#FEMALE WOW PLAYER PROBLEMS

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Harvest Moon

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday and you're going to make sure he has a good one. Warnings: smut, fluff, dancing in the kitchen to neil young, unprotected p in v, public-ish sex (but under a blanket), talking to neighbors while sitting on joel miller's cock, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), fingering, riding, joel has a filthy mouth, no use of y/n, not beta read.

A/N: I spent most of tonight adding 2,500 words to this barely written piece. Now it's two hours past my bedtime, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!!! This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but, this is yet another singular smut entry for my Elks babies. This was originally going to be posted as a birthday celebration chapter for that, but I really wanted to give Joel his gift on his actual birthday. Happy birthday you gorgeous old man, you. Hope you like the porn I wrote about you. ❤️🥴

Masterlist

🌕🌕🌕🌕

You’ve been looking for the CD since you learned of Joel’s love of the song. Tommy did it, he actually did it. Somehow by some miracle he found the CD. 

“Not a problem,” he gives you that same shy Miller lopsided grin. “Milt had it. Told me to tell you it’s yours to keep… said he owes you since you were his daughter’s favorite teacher ‘n all.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you say, barely being able to contain your excitement, “this is going to be amazing.”

“Of course. Should be thanking you really,” he shrugs. “It’s about time he had a good birthday.”

—

Joel said he’d be helping fix one of the greenhouses today, but you’re still scared to ruin the surprise as you unlock his door. 

“Joel?” you yell out into the quiet, seemingly empty house. 

No answer. Perfect.

Quick steps lead you to his CD player, the same one he first showed you how much he cared for you with. Now, it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. The disc tray opens and you place the CD into the system, you can’t wait to surprise him. 

—

“More coffee?” you ask, holding up the percolator.

He nods and smiles, happily sitting at the table full from the steak, potatoes, and cornbread you made him. He had insisted on sharing the meat, but you refused, happy to let him enjoy the first taste of steak in over twenty years.

Your friend Helen got her boyfriend Greg to cut a small filet of steak from the newly butchered cow. She handed it to you with a knowing smile. It’s nice to see everyone accept yours and Joel’s relationship. 

You lean over his lap, and top his coffee cup off. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in a dress? Can’t believe you got yourself all dolled up for me.” He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap. 

“Careful!” you shriek, quickly placing the carafe on the table. “Yes, you have… many times. That's why I wore it.”

“Hmph,” he hums happily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you for dinner–and everything sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin. 

“That’s not all,” you giggle as he nips at a sensitive spot under your chin. 

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re so good to me.” 

You clutch his chin tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “You deserve a happy birthday.” His big brown eyes search yours, like he’s forcing himself to believe it. “Joel, you do.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he sighs warmly.

“I love you too. Now, I have something else for you,” you slip off his lap and head towards your backpack. “It’s something small, I promise.”

You return with a bundle of fabric held behind your back. 

“Remember when you tore your favorite flannel and you tossed it in the rag bag?”

You place the flannel in his hands.

“Well, a certain girl named Ellie grabbed it for me. I mended it, reinforced the buttons, and sewed up a couple holes. It’s not perfect, but it’s fixed.”

He holds the flannel up and inspects it. “This is–wow–this–I can’t believe it.” He looks up at you, his eyes wide with adoration. “I was wearing this that first day I saw you, y’know? This is so sweet sweetheart, thank you.” 

He likes it, you thank your lucky stars. Your handsome Joel, here with you on his birthday, allowing himself to be taken care of. 

You know the story of his birthday, you’ve retold the tale to yourself every night as you anticipated this day. Afraid to upset him, afraid to cross a line, but all you’ve wanted to do is give him the world he so deserves. 

It wasn’t just you who thought of him today. It’s Tommy finding the CD. It’s Helen getting you the steak. It’s Ellie grabbing the flannel from the rag bag. He deserves all of it. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “Now, put it on. I have one more surprise.”

He slips the flannel on as you head to the living room. The CD waits in the stereo. You turn it on.

The soft guitar and brushes of a drum fills the air as you turn the volume up.  

Joel’s huge smile greets you when you walk back into the kitchen.

“You– how?” he asks, unbelieving. 

“Asked Tommy and he found it for me. Milt had his greatest hits. Now,” you reach your hand out to him, “may I have this dance birthday boy?”

He chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you into him. The two of you sway along to the music, his strong arms enveloping you as your cheek rests against his warm chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Your hands slip around his broad back, one of them trailing up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He sighs deeply before placing a tender kiss against the top of your head. 

“This is my favorite song,” he murmurs.

The sun has long since set, the singular lamp above the sink casts a warm dark amber glow across the kitchen Your shadows dance across the walls as you sway. He smells of coffee and sweet corn bread, like home and comfort. 

He starts to hum then softly sing along. His deep voice reverberates through your ear, pressed against his heart. 

“Because I’m still in love with you,  I wanna see you dance again,  Because I’m still in love with you,  On this harvest moon”

You can hear the contentment in his voice as he holds you closer. Moving in synchronicity with each other, gently stepping across the small kitchen as the harmonica solo plays. If you could stay in this moment forever you would.

You tilt your head up, and his eyes meet yours. The smile he gives lights his face. Lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes, dimple sitting deep on his cheek, mustache curving with his plush upturned lips. He serenades you with the same lyrics as before, looking deep in your eyes. 

“Because I’m still in love with you,  I wanna see you dance again,  Because I’m still in love with you,  On this harvest moon”  

His lips meet yours, thanking you with a gentle kiss. The man you love and adore, feels good on his birthday all because of you. 

The song plays on repeat, the two of you dance together, Joel gently hums and sings along as the harvest moon rises above the mountains. 

You gently pull away, unclasping his arms from around you.

“Come on birthday boy,” you say with a playful smile, “let’s go watch the stars.” 

—

You and Joel sit beneath a large plaid comforter on his porch. The early fall breeze that rolls down the mountainside leaves a chill in the air. The night sky is lit bright with the orange full moon. Most of Jackson is at the Harvest Moon Festival tonight, you can just make out the distant sounds of laughter and music flowing through the air from the main street on his porch. Ellie was especially thrilled about the teen sleepover happening at the Bison tonight, giving you both this rare moment of solitude in his backyard. She told Joel she knew he was in good hands with you for his birthday. 

And he is–or at least you’re in his good hands. 

“Oh, god,” you softly whisper into the night, you’re so tense from keeping yourself quiet. The stars are a little harder to see tonight thanks to the ambient glow of the bright moon, and yet you see stars whenever you squeeze your eyes shut while fighting the urge to moan. Joel’s deft, large thumb rubs circles against your clit while you ride two of his thick fingers. 

He’s driving you crazy like this. His large body and the blanket wrapped around you, overheating all of your senses in this chilly night. You’re completely covered, nobody would know that your legs are spread wide, one draped over his thick thigh while his hand is stuffed up your dress making you quake as he finger fucks you.

“Easy now, easy now,” he says nuzzling against your neck, his large nose charting a course across the sensitive skin. “Gotta remember where we are. You're the sweet, innocent teacher 'n librarian here. Lotta people look up to you, can’t have them knowin’ what my girl really likes when she’s with me.” Your hips slow their movement, he makes up for it by pumping you harder. “See, I can help, just gotta let me know you want it baby.” 

“Want to take–neyugh–care of you,” struggles out of your mouth. 

“You’re taking care of me right now, sweetheart, touching you is my favorite thing to do.” 

“Want to go inside… w-want to–want–to, want to feel you in my mouth,” you grip the straining bulge underneath the fly of his jeans. 

“Not yet,” he sighs deeply when you squeeze harder. “Like seeing your skin glow in the moonlight. What you’re doin’ now is enough, want to enjoy my night with you.”

Your hold tightens around his cock as you fight harder to suppress the urge to scream into the night. His fingers angle up hitting your most sensitive spot and you feel like you could explode. You’ll be the fireworks to celebrate Joel’s birthday. A whimper is fought by biting your lip, it’s so hard to not scream. His brown eyes look almost black in the low light as he watches you struggle and blink rapidly. 

“Shh baby, you’re doing so good, bein’ so quiet, don’t ruin it now. If anybody was out right now they could walk right on by and they’d have no idea what I’m doing to you under here.”

You’ve never done anything like this, so out in the open. Jackson is a peaceful town full of law abiding citizens, and right now you’re sitting on the back of the porch of Joel’s house getting felt up by him. 

“Joel… I–I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me baby.” His hot breath hits your lips before sealing his mouth against yours. Your cunt spasms against his thick fingers, you feel set alight by your orgasm, overheated and burning. Maybe you’re glowing just as bright as the moon. His tongue dances with yours, swallowing all of your gasps and cries. You’re sure at this point, anybody that walked by would know exactly what was happening between the two of you. You don’t care, all you want is to feel Joel’s cock inside you.

“Want you, Joel, want you so bad,” you mew as his fingers rub against your sensitive folds. 

“Okay baby, okay.” His fingers slip from your warmth before he brings his soaked digits to his lips. His eyes flutter shut when he tastes you. 

“Sweeter than birthday cake,” he declares before raising his hips and pulling his jeans down with a grunt. “Come here. Come sit on me.”

Your legs spread wide as you straddle his large lap with your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. He grips himself and moves the half hard heft of his cock against your soaked core, swirling his tip back and forth across your clit. 

“Tell me you want my cock,” he whispers against your neck, licking a line up to your ear. “Tell me baby.”

“I-I want your cock–I need your cock Joel,” you beg. 

“I know you do darling,” he chuckles deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.

The sounds of the festival go silent and the bright orange moon fades as you slowly sink down on his cock. Taking all of him, thick and throbbing into your tight cunt. 

“That’s my good girl,” he grits. “Your sweet pussy is taking me so well, isn’t she?”

Clutching your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, you try to fight the moan his words bring up.

“Oh, you must like that. You’re squeezin’ me so hard sweetheart.” 

You set a pace, riding him gently under the moonlight, his fingers gripping your hips tight. 

His hot breaths hit the back of your neck as your back molds even tighter to his front. His hand snakes down to rub your clit, small circles making your body meld even more against him.. The rhythm of his fingers and cock spearing you pulls another orgasm down from the ethers of space. Shivering, sweating, and stuttering Joel’s name, you’re trying to be good for him, trying to not scream into the night. 

“That’s my girl, grippin’ my cock so good, cummin’ all over me. Getting yourself nice and slippery so I can fuck you real good, huh?” 

“Mmf,” is the only response you can muster. Your cunt flutters around him, and he doesn’t relent, slowly fucking into you while his finger pulses against your clit. 

The sound of two people conversing approaches. Your movements come to a halt, Joel stays still, his finger still resting against your sensitive bundle of nerves and his cock sitting deep inside you. Hank and Billie, the nice couple that lives three houses down from Joel, walk past the porch. Both look over and wave a greeting. Fuck.

“Beautiful moon, isn’t it?” Hank says with a smile. 

“Quite.” Joel responds. The rumble of his loud voice radiates through you.  

“You guys get any barbecue tonight?” Hank asks. “It was really go–”

“We stayed in,” Joel gruffly responds. He subtly knocks his hips into you causing a wave of sensation to hit against your already cock-drunk pussy.

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale.  

“Oh, well, there will probably be leftovers tomorrow,” Billie offers. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you the good stuff.”

“Thanks Billie,” you breathlessly reply, wishing on every star you’ve seen behind your eyelids, they’ll leave. “We appreciate it.”

“Best be getting home,” Hank says, grabbing Billie’s hand. “We both had a bit too much to drink!” 

Oh thank god.

“Enjoy your night,” Joel says plainly as he starts to slowly rock into you once they turn away. 

To the eyes of your neighbors, you and Joel just look like a normal couple enjoying the night sky cuddled together under a blanket… little do they know he’s filling you with his thick cock under the shield. 

“That was close,” he whispers against your ear before nipping it. 

Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he fucks into you harder. 

“Guess we shouldn’t take our time, don’t want to get caught, now do we?” he asks. 

“We can just–nyuh–go inside,” you plead, wanting to be able to moan and scream Joel’s name in the comfort of his home. 

“Gimme one more baby, gimme one more,” he grunts against your neck. “And then I’ll take you into my home and fuck you.”

His hips pound against your body, his thrusts bucking into your core harder. “That’s it baby, you really want me to take you in and lay you down ‘n fuck you, don’t you?” 

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your stomach tightening and thighs trembling as the universe splinters around you. Your orgasm rockets through your body. Color turns to black and white, noise falls silent. All that exists is Joel Miller and his big cock shattering you into a million pieces like your own personal big bang on the back of his porch. 

“Good girl,” he groans, “let’s take this party inside.”

—

The plaid comforter is laid out on the kitchen floor. Your wobbly legs move your still blissed-out body to Joel’s stereo, starting “Harvest Moon” on repeat all over again. 

You lean against the kitchen entrance, admiring Joel as he rests atop the blanket, naked and supporting himself on his elbows. No man over fifty should ever look as good as him. Broad shoulders frame his strong arms, his chest has a smattering of dark hair that trails down to the slight bulge of his stomach. His cock rests in between his legs, still hard and shining with your slick. He’s so gorgeous, and he’s all yours. 

“Come here sweetheart,” his voice is gruffer. “Lay down next to me.”

His dick twitches as you walk to the blanket and settle beside him. 

He moves over you, covering you with his warmth as he engulfs himself in your slick heat. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing him to take more. 

“Joel,” you moan. The angle allows his cock to push farther in and your walls to tighten harder against him. 

“Ooh, you’re so fucking wet, you hear that?” he asks incredulously. The squelch of your pussy soundtracks along to the song quietly playing in the background. “Sounds so fucking good baby.” 

He gasps when buries himself to the hilt, soaking the curly hairs around the base of him with your wet.

Your body trembles as your hips meet his, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace. 

He takes no time to own you now behind the walls of his home. Your hands clutch at his wide back, sobs and screams of his name echoing out into the air as Neil Young softly sings in the background. 

You’re so full of him. His body surrounding you, his lips against yours, his cock pounding into your accepting cunt, his name chanting out of your mouth. 

“You want it baby?” he growls against your neck, his cock pumping in and out of your hole at a speed no man over fifty should be able to ever reach. “You want my cum?” 

“C-cum Joel,” you cry, tears sprouting from your eyes as your fourth orgasm launches through you. 

He gasps your name, pulling out of your tremorous pussy and shooting thick white ropes of cum across your pussy and stomach. 

His sweat is slick against your overheated body, you’re a mess of sweat, orgasm, and love. 

He kisses you, his tongue licking against yours before he rolls off you. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Fuck,” he pants, stretching his limbs out. “Gonna feel this tomorrow.” 

“Well, you are another year older, old man,” you tease, curling up next to him. 

“Yeah,” he turns his head to look at you. “I guess I am,” he sighs. “Thank you for–my birthday and–all of this. I can never put into words how much it all means to me.” 

“So I guess you’re still in love with me?” you tease.

“Always. Especially on this harvest moon,” he returns your smile. 

---

Tagging a couple people who had asked about this piece earlier this month: @almostfoxglove, @sawymredfox, @burntheedges, and @littlemisspascal 🩷🌝

[utilitycaster]

In the end, it is misogyny but in the form of that Imogen (and most of the female cast, if we are being fair) gets reduced to just being a woman to the point that criticizing any real flaw, wrong doing, or "hey i personally maybe perhaps don't like that she did this" is turned into an attack on her because she is a woman, because after all, all women are perfect and so so dainty they must be protected (sarcasm)

Without mentioning the attacking real women in the name of the fictional one

It really is the "God forbid a woman do anything" but in it's worst form

Sorry for venting, been having thoughts about the fandom for the past 5 years

YUP. I do recommend Unlikeable Female Characters by Anna Bogutskaya which I devoured in like, one sitting over my winter break and posted a bunch of excerpts from but this discourse is extremely not limited to the CR fandom. I mean, think about all of the endlessly churning nonsense about the women of Gone Girl and Midsommar. I am going to see Love Lies Bleeding tomorrow and have steered well clear of really any discussion because I simply would like to see buff lesbians in a crime drama but apparently the discourse is rancid.

Of course there are people who assume ill of female characters while excusing men. That is absolutely a big problem. But again, we can barely talk about that. I recently made a post about how Laura is not a particularly chaotic player, and indeed is one of the most cautious players in actual play, and again I think there is a serious and important conversation to be had about how there's probably a reason why, say, Travis and Taliesin are more likely to make extremely bold moves, because they didn't get raked over the coals during C1 for stealing a cool broom from a guest character! I actually think Marisha has managed to hang on to some of her boldness and it makes her a stronger player but I would not have been surprised if she retreated after the hate she got from Keyleth. But yeah, in actual play, bold moves are pretty important. We can't even talk about how real-world misogyny holds back the actual actors without some moronic wretch being like "FIGURES THAT A MISOGYNIST CUNT LIKE YOU LIKES A MALE ACTOR."

When a character who is a man - or in some cases, characters who are not men but are played by men - does something people don't like we can say "wow, I didn't like this, but it was an interesting choice by the actor!" but we aren't allowed to either talk about the reasons why a real world woman might hesitate to play a character who does ugly things - because of the misogynistic backlash that will land specifically on her as a real person - nor can we compliment her for going for it and playing a complex flawed character, because how DARE you say a woman is anything less than some kind of Divine Feminine ideal. At best you're allowed a two-dimensional caricature of She's So Sweet And Good But Sometimes Gets Angry (this also happened to my friend Keyleth).

And this might reveal my own biases but like. I as a woman don't love being called self-centered, but that, personally, would probably lead me to some reflection. If you call me a girlfailure, even jokingly, I am going to break your nose. It's really telling that like...one of the absolute no-brainer "hey stop calling grown women girls" feminist tenets has gone by the wayside particularly with the set of people who think that meta that fails to put women on so high a pedestal they are untouchable is misogynist. They are awful towards women, fictional and real.

A line that always stuck with me from, bizarrely, a book about wordplay, was that Victorian men would treat women of their same classes as their superiors, but never their equals - they would coddle them and protect them but they wouldn't actually engage with their thoughts and foibles. (This happened to my friend Jester).

Anyway my personal solution is to keep going. On some level, as my previous post indicates, while I don't want the harassment it also only underscores my point, that a lot of these people are way more invested in being a dick to women on the internet than writing meta about the pretend women they think they like. I have to imagine they're doing this because either think they're entitled to meta they like from people who can actually fucking write it because god knows most of the people making this complaint have the most "if you can't dazzle them with brillance, blind them with the most purple-prose bullshit you can muster" attitude; or because they literally are just champing at the bit to attack women online with the ostensible veneer of "but it's FEMINIST to call THESE women cunts because they said my blorbo wasn't saintly and flawless." However, again, I know that I'm pretty bullheaded and forcibly unlearned the uh, patriarchal idea that women should not be confrontational. I do not blame people who look at this whole situation and say "I'm going to keep my thoughts to myself because this is so unpleasant."

[raschuuuu]

Summary: Y/N is a famous YouTube vlogger and Ruben Dias a famous professional football player. They've been friends for a few months but never met. Now it's finally time for them to meet but what happens when one of them falls in love?

PART 1

Rating/genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Pairings: Ruben Dias x female reader

Word count: 1289 words

Author's note: Hey guy's. This is my first ever footballer fanfiction. First of all: I AM SORRY ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I'm bored at work tbh, thats why I started this and I have no idea how to continue. So if you like this and want to read more please let me know how to continue or how you would want it to end?:)

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

It was finally time. I'm on the train from London to Manchester. I took a few days off because I was invited. From Ruben Dias. I'm a Vlogger/Youtuber and apparently Ruben often watched my videos and decided to slide into my DM's a few months ago. We just started small talk, he told me he liked to watch my videos every Sunday and that I should keep doing what I do. I was honored. In the beginning we only had small talk but over time we've been writing more and more and more and also making phone calls and facetime. The only problem was that we never met because he's very busy and so am I. A few days ago Ruben asked me if we didn't want to finally meet and I said yes. And now I'm sitting here and I'm all excited.

Hey, I'll wait for you outside in the car. See you in a minute!

He texted me. I got off the train, it had already been dark. I told him not to come and I'm gonna take a cab, but he insisted.

I realized how nervous I got, I mean, we've been writing for a long time, but we've never met in person, and he even offered me that I could sleep with at his place. We didn't have a romantic relationship, we just texted as friends, but I mean the guy is pretty hot and everyone who doesn't think so must be blind.

When I was outside, I was out in the parking lot, I didn't even know which car he was driving. Do you know this embarrassing situation when you stand there looking for someone and the person most likely has already discovered you? I heard someone calling my name from a car standing a few meters away from me.

I ran to the car and he got out. He smiled at me very cute and he gave me a hug. His body felt so strong. He smelled good and we looked each other in the eye. He was a little taller than me, so I had to look up.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you in person," he said, and I noticed my cheeks turning a little red. "Me too, Ruben, we finally made it after so long," I replied.

He packed my things in his trunk, and then he opened his car door for me, and we drove off. The ride didn't take long, he asked me how it was and if I was hungry. I was so hungry but I couldn't eat because of all the excitement.

When we arrived, he parked his car and we went up to his apartment. His apartment was huge, clean and tidy, and above all, it was comfortable. He took me to the guest room and showed me where I‘ll stay for the next few days?

In the guest room, I remembered that we never agreed how long I was supposed to stay. I was uncomfortable staying with him anyway. I've told him several times that I'm going to take a hotel, but he insisted that I stay with him.

"Ruben, thank you, wow, this room looks so great, but I just remembered, we didn't agree how long I'd stay. I really don't want to bother you.", I said desperately. "Y/N, are you crazy? Stay as long as you want. My home is your home, I want my guests to be comfortable." he answered.

That feeling he gave me felt so domestic. I mean, I've known him for a little while, but how often do you have situations in life where you get along with a person very well, but once you get together, it gets kind of weird and uncomfortable? I was afraid that we'd end up in a similar situation, but on the contrary, it felt like I'd always visited him, as if we'd always been friends, as if I'd stayed with him several times.

For the next two days we spent together, he showed me Manchester, we went to dinner together, or we cooked together, he introduced me to his brother Ivan, everything was just so beautiful. We talked a lot, and we had deep conversations at night in his living room. He opened up to me, he told me some of his secrets, and he talked about his fears. I was very honored that he saw a close friend in me.

But I had a feeling I couldn't get rid of. Ruben was a very attractive and handsome man. I know I said that before, and I'm gonna say that again. If there's an attraction between a man and a woman, you can't be friends in my opinion. I tried to come up with other thoughts or convince myself that he wouldn't be so attractive, but that didn't work. Above all, Ruben has told me several times that he thinks that he has now found a best friend that he never had, and I don't want to break that feeling just because my pussy always gets wet when I see him.

He showed me some Instagram models that didn't even look like me that he's currently finding attractive. I mean, Ruben, he follows a lot of Instagram models, and he's also written with a lot of them and met a few of them, but he couldn’t imagine a relationship with them and those he thought might have been serious, turned out to be a gold digger. After a nice five days I spent with Ruben, it was time for me to leave Manchester and go back to London. I have taken a little break on Instagram while I was with him, so people wouldn't get suspicious of me meeting someone because when you have 5.6 million followers on Instagram this can happen fast.

I had to shoot content again and entertain my followers, so I packed my bag in the morning and Ruben was waiting for me so he could drive me to the station.

When we were in the car, I noticed a strange silence I'd never felt before between the two of us. Do you know that there are once pleasant silences and once unpleasant silences? And this was definitely an unpleasant one.

"Are you all right?", I asked him. He was looking at the road. "I'm fine. I'm just sad that you have to go," he said, turning his head to me for a moment. "I'm sad too, Ruben, it was nice five days, I had a lot of fun, maybe I can come visit you again, or you can come to London," I tried to cheer him up. He just nodded his head and kept on driving.

When we got to the station, he parked a little far away so he could get off with me. He took my suitcase out of the trunk and handed it to me.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N, I really appreciate it. You're a great person and I'm very happy to have you as my friend." I realized how emotional he got and sad. I hugged him and stroked his back. „Ruben this feels like a goodbye forever“ I said smiling at him. „It’s just that when I get used to a person I don’t want them to leave anymore. Please visit me again Y/N“ he said. „Of course Ruben! We’re in the same country. I can always hop in the next train and visit you. And if you should be in London again let’s definitely meet“. „Yes we should definitely do that. And the next time you should come visit my game and maybe I can introduce you to someone how you wanted to“ he said hitting my arm in a playful way. „You‘re really trying to set me up with someone huh“.

And with that we said our last goodbyes and I took my train back to London. I‘m so happy that I found a friend like him now.

[miquella-everywhere]

To add to your point about the dlc retcons seeming to be a bit of lashing out at non-cis-male fans, I think you’re very correct when you consider what is the most popular in the base game. Malenia is far and away the most popular/beloved boss (and is a contender for most popular character in general), and a lot of the reaction to her is more “wow she’s awesome and a good character” rather than “wow she’s tough and hot” — people appreciated her boss fight but a lot of the fandom wanted to ally with her instead, particularly female fans and enby fans who like the gender vibes with both her and Miquella. It doesn’t seem like that was the reaction from was looking for, so they decided to cater to the macho cis male audience by ignoring Malenia completely in favor of Radahn, who was semi-retconned into having traits that were much more Malenia’s in the base game (Kind?!? Hello?!? Who’s the one who spared a defeated Godrick, left nonhostile territories like Liurnia and Leyndell alone, and was so beloved by their soldiers that they stuck around despite the whole deadly rot problem?!?).

And I think the endings work similarly: the Elden Lord endings seem to have been the intended endings — it’s what the game pushes you towards, there are four different variants, and it’s both default and expandable with sidequests. The best EL endings are obtained through Goldmask (a man) and Fia (one of the more fanservicey women in the game), which make the vibes much more male-aligned than Age of Stars (obtained through helping a woman whose most significant desire is independence) and Frenzied Flame (obtained through following Hyetta, a woman who is implicitly the reanimated body of a female character killed for her father’s man pain storyline). The latter two endings are vastly more popular, which I think was the opposite of what was expected. The large female and enby portions of the audience seem to be a large part of that popularity. Then comes SOTE, which assumes the player took or plans to take the “intended,” male-aligned Elden Lord endings and forces the player to kill a character who was immensely popular particularly in non-cis, non-male fan groups… Maybe I’m overthinking things, but it feels like it’s that gendered backlash you were talking about.

👆😔

the more that i think about it the more that i believe it is definitely about gendered backlash.

like you had people complaining and bemoaning how hard malenia is as a boss and people genuinely hating her as a character for it, and now with promised retcon being an absolute technical nightmare of a fight, worse than malenia by leagues, that same vitriol towards mal just isnt present when people talk about retcon r*d*hns fight.

catering to the macho cis male audience is honestly the best way you can kill any story, especially one that was already established as viscerally feminine like the base game, and this decision to make r*d*hn the most beloved best chad gary-sue of elden ring fueled by the assumption that everyone loves r*d*hn, ruins the story in so many different ways.

it's just awful.

[lordkakashek6]

TWST housewardens but it's Homestuck extended zodiac + classes

Riddle Rosehearts

Im not sure about Riddle's class, but i think he could be a Mage. Mages usually "suffer from their aspect and id say it fits his mom problem

Leona Kingscholar

I honestly wasnt sure what aspect to give Leona because i still don't really understand his character THAT GOOD but oh well. Heir of Void.

Azul Ashengrotto

WOW another light player i just wasn't sure what to give Azul. Probably either a Rogue or a Thief, not sure.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim would be a Page? Im really not sure about his class again but i would give him a creation class if they weren't female only. He would be a nice Sylph

Vil Schoenheit

another Mage!!!! wow. Didn't see much of Vil for now so im not sure im open for the ideas lol

Idia Shroud

Seer of Doom. Just sitting in his room and still being useful is a dream. gets a little bit too confident in his powers later on

Malleus Draconia

Page or Knight. Maybe even a Lord, if his session would be small! that guy is bonkers

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

  "What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

  *

  It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

[barbiecrocs]

Hard to hate.

Eddie Munson

tags! enemies to lovers, no piv, no spoilers for s4, oral (female receiving), fingering, teasing, pet names (princess), name calling (dingus), hair pulling, cumming in pants, underage drinking

I think that's it. Lemme know if I missed something.

WC.5433

Barbies note...So I mention the Cityman Nokia but that came out in 87 so the story is set really early 87 and they are abt the graduate. Ik the time line doesnt make sense, but dont worry abt it😝. Anyway, enjoyyyy

You loved your friends, and it's been a while since you've last hung out, but what you wouldn't give right now to be home alone with a bag of hot fries and some horror flicks. Yeah, sure you said, "Steeeeeeeevie, we should kick it at your house tonight." Making finger guns at him while everyone piggybacks off of that thought. Robin butting in, "Fast times?" She nods with two thumbs ups directed at an unamused Steve.

 "Ugh, again?" Nancy complains, rightfully so. 

"What, it's a good movie." Robin gestures to you as back up, but you put your hands up in defense, not wanting to pick sides. It was a good movie though, but at the same time, it was worn out.

"No, that movie is so run through by all of us. How many times have we rented it from Family Video now? For heaven's sake, I'd rather watch a horror movie at this point!"

"Wow, Nancy. Daredevil, you. Maybe we a porno instead or something. Eddie wouldn't mind, nor would Steve." She teases. 

And that's where you exit the convo. At the name drop of Eddie. Your eyes flicker around the video store, eye catching titles such as Nightmare on Elms Street, Sixteen Candles, and Fame pop out at you before you catch Steve mouthing a Fuck you while giving you the jack-in-the-box middle finger. Cranking and cranking until it pops out. You give him a playful smirk and an eyeroll, typing in the 'F•r•i•e•n•d•s' group chat that's name was always being changed to some joke like 'Brad's bud-lings' or Linda's Bralette. All Fast Times references made by Robin, each one deserving an eyeroll. "HANG OUT AT STEVE'S TONIGHT!!" you relay. Even though the only person you'd be informing is Eddie and maybe Chrissy if she reads the group chat. Only popping in to say hi every few weeks. 'What could possibly be keeping her so busy?' The question always circles your mind before being brushed off. 

Steve's phone pings, looking down at it in hopes that it doesn't say what he thinks it says. Nope, it says exactly what he didn't want it to say. He glares at you, gently bumping shoulders with you when he walks over, inching his way down to your ear. "I hope you know that you're driving them." He taps your shoulder for fake comfort, not understanding the big problem.

—

 The feeling of a headache coming on from the noisy car says it all. You should've taken the warning when Steve dished it, too bad you didn't know. Nancy and Eddie talk loudly in the backseat, trying to hear each other over Madonna's 'Material Girl' that Robin put into your car's DVD player. 

 'A couple more blocks. Just a couple more blocks and I can just chill at Steve's house and watch movies or whatever he has planned this time. Maybe we'll watch Fast Times again, it never gets old. Or something new like Pretty in Pink, yea that came out recently.' The thought relaxes you before Robin brings back all the stress, placing a lukewarm beer on your skater denim thighs. Your favorite low-rise jeans. They were a dark wash color, a perfect fit and were tattered with embroidered stars with a little distress.

 "Care for a beer?" She asks, a tad too loud for your close proximity, "Oh my god Robin, for the last time, NO.  And you reek of beer, get back." She rolls her eyes at your order, "Ugh rude! Don't be such a bummer, just take the beer. See? Here, I'll help you since your hands are full." She drunkenly puts the unopened beer can to your lips, tipping it up and down. "Huh, nothing's coming out, strange-", you grab both of her wrists with one hand and turn down the volume, "Robin! For heaven's sake please put it down, you're blocking my vision. Gosh, who the hell let her sit in the front! Guys mind giving me a hand? Geez!" You continuously swat Robin's hands away while trying to keep a steady steering hand. "Princess, you let her sit in the front. Remember? So, you did that to yourself." 

"Okay well, I wasn't expecting much help from you anyway. And stop calling me princess, dingus." 

"Stop calling me dingus, princess." He retorts with a chuckle in his voice. That motherfucker, he probably gets off on stressing and teasing you.

 Nancy grabs onto the back of your seat, pulling herself towards you, "Nuh uh, no, not today. Both of you shut up. You're acting like children. Why do you hate each other so much anyway?" You both shut up, waiting for the other to give a response.

 You didn't answer because you didn't actually hate Eddie. You only acted like this because he hated you first. Well, you interpreted it as hate. He would just straight up ignore you. You used to have a crush on him, giggling like a little schoolgirl when he'd pass you in the halls. You thought that maybe he was just dense, but then your best friend Chrissy exposed your little crush to him. Yet, he still did nothing about it. 

 None of that mattered your junior year though. You decided to put yourself out there like Chrissy did. You were social, prettier, and had the school's hotshot, Jason Carver on your arm. He wasn't your type, but everyone kissed the ground you walked on so why complain? Why complain about the times he would chew with his mouth open? Why complain about the times he'd brag about how your tits bounced when he fucked you? Totally leaving out the part where he only lasted 30 seconds of the "pounding" he gave you. You'd always rant about it to Chrissy, both of you rolling your eyes and snickering when he'd talk about it.

 Through Chrissy, you met Steve, Nancy, and Robin, all your best friends to this day. Y'all would go out for milkshakes, watch movies, go to the mall and have a blast. Things were settling down nicely for your senior year. 

 But then, Eddie wormed his way back into your life through your shared friends and classes. Suddenly, ignoring and hating him was starting to get exhausting. How could you hate someone with good music taste? You'd act disgusted when his trashy drug den of a van pulled into the school's student parking lot or Steve's driveway. Then you'd notice Metallica's 'battery' pouring out the speakers of his car and can't help but bob your head.

 Then there was his sweet and smile. His smile was angelic. All the leather studded jackets and band patches in the word couldn't dim the brightness that is his smile. It was a little crooked, but his lips were perfect.

 And his hair– God, his hair. How much you longed to curl your fingers in his soft frizzy locs. Run your fingers through and grip it at the scalp while he devours you like a starved man– No. You are past that phase and over him. But as you'd like to think, none of that mattered anymore. You broke up with Jason, still had your friends, and still didn't like Eddie. If only you knew that Eddie never actually hated you either.

–

You swallow hard at the question that sits tensely in the air between you two. He notices your silence on the topic, a smug grin easing its way to his face, "Cat got your tongue?" You can hear the teasing sarcasm in his voice, practically oozing out his mouth. "Oh yeah? Why don't you answer it? You have a mind and mouth of your own." Glares exchange through the rear view mirror before you break away.

 "Nancy, please." You plea, not waiting for Eddie's clapback. Nancy sighs, not wanting to hear you both argue like kids anymore. "Okay. Come on Robin, you've had enough time in the front seat." She skillfully maneuvers Robin out the front seat and buckles her into the back with them, all in the blink of an eye. "Thank you." You give her a sickly sweet smile and shoot Eddie a nasty look. A couple more turns and you arrive at Steve's house.

 "We're here, kids. Get the hell out of my car." You joke. "Let me remind you to never have kids." Eddie chuckles. You try your hardest to seem indifferent from that and the banter you had with him in the car, but your demeanor still slips from under your hands. "Right, says the druggie and seller. Plus, I don't think your house is in living condition for kids or anyone ever." You slam your car door, locking it and marching up to Steve's door with a tired look plastered on your face. 

"Hah, she called you a druggie. Me personally, Eddie. I wouldn't take that." Robin laughs, leaning on Nancy's shoulder as she pulls her out the backseat. Eddie punches her arm, "Yeah whatever. And you know damn well that you'd take that." 

"Yeah, I would." She bites her lip in thought.

You bang on Steve's door again, pulling out your phone to call him since he still hasn't answered the door. You guys have been standing out on the porch for what, 5 minutes? "Knock again, maybe you didn't do it hard enough." Nancy suggests. You knock again, putting your ear to the door. "Oh wow, look at Sherlock over here." He taunts and you flip him off. "Shut up. There's music blasting through the door. No wonder he can't hear us." "Okay well, can you make him hear us, because Robin's really heavy." Nancy readjusts Robin on her shoulder while you dial Steve's number on your Cityman Nokia. "Well, aren't you updated with the times?" Eddie glares at your phone. It had just dropped at the beginning of the year. Within seconds of it ringing the door flies open with a casually dressed Steve leaning against the doorway and a turkey sandwich in his hand.

 He takes a bite, "So how was the drive?" A genuine question that you can't help but lean into his chest, head first. "Haha, very funny. You knew damn well what you were doing when you said I was driving." You put more of your weight onto him and he pats the top of your head for comfort. "Oh haha. Lemme guess, Robin road in the front?" You nod, "Damn, drunk?" You nod again as he looks up from the top of your head to Robin. "Damn, want a sandwich?" You nod once more. "Can we please hurry this interaction up or give me a hand." Nancy gestures to Robin. Steve finishes his sandwich and shuffles you inside.

——

"Mhm! Oh my god, Steveeeee." You moan, dancing in your seat. "This is so good!" Eddie rolls his eyes at your chipperness. The entirety of bacon, lettuce, tomato, avocado, and turkey all toasted on one sandwich. Steve laughs, enjoying your enjoyment. "Glad you like it. I usually have mine with chips, but I ate the last bag yesterday."

 "That's fine. Got any pop?" You bounce happily in your chair before your mood is abruptly ruined by Eddie interjecting from the other side of the island. "I'm sorry, what? Pop? You mean soda? Hell, I'd even take soda pop or fizzy pop, but just pop?" You stop dancing to give emphasis to you not liking his tone or the fact that he was talking to you in general. "Yes, just pop. Steve knows what I'm talking about anyway. Isn't that right?" You put a hand out waiting for said drink to be put in your hand. The refrigerator opens and closes and the cold drink is placed into your palm then you shove it in his face. It was Coca-cola. Eddie sighs, fingers rubbing the space between his eyes, not bothering to continue the argument. "Dingus." You say under your breath, cracking open the can. 

"So, what do you guys want to do?" Steve pauses, rounding the counter and plopping down on the floor across from Nancy and Robin. "Because I don't have a movie planned."

 A sharp gasp comes from Robin. "No Fast Times?"

"No? That movie is worn out anyway. Maybe another day though." He says, getting up to look at his movie catalog before Nancy excitedly jumps up. "YES! THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING. IT'S SO WORN OUT." She says, earning a silent laugh from you. You catch Eddie glaring at you once more. "Why can't you ever take your eyes off of me? I always catch you staring." You say, finishing your sandwich. "Because, I'm just so in love. Your beauty is captivating, my love." He says, almost making it sound genuine, but the hint of sarcasm gives it away. "Oh, watch out. You almost made me fall for it." You finish your sandwich and join the others in the living room.

"How about marry, kiss, kill?" You suggest, taking a memory foam pillow from the sofa and sitting down at the coffee table. Robin suddenly takes interest in the convo ever since getting shut down for the movie. "Ooooh, good one. How about we add fuck, too. Just to spice it up." 

 Eddie joins the rest of you in the living room, plopping down on the sofa between Nancy and Robin as she starts the game. "Hmm. Nancy, you first. Jason, Fred, Chance, and Steve." Her face scrunches up with every name drop, the look of disgust written all over it. "Fred?! You just had to put that one in there." She pauses, shooting Robin a devastated look as you snicker. Oh the betrayal. Robin rolls her eyes, finally starting to come back to herself after all the cups of cold water Nancy shoved down her throat. "Oh come on, spit it out." 

"Alright, fine. This is speaking as if me and Jonathan aren't together, okay? Marry Steve. Kill Jason. Kiss Fred. Fuck Chance." The group's eyes go wide with surprise. "Have you always thought about killing my ex?" You tease, looking offended, but you really weren't. Hell, you'd help with the murder. "Yes! Oh my god he's such a dickhead. I talked to him for the newspaper and he was sunshine and smiles during it, then turned around and tried to tell me how to do my job after. Saying stuff like," She pauses, clearing her voice to mimic his dopey voice. "Oh, don't forget to add the part where I'm captain of the basketball team and how many shots I scored in the last game." Mind you, the question I asked him was, "How do you feel about the bullying incidents and what would you do to prevent it?" Since he's supposed to be one of the school leaders. Ugh, he just gets on my nerves. I'm so glad you dumped his ass because I cannot stand by and let one of my friends date a literal piece of shit on the floor." Her manic rant stops as she places her hands back on her lap, not realizing she was using them to talk in the first place. 

 "So…Um, fuck chance huh?" Steve says, picking the conversation back up. "Yeah. I've talked to him a couple of times for the newspaper club and he's really nice. Plus he's got nice hair and facial structure." She waits for responses, but everyone just looks around in agreement. "Okay, Y/n." From the way she says your name, you know she's about to fuck you up with this one. "Gareth, Eddie, Andy, and Patrick." "Ugh. Two people each from the 'freak' and 'dickhead squad.'" You ignore the glare from Eddie and put your elbow on the coffee table in front of you, leaning into your hand in thought. "Okay, I think I got it. Marry Gareth. Kiss Andy. Fuck Patrick. Kill Eddie." You close your eyes and list all of them on one hand, some laughs, some eye rolls, specifically one from Eddie. "You'd fuck Patrick but Kill me?" "Yeah, I was shocked. Eddie is very fuckable." Steve says while Robin agrees, getting a sideways look from Nancy. "Not fuckable by me of course. I just meant that as a compliment if I was straight. You know?" She clarifies. "He's got a cute face, nice hair, and he's the perfect height. I wouldn't mind being married to that cutie pie. I feel bad though because he's probably so innocent, he looks it too. I'd ruin him with our relationship." You laugh. "Oh well. It's not like I wouldn't love doing that anyway." "Yeah right. As if my princess could ruin anyone." Eddie stares you down from the couch, thighs clenching from his whole demeanor and 'my princess'. "Don't call me that and I'm not yours." You say in a hushed tone. "It's fun to watch you deny that nickname. I know you love it, princess." He inches closer to you.

 "I don't." You inch.

 "Do." He inches.

 "I hate it as much as I hate you." You inch.

 "I also find that hard to believe." He stops inching closer, anymore and you'd be kissing. You totally didn't want that. Robin would've joked around and said 'Kiss already!', but she didn't want the death glare and possible death that would come with it. She could see it now, both of you hovering over her as Eddie chokes her out and you high five him. Her face going blue and vision fading to black before going to the light or who knows maybe she was going to hell. She prayed she wouldn't. But this isn't about her, and that never happened, only in her drunken coming sober thoughts. Where it shall stay.

You both hover over the coffee table as the rest watch. He leaves you speechless, no clapback, not even a huff. Only a broken glare, but your silence says all he needs to know. You slam your hands on the table and walk away, visually startling everyone, but Eddie. He doesn't even flinch. "Don't you walk away from me!" Eddie follows after, his long legs mindlessly stepping over Robin's feet with ease as you two bicker. "Don't tell me what to do! You're not my dad." You storm the hallway, stepping into the closest room, being a guest bedroom. You try to shut the door in his face, but he's right behind you, hot on your heels. He gets a foot in the door as you shut it, luckily for him, his platforms are thick so it didn't do much damage. He flings the door open forcefully, sending you back into a dresser. He slams the door loudly.

"Should we do something?" Steve looks down the hallway from where he is. "Can you see anything?" Robin askes, but he shakes his head. "The door is closed." Nancy rubs her temples, "I feel like we should do something, but I don't wanna be the one to get hurt. Like what if they turn on me because I get in between their 'lovers quarrel'? I don't wanna find out." They both nod their head in agreement. "Yeah, I say we step in if we hear stuff being thrown or like actual violence. Right now we should be on standby." Steve announces as if it was a real plan. In reality, they just didn't want to interfere.

 Eddie cages you between the dresser and himself, so close you could feel his uneven breath on your face. Your bodies glued against each other, his leg separating both of yours, and brushing against your cunt. His hands on the outside of yours, chests almost touching if not the height difference. Both of you stand idly in this position, calming your breathing, taking a moment to assess the situation you've gotten yourselves into. You try to move from under him to clear your head, accidentally rubbing your cunt with the thigh that separates your legs. A moan almost slips, but you bite your lip, hoping he doesn't notice. He does. "Hm? Got something to say princess?" He hunches over you, easing down to your level. "Fuck you!" "You'd like that wouldn't you?" His leg shifts again, feeding your entrance and clit that delicious friction it hasn't had in a while. You let out a muffled curse, "You want my attention so bad." Eddie's face contorts into fake confusion, trying to brush it off. "What?" "You heard me. Always making little quips even when I'm not talking to you. When I am talking to you, you always tease me. It seems like you love talking to me. You can't get enough of it. If you hated me as much as you say, you wouldn't call me princess. It seems like I'm not the only one that enjoys that nickname." You smirk, seeing his composure crack before quickly recovering. "So, you do like that nickname?" Your face turns hot from embarrassment. Oops, you didn't realize you had let that slip out. You got ahead of yourself and your mouth ran faster than your brain. Now it's at the finish line and you're sitting there looking dumb at the start. "I, I don't." You don't even know why you're still lying at this point. You've been found out.

 "We both know that's a lie." His lips find your neck as he lifts you onto the brown hardwood dresser you've been pressed against. He settles his hips between your legs. "Fuuuuuck. Fuck you." You begin to trip on your words, every sentence comes out with a stutter in it. "Just say the word and this can all end." Your train of thought evaporates when he finds that sweet spot on your neck, stamping hickeys that will definitely show with your clothing choices. He notices your silence and starts to pull away, afraid that he overstepped. "Don't! Don't stop, please." Your begging goes straight to his groin and your arms wrap around his neck, ensuring that he won't go anywhere. "Oh? You sound so sweet for me, princess." You give in, not complaining about the nickname and focusing on the growing heat between your legs. It was just a stupid nickname that you might or might not think about in the shower while you imagine his head between your thighs. 

He takes his hand from your hips and slides it under your shirt, groaning when he's found with a bra. "What, can you not get it off by yourself?" You reach a hand behind to help him before he slaps it away. "No, I got it." He skillfully unhooks with one hand, your eyebrows lifting in surprise as he laughs. "I'm not a virgin and a loser. I pick and choose my struggles, okay?" He pulls your shirt above your head to be met with your breast. They sit perfectly on your chest, perfect size, perfect for your body, perfectly soft. He groans lowly while teasing your nipples, your tits fit perfectly into his cold ring-clad fingers. He plays with them like a kid with their first slinky, completely mesmerized, squeezing and squishing them together. His hot mouth encases one of your taunt nipples as you fight the urge to slip your fingers into his hair. "Go ahead. I know you want to." It's almost as if he read your mind. "I know you love the curls, all the girls do." You roll your eyes. "So, grip it if you need to." He smirks up at you through full black eyelashes, trailing his kisses lower to the waist of your jeans, which you didn't know he unbuttoned. His fingers slide against the skin of your hips, looping around your jeans and tugging them down your legs. Leaving the wet area on your panties exposed to him. "Well, would you look at that? You've soaked right through them." His words fluster you, but before you can reply, he's grabbing you by the back of your knees and pulling you closer to the edge, your ass only half way on the dresser now. He drops to his knees, your legs thrown over his shoulders, clutching one by the back of your knee again. He levels with your soaking cunt, giving it an experimental lick, not for you, but for himself. He slides your panties off, letting out a groan from the sight. Your beautiful pussy, glistening because of him. He runs a thick finger up your puffy folds to your clit, rubbing gentle circles as he watches your chest heave from pleasure.

 Eddie continues to mindlessly tease your sensitive clit. Pulling muffled and bitten back moans from you. You hoist yourself up, trying your best to roll your hips farther onto his face, but he holds you down. "Eager now, are we?." He nips around the area you need him the most. Kissing and licking your thighs. "You must want to get your hair pulled, whore." He bites at your thigh harder than before. "Says the one getting her pussy eaten by her "sworn enemy". Isn't that ironic?" "Oh shut up. You haven't even-" Your tongue gets caught in your throat blocking the moan that dares to leave your lips. 

It was supposed to be a petty lick to make you shut up and appreciate what he was giving you, but he couldn't believe how sweet you were. The lust clouding his brain, his dick hard and leaking precum, pressing impossibly hard against his jeans, all factors working together to drive him more crazy. He starts to lap at your pussy, slurping and suckling the juices as you try to pull away from the sudden pleasure, but the grip on your thighs tighten possessively. You glance down at him to see his eyes, pupils blown wide and clouded with lust. He's eating your pussy like a starved man, sloppy and the bottom half of his face soaked with your juices. He's wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking kisses to it when he slips a finger in you. God, your walls are so velvety soft and what he wouldn't give to be in them. His fingers could be in you for hours, past the wrinkling stage.

Loud moans and curses erupt from your throat, hoping your friends in the other room didn't hear. That somehow the loud noises went unheard or they were suddenly deaf. They didn't. They can and did hear everything.

"So… So, I guess they're not fighting anymore." Nancy pauses, picking stubborn threads from the old couch. "Um, yeah… So uh. PIZZA! Yea pizza, y'all wanna go get some pizza? I mean I didn't make either of you a sandwich earlier. You must be hungry." Steve tries to carry the convo while Nancy and Robin nod their heads in agreement. "Yup! Haha, absolutely famished." Robin says, really playing it up. "Yeah! I mean, like when was the last time we ate? Three days ago? Haha!" A heavy silence sits between the three of them, then Steve grabs his keys. "So! Um, let's go get that pizza!" Fake smiles emerge from all of them, trying to act like two of their friends weren't in the next room fucking. "Oh, Shot-"

"No Robin. You're not riding shotgun."

"Aw man."

 The loud shutting of the front door can be heard by you and Eddie, but you didn't care and apparently he didn't either. He begins to give your pussy little kitten licks. Fuck, is he teasing again? What is his problem? You're already dripping and desperate for him. He is enjoying this all too much. 

 You grab him by the hair, eliciting a moan and shove his face in your cunt. "Eat." You demand as Eddie looks up at you through those fucking eyelashes again. His hands resting on your marked up inner thighs. You weren't the only one enjoying the view, though. You thought you looked absolutely crazy right now, chest heaving unevenly, a sheet of sweat coating your body, your shirt sticking to your breast from the sweat and pupils blown out just like Eddie's, but he was loving it. If only he could pause time and save this image forever or had the artistic ability to paint this moment how he sees fit. The image alone could make him cum in his pants. You panting over him, fed up with his teasing and finally putting him in his place. He obeys, using the tip of his nose to rub circles on your clit as his tongue plunges in and out of you. Your head falls back against the mirror behind you.

 Both of your hands pull his hair as you roll onto his face, desperate moans pouring out of your mouth. He continues to moan into your pussy, coaxing you closer to your orgasm with vibrations. Your eyes shut when he slides two fingers in you, not wasting any time on delaying your orgasm. His efforts have your legs shaking in his grip as you gush on his face. He watches intensively, eyes flickering between your fucked out but satisfied face and your spasming pussy. Your precious moans turning into whines of his name as he fingers you into overstimulation. He slips his fingers out and slurps up the rest of your essence. 

 Your eyes open when you feel his lips on yours, tasting a bit of yourself on him. You moan into the kiss, giving his tongue the opportunity to explore your mouth. Your hands move to his chest, pushing him back to slide off the dresser. You push him backwards towards the bed and drop to your knees. Placing one hand on the wet tent in his pants before he grabs it.

 "I want to." You assure him before he says anything.

 "But you don't have to."

 "But I want to."

 "I said you don't have to."

 "I said I want to."

 "Fine! I don't want you to then." You look at him in confusion before he continues.

 "I don't consent. I won't let you." You narrow your eyes at him before dropping the topic. "You're a weird one, Eddie Munson." You start to gather your clothes and head to the bathroom. "Oh, can you change out here?" He says, ushering ahead of you and shutting the door. "Oh, okay?"

Eddie shuts the door behind him, his eyes falling on the situation in his pants. He manically searches the bathroom for a rag he can use to clean the cum out of the inside of his pants, luckily it didn't soak through yet. Yet. He undoes his studded belt and lets his pants fall to the floor, finding a rag and scrubbing the best he can with hand soap. He can be heard huffing and puffing from outside the door, "Hey Eddie. Lemme ask you a question." He nearly jumps out his skin. He thought you already got dressed and left. "Um okay? Shoot."

"How come you hate me so much?"

"Oh princess, I never hated you." He tries to multitask, but fails terribly and almost slips on the bottom of his pants. Luckily, he grabbed onto the sink.

"Oh yeah? Well, you always ignored me. Chrissy told you I had a huge crush and you still didn't make a move or try to talk to me."

 "Oh yeah. That. To me you were such a sweet girl. I thought you were too good for me and you'd leave me in the dust with nothing but my heart to hold." He stops scrubbing, reminiscing about the said times. 

 "You were too good to be true. You were too good for me. You were top of our class and you already had colleges knocking at your door. I didn't have dreams that big. I didn't want to dim your light." He trails off, starting back to scrubbing.

"Why didn't you let me make that decision? I should get to choose who I hang out with." He can hear you stepping closer until you finally lean against the door, back first he assumes. 

"I just wanted the best for you." He takes a dry towel and soaks up as much of the wetness as possible. Almost dry. He fits his pants back on, opening the door slowly to ensure you had enough time to move. 

 Then he feels a fist against his chest. "I hate you, you know." He smiles down at you, "From someone that was rubbing their pussy on my face, I don't believe that." You both walk out the door into the hallway to be met with the smell of pizza and your group of friends plus Chrissy. "Oh hey! I ran into these guys at Domino's." She grabs a slice and holds it out to you two. "Pizza?" 

[thewertsearch]

?CG: WE'RE ALL SORT OF COOKING UP A PLAN RIGHT NOW. ?CG: MY RIGHT NOW. ?CG: WHICH IF SUCCESSFUL, MAY, AND I DO STRESS MAY, END UP WITH ALL OF US MEETING FACE TO FACE.

I'm interested in where, exactly, their rendezvous is going to be. I had a bit of a think, and came up with four plans that could bring these teams together.

The trolls could join the human session, to escape the Demon.

The humans could join the troll session, to help them defeat the Demon.

Both parties could rendezvous in some tertiary location, such as the Furthest Ring.

Both parties could connect to each other, and establish a tertiary, sixteen-player session.

There's a problem with three of these options, though. Namely, if the two teams were planning to share a session, then Karkat would have no reason to be uncertain about whether they would meet.

A plan involving the Furthest Ring, however, requires the cooperation of the Horrorterrors. Who knows how that could end?

?CG: AND WHAT I'D LIKE TO AVOID IF AT ALL POSSIBLE ?CG: IS TO HAVE THIS RENDEZVOUS INSTANTLY DETERIORATE INTO A LOT OF REVOLTING TROLL/HUMAN SLOPPY MAKEOUTS.

There is literally nothing under any sun, Green or otherwise, that could prevent this from happening.

?CG: GOD DAMMIT, IT'S NOT EVEN LIKE YOU DON'T HAVE ACTUAL HUMAN FEMALES NEARBY FOR ACTUAL BIOLOGICALLY VIABLE MATESPRITSHIPS! [...] CEB: rose and jade? [...] CEB: you want us to like, date them?

Jade/Dave has potential, but I don't see Rose/John working out - and not just because of Kanaya. Romantic tension in Homestuck is usually pretty obvious, and I haven't observed any between those two.

?CG: WOULD IT REALLY FUCKING KILL YOU TO CONSIDER IT?????? ?CG: I MEAN GOD. WHAT DO YOU EVEN THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE IN THIS GAME? ?CG: YOU'RE CREATING YOUR OWN UNIVERSE TO GO LIVE IN. ?CG: AND JUST HOW DO YOU THINK YOUR SPECIES IS SUPPOSED TO REPOPULATE ITSELF??????????? IDIOTS.

Four humans can't seed a population, even if they weren't two pairs of siblings. Ectobiology wouldn't help, either - the gene pool is just too small.

This isn't the real reason that Karkat wants the kids to avoid dating trolls - but I also think he'd have trouble understanding why it's not a viable plan. Trolls don't work like that.

CTG: ok youre by far the worst artist out of any of us CTG: and thats saying something ?CG: SHUT UP I DREW IT FAST

ha!

?CG: AS YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE, THERE ARE ONLY TWO SETS OF COMPATIBLE QUADRANTS HERE FOR LEGITIMATE CONCUPISCENT PAIRINGS.

I wouldn't have expected Karkat of all people to go full hetero - especially since the ecto-machines could almost certainly merge John/Dave or Rose/Jade. Methinks he's applying 'not a homosexual' a little too broadly.

CEB: wow, i have to marry rose? CEB: uh… CEB: wow.

Just like with Vriska, this is all new to John.

I don't get the sense he's ever thought about romance with Rose - she's just his friend. Up until now, he hasn't seen her as anything else.

CTG: it was so much cooler when you were asleep and i basically never had to listen to you ever ?CG: I CAN'T GO TO SLEEP CEB: why not? ?CG: BECAUSE I'M TOO TIRED TO EXPLAIN WHY IS WHY. ?CG: YOU'LL FIGURE IT OUT LATER.

What's the problem, Karkat?

No recuprecoon? No dream self? Both, in tandem?

Guess we're about to find out!

[resizura]

hi, i am putting this on anonymous because i am shy. what are some themes you would like/wish the remakes to expand on?

I'm answering this late I am very sorry

SO this is a lot for me to think about and hopefully i can keep it concise because I tend to ramble

Put under a 'Read More' because this will be super long

To start, I think that I just wish Capcom wouldn't be so lukewarm with its themes. This is probably the biggest problem because (to me, at least) it can't focus on what it wants to tell the audiences.

They are obviously trying to make the series way more "serious" and yet they completely tone down its foundational messages. Sure some of that has to do with the more actiony tone it took after RE4, but let's just back up to the original trilogy.

RE1, RE2, and RE3 were essentially a three-part and yet self contained story that followed a small cast of police officers (save claire and carlos) during the zombie apocalypse. An apocalypse that was caused by corporate greed and the need to capitalize and profit off of scientific research for militarization purposes. While a little silly and outlandish in the final product, the three games (especially 2, IMO) have great storytelling and execution of its themes. Umbrella and Raccoon City Police are corrupt, and there are terrible ethics surrounding BOWs.

Now compare that to the remakes. Now, RE1make is my favorite remake because it kept the original feel and look to the game, kept the story relatively the same, and improved on it in terms of voice lines, graphics, and gameplay. The only major change is adding Lisa Trevor, who I think is a great addition because we get to follow the Trevor family through the game and get a look at how Umbrella exploited them and made them into monsters, a personal touch on something hard for us to comprehend.

RE2make and RE3make on the other hand.... well now we have around 20 extra years of Resident Evil to influence these and if you're familiar with my blog, you'll know that story wise, I do not like these games (especially RE2make). These games changed so much of the original story to make them more "realistic" and in the process, sort of lost the plot. Too many times in the modern remakes, things happen that hint to something from the original games but overall? It's not there.

As an example, I want to go over specifically how the police chief Brian Irons is portrayed. In the original game, the player learns little bits about him through files. We know he's dangerous, violent, and has been taking bribes from Umbrella. The bribes are to help him have control over the city. He was highly influential in the Spencer Mansion cover up, where his main role was shutting down STARS so they wouldn't be able to investigate the incident. He worked directly with William and Annette Birkin and took bribes to prevent police from investigating the sewers so their lab work was undisturbed. In RE2, we see him spiraling because "Umbrella destroyed his beautiful town." He traps and kills police officers and innocent civilians, basically rants to Claire about how power hungry he is and he is the one who gets to choose who lives and dies in his police station. Basically, we see point blank that Irons is egotistical and wants nothing more than to keep that power for himself. A corrupt police chief who shows how money and power twist a person for the worse.

In RE2make, he is reduced to just a sick man who physically beats up the young female characters and just wants to torture people. While the bribes are still (briefly) mentioned in this game most of Irons' character is now "Look at how sick this guy is! Isn't he scary? Wow! He's so scary isn't he?" There's nothing about his need and desire for power and control over his city and police station (hell, he leaves the police station 3 seconds after he's introduced!). Sure, you could argue it's implied, but this is a perfect example of Capcom not really committing to something it strongly depicted in the past.

Looking at RE4 Remake, a similar issue occurs! The original game was vehemently anti-American. The file "Our Mission" is the most explicit you can get. Yet the remake tiptoes around it and honestly ends up more patriotic! Leon's role as a government agent is glorified, Ashley wants to be an agent, Krauser gets told off by Leon for not trusting the American government, and the lack of Saddler appearances all contribute to this! Death Island and Infinite Darkness had similar problems of Capcom calling out the American government but then backtracking at the last second. I want them to just stick to a theme for once! Not alluding to one or tiptoeing around it. Say it!

Next on the list is one that I've stated before but the actual ethics and humanity that organizations like Umbrella toy with. A lot of the BOWs feel just like monsters you fight when a lot of them were real people with their lives taken from them. This is also why I liked Lisa Trevor from the first game's remake since she was a human experimented on and we got taken through her and her parent's journeys. OG William Birkin and Remake William Birkin are also perfect examples of this. In the original game you feel like you're fighting Birkin, but in the remake it just feels like a depersonalized monster.

Similarly, I do wish some of the themes were done more tastefully, such as the whole eugenics stuff with Spencer and the Wesker projects. I don't think it should be completely scrapped but I feel like you can't just throw that into your games and barely talk about what it means lmao

This is not really a theme but better perspectives on the female characters. This is purely a personal opinion but I think horror with female protagonists is way cooler than ones with male protagonists, and weirdly enough I think this shift happened when RE4 came out. Jill and Claire were more fleshed out and important characters than Leon and Chris when the OG trilogy came out, but now their roles have been greatly reduced to practically nothing. And why was RE6, a game where a creepy man cloned Ada Wong more about Leon, Chris, and Jake than it was about Ada herself? Also, I wish we could've had either of RE7 or RE8 actually have Mia be the protagonist instead of Ethan because I think either of those games from her perspective would be super cool to experience.

Now that I think about this, I blame this purely on the action shift because even for the male characters, I greatly prefer OG2 Leon, OG2/CVX Chris, CVX Steve than OG4 Leon, OG5 Chris, and DSC Steve (although Remake Carlos is definitely above OG3 Carlos). I want to learn more about Jill, and Claire, and Ada, and Rebecca, and Mia, and pretty much most of the female characters, and I'm so sick of seeing the male characters who are only there because they're cool action heroes.

I wish RE focused more on small communities and small isolated things. I think RE is too big now. Like starting out in a small suburban town affected by murders and experimentation and now like we've gone to multiple parts of the globe and now there's a mold baby with mold superpowers in the future and that mold is actually what started everything (totally not retconned)?? Like let's dial it back.

For the last thing I'll mention is that I wish the remakes focused on the themes of horror rather than just the aesthetics of it. Like yeah, the games are a bit darker and scarier, but they're still more action games now. I loved RE7 because of this, because the Bakers were a good horrific family both in the looks and what they represented!

I think all in all I have a lot of wishes for the franchise and I know it's completely unrealistic to wish about them and sorry for bombarding everyone with this huge wall of text! I have a lot to say lmao

[vermillioncourt-if]

So this is not ment for you dear author, but as criticism the people voting in the poll.

Wow...looking at the current poll, it just screams ignorance...now you are probably asking yourself what i mean, well let me explain:

Imagine that there is a person, who really likes this IF and likes one certain (in this case female)character especially and is ok with smut, but is a strict top, cause they may feel uncomfortable with giving away the rains, out of whatever reasoning(could be related to trauma etc.), now this person could not "play" the 18+ scenes of certain ro, cause this could trigger smth, and would be "forced" to either choose another ro, or not read/play this IF.

Now, i think when voting for "let everything be as it is" you are just plain ol' ignoring that these people do actually exist and are like "well not my problem", which is just so ignorant.

Personally, i would just say, the characters should behave accordingly to how the mc/player flirted with the chosen ro i.e. if you were more shy = ros more dominant or letting the player choose if the ros should take initiative or not before an 18+ scene would start.

Also this i not ment as "hate" against the people who voted, but i felt like i needed to say this, and i know it probably won't change shite.

And yes, i did throw my opinion in there and people are gonna have other opinions, so i hope that this will not any drama or smth, cause of that we have enough in the world already, also hope this wasn't too much of a wall of text dear author.

Anyways, have a good day yall <3

Hello Anon. I know you were not speaking to me and I'm not addressing that portion, but I felt the need to respond to say that I can't see the results in real time unless I voted myself and skewed the results (yeah tumblr's polls could use some work), so I'm not even sure how it's looking right now!

That said, I do know that people aren't able to change their vote once it's cast, so if anyone wishes to change their vote because of what Anon has said, just send me an ask with your original vote and then the new one and I'll calculate it by hand when the poll is up!

Thanks guys!

[mercair]

Oh wow, Annabun!

Woostern! Well, i don't think she'd have any problem with Annabun, in fact, the story of suddenly snapping on set and attacking your co-workers is traumatically familiar to her. I hope they can get along despite her manic behavior.

Bonslick. Well, as usual, it seems to be some kind of reflex for him to immediately try to flirt with any pretty woman he meets, even though he knows that the possibility of him getting smacked in the face or even worse, is like 100%.

Left-E! Being a fellow bunn-e doesn't mean you're allowed to go insane inside the stablishment, ma'am! If she ever snaps in front of Left-E, he'll have no other option than to forcefully kick her out!

Sonatta! Well, it'd be nice to meet another fallen female celebrity, i'm sure she'd love to have a little chat with her sometime! Her vision of this world is a little worrying though, i mean, this place sure isn't "heaven", but she wouldn't really call it "hell" either...

Quiddo! So her limbs are stretchy, huh... Quiddo would try to see how far she can stretch. Mischiveous. And Quiller... Her awareness for the player is certainly fascinating, not a lot of creatures have that capability... She might be of interest to it.

Shikari... Eh, i don't think she'd care about her, she doesn't like cartoons.

And Sakriss... Funny enough, something similar happens to him. He could leave the graveyard anytime he wants, but yet he feels trapped. Sadly he doesn't get all this movie star thing, and he's extremely introverted, so i'm afraid they'd have nothing to talk about

Link if you wanna read about Annabun!:

[semi-imaginary-place]

ffxiv 5.x dancer, gunbreaker, blue mage

dancer: thravnair is such a weird mix of victorian london and orientalist eroticized middle east. so you have heavy cotton blouses and corsets and then... dancer costume bikinis. also i cant be the only one that thinks the dancer specific sets look better on female character models like ok get rid of the bra to a "vest" but why change the color that's a good red, or if you're going to change the color at least go with something interesting like a peacock green/blue. waht was that questline in kugane about dancers. dancer didn't exist. oh it was weaver. i liked that one. although the lore drops were mind bending. this plot is really contrived. should have just stuck to dance troupe touring the continent. ah yes distracting the masses from systemic problems instead of actually solving said problems. sounds like we're the propaganda machine, a tool of the state to suppress discontent. you're going to dance in the middle of nowhere instead of inside ishgard? i think this is the worst questline i've seen since heavensward. also how are you a famed historic dancing trope when you have 1 apprentice dancer and that's it. and after so much emphasis on how Ranaa is just a girl and so young just declaring her the successor is kinda of stupid. nashmeira staying just for eorzea seems like a flimsy excuse for ranaa to become leader also like it's not only eorzea that has suffered. I'd argue a lot of garlean occupied territory is worse off and since radz at han has official ties to the garlean empire you have like visas and can legally get in where the player character can't. also why train recruits in eorzea instead of in thravnair.

gnb: sophie's comments on gridania was a nice touch. i get the feeling it's going to a plot point when someone confuses sophia for editha. why would you continue you walk after getting attacked. the smart thing to do would be to assume another one along the route is planed and cancel for the day. oh at the beginning the bandits got sophia confused. cabbage fairy! ok i love this. this is the wrong story to tell about domestic abuse. the devs set up what looks like an abusive stalker ex but oh no the woman was lying and evil all along. women already struggle enough getting others to believe spousal abuse and rape is real without stories like this. Like npr just had a story today about how Kazakstan a few years back just outlawed spousal abuse and now has their first big public case about it. so a story with that setup but jk the woman is just a liar is in bad taste. sophia has a somnus addict radar apparently. Radovan had a wife and kid. I was under the assumption that most hrothgar weren't doing monogamy or marriage (in the american sense anyways) but had many men and one queen. I wonder if Radovan was a part of less traditional society and or married a woman of a different race. wow the yellowjackets are giving a pretty important job to a bunch of new adventurers with no record. I've gotta say I'm quite charmed by radovan. sophie mentioned she was part of some resistance, I wonder why she decided to give up the fight. aw no need to leave sophie behind after all the core tenent of party battles is dps is mitigation.

what is radovan up to with cato this reminds me of the yellowjackets in the last quest. bozja... ugg i don't wawnt to grind in bozja but i want the lore... lol radovan took mamula right past the ishgard front gates. ther's been good thematic development through out these quests all building up to engineer dude from the harpsicordist hiding jealousy to the father gambling away his family and trying to win them back, to cancer criminal overlord confessing. Each as been an escalation in scale as well as the remorse and attempts to compensate for their wrong doings. this questline is going hard and straight with the promises must be kept, your word is binding. anon client is sus i wouldn't take a job with so few details. yup a trap. and he isn't even a full blood garlean so he'd never be truly respected or promoted.

typos in chat! even with audade down why would garlemad stop pursuing mammula. also bozja was 10+ years ago why defect now. "its not for me to judge him" as one of those directly affected yeah it is, it's not for pc or sophie to judge him but you can radovan. honestly we could have just waited in revenant's toll for this dude or tried to intercept him in limsa or ishgard since we're several days behind. chasing each other in circles smh. sophie could always go along with the rebuilding project too but I don't think she'd like bozja. bro... drop the contact info, how are bozjans suppose to find you. also i get for the quest pacing but like go grab dinner together at least. i should introduce radovan to eric, they'd either hate each other or love each other. More than a cat radovan reminds me of a dog. When that dude started talking bout catching a lion instead of a goat i did think he was talking about radovan and got a little skeptical.

blu: i do think this premesis is flawed, if "the new word" is the americas analogue than it's about equal distance from hingashi and eorzea who's to say some blue mages didn't make the trip west across the sea. what's a trip to a foreign land without being robbed blind? new lore drop martyn can tell namazu apart uh martyn do you have an international copyright on you'r sales pitch and job stone? yeah questionable since white and black are eorzea forbidden arts. i don't actually think fuukumen festival is cutting into the masked carnival profits all that much, they are catering to VERY different geographic audiences. customers in kugane wouldn't be goinging all the way to uldah just to see the masked carnival. oh good i don't actually have to do masked carnival. do you know how long it took me to do dirty rotten azumagia. i even remember the name from the weeks it took me! uh did kageyama replace gogo? that's amon's reskinned model doesn't even look like a roe.

noooooooooooooooooooooooo they just animated the into i actually have to fight him... this is bad for my nerves. well i got to second phase. i wonder if i can final sting. after interrupting mimicked imp song I can't heal. I now I interrupted it since I get the big flashing INTERRUPTED text on the cast bar. i'll deal with you later or maybe never. where's my extra easy job quest instance mode... Trying to do blue mage Anything Gogo and after interrupting mimicked imp song I can't heal. I now I interrupted it since I get the big flashing INTERRUPTED text on the cast bar. Anyone know what is happening. This is way before the doom spell casting even starts. I'm on healer mimicry with exuviation. DAMN YOU BLUE MAGE QUESTS LOCKING STORY CONTENT BEHIND ACTUAL SKILL CHECKS I HATE YOU MASKED CARNIVAL. it's like dark souls. the difficulty is being able to memorize a pattern of specific spells and when to use them, once you memorize the pattern it's all reflexes, there's no creativity. i hate dark souls. I like there being challenge content in this game, I just don't want story content to be gated by it.

restarted my game and tried the next day and didn't run into this problem. beat the stage idk what was going wrong yesterday. i don't think an ul'dahn court of law has any jurisdiction in kugane i mean uldah isn't even in alliance with hingashi. was this one giant thing about copyright and pirating.

[quenthel]

the problem w wow (and also warhammer) is that they made their premise (ehtno-states locked in a forever war) incredibly fascist and as they are slowly taking steps away from this core concept the fascist userbase that got attracted not despite but because of these deep rooted concepts is getting mad but they dont want to drive them away entirely bc they are paying customers who bring in the profit the franchise owners rely on.... like esp wow has trouble attracting new players in general because both the presentation and the core gameplay is archaic at this point (like wow is a 20 year old video game) and the reason it got popular to begin with bc wow was a very very easy platform on which people could connect (and immediately have a shared interest/spend a LOT of time together on) but nowadays social media just does that more effectively so its hard to convince new players to spend money on this exclusive thing that feels outdated and is not exactly in line w contemporary sensibilities (like i think more n more people are getting more critical of fantasy's inbuilt racist elements for example, and its stuff wow just uses casually and often) and honestly it sucks ass bc both franchises have some good groundwork to tell very impactful and exciting stories but it happens very rarely bc the right wing aligned fans will flip out at anything and everything that is not strictly according to their worldwiev and they picked wow to be their little safe haven from the "woke world" or whatever and blizzard (and games workshop) cant afford to upset and drive away these fans too much so the cycle continues... like both franchises TRY a little bit in order to gain new fans (like addig explicitly gay background characters in wow, or adding the female custodes) but these steps are always very small and very skin deep

[raschuuuu]

Summary: Y/N is a famous YouTube vlogger and Ruben Dias a famous professional football player. They've been friends for a few months but never met. Now it's finally time for them to meet but what happens when one of them falls in love?

PART 3

Raiting/genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Pairings: Ruben Dias x female reader

Word count: 1229 words

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

It was 12:23 p.m. when Ruben and I finished our phone call. He told me he's arriving in London tomorrow night and he'd like to have dinner with me, Brett and Arabella. I didn't know what to do, so I was forced to call Brett and tell him the truth. I called him FaceTime and after ringing three times he answered. "Hey, why don't you go to sleep?", he said. "Brett, listen, I have a huge problem," I said desperately. "Hey, what's going on, tell me,"

 "Do you remember when I went to Manchester a few weeks ago?", - "Yes...", I took a deep breath.

 "You have a boyfriend?" he screamed and he had a big smile on his face. "No, Brett. Now listen to me. A few months ago, Ruben Dias slipped into my DM's, he's a football player in Manchester City. I know you don't know football much as a dancer, but he's pretty famous, and his team has won almost every trophy you can win this year and Brett he is so fucking hot. And when I was in Manchester, I visited him. We're just friends!!!"

Brett listened attentively to me and I saw that he was trying to suppress his laughter the whole time.

"Looks like he's got a new girl and they've been watching my vlog with you. They think you and I are a couple. Now the girl has come up with the glorious idea of going on a double date. They don't know you're gay, I didn't want to tell him. I can understand if you don’t-„

„Girl, are you crazy? Of course I pretend to be your boyfriend. I can look pretty straight and pretend to be straight. Let's go on this double date and make Raven jealous. - "Ruben," - "Huh?", - "His name is Ruben. And why should we make him jealous, I don't find him-„

 "Y/N shut up. I know you're into him because otherwise you'd have said I was gay and look at you shaking, so you can't fool me."

The next morning, Ruben wrote me a message that he and Arabella were on their way to London. He sent me an address from a restaurant. He's booked four seats for 7:00 pm. Brett and I met early in the morning, went shopping together, had breakfast together, and got ready for the dinner. We've made a plan that makes us look the best as a couple. His idea was to hold my hand all night or put his arm around me and then he's gonna give me some kisses. I didn't have a problem with him kissing me, I mean, it's not like he's into women again after a few kisses. We called a cab that took us to a noble neighborhood here in London. The restaurant looked so fancy from the outside, and in front oft hat restaurant were so many expensive cars. I've been to this neighborhood a lot, but I've never been to a restaurant or a bar because it's too expensive here. A waiter greeted us at the entrance. I told him Ruben's last name, and he said he's already there with his girlfriend. Brett and I smiled at each other. SHOWTIME. He took my hand when the waiter brought us to the table I saw Ruben and his girlfriend there... Wow, she was really pretty. They got up when they saw us. She was a tall woman with medium-length blond hair, blue eyes, beautiful thick lips, and a fantastic body. I was the exact opposite of her. I was a little shorter, brown hair, dark eyes, and my body was normal. She had a nice tight dress that emphasized her figure. Her butt was very nice, you can tell she goes to the gym a lot. I started to feel insecure and uncomfortable.

Ruben had a big smile on his face and hugged me. "It's so good to see you again, I missed you." He whispered in my ear. I noticed the butterflies in my stomach were just freaking out. When he let me go, his girlfriend came up to me. "Hi, I'm Arabella, I'm a big fan! I love your videos," she said, hugging me. I was really hoping she might be a mean or arrogant girl, but she's a fan of mine, and with my fans, I'm getting weak. I can't be mean to my fans. You still have to stay grounded, and it doesn't make me a better person when I treat you mean. "You're so pretty!", she said. I hugged her back and thanked her. I gave her a compliment back, of course. Ruben and Brett also greeted each other with a handshake, and now we were all sitting at the table. The first 10 seconds were an embarrassing silence, but then Brett eased the situation. That's why I love him so much. "So Ruben hello, it's very nice to meet you and thank you for inviting us. I'm a huge Manchester City fan. Congratulations on the treble this year, you really earned it," Brett said, and I had to smile. Brett did his homework this morning and a lot of research on Ruben and his team. Brett really doesn't know anything about football. He told me he only knows Ronaldo and Messi. Typical. "Thank you, Brett, it's nice to meet you, too," Ruben said.

"You never told me you had a boyfriend Y/N!" Ruben looked me in the eyes. "We met a few weeks ago and you didn’t mention a boyfriend. I was so surprised when I saw the video" –

"I can say the same thing back to you. I guess I just wasn't sure if Brett and I really belong together, but now I know I love him and I want to be with him. I'm sorry I didn't tell you last time Ruben," I said, and when I said that, Brett took my hand in his and kissed me on the cheek.

I saw that Ruben looked away when he kissed me. "They're so beautiful together, aren't they, Ruben?" said Arabella.

I have to be honest, Arabella talked most of the time. Ruben ate his food and barely said anything, but what I noticed was his eyes on me all the time. Arabella said she met Ruben on Instagram. Of course, he slided into her DM's. She showed me her Instagram account in which she had 1 million followers. She also told me that she joined a Love Island season and that's why she has so many followers. She's a typical bikini Instagram model. And she's six years older than Ruben. I was two years younger than him.

Brett and I sat close all night, and we had to suppress our laughter all the time. Because we sat so close to each other, he whispered things in my ear like hot Ruben is and that they really thought he was straight. He kissed me once in a while on my cheek. Ruben didn't say anything the whole time. Arabella's phone rang and she apologized for a moment, saying it was an urgent call. Brett winked at me and said he was going to smoke a cigarette. Now Ruben and I were alone at the table. I smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. "Are you all right?", I asked him. "No. I don't want you to be with him."

[appleciderp]

Hold onto your hats, because I want to rant about how Blizzard fucking sucks with women or any minority rep. And why it'll suck for your fav in whatever MW is coming up.

Fully inspired by this post, I'll be referencing to a few points that @spookykittenwrites made

As I said in those tags, I've been playing WoW since Burning Crusade, so I've known about the company since about 2007. I've not touched overwatch, but according to emp, their rep there is surface-level as well.

It's half me yelling about MW and half me yelling about how WoW fails in representation.

I have 0 faith in them with any sort of proper representation. I'll mostly be sticking to queers and women. I do have a small section about Gaz, but I'm white and keep that in mind.

Onto the bullshit

They're not gonna make any main character queer. This means Soap, Gaz, Price, and Ghost. Farah and Alex by extension. Most likely not Alejandro and Rudy. They won't risk the repercussions.

Hell, Alejandro is implied to have a family, but we skimmed over that part as a fandom.

What they will do, like Laswell, mention that a side/secondary/tertiary character has a partner, but won't put ANY thought into it. Laswell's wife could SHOULD have been talked about by name.

They don't CARE enough about their characters to even solidify her over a facade of rep that will make the queer people happy. It did in a sense, I am happy that she has a wife. But if you're bothering to have a line about her, just add a second. Like Price could ask "Oh, how's Madeline doing anyways?" or "Yea, you've told Jenny you'd stop smoking how many times already?"

WoW-wise, their queer characters are mostly surface-level. Which isn't bad in a world full of queer stories that are queer-centric. The problem is they don't have the balls to upset any fan by making a popular character explicitly queer in their portrayal. Hell it wasn't even THEM who made Matthias and Flynn queer, it was originally put into the novels (I believe Chrissy Golden?)

Here's a quote from an executive producer: "We don't try to put a big focus on it and make it a big deal, we just try to make the game feel comfortable, friendly and approachable for everybody"

I don't know about you, but using "comfortable, friendly, and approachable for everybody" as an excuse for why you don't have more outwardly queer rep (versus "hint around it") leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Because my sexuality or gender identity is uncomfortable for people? My existance is uncomfortable for people, so you don't want to explicitly say it???

but he implied that the devs don't think Pelagos is the first trans character. Fuck you. It's giving JKR saying that Dumbledore is gay, but it wasn't important to Harry's story. What isn't explicitly said in the source material is not canon.

They had, HAVE, the chance to make major players into canonically queer characters, but they're afraid of backlash. Vol'jin would have been so easily bi in canon, especially with his whole thing with Tyranthan in the fucking novel. And that Tyranthan went to his funeral??? even though they're on opposite sides????

Onto the next point, they don't and won't give a shit about the female characters. All I'm thinking about is the disappointing outcome of Tyrande's revenge after the burning of Teldrassil, hell even the whole Azshara thing. I'm not gonna go into detail about how it, just know it led to nothing. She didn't get revenge. She didn't have a satisfying end. Why? Probably because Sylvanas and Azshara are both more popular than Tyrande. Sylvanas probably being the WoW character with the most merch (not to mention the whole thing about a dev loving her).

Farah is gonna be brought up minimally, much like she was in MW II. Valeria/El Sin Nombre and most likely the Vaqueros will be completely forgotten. Maybe brought back (again like Farah was in MW II)

They're not consistent with their characters in the first place, why give a shit about a promise they made. It'll most likely be implied between games that some shit will be solved, or a line or two in the next game. Just so people get closure.

The surface level rep keeps going throughout. We have a bunch of diversity in the operators, but significantly less in the campaign, where the characters need to be fleshed out more than a written backstory and voiced lines.

How often have they shown Alex properly since he lost his leg?

The dudebro's are pissed that they changed Gaz, a mostly 1-dimensional character that died within the first Modern Warfare. Gaz is a good character, there's no reason that they're pissed about him vs them being pissed about any other member of the task force. But I've seen more hate on Gaz than any other 141. Which sadly leads me to conclude that they probably only dislike him due to his race.

But the aspect that isn't giving me much hope is the phasing out of Gaz in additional content. You're telling me the only POC in the 141 is not included in the red team? Out of all the dudes you could have removed?? Like I'm all for including Farah into the red team; but removing the only person of color on the team, one who was canonically in the Ghost Team mission, isn't the win they think it is.

Not to mention the numerous merch of the 141 that have Ghost, Price, and Soap; but not Gaz. With only 1 design containing Gaz.

And don't come at me that "those are the old designs though!" It's in their current website for sale. The 8-bit design is fairly recent within the last few weeks or so. Gaz is a main character in MW 2019 AND 2022. He deserves more than 1 solo shirt that is just the repurpose of the 141 shirt.

Onto the points brought up by @spookykittenwrites

Ghoap

Either won't be mentioned at all or will be excessively "haha we're just pals" kinda vibes.

They WILL play up the dynamic in trailers and such, as it did bring a new group of people to the games, and it seemed to make the dudebro's happy with their bromance.

Death

None of the main characters will be killed off. There's too much opportunity to make money off of their survival. So far the new games have been very light with the major character deaths. In the original games Soap and Price are the only 2 that survive past 1 game.

Roach

They're not gonna make him mute or selectively mute.

I do think they might bring back Roach to kill him off within the same Game though.

Hell, they might not even bring him back.

Farah and Alex

I honestly hope that we see them together, it might not happen. I think they're gonna keep the Farah/Alex line as the raid focus.

As for the no chemistry thing. Depends. If they're seen for 3.5 seconds they definitely won't. Hell, they aren't technically ever stated to be dating in canon AND the dudebro's get pissed that people are shipping them. Again with the not saying anything that'll upset the target audience.

For the Muslim aspect; not sure they even think about their own characters enough to have her religion mentioned in game. (They can't even get the bios straight when they update the game, I'm not gonna complain about this here)

Laswell's Wife

Important thing to remember, the line about her wife isn't even in every playthrough. It's a hidden one.

No doubt about her never being mentioned in my head. It only got past the dudebros because it's a lesbian couple. If it was a dude talking about his husband I doubt it would have gotten into the game.

US can do no Wrong

Definitely, the entirety of the blame will be on Russians. They did in fact blame a real US warcrime on Russians in the past.

Interestingly enough, the most recent info I can find is that the Military took out their funding post-sexual harassment allegations from Activision-Blizzard in December 2022.

Military Propaganda is still Military Propaganda even if the Military isn't funding it.

Moral of the story? The comfort of the dudebros, the target demographic for the game, will always be priority. They won't risk hurting their profits by claiming a character is queer or putting too much importance on a woman. Whatever their comfort level is, is what that we'll be getting.

I'm gonna stop my rant here... Don't go into the next game hoping to get some good rep.

On a slightly positive note: they are getting better. Farah was genuinely a good character in MW 2019. The fact that there's a mention of a same-sex partner, even in passing, is pretty good.

Also, enjoy the Christmas merch shirts that I found of Price and Ghost.

[scorbleeo]

Book Review: Warcross

Warcross (Book 1) by Marie Lu

Source: Google Images

For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life.

The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit. Struggling to make ends meet, teenage hacker Emika Chen works as a bounty hunter, tracking down Warcross players who bet on the game illegally. But the bounty hunting world is a competitive one, and survival has not been easy. To make some quick cash, Emika takes a risk and hacks into the opening game of the international Warcross Championships—only to accidentally glitch herself into the action and become an overnight sensation.

Convinced she’s going to be arrested, Emika is shocked when instead she gets a call from the game’s creator, the elusive young billionaire Hideo Tanaka, with an irresistible offer. He needs a spy on the inside of this year’s tournament in order to uncover a security problem . . . and he wants Emika for the job. With no time to lose, Emika’s whisked off to Tokyo and thrust into a world of fame and fortune that she’s only dreamed of. But soon her investigation uncovers a sinister plot, with major consequences for the entire Warcross empire.

ISBN: 9780399547966 (2017) | Source: Goodreads

Wow

I fell in love with Lu's stories when Legend came out. However, I fell out of love when I went on to The Young Elites. I was apprehensive, I heard so much good things about Warcross but then I was also bitten by Lu. I guess, that's why I only found some gumption to start this book in 2023, many years after its publication. And boy did it take me on a ride. I am back to being in love with Lu's stories.

Warcross is many things I love in a book. We have an Asian female protagonist who is very skilled but has her own flaws too. I did not love Emika until the very end of the book; when we found out Tremaine was able to hide pretty much everything about himself from Emika. You see, I love my female protagonists strong and independent but when they become too talented and perfect, things become boring.

Other than Emika Chen herself, there's also the founded family in Warcross. Technically speaking, they did not find each other like in your normal founded family trope. Nevertheless, a bunch of biologically unrelated people found each other and worked together so beautifully? I only wished I got to read more of Emika with her fellow teammates in this book.

Moving on, I love Hideo Tanaka. I might not agree with his ultimate actions but I understood where he was coming from. Not here to discuss his morals, I actually want to talk about the romance in Warcross. Sure, Emika and Hideo's chemistry is undeniable, right from that party with her in that dress onwards. However, I felt the romance was a little rushed. It obviously was not love at first sight with the two of them but the lack of interactions is why the romance felt rushed. And trust me when I say this, I don't really enjoy slow burn romances (especially if it's going to be dragged out for who knows how long) but I would have liked it more if the romance officially started in the next book? Keep the tensions in Warcross and romance in the sequel, you know?

I am aware I have only been talking about the characters but seriously, I cannot help it. The ones who matter are all so likeable.

Anyhow, more on the book, I have not touched a dystopian sci-fi book in a while and reading Warcross reminded me of how much I loved stories like this book. We really do not get enough of them. Lu's world-building in Warcross is not exactly original but there's just something so attractive about it. Also, this is an extremely easy world to get into in terms of understanding how the world works.

Like I said, Warcross has many things I like in a book. Well developed world, well created characters and well established relationships. The writing's easy to absorb, the pace was appreciatively fast, and a good bit of the book was packed with action. Also, although I had guessed Zero's true identity very early on in the book, the reason behind Zero's actions still kept me intrigued.

This really is one of the better YA dystopian futuristic sci-fi books out there.

Rating: ★★★★☆ (4.5/5)