out to be the next Kotaro or that he would deny his children a bond but frankly the other points can be easily dismissed by the fact that he can still attend those things without engaging his father. Because there are many families around the world with members that don’t like each other or have gone no-contact, but they still go to gatherings, festivities and such, simply making the decision to not interact or to remain at different places at the gathering. There are many ways that families can plan around these things if they acknowledge everyone’s feelings.

Anyways, thank you for the interesting take 😊 good read!

Natsuo is more like his father than he wants to admit...and it is both tragic and unsettling.

Disclaimer: Not a criticism of Natsuo. I actually like this character. It is just a comparison study and a commentary of actions vs reactions. Natsuo is NOT a bad person for any of his choices.

He does what he wants without regard for what the people around him want.

Sure, he'll go along with certain requests, like going to the family dinner because Fuyumi asked him to.

However, rather than be a polite host, he decides he'd rather embarrass his sister by being angry at their father all through said dinner and making things awkward for their guests. He didn't have to be there. Whoever he's talking to on the phone after the fact, maybe the girlfriend, he apologizes for bailing on their plans. He didn't even have to white-lie to Fuyumi. He straight up had other plans that night. So there are two ways you could look at this:

He conceded to a request to support his sister...then half-assed it.

Or he canceled his plans and went out of his way to be a prick.

He's not wrong for hating his father, that is 100% a normal reaction to an abusive parent, but he is wrong for not establishing his own concrete boundaries or respecting Fuyumi's.

Like Endeavor, Natsuo is pretty isolated within the family.

Mom’s out of the picture and contact with her is limited.

We all know what his relationship with his father is like.

His closest sibling 'died' when they were kids, but even then, Touya and Natsuo's relationship wasn't a good one. We know Touya spent years trauma-dumping on Natsuo, and little bro took it like a champ. Supporting one's siblings like that is admirable, but it does highlight a key difference between the brothers. Touya has memories of a happy childhood with their father. Natsuo does not. So he had to listen to his older brother crying for a past he knows nothing about, which had to have brought on a little resentment. "At least Dad loved you once. I never even got that much."

As stated above, Natsuo doesn't see eye to eye with Fuyumi. At least not enough that he respects her decision to forgive their father. Whether he supports that decision or not, he should love his sister more than he hates their father, and starting shit unprovoked over a dinner she asked him to be at is not a supportive decision.

His relationship with Shouto is hard to gauge. They were raised apart, sure, but they lived in the same house. So the fact that he didn't know Shouto's favorite food until he was fifteen is...odd. Natsuo never tried to have a conversation with him in passing? But I have a theory about that. With how Shouto behaved in the very beginning of the series, the mirror-image of their arrogant father, I think Natsuo had a, “Fuck, now there’s two of them," moment and actively avoided association with his younger brother. This may have contributed to him moving out even though he attends a college that's close enough that that he can casually stop by for dinner.

He Actually Does Get Violent.

Not with other people, thankfully, but he does slam his fist against the door in this scene, which is an act of aggression.

This makes for an intense moment in animation, sure, but if you saw a person do this in real life, you’d be nervous about where that fist is going next.

I already went over this in the Endeavor analysis that I made a few months back, but the gist of it is taking out your anger on inanimate objects is unhealthy because you're training your brain to associate anger with violence, which has the potential to make it harder to dissociate in the long run.

In his own way, he did abandon his family.

Fuyumi tells him to leave the family circumstances to her....and he just left her to it? She went to college to become a teacher and made a career work in spite of living in a volatile home. The series doesn't say where Natsuo is a student at, but he clearly lives close enough to home that he can drop by for a visit, so it's not like he went to some prestigious university out of town.

So yeah. Left his remaining brother and sister to their father.

The other point, though, is he's canonically studying medical welfare.

Medical welfare is the consideration of patient wellbeing, preserving individual dignity, promoting quality of life, and taking a holistic approach to healthcare that applies mental and emotional care to a patient, not just physical.

So it's ironic this is where his brother ends up and he says absolutely nothing about it. Nothing about promising to come see him, nothing about asking the staff if this really the best arrangement they could come up with, no promises to Touya that he'll figure something out. He just ghosts and, like their father, that is really hypocritical.

In the end, he puts his own hate and feelings above everyone else’s.

This one's pretty closely related to my first point, but it does bear reiterating for the finale. Natsuo's decision to never see his father again is ultimately going to hurt his family more than it's going to spite Endeavor.  Going no-contact is a healthy choice and I don’t fault him for it at all.  But if he sticks to it, it’s going to lead to some serious ramifications down the road.

If he's strict enough to refuse to be in the same vicinity as Endeavor:

He won’t attend Touya’s funeral and support his grieving mother and siblings if Endeavor will be there.

Since we see in the epilogue Rei stays with Endeavor, Natsuo visiting her is going to be complicated.

If Fuyumi gets married, she might want her father at the wedding. Is Natsuo going to skip his sister’s wedding out of spite?

If Shouto gets married and decides to let their father be there, same story.

If Endeavor outlives Rei, will Natsuo miss her funeral?

And finally, Natsuo might have to come to terms with the fact his own children may want to meet their grandfather, which is a decision he can only control until they’re legal adults.  He can tell them how much of a monster Endeavor was all he wants, but those kids may still be curious about meeting the man in person, especially if they hear stories from other family members and know the former No. 2 and No. 1 is their grandfather.

I’m not saying Natsuo should forgive Endeavor, or even stop being angry with him because he has every right to his anger. But if he still wants a relationship with the rest of the family, he is going to have to exercise some form of compromise.  Especially with his children because he unfortunately has all the hallmarks to become the next Kotaro Shimura. This is a society where kids want to be heroes, and then there's Natsuo who has a history with the dark side of hero society, no matter the good Shouto does.

[bradleysass]

sloth - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 953

James was lying on the couch with his legs sprawled dramatically over the armrest, one sock halfway off, his curls messier than usual, and a philosophy book half-open on his stomach. Regulus was on the floor with a mug of tea and a judgmental brow arched toward James’ current posture.

“You’re going to herniate your spine trying to be Socrates,” Regulus muttered, flipping a page in The Symposium.

“I’m already herniating,” James said with a grin, “but for art.” He squinted down at the book as if it would suddenly grant him divine enlightenment. “Question.”

“Unfortunately, I’m listening.”

James beamed. “Seven deadly sins. Pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth. Let’s assign them to our friends.”

Regulus didn't even hesitate to look up. “You want me to do that?”

“Yeah, I trust you to be honest.”

“That’s because you’re reckless.”

“And you’re pretty when you’re cruel.”

Regulus rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible. Still, he leaned back against the base of the couch and took a thoughtful sip of his tea. “Fine. But if they find out, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.” James grinned. “Start anywhere.”

Regulus tapped his lip. “Alright. Pride. Sirius. Obviously.”

James laughed immediately. “You’re not wrong.”

“He’s brilliant, beautiful, and he knows it. That’s the thing with pride, it’s not just thinking you’re great—it’s believing everyone else should acknowledge it too. Sirius doesn’t walk into a room so much as make an entrance and then wait for applause.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “He would start a cult if Remus didn’t roll his eyes at him all the time.”

“That’s the only thing keeping him humble. Remus' disapproval.”

Regulus smirked. “Next: Greed. I’m giving it to Marlene.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Marlene? Really? She always shares her fries.”

“She does, but greed isn’t just about hoarding things, James. It’s wanting more. Constantly. Marlene wants all the attention, all the chaos, all the spark and spectacle. She’s greedy for life. She burns through people and parties like she’s terrified of running out.”

James paused. “Okay. Yeah. That’s actually... scarily accurate.”

“I know,” Regulus said with a hint of smugness. “Now. Wrath. Barty.”

James made a face. “Yeah. He has resting murder face.”

Regulus chuckled darkly. “He doesn’t get angry often. But when he does? It's explosive. Wrath is about that simmering edge. The kind of anger that waits for an excuse.”

“Ticking time bomb.”

“Exactly.”

James twirled a loose thread on his shirt. “So who's envy?”

Regulus hesitated. “Lily.”

“What? Lily? She’s a walking inspirational quote.”

“She’s kind,” Regulus agreed. “But she compares herself to others constantly. Wants to be the best at everything she does, even if she doesn’t say it out loud. Envy isn’t always obvious. Sometimes it comes wrapped in good intentions.”

James mulled that over. “That’s kind of sad.”

“She works hard. She’s brilliant. But she’s always looking sideways. That kind of hunger has a cost.”

James sighed. “Okay. That brings us to... lust.”

Regulus grinned slowly. “Dorcas.”

“Absolutely. No hesitation. That woman could seduce a rock.”

“She probably has.”

“I think she flirted with a traffic cone once,” James said, half-laughing.

Regulus snorted. “And the cone said thank you.”

James pointed at him. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I warned you.”

“Alright, alright. What about gluttony?”

Regulus smirked. “Peter.”

James blinked. “Because of food?”

“Not just food,” Regulus said. “Peter consumes. He doesn’t know how to pace himself. Be it food, gossip, attention—he always takes too much. It's not malicious. It's just... excessive.”

James nodded slowly. “He does kind of hoard snacks and secrets.”

“Exactly.”

James shifted on the couch, stretching until his book slid off him and thudded to the floor. “So that leaves... sloth.”

Regulus didn’t answer immediately.

James frowned. “Reg?”

Regulus tilted his head back against the couch to look at him. “That one’s me.”

James blinked. “You?”

Regulus nodded once. “It’s not laziness in the typical sense. It’s a soul-deep exhaustion. The kind that makes you freeze. Makes you do nothing when you know you should. Sloth is spiritual apathy. Not because you don’t care—but because you’re too afraid to start. Too tired to fight.”

James was quiet. The room felt heavier suddenly, like gravity had intensified.

He slid down from the couch until he was next to Regulus on the floor, thigh to thigh.

“That’s not a sin,” James said softly. “That’s surviving.”

Regulus didn’t respond for a long moment. His fingers were tight around his mug.

“But it feels like one,” he finally whispered. “When everyone else is running and I’m... still trying to stand.”

James reached over and carefully took the mug from his hands, setting it aside.

He pulled Regulus into a loose, grounding hug, arms warm around his waist.

“You’re not stuck,” he said into Regulus’ hair. “You’re still moving. Maybe slower. Maybe quieter. But you’re not still.”

Regulus leaned into him with a sigh that sounded like something uncoiling inside his chest.

They sat like that for a while. Books forgotten.

Eventually, James whispered, “So where do I fall in all that?”

Regulus leaned back just enough to look at him.

“You’re all of them,” he said, and when James’s eyes widened in mock horror, Regulus smirked. “In the best possible way. Pride in your friends. Gluttony for joy. Wrath for justice. Lust for life. Envy only of the stars because you think you can burn brighter. Greed for love. Sloth, maybe, on Sundays. But you don’t sit in it—you just nap through it.”

James was quiet for a long beat. Then he grinned. “You think I burn brighter than stars?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret being poetic.”

James leaned in. “Too late.”

And then he kissed him.

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about how deeply lucanis' life has been defined by a lack of control of that life -- as he himself points out, even before the ossuary went and carved the headline out again with big bloody letters. of course he reacts badly to losing what little control he did manage to construct for himself even within those circumstances.

(namely: experience has taught him that things (caterina, loss, pain, love, all horribly and indelibly intermingled) will happen to him whether he wants them to or not and there's nothing he can do about that... but he gets to decide what's let in or out of his soul as it happens, even if he has to close it all down and deaden and numb himself out in the process. (even if that means he drifts further and further away from illario, who's been desperately reaching out and trying to keep hold of him until he finally gives up completely and tries to cut the bond all at once when lucanis doesn't seem to reach back anymore.) it's such rare well-observed freeze logic solidly constructed from the bottom up, I'm still so impressed with it.

the way illario seeks constant external means to cope with caterina's abuse and importance in his life -- he can't win her admiration or acceptance or warmth (or like. acknowledgement even, at times :') ), no matter what, so he goes out and finds those things in others and then disdains and dismisses it for how easily and falsely it's won from them. he plots, he conspires, he tries to beat her at her own game however clumsily, he tries. lucanis doesn't try things that way. he's not about 'how do I improve my situation' by nature, he's 'how can I stop this from getting worse'. he avoids, he internalizes, he hunkers down and makes himself nothing until the pain maybe ends. he's fundamentally not a plotter, he's a reacter. an expert assassin pantser, if you will, to illario's clear and stated exasperation fhsak. man I love them. illario says 'get us out of here!!! if you loved me as I love you you'd help me get us out of here before it kills us both', lucanis says 'there is no other place, there's nowhere to go, all we can do is endure. and if it kills us... well, that's just family. that's what love is (the way things are headed I'll die first anyway so it's fine I won't have to face losing you)', and they're equally baffled and hurt by each other's POV. but they're both right, and they're both wrong. there's no 'right' way to deal with caterina's treatment of them, or their situation. the house always wins, if you pardon the expression. house dellamorte still stands and that is what matters to caterina in the end more than anything.

it also fits so well b/c like... their core wounds are that illario is the least favourite and is constantly dismissed, so he has to prove to caterina again and again that he matters. not even that he's worth love or respect or warm regard, but that he's here at all and as such should be considered. he has to shout 'in case u forgot I EXIST!!' at the top of his lungs or else be rendered nothing within the family structure (and himself, because it's all about family, that's all that really matters. in some weird twisted way I think caterina openly declaring him before all the other crows to still be of house dellamorte -- and no one from house dellamorte kneels -- is kind of a victory for him, as much as it's also a furthering of a prison sentence and public humiliation. house dellamorte brainfuckery goes hard.). lucanis is the favourite, and it's the double-edged sword that he gets all the affection and attention but also all the control and impossible expectations. drowning under all of that constant stress and close evaluation, his brain whispers 'I don't exist' to try to escape, to hide and hold on to the deep parts of himself that are crucial to life but not part of the perfect grandson caterina demands of him as the price of her love.)

I think a lot about how what seems to disquiet lucanis the most post-ossuary (as it would anyone with that psychological makeup) is the dissolving of internal boundaries and control he's been relying on, which is part of what spite symbolizes. his anger and reactivity has seceded from the union to the point of personification as a little guy (a little guy he resents and fears for his unpredictability and invasions into regions of his psyche he wishes to stay frozen and barren, and yet cares about deeply, loves! and also constantly dismisses and frequently helplessly lets down unless he's helped to learn to do otherwise. does this remind you of another relationship in his life, perhaps. it makes me feel nuts to think about the illario/spite parallels thanks for asking), and now that little guy is out there running the show freely the moment he glances away or closes his eyes. literal nightmare scenario I feel for him so deeply. so much of his coping is predicated on being able to Not do or feel or want certain things, and that's out the window now, Spite has Opinions. Spite refuses to stay wisely in place even if that place is hell on the logic that if you move you could find yourself in a place that's even worse, somehow. Spite actually wants to experience the world, however fucked up and scarring the way he arrived here, not just endure it. Spite means he has to face that maybe illario wasn't wrong all those years, at the same time as having to admit and face what illario has done to him, and figure out what to do about any of it.

anyway. mary kirby ma'am that's some good fucking metaphor work. thank you, and sorry about all the shit that happened

[lauufeydottir]

We’re Starting At The End

[part one | part two | part three | part four]

Insomnia isn't special among the residents of The Watchtower. Your relationship— or lack thereof— with John has been at a standstill for months. But late night company turns into talks, and tonight, those talks turn into more, something neither of you are ready to name.

[Reader is a mutant with the power to manipulate blood, and has a serum-induced healing factor similar to Wolverine's. Former Widow and Avenger, current Thunderbolt New Avenger.]

john walker x fem!reader

words: 7.6k

cw: swearing, mentions of death, past abuse/neglect, infertility, smut, oral sex (f!recieving), p in v, creampie, only hints of sub!john, enemies to reluctant allies to enemies to ???, confessions, the idiots are in love, john calls the reader ‘Red’ (because of the blood shtick, he’s very creative) (18+ MDNI)

a/n: wow fucking finally, ive been swamped with a new job and was so worried id never find the time to finish this, but ta-da! i hope you all enjoy my silly little story, and sorry it took so long to make the barbie dolls kiss

alone together - fall out boy

Most nights, you don’t sleep. With your healing factor, you don’t need as much as the average human anyway, but more often than not you keep yourself up until the first rays of sunlight pour through the sprawling windows of The Watchtower.

It makes for a lot of time spent alone, which is fine by you, and a good amount spent alongside whoever else is having trouble that night. There’s always someone; almost a year into being The New Avengers, the team is tight-knit and heavily traumatized. Everyone knows that if they can’t sleep, they can come find you to keep them company. It’s a weekly debate between Bob and Yelena on whether or not you’re actually nocturnal, and it’s not helping the vampire allegations from Alexei.

When it’s Bucky, the two of you catch up on the long list of movies and music that you’ve missed out on over the decades— everything you enjoy he hates, and vice versa. With Bob, you swap books, forcing him to stomach your questionable horror schlock, while you trudge through yet another sci-fi novel about space fascism. You and Ava smoke on your balcony, even if it doesn’t do much for you thanks to your metabolism, but it soothes her pains, physical and mental. It’s rare that Alexei can’t find rest, but when it’s his turn, the two of you split a bottle of vodka and share war stories— he can’t get enough of your Avengers tales, and the anecdotes you have of Nat. Yelena likes video games, technology that escapes you but you partake in anyway to give her the satisfaction of victory that keeps her mind occupied. You have a secret little routine with everyone at this point, something that stays with just you.

And then, there’s John.

It’s been six weeks since your heart stopped and things changed between the two of you. Vitriol and insults traded for longing glances and stilted conversations. You’re learning how to be around him now that it isn’t a battle, your first instinct still to lash out. But you know that’s not what you are anymore, so as the mockery dies on your tongue, the silence settles, because you aren’t ready to acknowledge what you are.

Your midnight routine with him is new, ever evolving, and mostly by accident. It always starts with running into him in the dark, when John is too tired to keep up the pretense of not wanting your comfort. Usually, neither of you speak, sitting in the silence of everything left unsaid, alone together. Sometimes, you muster up enough guts to ask him what’s wrong, and he’s brave enough to answer.

Tonight, you find John in the kitchen, staring aimlessly into the fridge for so long that the alarm for the door starts beeping sharply, and you can’t bear to turn away. He straightens up with a muted curse, shutting the door, and almost jumps when he notices someone. His shoulders relax when a second later he realizes it’s only you, but he still rolls his eyes.

"Jesus, Red. You’re gonna give me a heart attack," he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his forehead. "You hungry, or just here lookin to bug me?"

He’s been feeling the shift too. Sometimes, all he sees when he looks at you is the memory of your cold and broken body. Other times, it’s the glimpse of the real you that you’d given him that night, still only half-alive in his doorway just to make sure he was okay. He doesn’t know what’s harder to grasp; the fact that you rose from the dead or that somewhere deep down you care about him. You made him tongue tied before everything, but it’s even worse now, and he can’t find the line between brushing you off and letting everything out all at once.

“Well, if you go into cardiac arrest, I can stop it.” you quip, fingers fiddling with the tie of your satin robe.

You push past him to lean against the edge of the counter. Despite your teasing nature, there’s not a hint of humor in your irises, only wide-eyed exhaustion. Dark circles line them, and your entire body is tense, muscles taut like a bowstring. It was a night where you’d tried to rest and were made to regret it immediately.

John knows that look.

During the day, you’re all sharp remarks and steadfast confidence, but he’s been watching you long enough to know when you’re not okay. He knows the exhaustion, the way you hold yourself, the fidgeting. It used to be a version of you that he didn’t care for, but with each accidental encounter he longed to do more about what was plaguing you.

"Nightmare, or just insomnia?" he asks, and it feels like knocking down a wall.

“Nightmare,” you answer without hesitation, but don’t elaborate, your voice hoarse. There’s a deep understanding between the two of you, even if neither one knows what to do with it. You meet his gaze, and your grimace softens. “How about you? What was it tonight?”

"Insomnia," John replies with a rough sigh, leaning against the opposite counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He regards you, the silken robe you’re wearing, one shoulder barely exposed to the room. He tears his gaze away reluctantly, focusing on the hectic collection of magnets on the fridge. "Same as usual."

You raise an eyebrow. "You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine?" You hide your request for vulnerability— for connection— behind the teasing. You’ve noted it’s easier for both of you to digest that way.

He lets himself look back over at you, amused by your smart mouth. "You gotta go first."

Your shoulders lift in a languid shrug, the gesture meant to be nonchalant but only serves to make the restlessness more obvious. Your eyes flick up from the alternating tiles on the floor to him, contemplative. You pause for a moment, a brief hesitation before the floodgates open, pushing yourself up to perch on the countertop. It feels like a turning point.

"Dreams of Hydra mostly," you admit, a bitter edge as the words echo in the dim kitchen. "Of waking up strapped down in some cold room, being injected with god knows what. Things I should be over by now."

John is surprised by the rawness. He wasn’t actually expecting a genuine answer, and definitely not one that made his chest ache in ways he can’t rationalize. He remembers your terror in The Void. Seeing you afraid is enough to rattle anyone, but he witnessed it almost firsthand.

"It’s not something you can just be over,” he responds a little too decisively. The idea of you beating yourself up for the crime of being used like that isn’t one that sits well with him. He sighs, shaking his head as if it will clear his racing thoughts. "I still dream about Afghanistan. About… about the orders we followed.” The silence hangs heavily in the room, broken only by the intermittent sound of the freezer rattling in the background. He doesn’t often talk about his time overseas, the story of what he did in the name of defending a country that never once intended to protect him. “Sometimes, Olivia pops up too. Reminds me how much I screwed that up." He glances up. “But the part that makes me feel horrible is the fact I don’t regret it.”

“Why don’t you regret it?” you ask quietly, appreciating the way he’s taken the spotlight off of you.

After several beats, he answers with a weary exhale, his shoulders slumped. “We got married because it was just another thing we were supposed to do. High school sweethearts, family pressure, society. It wasn’t long before we grew apart and both felt trapped. Eventually, it all came crashing down. And I just…” His words trail off into another heavy sigh, the guilt weighing him down, even after all this time. “I guess I got tired of doing what was expected of me. Of being who they all wanted me to be. That’s why I don’t regret letting her walk. Because it felt like the first time I’d done something for myself.”

You’re silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. You understand the weight of expectations; the pressure to be something different. The need to escape the mold other people had created for you. To steal back any bit of control you could, even if it put a wrench in things for others.

John huffs out humorless laugh, shaking his head.  “Just... I wish I hadn’t gotten it all so wrong.”

Your voice is a gentle counterpoint to the weary acceptance in his when you respond. “I won’t deny that you made quite a few mistakes to get here, but when you aren’t given the room when you’re small, you make worse ones when you’re grown. Your country put you under the emotional equivalent of a hydraulic press and then had the nerve to dump you at the first sign of fracture."

The weight of your assertion hits close to home. Your insight into his life—his struggles—is unsettlingly accurate, almost uncanny. You see right through all the bravado and defensiveness, straight to the root of the wounds that might not ever heal.

"I..." he starts, voice hoarse, "I never really thought of it that way." He takes a beat, observing your expression carefully. "Is that what it was like for you? In the Red Room?"

Your focus falls to the floor again at his question. The memories of the Red Room— the pain, the isolation, the never-ending missions— flash through your mind. You take a deep, steadying breath, gathering the strength to give him a piece of yourself in return, something more than a flippant remark.

"In a way," you reply quietly. "I was an orphan in the middle of a war-torn country when they snatched me up, and suddenly I wasn’t alone anymore. I felt a duty to them, even if I didn’t agree with it. They told me who I was, what I was supposed to do, when I was supposed to do it. And I did it perfectly."

John listens intently, the furrow of his brow deepening as you explain. He hesitates for a moment, considering his next words. "But you fought back eventually, didn't you? Broke free." He says it with so much hope, as if he doesn’t already know how your story ends.

"That’s the funny thing," you scoff, "I didn’t. Not from the Red Room at least. I knew I was different, a mutant. And I managed to hide that from them for a long time. I was the best they had then, but the second I couldn’t hide my power anymore, they pawned me off to Hydra. I felt betrayed."

John can’t imagine what hiding must have been like, having to walk through life in fear of being found out, when you’re the strongest person he knows. He’s endlessly impressed by the way you’ve taken the way they trained you and turned it into something that’s all your own. Your brutality is an expression of love. Your criticism is borne out of care. That you give everyone on the team these pieces of yourself over and over, never letting them give in return. You’re so much more than what they made you, but he doesn’t know how to tell you. He realizes he’s been staring too long— captivated by the line of your jaw, the unguarded look in your eye, and the soft curve of your lips— and clears his throat, his gaze dropping from your face.

"Do you ever think..." he falters, the words sticking in his throat. "Do you ever think that maybe if we’d met under different circumstances… we wouldn’t have been such assholes to each other?"

Your eyes narrow curiously. His question hangs in the air, an unexpected deviation. The last time you heard him say anything so sincere was when you were barely cleared from your deathbed. You search him for any hint of falsehood or sarcasm, but find only the same sincerity from that night. You consider his question for a moment.

"I doubt it," you say bluntly, the familiar sharp edge in your tone returning. "We’re both stubborn, and we get on each other’s nerves, and… you make me want to stab you more often than not," you pause, eyeing him up and down, your gaze calculating. "But you know, we don’t have to wait for another life to be different."

He chuckles at your honesty, expecting nothing less, raising an eyebrow at your words. "What, you think some miracle’s gonna happen and suddenly we’ll stop pissing each other off?"

His genuine laugh is the last straw, making your knees feel weak with an emotion you don’t want to stifle by naming. You prop your palms behind you on the counter, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, your robe shifting.

"Or maybe it’s worth looking into a different method to shut each other up," you taunt, low and tinged with that playful sarcasm you’ve mastered.

John scoffs, rolling his eyes, anything to not look at you right now. He’s used to your teasing, your mockery, and at first, he thinks that’s all this is. But then, he realizes you’re looking at him the same way you did that day in the gym, the memory of you underneath him flashing in his head. Still not entirely sure what’s happening, he takes a cautious step towards where you’re sitting on the counter, crowding into your personal space. He leans in, hands braced on the marble on either side of you.

You tense at the proximity, eyes flickering over his face, the disbelief. You’re caught off guard by the raw intensity of the moment, the sudden shift from the solemn conversation to the magnetic pull between you. Then, he drags one hand up your thigh, robe falling out of his way.

"John…" you rasp out, your breathier than you’d like, his given name a halfhearted warning. You can feel your pulse thrumming faster, cheeks flushing. He’s so close, his body warm and solid over you. The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body responds to his touch, ignites something deep within him, and he can’t keep it locked away any longer.

"You gonna tell me to stop?" His hand on your thigh moves higher, his thumb continuing its lazy circles, inching under the hem of your robe. Your breath hitches, heat pooling low in your stomach, mind at war over the urge to either pull back or give in. You know it should be the former, that you need to maintain the boundary, no matter how fragile. But the feel of his touch, the way he's looking at you... it's like you’re caught in his gravitational pull.

"This…" you manage in a low voice, "is a bad idea." John can see the hesitation in your eyes, the battle between desire and sense. But he can also feel you pressing into his touch, see the flush in your cheeks.

“Maybe it is,” he murmurs, his hand drifting higher, his fingers precariously close to your inner thigh. Your legs part for him like it’s second nature. “But does it matter?”

You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, can feel the heat of his breath across your skin. Every rational thought vanishes from your mind, replaced by a rush of heated anticipation so intense that you can’t think straight.

“John,” you whisper again, but it’s not a warning. It’s permission. The sound of his name is like a spark to gasoline.

And he’s gone.

John’s mouth crashes into yours, hungry, desperate, impatient. You’ve been dancing around each other for months— longer than he’s even willing to admit to himself.

The stress practically bleeds from your shoulders as you kiss him back, like you’re relieved, giving him just as much as he’s giving you. It's all teeth and tongue, his grip on your waist tight enough to make you wish the bruises would stay. His other hand tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, cradling your head gently.

He groans as you pull him closer, the sound horribly needy, and he’d be embarrassed in any other situation. Your bow into his touch, legs encircling his hips and pinning him between your thighs. He nips at your bottom lip, catching the sound of your gasp and licking into your mouth. He’s been dying to taste you again since that day on the mat.

Your pulse races as John changes course and his lips move down your jaw, and you can sense how his heart speeds up to match yours. He lingers at the sensitive spot under your left ear, sucking and nipping until you’re pulling him to your waiting mouth. He hauls you up, and in one swift movement he’s carrying you down the hall.

He gets you to his room in record speed, every step fueled by desperate need, slamming the door shut behind you. He wastes no time, pinning you to it, your back pressed firmly against the wood. He captures your mouth in another kiss, hard and needy and you can’t get enough.

Wandering hands explore him further, slipping under his t-shirt and grazing over the ridges of his abs, tracing the trail of hair under his navel to the waistband of his sweatpants. In return, John tugs at the tie of your robe hastily until he can push it off your shoulders, and you shuck it away, revealing nothing underneath but your— very obviously soaked— panties. He crowds you, grinding his hips into yours so you can feel exactly what you’re doing to him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Red,” he groans.

“I—" you breathe, little more than a whine as you tug at his sweatpants. “I need you. Now.”

Biting back another embarrassing sound, he turns and crosses the room to his bed, tossing you onto the sheets. He pulls away to just look at you for a moment, staring like he’s committing you to memory. His gaze roams over you slowly, the curve of your waist, the flush of red on your chest, and the hitch of your breathing.

"You're so beautiful," he husks, laced with awe.

Then, he’s straightening out and tugging his shirt over his head, and you’re able to make your stunned reaction to him calling you beautiful look like it’s about him undressing instead. His chest is more sun-kissed than you were expecting, subtle freckles dotted across his shoulders. A set of dog tags rest on a thin chain at the center of his chest, framed by lean muscle on all sides. None of his strength is for show, meticulously honed over his years of service and there long before any serums. His pants are stripped off next, and he wastes no more time before crawling over you. He’s straining in his boxers, aching for you, his mouth finding yours again with fervor.

His hands and lips are everywhere, and it’s so much all at once. You’ve been alone and cold and untouched for so long and now, finally, you’re letting yourself have him. You’ve never been held like this, never felt wanted like this, like he can't breathe without you. You’re not supposed to want this, want him. But God, you do. More than anything else in the world.

Your head falls against his pillows, savoring the weight of him over you. The touch of his lips, his beard scraping your skin, all heighten the buzz running through your body, so much better than any of your fantasies. His cock is hard and insistent against your thigh, practically begging for your attention.

You arch your back, pressing your chest to his, a command for more. There’s something feral in the way he responds, hands cupping your breasts, squeezing firmly. He can’t get enough of you. He kisses you hungrily, his hands gliding across your sides, your shoulder blades, everywhere, desperate to touch as much skin as possible. His lips find your neck again, leaving hot, wet kisses that trail down your torso, detouring only to lap over each peaked nipple with dedication. He continues lower, his nose burying into your navel, inhaling deeply. He glances up at you, his eyes clouded with desire, the question on the tip of his tongue. You beat him to it, spreading your legs wilder, beckoning him closer.

"You wanna taste me, baby?" you purr.

John feels the heat in his gut flare at your words, your voice, your body. His tongue traces a path over your hip bone, down to your inner thigh. He takes a moment to marvel at the wet patch on your panties, pressing a kiss over the soaked cotton before urging them down your legs and flinging them to some forgotten corner of the room.

He’s homed in on your dripping cunt, and you swear he licks his lips. "Oh, I'm gonna devour you, Red."

He gets on his knees at the foot of the bed, pulling you to the edge by your hips, and tosses your thighs over his shoulders. He starts agonizingly slow, his tongue tracing slow circles through your folds, teasing, savoring. It doesn’t take you long to realize he knows exactly what he's doing, and it’s unexpected, but you’re sure as hell not about to complain. Every sound that slips from your lips only encourages him further, determined to prove something to you that he can’t quite put a name to. He alternates between broad, languid strokes and focused, pointed flicks, finding all the right spots that make you grind your cunt into his mouth.

“John,” you gasp again, hands tangling in his hair, your grip unrelenting. “You’re so good at this… so fucking good.” You swear you can feel him fighting a smug smile between your legs. But before you can call him on it, John flattens one hand over your lower stomach, holding your hips down, while the other circles your entrance. He teases only for a moment, sliding one finger, and then another inside. Your thighs clamp around his head as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them at just the right spots, his pace relentless. He watches you through it all, completely mesmerized by the way you look, how he’s the one making you feel so good.

“That’s it, baby—“ you sigh, the endearment slipping out without a thought. “Fuck. Keep going.” You’re a trembling wreck, your senses overwhelmed by his skilled tongue. The coil of pleasure tightens inside you, a breadth away from snapping. It’s so much, minding your reactions slips your mind, the moans and curses coming freely now. You’re incredibly vocal, constantly singing his praises, trailing off into unintelligible cries that only serve to push him further.

“I’m so close,” you choke out, “you’re gonna make me come.”

So fucking close.

And then, he does something with his fingers, a subtle crook as his lips wrap around your clit, and that's it. You shatter, your body arching off the bed, head thrown back, a strangled cry escaping you.

"J-John," you weep, shaking with the force of your orgasm. "Oh my god, fuck, so good.” John doesn’t let up, lapping at your cunt to draw out your high for as long he can. You have to pull him away once the overstimulation kicks in, reluctant to part with the taste of your release. The soft praises, the way you’d cried his name ringing in his ears, his cock uncomfortably hard, just from eating you out.

His eyes roam over your form, taking in the sight of you, debauched and flushed, chest heaving with each ragged breath. He doesn’t deserve this. Deserve you.

You lie there, still gushing through the aftershocks, your mind fuzzy and utterly sated. Every nerve ending crackles with electricity, your breathing shallow, skin damp with sweat. It feels like your body has been wrung out and put back together again in the best possible way.

You glance at John who’s patiently waiting for you to come down, but you catch the hint of doubt etched into his brow. Not regret, but the shadow of inadequacy. It brings a momentary gloom over you, baffled by how he could be insecure after giving you the best orgasm of your life.

“I take back what I said about you going down.” You grab his hand, the one that’s still covered in your cum, pulling him closer before he can wallow any longer. John goes willingly, his body settling over yours, and his eyes go wide as you bring his damp fingers to your mouth, tongue darting out to clean yourself off of them. “I guess your mouth is good for things other than running it.”

Your lips find his next, tasting more of your pleasure on his tongue and in his beard. He’s wound tight, the hunger thrumming beneath his skin, but the feeling of your kiss— and your characteristically vulgar compliments— settles the doubt within him.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” you continue, pulling him into you with your legs around his waist. He rolls his hips yours, grinding his leaking cock brushing your cunt, both of you chasing that friction.

"You’re so goddamn perfect," he murmurs against your lips, rough with need. His hips speed up, soaking up the wetness at the apex of your thighs, even though the barrier of his boxers.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

You flip your positions suddenly and swiftly, just like that day in the gym, straddling his hips. Your weight settles over him, tugging his waistband down until his length is freed from the stifling cotton. That day, you’d felt him through his sweats, made up a picture in your mind of what he’d look like underneath. But nothing compares to seeing him in the flesh.

Your hands wander over him, appreciating every contour of muscle, every scar— even the one near his ribcage that was very likely your doing— every faint freckle that dots his shoulders. The way you caress him is firm and deliberate, and you’re lost in the moment, the reality of what’s between you settling heavily over your head.

John watches through half-lidded eyes, the rise and fall of his chest shaky as your lips and teeth trail over his chest. You leave little marks in your wake, making sure to leave your brand on him, even if he can’t do the same on you. He feels the shift too, and he’s terrified, but he never seems to know when to keep his mouth shut around you.

"I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” he confesses suddenly. “You wouldn’t even give me the time of day back then." He knows it was wrong, that he was supposed to be happily married at the time, and it was something he never intended to act on.

And then, fate— better known as Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine— shoved you back together and locked you in a bunker and forced you to make nice to stay alive. He never thought it would actually end with you in his bed.

"That was three years ago,” you point out, his admission still sinking in. Your heart hammers in your chest, the reality of this hitting you in full and all at once. The depth of the desires he’s been denying, the need you’ve been ignoring.

"I’ve been holding back for years." John pushes himself up on his elbows, leaning against the headboard to be level with you. You’re both in anticipation as you scramble for the right way to respond, wide-eyed and entirely focused on the other.

“Stop holding back.”

And your wish is his command. He relaxes at the tentative acceptance of his feelings, and it’s more than enough when he’s still not sure how to describe them. He leans into you, and this time his kiss is slower, thorough. Your thighs cage his in, all of you on display just for him, his cock throbbing as you start to move your hips. He almost can’t handle the feeling, and he tries to ground himself as to not come in three seconds, and a different issue occurs to him instead.

“Are you on the pill— or something? Or do I need…” he trails off, wondering if he even has any. There’s been no one since or before Olivia, no reasons to be prepared.

Your stomach drops, John’s question sobering in a way you know he didn’t intend. You hadn’t really considered the fact that he was unaware of the Red Room’s ‘graduation ceremony’. It’s been such a constant in your life for decades— less of a sore spot and more of a mild ache that flares up on occasion— but one that doesn’t often cross your mind anymore. A bitter laugh almost escapes you, but you bite it back. You know you don’t technically owe him an explanation, but you decide he deserves one.

“I’m not— but—“ you start, faltering on how to put it into words without completely ruining the moment. “I can’t— I don’t have the equipment.”

John is struck still by the disclosure, his hands pausing where they were gliding over your sternum. It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what you’ve said, but then his eyes flick down, spotting the faint scar that runs vertically through your lower stomach. He puts together the pieces that he should have realized before now.

“It wasn’t my choice but— it’s fine, it was a long time ago,” you insist. It happened before the serums that made you invulnerable, making it permanent. You want him to trust that it’s safe, but don’t want to talk about it, don’t want to linger on another thing that they took from you— autonomy. 

“Red—“ he starts, and you mistake his concerned tone for pity, interrupting him before he can continue.

“Don’t worry about it,” you plead. “I’m fine. I want to feel you.” You’re desperate for this to not turn into another therapy session, so you try to resume the friction with a shift of your hips, but his grip holds you still.

You say it all so flippantly, like it doesn’t matter, and he has to forcibly stop the groan that’s building in his chest as you rock against him. The need to make you forget everything that’s ever been done to you is overwhelming. His grip loosens, no longer possessive or rough, and he runs his knuckles over the sensitive skin of your stomach, meant as a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry they did this to you, sweetheart.”

His voice is so warm. Your heart swells at the use of the term— so tender and familiar, so at odds with everything you feel you are— and you want more. But he’s still looking at you with worry, like what happened doesn’t sit right with him.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to think, I just want this… you.”

He can't deny you anything, not now. He has to give you what you need, and it’s this. Him.

You need him.

“You have me, Red. You have me.”

His grip on your hips loosens, no longer holding you in place but lightly kneading your flesh. You’re moving again, but it all feels heavier now, and you keep the pace languid, looking into his eyes. He’s content to give you the control, his body moving on your lead, driven by a need to make it good for you.

It’s not until you decide you’ve reduced him into a desperate mess underneath you that you finally change course, angling your hips so that the tip of his cock catches your entrance. His hips jerk and he can’t help it, driving up into you, groaning into your mouth. His hand tangles in your hair and you echo his sounds as you sink down on him, the stretch euphoric.

"God, you’re perfect," he growls, “you’re so goddamn perfect." The feeling of being inside you, of losing himself in you… it isn’t something he’d ever thought he’d experience, something he can’t put into words.

You lean up to capture his mouth, your tongue sliding over his, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting him as close as you can get him. The world around them disappears, nothing but the feel of him inside you, the taste of his moans on your tongue.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “You feel so good, filling me up so well, so deep."

Your little praises and the curses are more than enough to drive him crazy. He can’t think, thrusting up into your heat on pure instinct. He’s never felt like this, with anyone, like he’s enough. And as you gasp his name, your face clouded with pleasure, it hits him like a ton of bricks.

“I can't get enough of you," he pleads without any clear request. "Can't get you out of my head, out of my system…."

You can feel it building in your body, the heat and sensation coiling tight, pleasure building as you ride him vigorously, thighs flexing, your hands on his shoulders for leverage. You set a rougher pace, lost in him, drowning in the sounds he’s making. He kisses you again, mouth hungry and demanding. You can feel him growing closer, the way his rhythm is turning erratic, his blood is pumping, and you know he’s on the edge.

You cup his face, making him look at you, the words coming out in gasps of breath, “You’re so close, aren’t you? Are you gonna come for me?"

His eyes snap open, his expression raw and primal, his body coiled tight. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip firmly, leaving bruises that heal quicker than he can make them over and over, but it only adds to your bliss.

He cries out your name, thick with emotion. “Please.”

The word hangs in the air. He’s asking for something more than just this physical moment. You trace his swollen, kiss-reddened lips with your thumb.

“Please, what?”

He closes his eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his body trembling under yours.

“Please,” he repeats, a ragged whisper, his lips brushing against your neck, “please don’t leave me… don’t leave me, please.”

He’s not sure he can bear the answer, but he needs you to know, to understand, that he needs you in a way that’s so much more than this moment. You suck in a breath, the words catching you off balance, your heart constricting in your chest. You want to tell him you won’t, that he’s stuck with you, just as much as you’re stuck with him. But the words stick in your throat, the truth feeling too big, too real. Instead, you wrap your arms around him, holding him close, pressed up against him, wordlessly offering yourself.

You’re giving him something he didn’t know he even needed, something comforting and safe and he doesn’t remember ever feeling this known before. He buries his face deeper into your neck, a small shudder running down his body. It���s too much, too intense, but he can’t stop it, can’t hold back.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, “baby, can I— please…” Your name on his lips, the low pleading, almost desperate edge to his voice.

“Go on. Inside.”

That simple, filthy command— it’s all it takes for him to snap, and his orgasm is crashing over him. It triggers yours a moment later, the way he’s filling you and the gravely way he cries out completely irresistible. Your name is on his lips, foreheads pressed together as you both come.

“Red… Baby, baby… God. You’re — You’re so good, you’re so goddamn perfect.”

John lays his head on your shoulder, snuggled close, the heat between you cooling to a simmer. You’re both still shaking slightly, the last waves washing over, and you stay this way for what could be hours, your fingers gently running through his hair.

You’re so goddamn perfect.

It rings in your head over and over, and you’re not sure if you want him to say it again or if you even want to respond at all. You don’t know what to do about this feeling, this feeling of wanting more.

He’s not moving, not yet, not ready to lose this contact, this moment. He’s always been a straightforward person, but all he can think of is how damn good this feels, your fingers brushing in his hair, the way you hold him, your praises echoing in his mind.

He finally lifts his head, moving just enough so that he can look at you. And he’s not expecting what he sees.

Your eyes are welling with tears.

Red flags are screaming in his head at the sight of your tears, his mind flashing over all of the ways that he could have hurt you, if he’s pushed too hard, if your wounds are still too fresh. He pulls back, panic making him tense. “Baby? Why are you—“

“I’m not sad,” you reassure him quickly, giving him a watery laugh, shaky as you reach up to dab at your eyes. Two months ago, you probably would have killed him for seeing you like this. That time seems so far away right now. “It was just— a lot, that’s all. I’m not sad, I promise.” And you mean it— you’re not sad, you’re completely overwhelmed with a million different emotions you don’t know how to deal with. You look at him, the concern on his face so unusual and sweet that you can’t help smiling.

“I’m not normally like this, I just— I was expecting a quick hate-fuck, not…” you trail off, terrified to be the one to voice the feelings first.

His concern eases slightly at your admission, his brow still furrowed with worry, but he lets out a shaky laugh. He had been thinking the same, a quick roll in the sheets and the usual brush-off he’s used to. He hadn’t been expecting you to let him past your defenses, or for every damn thing you say and do to make him want you more and more.

He reaches a hand up to your cheek, gently stroking away the tears from your skin. His hand is tentative, as if he’s unsure he’s doing the right thing.

“Maybe it’s a surprise for both of us.” His eyes roam over your face, taking in the way you look, all flushed and sated. “Can I— can I hold you?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the question, your heart fluttering like an over-excited kid. You’d never allowed yourself something so soft, not since you can ever remember, and you’re terrified of how much you want it.

Your response is low, like you’re trying to make sure you don’t scare anyone away. “Please. Yes.”

Relief washes over him, the tension in his body disappearing. He gently pulls you into his arms, settling against the pillows, shifting until you’re lying on his chest. Pulling the blankets over your tangled forms, John runs a hand through your hair, his touch so incredibly tender it feels foreign.

You tuck your head under his jaw, wanting to be as close as possible to listen to and feel the beat of his heart. He’s holding you like you’re something precious, something worth caring for, and it makes your throat tight again.

He’s quiet for a long time, his fingers tracing absent lines across your scalp.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks. “What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”

You’re caught so off guard by the question that you burst into a fit of laughter. You pull away so that you can look up at him, the question completely unexpected.

“That’s what you want to know right now?” you ask, an eyebrow raised quizzically at the question. “My favorite kind of ice cream?”

The sound of your laugh is like music, sending a jolt through his chest, and you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He grins down at you, his gaze filled with something adoration.

“Yup.” He grins wider at your skepticism. “Ice cream. It’ll be important for when I take you out.”

Your stomach does a flip. When.

You’ve never been one to entertain anything like the idea of a relationship, too caught up in life-or-death situations or your own baggage and grief to even consider the possibility.

“Neapolitan,” you answer simply, biting your lip to keep yourself from looking too enthusiastic. He can see it on your face, the way your expression turns sentimental at the thought of it.

“Neapolitan, huh? I should’ve guessed. You seem like the kind to have trouble making decisions.”

You playfully smack his shoulder, scoffing. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean? Let’s hear your favorite, then.”

His face contorts into a borderline theatrical facade of pain, his hand moving up to rub dramatically at his arm.

“Rocky road,” he says, trying not to crack while feigning hurt. “It’s a classic. And apparently, a sign of a stubborn personality.”

“So, I’m indecisive, but your favorite ice cream is the one with the most crap in it?” You rest fully on his chest, wanting to be closer to him, wanting to soak in the feeling of his touch. “It’s overcompensating,” you tease, tinged with affection.

He lets out a quiet oomph as you lean against him, his arm shifting to wrap more securely around your back as he brings you closer. The boyish smirk on his face grows at your obvious teasing. “It’s not overcompensating,” he argues, full of mock protest, “I think you just experienced firsthand how much I’m not overcompensating, actually. Compensating perfectly adequately.”

You can’t help but snort at that, your head lifting to see the self-satisfied grin on his face. It’s so unexpected, the banter, the lighthearted flirting. But it feels good, so good, in a way you didn’t know you were capable of.

“Oh sure,” you say dryly. “So, when are you taking me out then?”

His hand runs up and down your spine, his touch gentle, touch is so light it’s almost ticklish. “Tomorrow night.” His tone is so soft, so different from how he normally speaks. “There’s this barbeque place not too far from here, pretty good for New York,” he scoffs. “And then, ice cream.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and for once you have no witty retort. Because he’s making plans. With you. For a real, actual date.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “That sounds… nice.”

He’s not sure how this is happening, but he’s sure as hell not about to question it now. “It’s a date, baby.”

You once thought the strangest thing you’d ever done was go through space and back in time to resurrect your friends. But really, it’s feeling safe and happy wrapped up in the arms of John Walker, and agreeing to go out on a date.

“You know the team is going to never let us live this down, right?”

That gets more laughter to bubble out of him, a wide, genuine smile on his face as the thought of the team seeing you together hits him. You’re right, of course. They’re gonna have a field day with this, and he’s going to have to take the brunt of their trades, because most of them are still   a little bit scared of you.

He presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, smile lingering. “Think we can keep it to ourselves for a little while? Just us?”

You aren’t used to asking for things, but you want this, and you let herself be honest with yourself for once. “They mean well, and probably already have a betting pool running behind our backs— but I don’t want them to mess this up before we can figure it out.”

John nods, his own heart swelling at your words. This. He wants this too, more than he’s ever wanted anything, and he’s not ready to share it with anyone else.

“They’ll notice something is up if we aren’t constantly at each other’s throats, you know,” you add, a reminder that only a few hours ago the two of you had been feigning hate for each other for months.

John chuckles, because if anyone knows how hard you’ve been denying the truth, it’s yourselves. He’s not ashamed to admit that it was a bit like pulling teeth, lashing out at you when all he could think about was kissing you senseless.

“I’m sure we’ll still find enough to bicker over to make it look convincing.”

You’ve never wanted someone, not like this, and you know he’ll be able to see it all over your face if he looks. So, you bury your head into the crook of his neck, trying to hide the way you’re beaming as you respond. “We do a rather good job of hating each other, usually.”

He gently lifts your chin, tilting your face up so that he can see you clearly. He's not letting you hide, amused by how damn obvious you are, a reprieve from your typical cold demeanor.

“Don’t you dare hide from me, Red.”

You aren’t used to feeling so exposed. Your forehead rests against his, John’s hand moving to cup your cheek as you lean in, responding with a kiss gentler than the ones you’ve shared previously.

His breath catches at the soft brush of your lips, at the feeling of you under his hands.

“Say you’ll be here in the morning.”

You can hear his sincerity, the sound of it going straight to your heart. 

You smile, an unfamiliar and tender smile, so delicate it’s like sharing a secret.

“I’ll be here in the morning.”

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Out of frame 2/4

Summary : Y/N and Lando Norris have been together for three years. Their relationship is real, steady, and full of quiet love but always behind the scenes. While fans know they’re a couple, Lando has never posted about her, avoids public displays of affection, and never mentions her in interviews. At first, Y/N understood. She believed it was about privacy, about protecting what they had. But over time, being constantly left out of frame has started to hurt.

Genre : angst, SMAU

Pairing : Lando Norris x reader

Faceclaim : @suanbeiii

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

@landonorris 📍Tokyo, Japan

Incredible night. Thank you to everyone who came out to support us. Big things coming 🫡

@_user1 he really posted all his friends but not his gf again... yikes

@_user2 is Y/N not in Japan with him? 😭

@_user3 nah this is getting embarrassing at this point. she literally always supports him and he can’t even tag her once??

@_user4 QUADRANT IN JAPAN LET’S GOOOO🔥

@_user5 the helmet is SICK omg 🔥

@_user6 weird how he never has a problem posting the boys 👀

@_user8 so hyped for this drop!! love seeing quadrant going global 💥

@_user10 where’s the queen?? y’all okay??

@_user11 y/n deserves a man who posts her like she posts him. period.

@your_username 📍Monaco

Girls can buy themself flowers too 💐

@_user1 wait. no japan trip for y/n this time?

@_user2 something’s off. they never miss a race weekend together 😶

@_user3 how is she real 😭😭 Lando you better be sending her flowers too!!

@_user4 the softest prettiest queen 🩷 Lando won the lottery and acts like he forgot

@_user5 Lando… be fr. how do you not post HER???

@_user6 she looks like a dream. if my gf looked like this I’d post her every 5 minutes lol

@_user7 you’re literally the prettiest person I’ve ever seen I can’t even hate you I’m obsessed 🥲

@_user8 i don’t care what’s going on but if he lets her go… we need to talk, Lando 😭

@_user9 okay but where do I sign up to be your girlfriend if Lando’s slacking??

@_user10 I hope he knows what he has. because the rest of us DO.

Texts messages

Lando You didn’t like the flowers I sent you?

Lando Seriously, Y/N? That post? What is that supposed to mean?

Y/N It means exactly what it says.

Lando So you ignore my apology and post something that makes it look like I did something wrong ?

Y/N You sent flowers. That’s not an apology, Lando. It’s a gesture. A pretty one, but not what I needed.

Lando You always want more. It’s never enough with you.

Y/N Because you don’t listen. I told you how I felt and you acted like I was being dramatic. I didn’t ask for a parade. Just for you to acknowledge me

Lando So you skip the race, don’t say a word for days, and make me look like an idiot online?

Y/N I said I had work.

Lando No. You said “don’t worry about it.” That’s code for “figure it out or I’m gone,” right?

Y/N You want to talk about code? Because not posting me, not bringing me up, not defending me when people speculate, THAT’s a message too.

Lando I thought keeping us private protected you

Y/N It doesn’t feel like protection, it makes me feel like a secret

Lando This again…

Y/N Yes. Again. Because you keep brushing it off like I’m asking you to tattoo my name on your forehead

Lando You want public affection. Fine. But maybe you could’ve talked to me instead of putting it on Instagram?

Y/N I tried to talk. You shut down. You always do.

Lando Because every time I mess up, you make me feel like I’m never enough

Y/N And every time I open up, you make me feel like I'm too much

Lando Right. Okay. Here we go.

Y/N Yeah. Here we go. Again. You don’t want to make the effort? That’s fine. Your loss.

Lando You know that’s not fair

Y/N Neither is loving someone who makes you feel invisible

Lando I have a race to focus on.

Y/N Enjoy it, Lando.

Lando Sure.

@F1LiveMoments 🎥Live interview moment of Lando at the Japan GP

Interviewer: “We didn’t see your girlfriend this weekend, is she not in Japan with you?” Lando Norris: laughs “Which girlfriend?”

@_user1 nah “which girlfriend” is CRAZY??? like are you trying to be single or stupid 😭

@_user2 he really said that on live TV… with a mic… and a camera… okay.

@_user3 and this is the man she’s been flying around the world to support in silence 💀

@_user4 he better deactivate, apologize and send 400 roses

@_user6 this girl has been nothing but quiet and supportive and he humiliates her like that? I’d be GONE.

@_user7 you can’t be “private” and also crack jokes like that… pick a struggle 😐

@_user8 and then men will say “why is she upset with me” like sir… you said WHICH GIRLFRIEND

@_user9 his media training just packed its bags and left the building

@_user10 @your_username deserves BETTER. we’re all saying it.

@_user12 this man’s idea of romance is “which girlfriend” I can’t breathe 😭😭😭

@your_username 📍Monaco

Sunday ritual 🧡

@_user1 she still supports him after that interview?? I’d be EMBARRASSED

@_user2 baby you didn’t see the clip, right?? pls say you didn’t

@_user3 I have to respect the loyalty but girl… the way he said “which girlfriend” like it was nothing 🤡

@_user4 wait… WHY is she still watching him like this?? I’m actually speechless

@_user5 this is such a sweet post but… after that live interview 😬

@_user6 girl did you see the interview from yesterday 💀

@your_username which interview?

@_user9 oh no oh no oh no 😭😭😭 she doesn’t KNOW

@_user10 this one comment just ended their relationship for real

@_user12 NAH IM SCARED. SOMEONE TAKE HER PHONE AWAY

@_user13 Lando better call her RIGHT NOW because this is about to go so bad

Texts messages :

Y/N “Which girlfriend?” Are you fucking serious right now?

Y/N Was that funny to you? Was humiliating me on live TV was what you needed?

Y/N You really went out there and said that like we’re nothing. Like I never existed.

Lando Y/N... Don’t do this.

Y/N Don’t do what, Lando? Get mad that my boyfriend made a joke like he doesn’t even know me?

Lando You didn’t want to come to Japan. You literally said you needed space What was I supposed to do?

Y/N NOT JOKE THAT YOU HAVE MULTIPLE GIRLFRIENDS ON LIVE TV MAYBE? Just a thought.

Lando It was sarcasm. The interviewer caught me off guard

Y/N No, what caught you off guard was the reality of being called out for once

Lando I didn’t mean it like that

Y/N You never do. That’s the problem.

Y/N Everything’s a joke or a deflection or a fucking PR-safe answer You don't even realize how much it hurt. You made me feel invisible

Lando You ghosted me for a week. You turned down my calls, ignored my flowers, and posted some cryptic caption like I never tried

Y/N Because sending flowers isn’t trying, Lando. It’s damage control

Y/N I was begging for real effort, for presence, for proof that I matter to you

Y/N And you know what you gave me? A joke about having multiple girlfriends ??

Lando It was a stupid moment. I panicked

Y/N God, do you even hear yourself?

Y/N You panicked and defaulted to disrespect. That says more than anything

Lando Okay well maybe if you were actually there we could have talked like normal people.

Y/N Don’t flip this on me.

Y/N I didn’t come because I was hurt, Lando. I needed space to breathe, not to be mocked globally

Y/N You know how hard it’s been? I kept telling myself you just needed time, that you were scared. Or shy. Or private

Y/N But maybe you were just comfortable keeping me secret, comfortable not choosing me when it’s inconvenient

Lando That’s not true.

Y/N Then prove it

Lando I’m trying to...

Y/N Trying would’ve been not letting those words leave your mouth.

Lando I messed up, okay? I didn’t think. I was tired and pissed...

Y/N No. You chose the words.

Y/N Enjoy the rest of Japan. Don’t worry about me.

Lando Y/N…

Y/N No. Fuck you, Norris.

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @hi26loveie, @bunnisplayground, @nina481, @reallifemermaidprincess, @cars-and-frogs, @delululeclerc, @txmhxllqnd, @lydia-demarek, @destinyg237, @rhaenyrasversion, @sarascabiosa, @readz4u, @tvdtw4ever, @mynameisangeloflife, @teti-menchon0604, @suns3treading, @op814kitty, @prettyboyroseberg, @willowsnook, @ariesandwolves, @clarksgf, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @pinklemonade34, @fat-meh, @tiaajosephin, @landosbabe4, @easy4, @jule239, @mercrussell, @skylandori, @ryuucollapse, @nickie-amore, @fairyjinn, @seonaw, @mattslovelygf, @strawberrylov-er, @linnygirl09, @dilflover44, @bell1a, @f1fantasys, @sillyfreakfanparty, @janonymus0, @taetae-armyyyyy, @charlesgirl16, @angstynasty, @jules-bea2308, @afternoonarchive, @itsbieberxholland, @rexit-mo, @chlmtfilms, @vampgege, @mochimommy2002, @budgetcupid, @lemon-stvrrr, @bell1a, @taebearyoongs, @hazzasmunchkin, @sainz0fthetimes, @didaaa4, @madelyn2000, @il0vereadingstuff, @march32nd, @chlmtfilms, @literallysza, @cheapdocmartens, @wolfstarsimpxx, @pretzelcat4-blog, @larya810, @6-noir, @urfavftoomie, @ficr3ccs, @strawberrylov-er, @wosof1, @behindmygreyeyes, @justheretoreadthxxs, @pinklemonade34, @ninass-world, @landosbabe4, @leclercdream, @raynetargaryan2

[gayofthefae]

Screen time reminder that every time Mike and Will are together they're one on one almost the entire time, except for the the occasions Mike was "ignoring" him aka still spending all his screen time with him but with other people there. The only time they were apart was season 1 and Mike talked about him the whole time.

Meanwhile Mike and El's screentime is almost exclusively in a group setting (again, something considered so crazy and offensive to Byler that it consistently builds to them having fights about it because it is so different from normal), and they spend 2 entire seasons apart without contact with one if not both of their main plotlines not even mentioning the other during that time.

And just because I've counted and mentioned it before, I will also be noting that the number of episodes in which Mike and El are romantically together, physically together, AND happy (in the context of their relationship, I am not factoring supernatural stress) is.............three. 3. 1x08, 3x01, and 4x09. In all other episodes they are not yet dating, broken up, only pretending to be happy, or openly fighting. We also only really see them one on one when it is meant to upset other people - s1 Lucas, s3 Hopper, s4 Will and consistently in those scenes themselves those characters are revealed to be upsetedly observing the one on one scene.

The show itself dedicated its screentime to saying:

"Mike and Will are like a couple: happy spending lots of time together one on one and unhappy when they don't. Similar to the screen time of Jancy, Jopper, and Lumax."

"Mike and El are like friends: happy spending lots of time together in a group with occasional one on ones. Similar to how they are seen interacting with other party members. Mike, for example, is very close with Lucas and Dustin but mostly spends time with them in groups with only the occasional one on one with Lucas in season 3 and Dustin in season 4. But this does not undercut the fact that they are still deeply close."

In screen time is divided and awarded, Mike and Will are treated like the couples. Mike and El are treated like any two members of the party - any two friends.

And I would like to repeat one more time because this is the real new observation and it's a crazy contrast:

The primary way Mike and El spend time together, even portrayed as romantic build up at times, when applied to Mike and Will, deeply upsets the characters in how distant and unromantic it is, to the point of it repeatedly almost tearing apart their relationship.

Remind me again the last time you saw the claim by a show that if the best friends were to act like the "endgame" romantic interests they would feel not close enough to each other? Oh right, never.

Impersonating your "main couple" for a few days almost tore real love interests apart at the seams. Will thinks he wants Mike to treat him how he treats El, but Mike has before and Will HATED it because of how deeply platonic and romantically rejecting it felt.

In screentime, this is El when Mike treats her, as I described, how he might treat Lucas or Dustin.

And this is Will when Mike treats him the same

Gee I wonder what the ideal nature of their relationships to create a happy ending would be...

I also acknowledge the specifics of the behavior are different but with that once again, it's all about associations. With that behavior, they are associating that negativity with a lack of one on one time between Mike and Will. And, of course, because it is so abnormal for them, the only thing that would motivate that distance in the first place for Mike would be that snarkiness or avoidance. El is happy because to Mike, that is closeness with her so he is doing well. Will is unhappy because to Mike, that is distance from him so he is being avoidant.

They also consistently associate one on ones with El with unhappiness in a way that Will does not experience them.

Mike treating Will like El makes Will feel discarded and distanced from. Mike treating El like Will makes her feel forced and lied to.

Because that is what's happening. We aren't the only ones correctly assessing that that behavior is wrong and that is why what works for one does not work for the other. They are observing Mike correctly, that he is putting in effort to do those things. Will feels Mike actively pushing away and El feels the effort required of him to force himself closer. They can feel that these are not relaxed decisions or passive states in this relationship, leaving Will to think he must want to leave to put such effort into it and El to think he must be reluctant to be around her if he has to try so hard.

Because what they are trying to tell us is that this alignment is wrong. And specifically, of course, hint to us that it needs to be switched.

That is why they have NAILED the so often fumbled "these two getting together WILL solve all their relationship problems". Because every problem in both relationships comes from simply forcing pieces that don't fit into the wrong slots. Switch them, and it's easy. It's simple.

(this is also why so many people blame Mike, thinking he should -and COULD- just go back to what he was doing when it worked and that it's contrived and pointless of him to have changed it in the first place - not realizing that the reason he stopped was because he realized the deeper meaning of why *that's* what worked, a reason most viewers haven't even realized exists)

[thepoetress]

The new Mizi comic puts a lot of the best friend relationship between Ivan and Mizi into perspective. Because now, we have Mizi's true perspective on her relationship with Ivan.

Ivan and Mizi don't have any romantic interest in each other. That is the one of the most important points in understanding their relationship in my opinion.

The new Mizi comic shows that she is uncomfortable with anyone having romantic interest in her outside of Sua because of the objectification she feels in their world's society.

"Boys and girls can't be friends because they're destined to fall in love and mate" is what that unnamed boy who had a crush on Mizi in the comic said to her. It instills an attitude that men and women are simply meant to get together just to have children and that it's common sense for a man and a woman to be together romantically. That it's logical that men and women are to be together romantically. That it's what should happen.

Mizi is well-liked by her peers. However, it's implied by the new comic that one of the most important reasons that she is well-liked is for her looks. She's pretty. Pleasing to the eye. If you look at Sua and Ivan, you can see that they both are popular among the opposite gender for their looks. Mizi is likely popular among the opposite gender for her looks as well based on the comic, thus setting her as a parallel to both Sua and Ivan.

Pair the fact that Mizi is pretty with the "boys and girls can't be friends because then they will fall in love and have kids" mentality and you get today's heteronormative and allonormative society.

It's expected of Mizi to fall in love with a boy and mate with him. But Mizi doesn't want either. She wants to be with Sua, a girl just like her, and she says that mating is "kind of gross" in the comic. When she asks Till why he likes her, it instills the idea that there will be boys who like her simply because she's pretty.

This is where Ivan differs from what Mizi has seen among her male peers.

Ivan likely recognizes that Mizi is pretty. He's the closest to Till, so he's likely heard a multitude about Mizi just by being with Till.

However, Ivan likes Till, not Mizi.

Ivan's acknowledgement of Mizi being pretty is an objective observation from him, rather than a subjective idea he has of her. He doesn't have romantic interest in her the way Sua and Till do, so he doesn't feel the need to put on rose-tinted glasses around her. Without the rose-tinted glasses, he simply sees Mizi the way she is. He doesn't ignore Mizi's flaws or any behavior that differ from her happy facade because he doesn't have feelings for her and does not use her as a method of escapism from the cruelty of the world the way Sua and Till do.

In the world of ALIEN STAGE, Ivan observes the people around him in order to gauge what to do and how he should act with the people around him. Because of Ivan's tendency to observe the people around him, it's likely that he recognizes Mizi for how she is, beyond a pretty face and vibrant attitude of obliviousness. It's possible that he recognized that Mizi isn't all she was cut out to be.

However, then there's the issue of his opinion on Mizi in his artbook profile. He says something along the lines of Mizi being too bright.

Is this Ivan falling for Mizi's bubbly facade the way Mizi fell for his "princely" facade? I'm not too sure.

IvanMizi besties... Oh, how you two make me think...

[jujuberry136]

murderbot tv ep 5

Sadly, no new Sanctuary Moon clips this episode - but we did still get plenty of references! And a terrible cliffhanger (...I am loving this full embrace of the serial drama with a weekly release schedule to leave us all hanging until next Friday).

Spoilers below (including discussion of future Murderbot Diaries novellas)!

So Leebeebee is definitely a GreyCris plant - yes? I loved how they set up her:

Was Arada mirroring Murderbot's shock questions when faced with Leebeebee?

Leebeebee throwing out a NEW terrible sci-fi show (one with murderous SecUnits that, of course, SecUnit doesn't like and even Rathi appears to be giving the reference a WTF)

The PresAux team not knowing WTF to do with Leebeebee casually implying their SecUnit is also a Comfort Unit?

The show ALSO was able to introduce the indentured contract concept to the audience, setting up more of this shitty corporate hellhole

With the change-up of the beacon exploding what can be considered 'mid' story, it seems like they might be setting more time devoted to the PresAux / Company/GreyCris conflict that might help set-up a season 2 based more on Exit Strategy? I mean, I am keeping my fingers crossed we get ART

Things I loved:

Rathi's conversation about naming a child after SecUnit as a tribute

"Yeah, I'm friends with a SecUnit, that's right" ...Rathi...

Rathi baiting Murderbot with a deepcut of Sanctuary Moon lore to test if it was watching (and Pin-Lee pointing approvingly at the bait and Arada backing her up)

"Looking at their hopeful faces, I was glad I didn't murder them. Mostly."

The big reveal that Murderbot has hacked its governor module AND HubSystem!

The "I don't like you" from Murderbot to Gurathin, setting up very nicely that Gurathin has maybe a bit of a point here to be concerned BUT also illustrating very nicely that Murderbot is not an emotionless drone

Murderbot very cattily interrupted Gurathin's emotional conversation with Mensah, I loved it

Murderbot marveling at being able to have a free conversation with Mensah like in its shows

They kept the Mensah and Murderbot conversation about the PresAux team letting in the third party - Mensah acknowledging that their team is naive, but they would help.

If Leebeebee IS GreyCris, then she was there during the big conversation about Murderbot hacking its governor module, which would mean that even the hacking of Hub System's feed and replacing that recording with banal stuff isn't going to help too much (unless Leebeebee kicks it before getting back to GreyCris)...

[dailycass-cain]

Okay to FULLY go into my reasons as why I highly enjoy it. So #1 it fixes the lore. Prior all we had was a tiny bits that Cass knew from Shiva and others (Oynx and Ben Turner). To fully get that it's also the very origins of Lady Shiva too (from that time period. So we get FULL reactions to Cass finding out about all of this. Not just quickly moving to point A and B.

So Shiva in #73 had an all-new origin (that was discarded by Gail not soon after, and that's not even counting the other origins the character's had too), that went with I think Chuck Dixon's version of Lady Shiva (aka really awful. Really racist caricature). So Andersen Gabrych had to go with what he had by acknowledging that and having Cass accept that side of herself. Which was rather muddy to begin with.

This one by Tate Brombal feels like one fully inspired by Deny O'Neill (who created Shiva), and basically put some of RD: Kung Fu Fighter back into canon. It also gives Cass a WHOLE family tree now beyond just David Cain and Shiva. We have a WHOLE family branch now (that was slyly introduced in the last arc to). That's another point. It makes Carolyn an actual character again. It makes what happens to her now all the more tragic.

It's just a BUNCH of lore stuff that's needed. Now we're going to get Cass knowing most of the tale now and for what is to come.

Gotta say, I really respect the batgirl series being willing to take so much time with the set up of Cass’ origin especially in a series meant to grab new readers. I know some people are annoyed with the focus on Shiva and lack of Cass but it’s obviously to give context for Cass existence and to catch new readers up on who her parents are. I feel like that’s important for a brand new solo series especially since it’s been a long time since her original one, and a lot has changed since.

[celestie0]

is sex all ihm gojo wants from reader so far since they’re not really in love?

ehhhhh? what could suggest that he only wants sex from her? dude’s risking jail time for her so she can pay her mother’s medical bills… and he’s literally MORE committed to the bit than she is lol! 🤣

i mean technically ihm reader is the one that has initiated both of the serious sexual advances between them, one of which gojo DECLINED and the other of which i mean she was literally grinding up against his boner like are we REALLY surprised he caved? plus they were feeling comfy w one another. they had a rather tender moment the night before

but anywho that’s all besides the point. sex before love doesn’t undermine the emotional intimacy that came before, it either advances it or complicates it. at least this is my stance as a (loosely proclaimed) author and a (loosely proclaimed) person. in the case of the sex scene in ch10, it complicates it. because they had this really tender moment the night before, opening up the possibility of sexual passion the morning after, and suddenly they’re in a little bit more deep than either of them had expected, but before they even have a chance to discuss it candidly, a HUGE part of gojo’s romantic past literally shows up at his front door

i think it’s worth mentioning that both gojo and reader have some insane emotional baggage that might keep them from really opening up romantically or even acknowledging or recognizing their feelings. doesn’t mean those feelings don’t exist though, or that they don’t channel them in ways that aren’t verbal. they subtly look out for one another, and genuinely care about one another, even if they don’t really want to confront what that means yet.

i may have mentioned this before but i really won’t be very sacred about the sex in ihm — i know it’s been slow burn so far but physical intimacy itself is not really meant to be terribly sensationalized as big milestones for their romance. i think the subplots are more responsible n crucial for those developments.

i don't really agree with the assumption that sex is only mutually exclusive to lust or love. i can only hope my writing reflects that. i don't think the 110k words of ihm would suggest all ihm gojo wants from her is sex, i think that would misrepresent his character a lil bit.

i hope this answers!

[valleyian]

Thoughts on Tom Felton and Cursed Childs new casting

Oh boy, time for another long rant nobody asked for because I legit cannot go any longer without expressing my utter devastation and anger at this.

Let’s start with this. I hate JKR, and due to Toms connection and support of her, I hate him by proxy. Here’s what made HPCC stand out from the regular franchise. The casting was diverse, nuanced and even bold at some times, with multiple trans and queer actors having gotten lead roles. What does adding Tom Felton to the mix do? Ruin that “safe” environment that previously was made by trans/queer actors to spite JKR. The entire rewrite, the actors who helped shape the show for I inclusivity, that’s all gone now.

And before it’s mentioned, I know HPCC could never be a truly safe space for queer and trans people due to it being a part of the HP franchise. However in all of its years running, there have been so many castings of specifically queer actors to the point it feels like type casting. The changes to the script issued by trans/queer actors is also so important to acknowledge, because it combats at least SOME of JKRs stances. Previously I had assumed the HPCC show had taken their stance by doing these diverse castings. Now it is clear they’d rather prioritise money and profit.

Which leads to the next point, being that this is so obviously a cashgrab. I know HPCC isn’t selling well, especially because these past few months they’ve been doing so many collabs with old actors in a desperate attempt to stay relevant, in addition to the Brazil prod being cancelled. What breaks my heart is that HPCC BW does Genuenly have good and specifically queer fan base, that see nuances and good in the show. Not to sound sappy, but the “actual fans” of the show are what makes being in this fandom so fun. People who go to see the actors and appreciate what the show has previously stood for, especially after the rewrite.

Now the show is going to infiltrated by Draco fangirls who couldn’t give to shits about the actual show, and are only there to thirst over a middle aged man past his prime. Stage door is a nightmare, and rip to ANY new actor, especially Draco actors that will cover for him, because nobody is going to acknowledge em anymore. The fact the show is about ALBUS and SCORPIUS, yet the show is advertising more about Draco now, who mind you has like 30 min screen time in the films and even less on stage. Plus I bet there will be an influx of hate towards the actual plot of the show, because BW is running with the new even shorter script, which in my honest opinion sucks.

Lastly, Toms involvement in the show I believe will force the BW actors to be more careful about their outspokenness against JKR, in addition to NDAs being stricter. Previously BW had gotten away with so much, like nearly kisses on stages, and so many other things that and undeniably queer coded. Having Tom, and then by proxy JKR be this close to the show will ruin all that. Not only that but I doubt and hope no trans/queer actor would feel safe sharing a stage with him. Idc if he’s not directly transphobic or homophobic, he has chosen to side with JKR and that’s enough for me to not like him. Previous actors, and current ones now at West-End, constantly repost stuff about trans rights and are vocal about their political views. Being political is a part of theatre, and queer identity and the creative arts. This casting ruins that entirely, and just goes to show how in the end they’re willing to negate 4 years of the progress they made for a quick buck.

Good luck to my US fans out there 🫡🫡

[jackattack20writes]

So having spent a couple days thinking about it and also before I get into it I do just wanna acknowledge how it’s entirely reasonable to take issue with how Lalah was presented in the latest episode of Gquuuuuux. But I do think that with the context of Gquuuuuux Lalah staying in the brothel is incredibly important for what Gquuuuuux is trying to say. So a common thread for all the OYW/Gundam 79 vets shown in Gquuuuuux is that they’re stuck in the war. They haven’t been able to move past it, Challia’s still searching for char, Gihren and Kycilia are both still in the wartime fear of assassination and weapons development emphasised by Xavier saying they haven’t even met since the OYW and Lalah has stuck herself in the brothel waiting for char to come save her.

And topping it off the assumedly char character seems to still be trying to kill the Zabi’s and they’ve all been searching for the rose of Sharon this entire time. But all of them have made this choice and I believe that Lalah in this episode, similarly to how Zeon and the brothel have been used, is intended to emphasise this point further.

Like Kycilia and Gihren have chosen to continue on researching new weapons of war and preparing for a civil war by choice, sure it’s the prisoner’s dilemma but it’s still their choice. Similarly Challia rather than trying to actually do something to kill the Zabi’s like he and char planned has spent the last decade and a half searching for Char. Same with Lalah, rather than escaping either with Machu or any time before that she’s waiting for Char to come save her. And this is important because so much of Nyaan, Shuji and Machu’s story has been about finding a place for themselves. And just like how Anqi and Xavier and Deux are the worst possibilities for them, Anqi a jaded woman who trusts no one and is willing to sell people out once they lose their usefulness, Xavier a soldier whose sold his ideals and personhood for alleged safety, and Deux a girl who sacrificied everything in the name of experiencing the Kira Kira, the veterans are similarly advisory tales.

Challia is the man who gives up everything he cares about in the fruitless search for someone he’s centred his whole life around, Gihren and Kycilia show the downfalls of plunging into the war machine for a purpose no matter how noble you think it is, and Lalah is similarly to Challia the consequence of tying your worth to someone else. All of which are possible ends at current for really only Nyaan and Machu but still relevant to my point. These are all people showing potential end points for the protagonists and yet also advisory stories about why they shouldn’t end up like that

Like last ep Xavier basically was just making a case to Nyaan about why she doesn’t want to stay with Zeon and would rather go back to her friends just like how in this ep Lalah while also being a big exposition dump was showing Machu that she was right in taking grasp of her destiny when she did with the Gundam. Because otherwise she’d be stuck suffering waiting for someone else to save her.

This sort of thing is also why I am extremely confident Nyaan and Machu aren’t being set up to be Charmuro 2.0, the show is putting so much effort into showing how badly these people have suffered because of their inability to find good places for themselves where they truly thrive I A. Don’t see the show saying that yes the place for NyaChu is the exact same place that two other adults that suffered greatly from the same generation inhabited 40 years ago and B. I think it’s far too bleak an answer for a show that I think is at its core one of positivity. Like firstly it’s kind of insane to make a show at least partially aimed at teens and say their place in life is to die in a toxic Yuri explosion but also I think that with the subtle parts of it’s portrayals for Nyaan and Machu the show is giving a lot of grace to the idea that teenagers are smart enough to figure it out if they’re given the space to figure it out. And so I doubt the ending at its core character-wise for Nyaan and Machu at the very least will be not much more complicated than the two of them finding the space to figure out who they are and moving beyond the failings of Zeon and the Federation.

Likely together and depending on Shuji’s state at the end with or without him, as a very direct contrast to Charmuro they’ll either move past the loss without blaming each other and just accepting that he’s gone and filling the space he’s left with each other. Or they’ll, like in ep 7, show that Shuji isn’t something that’ll come between them, their bond is ultimately stronger than both of them having feelings for the same boy (likely because they have the same feelings for each tier too.)

Although I do also have to say at the end of this that with only three episodes left it’s entirely possible that they just completely fail to actually deliver on tany of this and instead it devolves into some multiverse bullshit but I do think I’m at least accurate with my read on Lalah. Because while I’m only part way through Utena from what I’ve heard and read about it the victimising inherent to certain roles that’s discussed in that anime is very similar to what’s going on with Lalah in Gquuuuuux and that by seeing the visions of char and Amuro and the OYW she’s relegated herself to this role as someone to be saved and taken away her own agency and this is supposed to be a bad thing for her to do. Similarly to how Challia has lost himself in the search for the red comet and failed to achieve anything that he and char talked about doing.

[muchanmocha]

Hi! This is the same anon that asked you about Mizizua love-hate. As the new comic dropped... This adds a whole new layer to that doesn't it? Just... Gwaaaah! I can now see what aspect of Sua that Mizi might hate. I can relate to that resentment where it feels like they're on a suffering Olympics. The one who has a better home life, having no right to complain as your friend is suffering more than you and so you bottle it all in while feeling like they don't care about your suffering. And then she says stuff that cuts deep, Mizi might know Sua doesn't mean it the same way as the jerk who said it first but Mizi can't help but feel hurt anyway since it's from the girl she loves.

This also recontextualizes a lot of her other relationships, like why she's so fond of Ivan and has high intimacy towards him but he only goes up to 30% towards her - to her it may be just the right amount, she can be free to be affectionate around him while he will never take it the wrong way.

Or crack theory time: Luka looking like the creepo in the comics and how he behaved around Mizi in RomH may be triggering to Mizi and she beat him up in part because of her trauma with men.

Heck, Mizitil is a dynamic that deserves to be observed under a microscope. It's far more complex than I initially thought. Admiration is reciprocated to some degree but romance poisons it. Yet she wants to give Till a chance to be friends cause even when she rejected him point blank he was never violent with her?

I love Mizi. The girl of all time. Just gotta find a place to gush about her.

Hello again! Oh yeah for sure, it definitely adds more layers to Mizisua love-hate.

I do think it's important to note that Mizi didn't slap Sua as a conscious action — it was entirely reflex due to hurt. Though whether it draws from existing hate (no matter how small) is up to the individual's interpretation.

Still I don't blame either of them here.

No matter how much we care about someone, we can hurt them without meaning to. Whether it be a bitter comment, a careless response, a moment of anger, or just the wrong words at the wrong time. No matter how good your relationship is, those moments will exist because we're inherently human.

The world of Alnst only exacerbates it all. There's been a continual theme of "what you receive is what you're capable of giving." (ex. Till being able to love so genuinely bc of his mother, all Luka received was pain so that's all he knows/can inflict on others) The environment of Alnst has put all the pet humans through more than they ever should've endured and it resonates through their relationships in the form of hurting each other.

This is more of a personal belief but I think Mizi was only able to slap Sua there and then because it's now been introduced to her system as a way to react to hurt via what happened to her earlier.

Mizi's pain and the way she needs Sua (of all people, the only one) to see it and acknowledge it really parallels Ivan. She even inherits this specific line of his in Cure:

"Notice my pain, and mend me right now"

I don't think Mizi's bright smile and bubbly persona are faked. It's her most authentic self, and that's what makes it so powerful.

I just don't think she's allowed to drop it.

Even the most cheerful person we know in our lives isn't cheerful all the time. But she's internalized that she can't drop it, whether that be to better protect herself from a world she won't be able to bear, or for the sake of others and continuing to provide the same solace for them.

In this, her situation differs a little from Ivan, who wears a carefully constructed mask to hide a self he doesn't believe anyone can accept.

But they're the same in that they can't show the wounds they've accumulated inside, and suffer from the loneliness that comes with their pain not being acknowledged or seen. The natural reaction to that is to seek out the one person they trust to see, the one person they need to see them as they are.

"Notice my pain."

—

I've seen the "he resembles Luka to draw parallels for Mizi's trauma" theory a lot in the last 24 hours, and I mean, I think it's one of those it's up to you whether that's canon or not things.

I personally think it's just a coincidence because it's happened a lot in the past (ex. Ivan's resemblance to Acorn esp as a child) and the resemblance is almost entirely due to the quirks of the artstyle rather than intentional design choice (wherein it's only "wavy hair".)

—

Oh god Mizi and Till.

My hot take is that Till is actually the most important character in The True Face because his death is the one Mizi feels the most responsibility for and therefore the one for which her survivor's guilt manifests the strongest.

I'm working on a post about it 💪hopefully can finish in the next day or so.