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debunkingtherightwing · 3 months

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Matt Walsh's show is equal parts stupid and sociopathic

That smug expression, god I'm already hating this and I haven't even pressed play yet. (Source: Matt Walsh Show at the Daily Wire)

The year is 2024 and Matt Walsh is still...well himself. If last years episode where I stated that he blatantly lacks empathy didn't tip you off, I really do not like this guy. He's one of the smuggest and most openly sociopathic people in the conservative movement today, proudly arguing that rights should be taken away from trans people for the crime of simply existing and ranting about his fantasies of calling transwomen ugly men live on air (see the link above).

While there has been a rash of Michael Knowles coverage on this blog recently, mostly because he can't stop making a fool out of himself, I feel like this post is going back to the blogs roots since our first post here was about Matt Walsh.

Matt Walsh has started off 2024 in a predictably boring yet bigoted and miserable way with his first episode of the year being about the "trans agenda". Today Matt has a very gross episode for us so lets get into it shall we? Also he seems to think being straight is being gay so that's gonna be lovely to address.

03:50, Matt Walsh: "This week James Madison High School in Brooklyn cancelled classes so that busloads of hundreds of illegal migrants could move into the school during bad weather."

So, Matt's "main story" for todays broadcast is this high school in Brooklyn that was temporarily closed so that it could function as an emergency shelter for asylum seekers during a snow storm. The children at said school were made to do E-Learning for the time being.

While I personally think that New York City needs to find a more permanent solution to where to house asylum seekers during snow storms and the like, I support this decision from the standpoint of the city using what they have. Keep in mind that this was a winter storm and many of these families had small children with them. Many of said families could have very well died that day had the city not relocated them into that school. Considering that Matt Walsh is "pro-life" he should be happy that Brooklyn is preventing the unnecessary death of minors. However since these are brown skinned children, Matt responds with a predictably cold lack of empathy.

Naturally, wherever Matt and Conservative grifters like him go bomb threats seem to follow and this story is no exception. The school received a bomb threat after making the decision.

04:30, Matt Walsh: "This is so hard to believe. It's so contrary to the concept of a sovereign nation that I think it bares repeating. New York just ordered a public high school to displace American students, children who have every right to be in this country, in order to house criminal foreigners who crossed the border illegally."

Let's keep in mind that again, most of these people had children with them. I don't think using schools as shelters is a permanent or feasible solution but I also feel like given the resources the city was dealing with at the time it was the right thing to do. I would urge the city to find a better solution but I wouldn't criticize them for protecting a vulnerable group of people with children from dangerous weather.

Let's also keep in mind that this is a high school, not an elementary school. These aren't small children, these are teenagers and they are being asked to remote learn for a day. If this was an elementary school I would see the parents concerns here a lot more clearly, but you're telling me that teenagers can't stay home alone and learn remotely for one day? Odds are that remote school might have happened anyway due to the storm. This is simply racists lacking empathy for others.

05:45, Matt Walsh: "But even if we did know exactly who these migrants were it doesn't matter, they don't have a right to be in this country much less in our schools."

That doesn't take away the right that children and babies have to live. The school opened back up on Monday after the storm ended and everyone was fine, no "American children" died and no permanent mental distress occurred, but some children's lives may have been saved.

Again, one day of e-learning isn't going to kill anyone but being caught in a storm just might. While discussion should be had about how to properly and humanely house asylum seekers in NYC, this kind of inflammatory bigoted nonsense does not help the discussion.

06:09, Matt Walsh: "But we are putting adult foreigners above our own children"

Even in the video that Matt played of one of the parents screaming at the asylum seekers coming off the bus, children are clearly seen getting off as well. To omit the fact that most of these people had children and even babies with them is to omit a key part of why this decision was made in the first place.

But then again, if there's one thing Matt has made abundantly clear during his storied career of being a bigoted asshole it's that he doesn't care who dies as a result of the rhetoric he pushes.

This was obvious after the Club Q shooting in Colorado where instead of putting his bigotry to the side and acting like an actual human being in the face of a tragedy, Walsh doubled down on his hateful rhetoric and went on a deranged rant about drag queens. One of the more lovely quotes in said rant was;

"“If [drag] is causing this much chaos and violence, why do you insist on continuing to do it? If according to you it’s putting people’s lives at risk… why are you still doing it, is it that important to you?”

If this sounds like blaming the victims of a mass shooting for their own deaths, congratulations you have eyes! The point I am trying to make here is that Matt displays a disturbing pattern of not caring about the human cost of his own rhetoric and a lack of empathy towards the people in the stories he covers and it's no different here.

06:15, Matt Walsh: "And they're doing this at literal gunpoint by the way. And all the parents can do is film and all the parents can do is film or they'll be arrested and charged with hate crimes probably."

The police presence at the school isn't "literal gunpoint" but if Matt is so concerned about police presence that's a talk I would be willing to have, too bad that talk will never happen since going against the police would lead to conversations around police brutality that are a bit awkward for Matt's Conservative worldview.

Public high schools aren't public in the sense that anybody can do whatever they please with them, they are still owned by the government. As a result the government of NYC, knowing that this decision would be controversial and would attract right-wing attention, sent some officers to the school to ensure the safety of the asylum seekers and the enforcement of the decision. Also they wouldn't be charged for hate crimes, that notion is a completely absurd construction that Matt is putting forth to his bigoted audience to make them angry. If they were to be charged with anything, which I doubt they would be, it would be trespassing.

07:33, Matt Walsh: "By the way it's great that there are a few parents out there that are filming this and are expressing their outrage but the fact that every parent isn't out there protesting, the fact that there are only a few, is pathetic in and of itself."

Probably because most parents realize that one day of e-learning isn't that big a deal and is a small price to pay for saving the lives of some children and the ones who are out seem more concerned that it's a group of non-white people temporarily moving into the school.

Just a thought.

07:49, Matt Walsh: "Now there might be a reason for some of that which is that the media isn't talking about this, you're not gonna find that footage on the national news or even the local news."

Hey ding-dong, I guess you don't have Google because a quick Google search for "Brooklyn high school migrants" brought this up.

How do you think I learnt about this story? My vivid imagination? No, I read about it in the New York Times. As for the video of the one woman yelling which was posted by known extremely credible journalistic source "Libs of TikTok" (which is more proof that Chaya Raichik's fans REALLY like sending bomb threats to places by the way) it doesn't add anything to the story. It's just one woman screaming at people and the news has already covered the protest in detail. It adds absolutely nothing to the conversation.

08:35, Matt Walsh: "No media organizations, even the ones that claim to focus entirely on big events in the city of New York, are tracking down the parents to hear exactly what's happening here."

Matt Walsh is a moron: a story in screenshots.

Those guys with cameras are from the nonexistent media, totally no coverage at all (Source: New York Post)

Hey look, the New York Post did speak to some parents who were pissed off at the decision. Quote:

“The writing was on the wall the minute the city started being inundated with migrants,” said one mother who only gave her name as Maria. “It’s disgusting. It should not be put on us taxpayers.” (New York Post)

Ignore the microphones with LITERAL NEWS AGENCIES LOGOS ON THEM, there was zero media coverage (Source: New York Post)

Just so you know, this Post article was posted on the 10th and Walshes episode came out on the 11th so it was completely available to him then. I hate to use the shitrag known as the New York Post as a source but the fact is that it's a major publication that interviewed the parents and has pictures proving that the news agencies were there. No media coverage my ass.

11:11, Matt Walsh: "But if you are wondering why the left was so intent on implementing those lockdowns, well there's your answer, they wanted a precedent they could use in the future and already they're using it in order to house illegal migrants in public school."

Surely it couldn't have been because there was a massive public health emergency that was killing thousands of people, no it was so that they could house asylum seekers in a high school for one day during a snow storm.

This makes absolutely zero sense when you think about it for more than five seconds.

11:44, Matt Walsh: "This is destruction that doesn't benefit any particular political party over another, it's destruction that's calibrated to destroy the entire foundation of this entire country."

Matt Walsh has a formula for these episodes. Introduce the topic, instead of arguing against what he is covering argue against some bizarre strawman version of it that is way broader than the actual topic, declare that this will lead to the literal end of society, and move on.

Notice how Matt leaves out key details of the story like the fact that this was during a snow storm and how most of the asylum seekers being moved in were family units with children in order to strengthen his argument. He also overinflates the entire thing from some teenagers being made to do one day of E-learning to some kind of grandiose permanent thing that the Democrats planned in advance during COVID and by the way they'll be making YOU house asylum seekers in your home next. Watching the Matt Walsh Show is like consuming news through some bizarre funhouse mirror version of reality.

Think about it, Matt never really argues the points he's trying to make, mostly because he probably realizes that most of what he actually believes would get his ass thrown off pretty much every social media platform in existence and that stops the money from flowing. What he does instead is rant about how the left is causing the literal end of society. How is the left causing the literal end of society? Who knows?! They just are!

11:55, Matt Walsh: "And if you don't believe that, consider the fact that just a few months ago, illegal migrants in New York City started encroaching on the turf of the single most reliable voting block for the Democratic Party, which is Black people on welfare and these migrants started showing up early to snag their handouts."

Nothing to see here, just another classic Matt Walsh being a racist moment. This is really just Matt's excuse to get in a dig at black people for daring to take government assistance money and it's so blatantly obvious. Otherwise why else would he bring this up? It's still not addressing the main issue at hand which is the school in Brooklyn, it's a completely different topic entirely.

But like I said before, Matt's show is very free of actual points outside of just saying something bigoted and then declaring that society is over because of said bigoted thing.

12:13, Matt Walsh: "This is like something out of a sketch comedy show, it would be funny if it weren't so tragic."

It's so nice of Matt to concisely describe my feelings regarding his show and the conservative media ecosystem as a whole.

14:12, Matt Walsh: "Here's what Chicago's O'Hare Airport looks like right now. The airport, one of the biggest in the country, is now walling off entire sections so that they can be used as migrant encampments."

This is even less of a story than the high school in Brooklyn. Small parts of this massive airport are being used to temporarily provide shelter for arriving asylum seekers in order to provide them shelter from the cold. Just so you guys know, parts of O'Hare have been used as a crisis shelter for months and society still hasn't ended. Why Matt Walsh has only decided to pick up on this story now is a mystery to us all. They are also using Terminal 4 to shelter the asylum seekers which isn't even a terminal used for flights. It's a shuttle bus terminal.

Just an aside, has Matt Walsh never been to an airport? People sleep on the floors at airports all the freaking time, hell I've done it!

14:52, Matt Walsh: "Granted people in airports already tend to splay out on the ground and treat terminals like campgrounds but this is taking that to another level."

How Matt? Because the people who are doing it are a different race than you? Airports are already filled to the brim with people who are sleeping on the floor due to missed flights and the like, that's just how it's been since the beginning of commercial air travel.

Matt still hasn't mentioned that this isn't a part of the airport that people are flying out of.

15:17, Matt Walsh: "The government is now ceding critical infrastructure to foreigners who have no right to be in the country."

That's a funny way of saying "They've allowed asylum seekers to sleep inside a bus terminal at an airport so they don't freeze to death."

This decision hasn't impacted air traffic out of O'Hare at all, if it did you could bet that more people that aren't Matt Walsh would be talking about this.

Notice how Matt doesn't really have a point here. His argument is as follows;

"People are sleeping on the floor at an airport, granted people already do that but this is different for some reason, also civilization is going to collapse because people are sleeping on the floor at an airport."

Notice how it makes zero sense, so little sense in fact that Matt refuted his own argument right after making it.

15:22, Matt Walsh: "Pretty soon we're not gonna be simply ceding public buildings, they'll take private property too."

"FEAR, FEAR, FEAR. Btw, no I don't have any proof for this"

15:28, Matt Walsh: "Already the government is laying the groundwork for that and once again COVID set the precedent. Remember when the Biden Administration banned evictions?"

The eviction moratorium was a humane decision given the circumstances. Numerous people were being put out of work by the pandemic and as a result were made more vulnerable financially, thus putting them at greater risk of eviction. That decision protected the American citizens that Matt's spent the entire episode saying he cares about, it's almost as if he doesn't care about the American public at all.

How on Earth does a temporary eviction moratorium lead to you being forced to house asylum seekers by the way? There is absolutely no direct line from one to the other. It makes zero sense like pretty much everything Matt's saying in this episode.

I'm starting to respect Michael Knowles a bit more because of this episode. Michael Knowles has a complete and total lack of talent that bleeds into all of the content he produces and so does Matt Walsh. The difference is that Michael will spend his episodes either watching CNN or reading an article from some publication and then go "this thing bad because libs" and then move on to the next article/CNN video. When Michael is made to talk about one thing for extended periods without reading someone elses work, he'll inevitably end up saying something stupid like how Mickey Mouse should be turned into a Nazi to own the libs but he mainly avoids that by reading others work and throwing up a two minute soundbite about it afterwards. The difference between Matt Walsh and Michael Knowles is that Michael seems to have a level of begrudging understanding of his lack of talent that Matt lacks. The issue is that Matt will try to talk about issues for extended periods of time and he usually makes a complete fool out of himself at best and reveals how much of a bigot he is at worst. Today it's a bit of column A and a bit of column B and we still haven't even gotten to his dumbass take on Valentines Day that went viral.

15:46, Matt Walsh: "Now public officials are once again suggesting that private property must be surrendered, and this time for the benefit of illegal migrants. Just a few months ago politicians in Massachusetts and New York demanded that residents offer up their homes to foreign nationals, watch."

Matt plays some clips of politicians asking their constituents to volunteer to host a migrant family. There's one word I'd like to emphasize and that's volunteer. Nobody is forcing American's to take on a family of aslylum seekers unlike what Matt's bestie Chaya Raichik would have you believe. It's on a 100% volunteer basis and the clip from Massachusetts makes that abundantly clear. And in case you are still concerned about asylum seekers being forced into your home, that clip of the governor of Massachusetts was taken in August of last year and no asylum seekers have been forced into peoples homes since then. Real weak, real stupid.

17:35, Matt Walsh: "If you're a landlord or property owner we can use you too. Very appropriately phrased isn't it? We can -- not even like 'we can use your property', we can use you."

What the governor was saying was that the state could use the help of landlords to deal with the massive influx of asylum seekers that they are seeing. I do believe that the Biden Administration itself isn't doing enough to help these cities with the influx in asylum seekers but that's a conversation that Matt isn't having here. Instead what we get is fearmongering about a clip taken in August of the governor of Massachusetts asking for people to volunteer space in their homes if they can to help deal with the influx of asylum seekers and maybe provide space to a family in need, not forcing people to take in asylum seekers like Matt is claiming here.

17:57, Matt Walsh: "This is one of the things Americans fought the Revolutionary War to prevent, that's why the Constitution prevents quartering troops in peoples homes."

Without the homeowners consent, so quartering troops is on a volunteer basis....like quartering asylum seekers is. I can't help but feel like leaving that part of the third amendment out was a conscious decision on Matt's part.

Also this is such a ridiculous comparison to make. It's not like America has seen a massive influx in troops that don't have previously established homes in the country and are in urgent need of housing.

18:16, Matt Walsh: "What we're seeing are illegal migrants, criminals, taking over your airports and your childs schools. At this rate it won't be too long until these criminals start walking into television stations with grenades."

Undocumented immigrant crime is insanely low when you look at the numbers. In Texas a study from The National Academy of Sciences USA discovered that the undocumented migrant conviction rate was 45% below that of native born Texans. Seems like a segment of the population that is very unlikely to walk into television stations with grenades.

Just to recap, Matt's bombshell proof of this migrant takeover is a school being used to shelter migrant families during a storm for a day and a bus terminal at an airport being used as a shelter for migrants for months with nothing bad happening there during said months. I can't stress enough how weak this is.

Matt finishes this story, does an ad pivot, and starts his five headlines thing. He mumbles incoherently about the debates and Chris Christie. It's very stupid. He's not saying anything of value, mostly just his thoughts on political candidates interspersed with smug comments about people he doesn't like. Here's some of Matt talking shit about Chris Christies "hot mic" moment.

25:29, Matt Walsh: "So he forgot that he had a mic on or forgot that it was hot, didn't know it was hot, and just so happened to say a bunch of stuff that would be embarrassing for his rivals but not for him personally. He comes off well because he's saying 'we told the truth but they didn't want to hear it and we worked hard'. So he said a bunch of things that are flattering for him, he didn't know, the world got a glimpse of what he says behind the scenes and it just so happens that for that 60 second period he was saying things that are flattering to himself and embarrassing to his rivals. What an enormously convenient accident for Chris Christie."

Or he did actually forget and was shit talking about people he doesn't like. Is it that hard to believe that a politician talks shit about his rivals behind the scenes and has a bit of an inflated sense of self?

I mean, there's a chance that it was faked since he did indeed come on a little thick so this isn't anywhere near the main thing that I'm gonna push back on Matt about. I do think there's also a chance that he didn't know.

Matt decides to talk shit about Ohio's anti-trans legislature. There's not much here, just mumbling incoherently about long since debunked myths about "child castration". It's not really much of anything and we aren't talking about it. Let's talk about tackle football for minors

30:04, Matt Walsh: "Ok, I have a -- I wanna play this for you. This is a news report, a local news report, out of the communist nation of California which is on the way to banning tackle football for children."

So, California is moving to ban tackle football for kids under twelve. I found the fact that pre-pubescent children are out there playing tackle football really strange and disturbing considering the concussion rates that tackle football has amongst adults, let alone small children who by definition have more fragile bodies than adults.

As it turns out, the impacts that playing tackle football has on minors are extremely harmful for their future development. A study from the CDC found that children between six and fourteen who play tackle football are 15 times more likely to sustain head impacts and 23 times more likely to sustain hard head impacts (ie; ones that literally shake your brain inside your skull which puts you at risk for brain injuries) than children who play flag football.

For those who don't know, flag football is a much safer alternative to tackle football for minors. In it, the players aren't allowed to make contact with each other and wear flags that the player is supposed to remove. This is designed to remove the need for players to tackle each other which, as we've already established, is quite dangerous.

Now since one of Matt Walsh's favorite arguments against gender affirming care is "think of the children", you would think such a massive defender of children's safety would be all for this. He isn't because it's a bill that was authored by the democrats and one of the requirements for working at the Daily Wire is being a contrarian asshole who automatically assumes that everything the Democrats and people on the left do is bad.

32:10, Matt Walsh: "Ok so, maybe it won't surprise you to learn that I hate this idea, banning tackle football. And it's something that you hear, California obviously is first up to the plate, but there's support for it all across the country and my prediction is that if California does it a bunch of other states will follow. And I think it's terrible."

Notice how Matt's initial arguments are "this is bad because I think it sucks". Matt does elaborate on his points a little later on but really all he has is that he doesn't like it because it goes against his staunchly traditional view of masculinity and outside of that he has nothing.

32:59, Matt Walsh: "Generally this is a reflection of our feminized society, yet again. It is a very feminine womanly thing to look at a sport where boys are tackling each other and say 'Oh that's too dangerous.'"

I love how much of a twelve year old boy Matt is here.

"Yeah, I'm gonna ignore all the data that say that concussions among young children are more common in tackle football because expressing concern that children might get hurt is so girly."

What a moron.

33:21, Matt Walsh: "Now I understand why women feel that way."

Because they've seen the data? Oh right, misogyny.

33:35, Matt Walsh: "That's also why women are not the foremost authority on what sorts of activities are best for boys."

Still not addressing the actual data regarding concussions. Misogyny isn't a replacement for actual arguments.

34:24, Matt Walsh: "Why can't they just play flag football instead? Well, because flag football is lame, that's why. You know why we don't have boys play flag football? Because girls can play flag football."

Ignoring the whole "not getting concussed as a minor is lame" aspect of this, this argument makes no sense. Women can also play baseball, should we get rid of that?

Also, women can play tackle football so this is a moot point. Matt has zero idea what he is talking about outside of "boys rule, girls drool" and it shows.

10/10 journalist Matt Walsh's next brilliant headline is "Breaking: Men from Mars and Women from Venus."

34:59, Matt Walsh: "So football will go from being a masculine sport for boys who want to go out there and tackle and be rough to a fun activity for girls and boys to do together, which is to say it will lose all of it's value."

Ok, so do boys need to "go out there and tackle" when they have more fragile bodies at 9 years old? No, there are much safer ways to do that. Plus, tackle football isn't being banned outright. It's simply being banned for ages that studies have shown that it's unsafe for.

35:35, Matt Walsh: "First of all, tackle football for kids is not that dangerous. There is this very, again very womanly, panic around tackle football. 'Oh it's too dangerous, they're hitting eachother.' It's not that bad actually, especially for young kids. In fact, for kids in that age range, the exact range that they are banning it for, it is especially safe at that age range."

Note how I have data to back up my argument that tackle football presents a risk to minors whereas Matt just has "It just is safe!"

I urge anyone who is a fan of Matt Walsh to keep an eye out for the fact that he never seems to have anything to support the arguments he is making. All of his arguments boil down to "it just is because I said so!" and he never seems to elaborate beyond that. If Matt has a recent study that says that tackle football is especially safe for minors, I'd love to see it. Otherwise he is just saying things with no evidence.

36:06, Matt Walsh: "Did you know that more kids die from baseball injuries every year than football injuries under the age of twelve?"

That isn't the conversation we are having. The conversation is about the long term impacts of tackle football related head trauma on minors, not fatalities. The issue is that the head injuries sustained while playing tackle football have the potential to cause serious harm later in life.

The bar for whether something is dangerous or not shouldn't be "Well, at least they aren't dying", otherwise you'll end up opening the door for a whole bunch of other dangerous and rightfully banned stuff for minors to come back.

Also you just know that Matt would freak out if we tried banning baseball for minors.

37:08, Matt Walsh: "Because these people are morons they don't understand that the worst thing you could do is ban tackle football for young ages but it's still legal for the--because now you're taking kids and they're not gonna learn, when they're still young and not very fast and strong, they're not gonna learn how to tackle and then you bring them into high school and now they're much bigger and stronger and faster and they've never learned to tackle and you're saying 'alright kids, go crazy'. Now you're gonna end up with a lot more injuries because of that."

Does....does Matt not realize that we can learn things when we grow older? Plenty of professional football players learnt how to tackle in high school and not when they were little kids. You can learn those skills when you are older.

37:45, Matt Walsh: "The second point which I think is the broader point that's important is that, as I've argued many times, society needs to have outlets for male aggression and energy."

Ignoring Matt's portrayal of boys as a net entity that don't have a distinctive personality outside of "aggressive", there are other ways to provide that outlet that don't put children at risk of long term head injuries. I used to occasionally play wrestle with my dad as a kid, I'm not a masculine guy in real life at all but I was certainly an energetic child and that provided a safe and fun outlet for me to get that energy out (although in retrospect it was probably quite tiring for my poor dad).

Now, some boys don't have fathers which is a point that Matt bandies about later but let's say you've got an aggressive and energetic boy that desperately needs an outlet yet doesn't have a father. You think there aren't other safer sports that aren't tackle football?

The point I'm trying to make is that there are dozens of other outlets to get that energy out, hell flag football could be one of them. You're still running around and getting that energy out. Basketball is significantly more popular than football amongst the youth anyway and that provides a fun outlet for that energy.

40:06, Matt Walsh: "And yet one by one, as a society we are taking away all of the healthy organized outlets for male aggression. How is that working out? How's it working out? Like, are we ending up with less violence and less aggression in society? No we're not. We're just ending up with the kind of violence that doesn't happen on the dodgeball field or a football field."

Notice how we went through the Matt Walsh argument cycle I mentioned earlier yet again. He introduced the topic, didn't address the main point which is that studies have shown the tackle football leads to increased head injuries amongst minors and instead ranted about masculinity, and then declared that banning tackle football will lead to increased violence with absolutely zero evidence.

I've watched a lot of the Matt Walsh Show for this blog and I will continue to do so and I feel like the more I watch the more I start to understand the kind of intellectually dishonest arguments Matt likes to make. Notice how Matt hasn't engaged with the point about youth being at greater risk for concussions when they play tackle football beyond "Well, I don't think that's true and nobody is dying". It's even worse when he tries to discuss trans issues because that's almost entirely informed by his own bigotry.

While Matt is less brazenly stupid than Tim Pool and Charlie Kirk, which is easy to do since my cat is probably less brazenly stupid than those two dipshits, he's a kind of subtle dumb that you start to notice when you pay attention to what he's actually saying. Although when he's talking about minority groups it's a way more brazen and sociopathic dumb.

40:36, Matt Walsh: "And that brings us to the point those coaches (he played a local news clip that involved some coaches speaking) were making about the disparate impact and the one time I'll agree with that point because as they said, young black boys especially, need these kinds of outlets and why do they need it? Well because many of them don't have fathers at home and -- you have a father at home who's active and involved and one of the things a father does is to help a boy understand how to take all that energy and channel it in healthy ways."

And again, there are safer ways for them to channel their energy. Flag football and basketball are significantly safer ways to channel energy that don’t open minors up to the risk of long term brain damage. The kids are still running around and interacting with other boys and I've yet to see an argument from Matt here that isn't "I think flag football is lame".

And what about countries where tackle football for minors is either not a thing or isn't that expansive? I grew up in Canada and tackle football leagues for minors weren't, and still aren't, that much of a thing here (we mostly play ice hockey at a young age which is a sport that Matt thinks is girly for some reason despite most hockey players ending up losing more than a few teeth by the time they retire).

41:03, Matt Walsh: "If you don't have a father you don't have that and that's why in particular, those kinds of boys, tackle football is very good for them. Even with the dangers and the risks it's still very good."

Uh Matt....didn't you just spend ten minutes of my day explaining how tackle football isn't dangerous at all? So I guess there are dangers and risks but apparently risking a concussion is good for boys even though they can get exactly what Matt is talking about from safer sources and sports.

41:14, Matt Walsh: "On top of that there's the male role models, the male influences, they get from their coaches."

I don't understand this point. Does Matt think that tackle football is the only sport with male coaches? You can get those same influences from other less dangerous sports.

If you had a good experience with tackle football as a kid, that's awesome and I am not trying to downplay that, I just think that there are other ways for young boys in the age range that California is banning football for to get into sports that put them at less risk in the future. And again, I'm not saying we ban tackle football for minors as a whole and neither is California, but I do feel like before you are twelve years old safety should be a priority and that includes safety in sports.

Anyway, this might come as a shock to you but the guy who thinks that the Democrats most reliable voting base is "black people on welfare" doesn't give two shits about young black boys without fathers. All this story is for him is an excuse to be a misogynistic asshole and rant about how society is "too feminized". And if you don't believe me, here's the very next thing he says.

42:32, Matt Walsh: "Young men aren't allowed to have anything, they just can't have anything cause we look at everything from this pathetic, weak, feminized mentality and we say 'that's upsetting, this is a little too rough. Calm down kids. Here take some drugs, we'll drug you instead to calm you down'"

Since Matt Walsh is a mental illness denier who thinks ADHD is just "a product of our environment" it's not really surprising that he thinks that the cure for ADHD (I'm assuming that's what he's talking about at least, it's hard to tell because the drugs thing came out of absolutely nowhere) is tackle football. Why is it the cure? Because Matt says so and whatever Matt says is automatically correct at all times.

But notice how he is basically just whining about how society is "too girly" and how young men aren't allowed to have anything. This is the kind of thing that you'd expect to find on an incel board on some godforsaken corner of the internet and yet here we are.

Matt briefly talks about Fruit Stripe Gum being discontinued. I feel like this is a story that literally only Matt Walsh cares about. Like, I'm picturing Ben Shapiro telling him to cover the usual transphobic bullshit and also tackle football being banned and Matt tells him "Yeah, but only if you let me lament a gum brand being discontinued". Matt then starts responding to negative comments that are cherrypicked examples of poor counterarguments.

46:25, Matt Walsh: "I am fine with anyone trying to go to flight school, ok? My problem -- you know, anyone at all. My problem is when efforts are made to increase the proportion of a certain population in the cockpit because in order to do that you are going to have to lower the standards."

Lets think about this critically for one second. So Matt is saying that he has no problem with minorities being pilots but he feels like if we increase the number of minorities being pilots we'd "be lowering the standards". So I guess minorities can't meet these standards on their own merits if what Matt is saying is true, after all back when we had "one standard" most (if not all) pilots were white. So when you analyze the argument that Matt is making, it's clear he does in fact have a problem with minorities being pilots since in his world they naturally don't meet these standards without the help of DEI. So really this argument is just poorly coded racism.

Alaska Airlines aside, which in my opinion was an example of Boeing cutting corners and endangering their customers as opposed to DEI (it makes zero sense to credit what happened to DEI by the way), air fatalities have been decreasing over the years as seen here.

Source: Statista

Now, there was an uptick in 2018 but if, as the linked article points out, you look at a longer time frame the overall trend has been going downwards. This is impressive as the overall amount of people flying has been going upwards. Plus this is a worldwide chart so it doesn't just include American commercial airliners. Private jets and military transport planes are also included.

Anyway, let's hear Matt's arguments out. Surely he has some hard proof that there is a separate standard for minorities that is easier and not just "there's a separate standard because I say there's a separate standard"....right?

46:50, Matt Walsh: "And how do we know that? Well it's because before they started with these efforts there was one standard and they said 'Here's how you become a pilot, here's what you need to do' and it just so happened that with those standards it was mostly white men who became pilots. Stands to reason that if you just continue along like you were before, you're gonna end up with mostly white men."

So the only group that can consistently meet the standards of being a pilot is white men, there's not really an argument you can make for that that doesn't loop back around to minorities and females having less intelligence and natural skill than white men which is probably why Matt doesn't linger on it for too long.

The fact of the matter is that every pilot goes through the same training. It's not like women and minorities go through a separate line of training from white men that's easier, that would be completely ridiculous. Luckily that's not happening.

47:19, Matt Walsh: "So if you decide that -- that there's anything else other than skill and competence that's a priority now and that you wanna increase the proportion of certain demographics, it means you're gonna start messing with the standards."

The thing is that people who are pilots don't immediately start off as pilots, there's a thing called "flight school" that they go to where they learn that skill and competence and if they are no good they don't graduate.

Now, me saying that this argument is that people are being let into flight school without having the skill and competence is a generous way to look at it because Matt probably means that minorities are inherently worse pilots. Why? Because Matt says so. Again, zero evidence to back up his claim.

49:20, Matt Walsh: "Are people really confused by this? Like, all of the many thousands of words that I have said on this topic and that is how you interpret it (he's responding to a comment accusing him of thinking that minorities can't fly planes)? Like are you actually confused? Are you actually this stupid? Or are you pretending?"

Matt Walsh getting pissed off at someone for interpreting his words in the only logical way to interpret them.

By the way, I love how this segment is called "Was Walsh Wrong?" because I don't think the answer has ever been yes. If someone finds a clip of this loudmouth narcissist admitting he is wrong because of a YouTube comment I would love to see it. Until then I'm just gonna assume that all these segments end with Matt saying he's right.

Anyway, here it is. Matt Walsh's extremely stupid Valentines Day take that everyone was talking about on Twitter. This is in response to a commentor saying that the reason a lot of Stanley Cups are pink (I guess he complained about that on another show, Matt throwing a tantrum over the color of a mug being "too feminine" seems in character) is because Valentines Day is coming up and some men might want to buy them as gifts for their partners.

49:59, Matt Walsh: "You think that guys are buying Valentines Day gifts in January? You think that any guy in the world is saying to himself on like January 3rd 'Oh that looks like a lovely gift for my wife for Valentines Day, I think I'll buy that now'? Literally no man has ever said that."

"Yeah, no mans ever put thought into a gift for their wife before."

This is just Matt Walsh admitting he's a terrible husband live on air. Putting thought into a gift for your wife is a lovely thing to do. This is just more proof that Matt's definition of masculinity is being an asshole.

51:10, Matt Walsh: "But of course, 97% of us are buying a Valentines Day gift on the way home from work on February 14th."

Just because you don't put thought into gifts doesn't mean that every man doesn't.

51:18, Matt Walsh: "But buying a Valentines Day gift for your wife a month early is the gayest thing you could do. Don't do that because if it's January 3rd and you tell your wife 'I got you a Valentines Day gift already' she's gonna say 'So you're gay?' Well that kinda ruins Valentines Day doesn't it?"

There it is, the stupid take that blew up Twitter last week Thursday. Straight is gay, up is down, the sky is green and the grass is blue. I love how Matt seems to think that it's gay to love your wife, it's so stupid. But don't worry, if you put off buying a gift for your wife on the way home from work on Valentines Day you can remain straight!

Naturally Matt went on Twitter, presumably realizing how dumb saying that a cis male buying a gift for his wife is gay makes him sound, to say he was joking when this started gaining traction. As someone who has watched the entire episode and knows the whole context for this, he delivered this in the exact same smug voice he delivers his allegedly "serious" points in. He was not joking, he just realized how much of an absolute goon he is and decided to backtrack without admitting that he was wrong.

I guess Walsh doesn't admit when he's wrong after all. I guess the only example I can think of was the time he tweeted that he apparently thought he had a natural immunity to poison ivy and then strolled through a patch and found out the hard way that he isn't...by the way he thinks ignorant people should be banned from voting.

Ad pivot and now we are talking about "Hollywood representation".

52:56, Matt Walsh: "If you've watched anything that Hollywood has produced at any point over the past decade and a half or so, you have no doubt noticed that movies and television shows are extremely diverse these days and I mean that in the way that everybody means it when they use the term, I mean that movies and television shows are a lot less white."

No they aren't, a vast majority of movies and shows that I am seeing still have white leads. Take The Last Of Us for example, a recent extremely popular show, the lead actors are white. Not that the skin color of a starring actor should matter and Matt's fixation on it raises up so many red flags.

What Matt means when he says that TV shows and movies are "a lot less white" is that TV shows and movies have more people of color and females and that angers him because of his racism.

"How dare the fictional world that I consume have people of color in it, this is white erasure." God, Matt is even more of a goon than usual in this episode.

53:32, Matt Walsh: "If a white male historical figure appears in a movie, he's usually changed to black."

Is Matt bothered by the fact that most of these foreign historical figures are speaking English instead of the native language that they would have spoken throughout history? If not, this argument is stupid because movies are venues of entertainment and aren't meant to be 100% historically accurate documentaries.

Also, here's a list of times Hollywood cast a white person in the role of someone who was historically a different race. So really Hollywood has been doing the opposite for years whereas I can't think of an example of what Matt is saying is happening actually occurring.

53:37, Matt Walsh: "But they can't take us out completely. I mean, after all plenty of scripts still have characters that are villainous racists or alcoholic domestic abusers and they at least want to cast us for that."

There are so many new movies with white males in heroic starring roles. Again, Matt's problem with diversity in movies stems from the fact that he's a racist child who can't handle seeing POC's or females in the media that he willingly consumes.

This is also such a complete non-issue. Who gives a crap if movies are casting black people in roles that are historically white or whatever? They're just movies!

Anyway, the story that Matt is trying to cover here (emphasis on trying) is about an open letter to the Film Academy about the exclusion of Jewish people from their new diversity standards. Yes, I think Jewish people should be included in the diversity standards. It doesn't hurt anybody and every group should have representation.

Anyway, Matt isn't happy about this letter because again, he's a child who is pissed that white men aren't getting every single role imaginable in Hollywood.

55:19, Matt Walsh: "Yes, by not specifically including Jewish people on a list of the most special groups of humans humans they are 'erasing Jewish people'. But of course, the same doesn't apply to white people and for their purposes."

I don't' understand what Matt's problem here is (well, I do, see above, but I don't understand it from the standpoint of the argument he's trying to make) because the overall bedrock point that "white people are being erased from movies" is fundamentally flawed.

56:02, Matt Walsh: "It must be stated for the millionth time that representation in and of itself does not matter."

There are a wide variety of reasons why cinematic representation does matter.

For instance, seeing yourself represented in media as a minority can be helpful to show those people, especially youths, that they have a seat at societies table too and that roles in movies aren't just reserved for white males.

Plus from a critical standpoint it leads to better storytelling. Simply representing one group leads to linear and bland films whereas representing stories from multiple groups leads to interesting stories that might not have been told otherwise. Parasite and Get Out are prime examples of this.

Really, this entire argument is Matt Walsh arguing why movies should only star white males. Only he's too much of a coward to admit that what I just stated is his position so he's splitting hairs about the definition of representation despite the fact that all his arguments can only lead back to the conclusion that movies should only star white males.

56:55, Matt Walsh: "So somewhere along the line we got this idea that wherever you go and whatever you happen to be doing, you should always see people who look like you and share all of your demographic details. We got the idea that you somehow have the right to be reflected by the world around you -- you need to have yourself reflected back to you by the world."

Classic strawman argument. Nobody is saying that the entire world should bend over backwards so that every single group on the planet should be represented by every single aspect of life, we are simply asking for more representation of minorities in media, a thing that harms absolutely nobody.

This is also hilariously ironic because Matt himself is basically saying here that he wants to see HIS demographic reflected back to him by the world and not just in any way either, a purely positive way.

"Yeah, I think minorities want to see themselves reflected back to them by the world and that's bad...that's why my demographic of white males should be reflected back to me by the world constantly."

57:23, Matt Walsh: "The only time a lack of representation is really a problem is when that absence has been intentionally engineered by the exclusion of certain groups on the basis of their race, gender, or whatever and in the name of representation that's exactly what they're doing to white males."

I feel like Matt Walsh lives in a parallel universe. Like, how on Earth can you look at the movies being released today and your first thought is "Man, white males are really being excluded"?

I looked at what my local cinema is playing and the list is pretty white. Wonka stars a white male, All of us Strangers stars two white males (although Matt probably wouldn't count that because it depicts a gay romance and he's a raging homophobe), Anyone But You stars a white male, The Iron Claw stars a white male, Napoleon stars a white male. I don't know if America is getting all these films that star racial minorities and we in Canada are getting all the films starring white males but from where I'm standing white males get plenty of representation. And again, who cares if there are a lot of movies starring minorities? I thought Matt didn't care about representation.

Also, exclusionary practices are very well documented in Hollywood. I'd say that going out of your way not to cast actors who are minorities is exactly what Matt is talking about here.

57:44, Matt Walsh: "As far as representation goes, we must note that Jewish people are definitely represented in Hollywood. I don't know exactly how many Jews are involved in film productions but I do know that it's certainly more than 2.4%."

A): They are talking about on-screen representation. When Matt says "involved in film productions" he is lumping in producers, directors, etc. That's not what they were talking about in the letter.

B): "I don't know but it feels correct" isn't a valid way to back up a claim you are making. But like I said before, that's what the reasoning behind most of Matt's arguments come from. For a guy who claims to be such an enlightened conservative who only backs up his claims using FAcTs AnD LoGiC, Matt seems to go off his feelings a lot.

58:20, Matt Walsh: "Now the same is true about black people, blacks are 13% of the population. They're also 13% of working actors."

Working actors is an extremely broad category. That category includes actors who are only seen in the background of one shot for five seconds of the movie and actors who only get minor roles in third-rate direct to DVD B-movies that don't make it to cinemas or streaming.

Here's a chart of the distribution of leading roles among minorities compared to white people. As you can see, white people still have the majority of leading roles in Hollywood. Intentional exclusion? Clearly not. But Matt isn't working off the data like he's pretending to here, he's working off his feelings.

Source: Statista.

As for women, it's certainly a lot closer but the majority of lead actors are still males. By using these metrics it's clear that white males still have the majority of leading roles in Hollywood movies.

Source: Statista.

58:27, Matt Walsh: "LGBT people are, by last count, 7% of the population. Again, it's hard to say exactly how many gays are in Hollywood but it is definitely within a shadow of a doubt more than 7%. A lot more."

This one makes even less sense than the argument about minorities since a lot of LGBTQ+ people in Hollywood could still be in the closet, which Matt hinted at when he said "It's hard to say". For there to be proper representation of LGBTQ+ people in Hollywood, even by Matt's own argument, they would have to be out and their role would have to reflect that.

You just know Matt would throw a shit fit if we got a major Hollywood movie starring someone who is transgender.

59:01, Matt Walsh: "If representation means anything, this is what it means, or should mean. So, even if I agree that every group should be represented everywhere, all that would mean is that the groups distribution in any given industry reflects it's general population density."

No, it means that minority groups should get fair and equal representation to white males. Matt is completely misrepresenting what representation in film means.

Also, if Matt brings up his racist and conspiratorial "white people are trending towards extinction" BS again this year you can be that I'm bringing up the fact that he just admitted that white males still make up most of the US population.

1:01:13, Matt Walsh: "Like, it's funny. You never hear anybody complaining about the fact that a majority of garbagemen are white and also almost all of them are male. Almost none of them are LGBT. You never hear anyone calling for greater black or female or gay representation among roofers or plumbers or janitors or the guys who come and empty out port-a-potties."

That isn't even what people mean when they call for representation in Hollywood. It's about people who are minorities seeing themselves on screen and shown in a very public industry that has a history of excluding minorities. That's radically different than the skilled trades.

Conclusion:

So, what have we learned today? Well, the last episode where I covered Matt Walsh pissed me off and I wasn't subtle about it in my writing. Today's also bugged me but I feel like I was looking more for how Matt constructs his arguments today than I was last time.

Matt Walsh never addresses the core points of what he is talking about and regularly lies by omission, leaving key details out of the stories he talks about in order to make his opinion seem more reasonable. Most of his arguments aren't backed up by actual facts and when they are the facts are flimsy at best. His entire thing is that he hates stuff and is overly performatively masculine (which if he ever makes one of his incel tier episodes might be something I dedicate an episode to in the future), I don't think he could function without hating stuff.

Most of his arguments are only tangentially related to the story he is talking about. Take the tackle football story for instance; instead of addressing the core issue at hand which is that data shows that tackle football leads to greater risk of head injuries, Matt spent most of the segment griping about how society has became "too feminized" and made absolutely ridiculous arguments like how tackle football is somehow the only sport where minorities can experience male role models in the form of their coaches. I'm starting to think that this Matt Walsh guy isn't as smart as conservatives say he is.

Anyway, that was painful. Cheers and I'll see you in the next one.

#us politics #politics #conservative bullshit #right wing bullshit #journalism #fact checking #bad takes #conservatives #disinformation #daily wire #debunking #matt walsh #fuck transphobes #transphobes suck

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seasidepierre · 2 years

Text

fever dream | george russell

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

summary: You’ve worked your ass off for years to become a motorsports journalist, so when you get sent to cover your first ever GP as the prime reporter, you’re ecstatic to finally realise your dream.. But a certain blue-eyed driver totally takes your breath away and you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

warnings: Baby blue eyes that will make you dream for days.

words count: 9k

a/n: As always, I have to thank my ladies and saviors, aka @dansunflowers and @art-outlaw without whom you wouldn’t be reading this piece as I was convinced it was utter crap. Thank God for the memes they sent, mainly ones of drivers with heart eyes and for all the yelling involved. You girls are da bomb dot com, for real. Kind reminder that the platform mentioned in this piece kind of exists and is called girls off track. We’re waiting for you there and we can’t wait to develop into something as dope as what is shown in this piece.

It was barely four in the morning when your phone woke you up. Even though you knew that it must have been an emergency, you groaned in your pillow before reaching a hand into the cold air outside of your warm cover. You fumbled a little, trying to reach the culprit of this loud noise in the calm of the night, shivering when the difference of temperature finally hit your skin. At some point, just before your ringtone would have stopped, you managed to grab the treacherous phone, squinting your eyes at the brightness of the screen and sliding your thumb to accept the call. You mumbled a groggy ‘hello’ and let the obviously insane person who was calling you this early in the morning talk first.

It didn’t take long in the conversation for you to sit bolt upright. Your boss was in a hurry, throwing words you barely managed to understand in your foggy state. You kind of understood that something had happened to one of your colleagues, rendering him unavailable to cover his shift for the day. And as the info finally registered, your mind woke up completely. At some point, you realised you were somewhat shaking and when the question eventually slipped from your boss’ mouth, all you could do was repeat “yes” over and over again, in shock and disbelief.

“I knew you’d be up for the task, kid”, He sighed with relief, an audible smile on his face. “Make us proud, get us good content, and make sure you get some for you as well, okay?”

You jumped out of bed immediately after the call ended. It was now a quarter past four and you had a plane to catch, apparently. As you threw clothes, and a toiletry bag that you had kept ready just in case this opportunity rose up, into a suitcase, you thanked yourself for always believing that day would come. You had waited your time and now it was up to you.

For the past eight years, your life has revolved around Formula One. You’ve got into it thanks to your family, and always watched the Grand Prix with a certain interest. You knew it wasn’t the typical sport that girls were into but that didn’t matter much at this point. You kept it to yourself, a little private thing you didn’t share with your girlfriends in the school playground because none of them would have understood. But as you grew older, you realised that many girls were into the sport, you just didn’t know it yet. Feeling like it wasn’t really fair that girls didn’t get to talk about this passion of theirs, you had opened a blog where you first started by writing reviews of the racing weekends. You talked about the highlights, your disappointments, your favourite drivers, and the tracks. After your first covered season, your blog hadn’t quite met the hopes you had for it. Sure, you gathered a bunch of following from girls, commenting on your posts and chatting about their drivers, but it was still fairly unknown.

So you put the work into it.

For your second season, you decided to cover the races, qualifications and free practices. You talked about the possible transfers. You learned more about the cars. You wrote articles about the engines, breaking them down into simpler components so that girls getting into the sports could understand. At some point, your work got shared by a woman working in a team and that brought more visibility to your little blog.

The first sponsor came during your third year. Nothing fancy, just a store selling merch that they shared with you so you could talk about it. At the end of that year, you decided that this passion of yours was what you wanted to pursue. You had gained your first bucks working on that blog, and you hungered for more.

You entered college with a strong will to study journalism, especially sports journalism. Your studies meant that you had to find a contract. Half your time was in school, half the time at work, learning the ropes of the industry. You naturally tried your best to find a position that would allow you to work more closely with your passion, and that’s how you found yourself signing a contract for a racing magazine. Nothing really fancy, they weren’t the first or biggest media dedicated to racing, but your blog had made quite an impression on them and they were happy to welcome you in. You weren’t the only girl in the office, but you sure had to make your place in a mostly male environment. Fortunately for you, your work spoke for yourself, and if the few colleagues that didn’t really like your arrival at first were sceptic, they quickly changed their minds as your blog kept growing, on the side.

You spent the last three years of your life juggling with college papers you had to hand in, with your work and your blog. And if that wasn’t enough, at some point, you thought branching into a podcast could be nice. You interviewed girls loving F1 and asked them why, whether it was because they were really into speed or because they just loved following the drivers. For you, there was no bad reason to love a sport; it didn’t matter if it meant that they knew everything about engines and rules, or just everything about a guy in particular. If they watched the races, that was all you could ask for. Girls were getting into a sport you had trouble sharing about at first, and that was all you could hope for.

For all it’s added stress to your workload, the podcast really got your name out there. You got to interview journalists who were into the sport, and women who were working in the environment you were dreaming about. You even got to meet Claire Williams when she came to the office for an article.

During your first year, your team gave you a pass for your home race. This was your first Grand Prix; you got to watch a Ferrari win and it filled you with a deep happiness that resonated in your bones and echoed through your whole body and soul. You were there as a fan, not a journalist. And as you walked through the paddock, you even got to meet Daniel Ricciardo, so everything felt like a dream come true.

You got your first accreditation for a GP the year after, still at your home race. They weren’t going to send you travelling all over the world when you were still studying. You shadowed another journalist, and got to see the backstages for a day. It felt glorious, like you were exactly where you were meant to be, but also not really supposed to be there. You were an assistant for an interview with Pierre Gasly and got to shake his hand, so it felt really nice. Pierre had been nothing short of amazing, asking for your name and making sure you had water, like your colleague did.

The highlight of your third year was that you were finally trusted to write yourself. The blog was getting really popular and your boss had decided to back you on it. Everything that you wrote for the blog was now approved before posting, and your magazine’s logo was now proudly shown in the header. It was still your blog - your boss made pretty sure that you knew this was yours and yours only. But now, you had someone to support you and make you legit. He had thrown a couple of bucks in it as well, getting your site a more professional finish by hiring a graphic designer to redo the whole blog’s look. You also occasionally wrote for the magazine, and that was everything you dreamed it to be. You still remember the first time your name appeared at the bottom of an article, printed in the weekly magazine and how emotional it had made you. You had cried, and a copy of that article was framed in your apartment, hung proudly in your living room. The article wasn’t that deep, more of a review of some sorts, but it still meant the world that the team had trusted you to write that one on your own and then publish it.

After seven years working on your little blog, the name had travelled a bit. A girl racing in a lower category had asked if you wanted to sponsor her. You didn’t really have the funds for it, but you had accepted anyway, because the sight of your blog’s logo on a car was a dream come true.

2020 felt like a weird time, but you hosted more interviews on your podcast, invited more interesting people and eventually did a special episode interviewing various men on how it felt that the sport was now more diverse and welcoming more and more girls. Your boss managed to get a recording of Pierre Gasly, who, since you had met before, gladly obliged, and you got to interview the legend that was Alain Prost. The episode had been a success and several drivers had shared it on their social media -mainly the younger ones like Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris or George Russell. Daniel eventually made a story about it with a cheeky “more girls watching F1 and still no girlfriend... Ladies, I’m available!” that had made you laugh.

With your graduate diploma now in hand, and an easier season to cover, you really had hoped that your boss would send you to a couple races. Unfortunately, you weren’t high up in the hierarchy and that meant that for the races you did go to, your passes said ‘assistant’ rather than ‘journalist’.

But that was about to change. Now, after that phone call, you were going to walk in there with a pass that actually meant something, with both your blog’s and the magazine’s logos on it. And it would state ‘journalist’, just like you wanted it to.

Your flight to Italy was fortunately rather short, which meant you didn’t miss much of the first day. It also meant that you had little to no time to shake your jitters out and you walked to the paddock shaking your hands on your sides, wishing the simple action allowed your stress and adrenaline to tamp down, just a little. You took a deep breath before you managed to put your first foot onto the paddock as a journalist, even more on your own, like a big girl now. There wasn’t going to be anyone holding your hand or showing you the way now.

The first free practices had already started, but between the COVID test, your accreditation pass getting printed, laminated and then put on a lanyard, you had run a bit behind. But, you were resourceful, and that meant that instead of watching the last laps, you ran straight to the media pen, ensuring yourself a good spot at the front of the barriers, where you would be able to get some nice content. The first driver you got to interview was Yuki Tsunoda, one of the rookies, and he was pretty nice. You thanked him for his time when he left, and immediately got an opening with Daniel, whom you couldn’t resist teasing about the Instagram story he had posted on your podcast.

“So Daniel, last year you were very vocal about girls now getting into Formula One, you even broadcasted a call to find a girlfriend. Have you found someone yet?” You grinned.

“Unfortunately, no,” He laughed. “I don’t have time for a girlfriend right now, but I can take you out for dinner if you want!”

You laughed with him, thanking him for the offer but stating that you already had a nice hotel room waiting for you tonight. You immediately switched the interview back to a more professional matter, asking him if he found his footing at McLaren, how he lived the transition between his former team and the new one, if he missed his family, and how he managed to spend that long without seeing them. That last question got him a bit emotional and you wished the social-distancing wasn’t that harsh so that you could at least shake his hand after that. But he thanked you for the very human interview, that didn’t focus on the results but on him, and went on to let his booming laugh resonate a bit further in the press area.

You didn’t get to speak with a lot of drivers that session, only getting Mick Schumacher and Fernando Alonso, for whom you pretty much almost stopped breathing when you realised he was coming to you. You were starstruck - you grew up watching him, he was a legend of the sport, and that was enough to send you spiralling a little.

The second session went well, and with the fact that you got to watch and follow the action, you wrote down questions for each driver, in reaction to what happened on track. You winced when one of the Alpha Tauris spun out, but thankfully it didn’t get damaged in the process.You sighed with relief. You didn’t miss the opportunity to ask Pierre what happened, and how he managed to deal with high adrenaline when his car spun like that.

The French driver was pretty happy to hear you wishing him good luck for the following day, and he managed to drop a little “I hope you’re doing well” before he left. He apparently remembered you from the first time he met you and from the podcast, so that made you pretty happy. Daniel blew you a kiss from afar in the press square, and yelled “I’M STILL AVAILABLE FOR TONIGHT” that had you giggling like a teenager. You had a feeling Daniel would keep an eye on you from afar, and that reassured you tremendously. Who knew? If you were to truly redo the whole experience, it’d be nice to have a friendly face in the crowd. Daniel was known to be nice to the journalists, especially the ones he liked. Maybe his banter was just a way to connect with you and it was the start of a truly amazing work relationship.

In the evening, you went online and managed to send a couple of tweets from your blog’s account, as well as upload a bit of footage to your Instagram stories. You announced that you were covering your first GP for the blog and asked your female audience if they had any questions for the drivers. In the meantime, while the questions were rolling through, you worked on a post for the magazine and one for the blog that you then sent both through to your boss for approval. You went to bed pretty late, after noting down the most interesting questions that you could ask the next day.

The second day went by like a blur. You managed to ask Lando how his gaming team helped him as a driver, and he got really into the question, giving you way more content than you thought you’d get. Esteban Ocon took a bit of time to answer you as well, which was unexpected, but you were really happy about it. You even got your first Ferrari interview with Carlos Sainz, who got very candid about what it meant for him to be a Ferrari driver and how his friendship with Charles was really helpful. You thanked him profusely for his time, to which he waved a hand like it was nothing.

At that point, Daniel was back to the press pen and was teasing you once again, fake crying about how he got very lonely the previous night. You knew it wasn’t meant to be pressing, it was harmless teasing and you loved him for it. He definitely had a lot to say about females watching the sport, in response to one of the questions sent in, asking about how he felt about girls being labelled “fake fans” because they tended to get very expressive online. Daniel had no problem being open about it, saying it really didn’t matter to him.

“I know I’m good looking, but I know Charles got a really big fan base because that fucker keeps playing piano on Instagram, so I can’t really compete with that, and I definitely don’t have Russell’s forty-pack to be getting my rig out on Instagram as often as he does, but that’s okay, because as soon as they get into the racing and the speed, I couldn’t care less. Watch the cars, like the thirst pics of the drivers, live F1 how you want to live it. If that isn’t to the tastes of some old fucks who claim they own the sport, well that’s too bad for them,” He shrugged.

You nodded to his answer, thankful that some drivers took a stance for the fangirls you represented.

The last driver you got to interview was George Russell, whose blue eyes turned you speechless for a second, as he walked to you. You knew George was your age - hell, you had watched countless interviews, enough to recognize every driver by the shape of their back or even their freaking foreheads. You thought you knew everything there was to know about each and every one of them. However, nothing could have prepared you for the perfect baby blue of George’s eyes, and you realized immediately that it had instantly become one of your favourite colours. There was something about his eyes that really threw you off, and you silently thanked your mask for hiding your gaping mouth. George was so much taller than you, but you always imagined him as kind of lanky. The truth was that he had shoulders you hadn’t planned for, and a muscular torso that was clearly visible beneath his tight team gear. There was no denying this giant of a man was attractive. You shook your head and quickly managed to get back to your professional mode, but as you announced yourself and who you were working for, George’s eyes got wide at you.

“You’re the one managing the blog? Wow, that is so cool! I really enjoy your podcast, I listen to it in the car when I drive to the tracks!” His voice turned high-pitched, which could have been comical with his somewhat posh accent but it just made a giant mess of your heart and your head, sending it spinning into the gutter.

“Thank you so much, I’m really happy you like it!” You managed to answer, even though your heart had stopped beating knowing he was one of your listeners.

“I really enjoyed the one with the girl from Spain, who got into F1 through her dad and had been bullied for it. I felt so sorry for the poor girl, I wish I could have done something for her. You’ll have to give me a Twitter username or something, I have something to get to her.”

“That is really sweet, thank you George,” You smiled behind your face mask. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it a lot coming from you.”

You chatted a bit about his session, and what he was expecting out of the qualifications. He was pretty happy about what his car had shown during the last practice session, and was hoping to get into Q2, though you had no doubt he would. There was no denying that he overperformed his car every weekend, taking the most of it and trying his best. But focusing on your interview proved to be way harder than you thought, as your attention got sucked into his baby blue eyes rather than the information he was sending your way. There was no denying that his low voice had sent tingles in the back of your skull and the way the words rolled off of his tongue with his super thick accent that didn’t match yours in intensity was enough to leave you in desperate need of holding your shit together. George left after making sure you remembered your promise to get him the name of that girl and how to contact her. You left the media pen feeling like a complete winner, even though you were pretty sure your heart had fully stopped, and you had ascended to paradise. Or maybe a little piece of you had been stolen and put in his pocket, as you kept walking in a somewhat blur still thinking about how he was so much bigger in every way than you previously imagined him to be.

The paddock was crowded, and that meant you had to find a place to work on your posts, before you started live-tweeting during the qualifications for the magazine. Your backpack with your laptop started to weigh heavily on your shoulders, and your feet were a bit sore from walking up and down the length of the paddock, trying to find a calm spot where you could crash. You knew there was the media centre, where the journalists all had a table meant for them, but you had seen those centres before and you knew you wouldn’t be able to work there. Too much noise, too many people, too many distractions.. You needed somewhere quiet so you could focus on the tasks at hand. The weather wasn’t that bad, but the wind was stronger than anticipated and your hair was whipping your face every chance it got.

“Hey, still there?” A voice from behind made you jump.

Pushing a hand to your chest, you got the confirmation that you were very much still alive from your thumping heart. Turning to the culprit who had startled you, you found George, trailing behind you with one of Williams’ PR employees. Even though he was wearing his Williams-branded blue facemask, from his squinting eyes you could see the smile he was throwing your way. You nodded, expecting him to pass you and keep on walking, but you realized he slowed down his pace as he caught up with you. His strides, which surely were much longer than yours, shortened as he fell into step next to you.

“Are you staying for the whole weekend?” He asked.

“I am,” You smiled. “This is my first time covering a race on my own, so I’m taking advantage of it,” You explained.

“Rookie, huh?” He teased. “Congrats,” He eventually praised.

“Thanks, got any advice for me?” You grinned up at him.

“This is a tight family here, whether you’re a journalist, a driver or an engineer. Find a friendly face and network a lot. You’ll always find someone to help you.”

“That’s... really helpful; any tips on who I should start with?”

“Well, you found me,” He shrugged, making you blush. “Where are you headed?”

“I’m trying to find a space to work at. I need to write a couple of posts, and I’ve been asked to livetweet the qualifications, but the media centre is way too crowded for me,” You grimaced. “I wasn’t expecting so many people.”

“You’re welcome to crash in my room, with me,” He offered, a bit of insecurity in his voice.

“Are you sure I won’t be bothering anyone?”

“Nah, we’re good, don’t worry,” He smiled.

You could see that his PR wasn’t really into that idea, if the sudden uncomfortable look he sent George and the somewhat stumble he got into was any indication You understood where the man was coming from: you were a newbie, he didn’t know you, you could be thirsty for drama or write something that wasn’t meant to be put out there. As much as you wanted to reassure him, there was nothing you could really do about it. George had already thrown the idea out and offered his help. At this point, there wasn’t much the poor guy could do anymore without looking like a proper asshole.

“That’s very nice of you, George, but I wouldn’t want to put you guys in a difficult position regarding the other journalists. I’m sure I can find some place to crash,” You attempted, visibly trying to put the PR guy in a better mood.

“That’s bullshit,” George sighed but acquiesced. “Fine. I’ll find a neutral safe space, then.”

You almost giggled when his eyebrows shot up on his forehead, making him look either exasperated or trying to make you laugh. But then you registered his words and the blush burning your neck and cheeks seemed to become your top priority on the things you had to get under control.

“George, I’m sure you have better things to do than helping me out,” You stuttered. “I really appreciate it, I promise, but you have work to do.”

“The qualifications start at 3, and it’s barely half past noon. I’ll be fine, don’t you worry.”

At this point, the PR guy who was following him like his shadow rolled his eyes to the sky and uttered the magic words. “Fine, but she has to sign an NDA.”

You quickly nodded, making sure you thanked him profusely for his help, and made your way to the Williams hospitality suite, happy to finally be able to sit and work. As soon as the doors slid open for you, your senses were overwhelmed. The whole space smelled like a weird combination of coffee and rubber, you could hear chatter coming from every direction, your eyes could barely settle on one thing only, and your fingers were prickling with excitement and apprehension. You knew you weren’t supposed to be here. It made no sense that you were. George wasn’t meant to bring you here.

You almost backed off as your feet glided on the Williams branded carpet. Unfortunately (or not) for you, George was here to mentally push you forward, as he pointed towards a table close to the bar.

“Would that work for you?”

“That is perfect, George, thank you so much,” You whispered.

“Welcome to Williams,” He smiled, a toothy grin that has your heart thumping awkwardly in your chest again. “Can I get you anything? A coffee? Tea?”

“Water’s fine,” You compromised, not wanting to take even more advantage of his invitation. You turned to the PR guy.“I promise not to report on anything that I might hear or see, while you get the NDA.”

Visibly relieved, the man left you with George, rushing to get an NDA to cover their backsides. While you settled at the table, George left to grab you a bottle of water, and a coffee for himself. He reappeared a couple of minutes later, sliding everything on the silvery surface, setting himself down in front of you.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, but I’m fine if you leave me alone,” You smiled shyly. “I’m a big girl, I promise!”

“Oh, I know you are,” He laughed, an adorable pink hue creeping on his neck. “But I genuinely enjoy your work, so any time with you is a bonus to me.”

Your cheeks reddened again at his remark. If his goal was to transform you into a Ferrari mascot, he was doing a phenomenal job at it. As your laptop turned on, he asked you a couple of questions about your blog and the traffic you had on it. You were happy to give him some stats and he seemed really impressed by it, not imagining you had so many visitors on it. You eventually signed the NDA and proposed to let the PR person read your work before you’d send it, which he was pleased about, not expecting it one bit. He agreed and feeling more at ease, left you completely alone with George.

The driver knew you had some work to do, and you were surprised that he dug through his pockets to get his phone instead of dragging the conversation a bit further. At some points, he asked if you needed any help but you declined, appreciating the gesture anyway. It took you about an hour to draft the two posts that you immediately signalled to him were ready. He called the PR guy back, who read the posts and approved of it, before you sent them both to your boss in front of his eyes. You knew that double-crossing him would be a giant mistake anyway. As long as you stayed in the teams’ and drivers’ good graces, everything would go smoothly, but the second you’d do something that displeased them, your life would be a living nightmare - or at least your career was as good as trashed.

The blog was your property but you knew that you couldn’t post from where you were. Your boss could handle the simple edits and posting that your blog usually required.

“So, you listen to my podcast?” Was your way of starting a new conversation with George.

“I do! I really enjoy listening to a completely different set of views. I heard about the fans’ points of views, but they mostly were male focused. Hearing about girls watching the sport is pretty nice.”

“Were you serious about that girl you wanted the name and address of?”

“Absolutely! She did go through some tough times, if I can arrange something for her, that’d be great.”

You nodded. It wasn’t something that you usually did, but you got your phone out of your backpack and logged onto Instagram. As you worked through the app, you exposed your plan to George who immediately agreed. The live started pretty soon after that and George was the one taking the most of the space on the screen. You were a journalist, that didn’t mean you liked being in front of the camera. Behind it was usually where you felt more at ease. The initial shock at seeing a driver on your account took a bit of time to settle. Your followers weren’t used to lives on your profile, but they even less expected you to be in direct contact with a driver. As much as the blog had become more professional, you were still seen as a fangirl at heart, which pleased you more than you could imagine. It meant you were still relatable and approachable, which was exactly what you were aiming for. In the comments, people were mostly yelling about how happy they were for you, that you finally had a foot in the world you loved so much. That warmed your heart more than you could imagine.

As the live went by, you sent an invitation to the girl you had interviewed. You always remembered their usernames pretty easily, because as much as your podcast had extended and you had been able to put dozens of girls under the spotlights, you still could tell which episode was dedicated to who and you still remembered a few things about each girl. The conversations you were able to build with those people from all over the globe had been an amazing starting point for you to keep growing up, whether it was professionally or personally. Each and every of those girls had helped you shape into what you were now and you genuinely considered them as friends, even though some of them never really got back to you after their episode went live.

The face that the girl made when she accepted the invitation and got to talk with George was priceless. You could just see how shocked but ecstatic she was, even though the connection was bad and she was very pixelated. However, George launched himself into an explanation about how he had listened to her episode (and not hers only, which filled your heart with more pride and happiness than you thought it could handle) and how he had connected with her almost instantly. He explained to her that he felt so sorry that she’d had to go through all the shit the others threw her way, that he really wanted to make sure that she’d get something in return for her long-time dedication to the sport. And because she had said that Williams was one of her favourite teams, he wanted to send her some team wear so she could rock the team’s colours to her heart’s content.

“While I’m at it, bullying is never an option. Be freaking nice, people,” George added. “I’m afraid I only have a few minutes left before I need to get ready for the next session, but we can answer a few questions until then?” He asked you.

“We absolutely can,” You smiled, happy that he asked you what you wanted to do on your livestream, and let him drag your chair a bit closer to him, but not to the point that your face was in the frame.

“Okay, here we go. ‘How did you find our fave blogger?’ Oh I like this one,” George grinned. “She was doing interviews in the press pen, she asked some very interesting questions that I’m sure you’ll see soon. You can be proud of her, she did well! And we bumped into each other while I was going back to Williams' headquarters. I invited her to come work in our hospitality suite so she’d be more comfortable.”

“George has been a real saviour,” You laughed. “Okay, here’s another one but this one’s for me. ‘Who have you been interviewing so far and who was your favourite?’ So I’ve talked to Yuki Tsunoda, Pierre Gasly, George obviously, Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Esteban Ocon and Fernando Alonso. They’ve all been lovely, of course, and some of them even remembered me from previous meetings, so I was pretty impressed. Fernando might have been my favourite, because I grew up watching him on the television and I was really starstruck to meet one of my childhood heroes.”

“You just got a message from a certain Ricciardo,” George pointed out with a teasing smile, gesturing to the comment that had just popped up on screen. “He wants to know why the heck he’s not your favourite when he did ask you out, and he says that his feelings are hurt that you’re with me and not in the McLaren garage with him.”

“So, I guess I’m getting through my Daniel Ricciardo hazing,” You blushed. “Daniel is super nice, people, we talked about how he shared an episode of the podcast on his Instagram and I ended up being invited to dinner, which I unfortunately had to decline since I’m here for work - but Daniel, keep the banter going and you’ll be my fave in no time,” You promised.

“Well now I’m offended I’m not your fave,” George faked sulking, his bottom lip jutting out in a childish pout that made you stare at it for half a second too long, which ended up in you clearing your throat and hoping he had noticed it. “I thought we were bonding and sharing something.”

“Aren’t you the one on my live right now?” You rolled your eyes in the sky. “You’re the first person I’ve invited on a live, by the way, so there you go.”

“Okay, here’s the last question before I need to get out. Hmm.. Oh, this one! ‘How do you feel about the growing female fanbase following F1?’ I think it doesn’t matter at all that you’re a girl or a guy, as long as you love the sport, you’re entitled to live your passion as much as you want and in any way that you wish. It’s cool to get another point of view, though, girls usually don’t have the same focus points as guys, so to have their impressions and feedback is always nice. I guess what I’m trying to say is that there will always be annoying people who will try to tell you what to do, what to like, who to be… And I’d like to remind you that you’re in charge and you don’t have to listen to them. You do you. And if being you is being a girl and loving F1, then good for you. And good for all of us, it gets us nice journalists, like your very own blogger here!”

You wished everyone a nice afternoon after George’s lovely words and ended the livestream that you saved for yourself, to keep a reminder of it all. The girl George wanted to spoil had sent her home address in your DMs after having hung up, and you wrote it down for George, so he could deal with it himself.

“Well, that was fun,” George chuckled. “Not really what I was expecting my break to be, but I did like it. Thanks for inviting me on your platform, I really appreciated it.”

“Thank you for making an appearance. It was the first time I got a F1 driver to really star on the Instagram page, it was really, really nice of you,” You timidly smiled. “I’ll let you return to your job, though, I do have to watch the qualis and make sure I’m ready for the media pit afterward.”

“So I guess I’ll see you in about an hour?”

“Try to make it an hour and a half,” You grinned.

“Ah, I’ll do my best,” He shrugged. “See you out there?”

“See you out there,” You confirmed.

The qualifications went pretty nicely and you did pay attention to the drivers that you had already interviewed, just in case they decided to come back to you, and you’d be able to bounce back on your conversations from earlier. You took notes of the actions of the ones you hadn’t been able to meet too, so you wouldn’t look like a dumbass to someone who didn’t know you yet.

The end results had been pretty nice, with George sliding in Q3 with just a couple of tenths more than the one behind him, which would have been Sebastian Vettel. You did appreciate though that Pierre got in the second row with Daniel, and took the time between each session to interview the drivers that you hadn’t been able to see yet. Some of them didn’t come to you, their teams’ PR judging that your small platforms, whether it was the magazine or your blog, weren’t big enough to bother. You didn’t pay much attention to those drivers, focusing on the ones who came with a small smile on their faces, obviously disappointed that they didn’t land higher on the grid.

You took the time to hype every driver who came to see you, spending a few seconds to praise their efforts and their driving, which made them leave with a bigger smile than they sported when they first came to you. You were glad you at least got to make them happy. You didn’t shy away from tougher topics though, asking Yuki, for example, if he had found what he was lacking in terms of car specifics. But you didn’t compare him to Pierre,finding it pointless and cruel, which he’d tell you later that he’d appreciated. You didn’t talk to Esteban about Fernando’s higher placement on the grid, focusing on what he was able to improve for the race.

And then, the Q3 boys came in and ruckus exploded in the press pen, Daniel rushing to be the first to talk to you, grinning so big behind his facemask, and claiming that his best qualifying was obviously thanks to your presence.

“See, now you have to have dinner with me,” He teased.

“You know what? If I see a shoey on the podium, I’ll think about it,” You laughed.

“Well now you gave me a reason to fight, babe.”

“You’re hogging the line, mate,” George intervened. “Let the lady do her job!”

“You’re just jealous because I’m one step closer to a date than you,” Daniel’s booming laugh echoed in the pit.

“Get the hell out,” George pushed him away and stepped closer towards you. “Hi again!”

“Hi again, George,” You smiled. “Q3! You must be pumped!”

“I am!” He laughed. “Ah, can’t wait for tomorrow!”

“What are you most impatient about? Do you already have a goal that you want to achieve?”

“To be in Q3 with Williams, I just hope I’ll stay in the points. I’m not really targeting a podium because the guys in front are all in different leagues than us, but if I can grab just a point or two for the team, I’ll be happy!”

“That’s all we can wish for you, you’d deserve it after all your hard work and your constant driving this year,” You commented.

“Aw, thank you for that, it means a lot,” George blushed a little.

The other drivers were starting to create a little train behind the Englishman, so you quickly parted ways and introduced yourself to the drivers you hadn’t met before. Charles was particularly friendly, which you enjoyed a lot, and Pierre was ecstatic about his second-row place, which was amazing to see. He really did go through a rough patch the previous years, and you were glad to see him bouncing back and proving everyone wrong. You had a soft spot for the drivers who had been mocked and belittled, so it was no surprise to see you praise his work more than he probably honestly deserved. You had to hype the men who once were kicked down to the dirt.

The day passed quickly, and you tried your best to gather your stuff so you could go back to your hotel. The magazine didn’t get a lot of funding, so you were far from staying in a nice four-star hotel, but the room they got you was nice even if it was quite far from the track. You knew you were supposed to find a car on your own, the bills would be paid back later, but whether you called a taxi or rented a car was up to you. For your own comfort, a rental would be better, but you also knew that it wasn’t reasonable, money wise.

But for the time being, you really didn’t want to leave the paddock. This was your first qualification session covered on your own, and the track was buzzing with activity. Between the mechanics hovering over their cars, trying to fix what had been broken, and the teams’ staff members still there, trying to see what could still be done, there was enough to bask in the atmosphere, even though it was way quieter than it had been when the cars had been rolling past you at speeds that you couldn’t even start to imagine yourself driving at. The eeriness of it all felt like going to bed on Christmas Eve after all the family guests had left or gone to bed: you couldn’t wait to open your gifts, but you also knew the night of sleep ahead would be very sweet. You walked the grid and the starting line, lifting your head to take a glance at the podium, still not believing you were there.

“Having trouble realising you’re here?” A voice boomed out behind you.

“Exactly that,” You smiled, turning back to find George, his phone in hand and a pair of sunglasses on his nose.

“It still feels a bit surreal, sometimes.”

“I can imagine. I was writing in my childhood bedroom about this place, about five years ago. It just... It kind of doesn’t make sense,” You sheepishly explained.

“I used to dream about being here, I get what you mean.”

“Didn’t you win here in GP3?” You smiled.

“I did! It was great,” He chuckled. “Still feels like a fever dream, though.”

You nodded, understanding where he came from. When you spend years and years working towards a goal, achieving it always feels like a mirage. But you knew where you came from, you knew the sacrifices you had made, remembered the lonely nights when some of your friends didn’t even bother to ask you to hang out with them, because you almost certainly were working on your blog. You remembered the odd looks of some of your classmates, even at university, when you’d be writing about F1 when they’d be taking notes about the classes. You remembered the red angry lines, stating that your bank account was in the negatives because you had just renewed your blog’s hosting services when you literally had no income. You still felt the cramps in your wrists and fingers, from typing kilometres of words at a time, long into the night when you surely should’ve been asleep.

You knew what you had done to be here. It made your appearance on track even sweeter.

“Hey, do you need a ride to your hotel?” George’s deep voice broke into your train of thoughts, the comfortable silence he left developing until then feeling like he gave you enough time to come to terms with what your life was right at that moment.

“You know what? That’d be super helpful,” You nodded. “But only if that doesn’t bother you.”

“If I’m asking you, then it doesn’t,” George shrugged.

“Thank you, then.”

“Let me get that big backpack of yours, I feel like your back is about to snap.”

George didn’t wait for you to agree or not, he just grabbed the bag, slid the shoulder straps off of your shoulders, and dragged it on his own back. You sighed a little, happy at not having to carry it anymore. This thing sure did weigh a ton, between your laptop, notebooks, pens, papers, hard drives and everything in between. You massaged your shoulders quickly, thanking him for his help and he walked you to his Mercedes car. You whistled as you took it in, enjoying the super car, and he opened it with a quick push on a button on the key. The interior of it was even nicer, with leather seats so comfortable that you’d had to bite your lower lip not to moan when your obvious back ache became very noticeable. George didn’t turn the radio on, prefering to be able to chat with you, and you really enjoyed the gesture. It meant that he was interested in what you had to say to him and you really liked that he was willing to listen to you.

“Where to, Miss?” He joked, turning to you over the gear shift.

“Can I enter the name of the hotel directly on the GPS?”

“Absolutely, but wait.. Have you had dinner yet?” He inquired.

“No but I’m sure the vending machines in the hotel are stocked,” You joked. “I’ll find something.”

“That’s stupid,” He frowned. “We’re like... Five minutes away from a small restaurant that does pizza and pasta to die for. Wanna try it with me?”

“Are you trying to gloat to Daniel that you managed to get me to dinner before him, Mister Russell?” You grinned.

“Absolutely not!” He blushed. “I just like your company.”

“Do they do carbonara pasta?”

“To die for, I told you.”

“Let’s go for it, then.”

George wasn’t wrong. The pasta was to die for. His company, though, was even more precious, and you enjoyed every single minute spent in front of him. You had dreamed about your first Grand Prix as a journalist for years, but this was so much better. Spending the night with George felt like you truly were embraced in the sport, and by the people making it so engrossing. You couldn’t even start comprehending that this was you getting more than a foot in the door. It was you passing through it completely.

Your boss might not renew the experience, but you would always have this night with George, sharing your oldest memories and your chocolate mousse for dessert. The swapping of stories though, as well as the rosé wine he kept pouring into your glass, was just what you needed to celebrate your first covering as a journalist, and you couldn’t even believe that a driver, out of all the people you could have had to celebrate that with you, was the one who took you out.

When you went to bed that night, after George dropped you to your hotel, you fell asleep as soon as your head touched the pillows. This had been the quickest you ever fell asleep. Trust your mind to finally be at ease, when in the right environment for you.

- -

The race had been insane, from start to finish. Between the yellow flags, the crashes that saw two of the main contenders for the championship not finishing the race and the different strategies that changed everything up, you weren’t even surprised to see Pierre Gasly get on the podium, along with Daniel Ricciardo on the top spot. George, though, had scored his first points for Williams, landing in seventh place.

You couldn’t resist standing below the podium and watching Daniel do his famous shoey, though he didn’t miss a beat and spotted you down below, pointing to you before he gulped the content of his shoe down - which really made you cringe a little. It looked a bit disgusting, but as soon as the three top drivers vanished away you raced to the media pen, hoping you'd still have a decent spot to question the drivers.

It did take you a lot of elbows sticking out and negotiating to find a little place where you could settle your tripod and your microphone, so you could record it for your blog, and to remember what was being said so you could write about it. The first one to appear was Nicholas Latifi, who had just scored a point as well and was completely ecstatic about it.

You spoke with him about all the hard work Williams had done to get to where they were and you quickly moved to the unluckier people of the grid, who you made speak about what they had to improve more than what they had lost. Daniel did come up at some point, in his dirty socks and with his shoe in one hand and a bottle of bubbly in the other.

The single look he threw you was enough to know that you wouldn’t be able to escape that one, so you soldiered on and accepted the freshly-filled boot and drank from it, earning a couple of curious glances from the other media, who wondered why the heck you were doing a shoey when almost nobody knew your name. You wouldn’t lie, this wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be - but that was before Daniel leaned in closer to you and admitted that he had grabbed a brand new, clean shoe, just for you, something you really were grateful for.

“So, is this when you finally accept my invitation?”

“I did say I’d think about it if you got on the podium, huh? Set myself up for this one...” You shrugged. “Give me a time and a place, I’ll be there,” You promised.

“Sliding in your DMs tonight, babe!” He chuckled.

Pierre Gasly was as happy as he could have been, which truly was amazing to see and experience yourself. He left your interview skipping over to the next one, which made you laugh more than you thought it would.

But George…

George appearing in front of your little spot was enough to catch your breath in your throat and make your heart race. He had changed and was now sporting his Williams team gear, the blue tones of it making his eyes pop. He was somewhat hiding beneath his cap and you immediately understood why when he raised his face to you and you caught a glance to red-rimmed and glossy eyes.

“Aww George,” You whispered, wishing you could do more than just watch him. “How do you feel, after your result?”

“I just.. I can’t…” George hiccupped. “Fuck. It’s been years in the making. I can’t believe this…” He shook his head, clearly trying to swallow his tears even though his glossy eyes really didn’t hide his emotion.

“Well, I think I can safely say that we’re all very proud of you tonight, George.”

“Thanks, it really means the world,” He sniffed. “My first points…”

“You know what, I’m not even going to ask more questions. You deserve to celebrate it in peace, so I’ll leave you with that. Have fun tonight and enjoy it. I know we talked about it yesterday, but I’m sure you have plenty of plans ready on how you want to make this night special.”

“I’m not really sure anymore,” He admitted, looking straight into your eyes. “I have a couple of ideas that popped in mind when I passed the line. I need to organise for those.”

“Well, go and make it happen, then! Have a fantastic night, George,” You grinned.

“Thank you. And congratulations on your first Grand Prix, you’re a terrific journalist,” He smiled.

You waved at him as he left and completed the rounds of interviews you still had to do. When the day finally got over, two messages were popping on your Instagram direct messages inbox. Two messages that, you knew, would change the course of the evening, and of your life.

The first one had been sent by the most smiley guy of the paddock, stating “Let’s have a rain check on that date, babe, I’m sure we can find something sooner than later. Someone called dibs before me, and I’m sure he’ll contact you shortly. Let’s not be strangers though, it was a pleasure to have you in the paddock. You’ve been a real sunshine all weekend, can’t wait to have you back again!”

The second one had been sent by the most emotional guy in the paddock. It just stated a time and a place. “I’ll pick you up, don’t worry.”

You didn’t worry.

After that entire weekend and experience, you knew worries were out of the picture. With people who had your back in such a short amount of time? There was nothing wrong that could happen to you.

And more importantly, you knew, deep down in your heart and soul, that there was nothing wrong that could happen to you, if George was involved.

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leakyrocktarot · 3 years

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What are epidermis pedestrians? First time I'm coming across that word... And your blog so I'm kinda trying to navigate here

An epidermis pedestrian is a "Ski*n W*lker" We don't say the name because it can bring them to you. In the spirit world names are super important and when an entity has your name it can have power over you, and vice versa. Epidermis walkers are beings that can slip into the skin of literally anything to stalk and hunt its prey. An epidermis walker can even take the form of a "Not Deer" Though they are two different things, they can be of the same entity. They originate from Navajo culture, and are called The Yee Naldlooshii and are often times mistaken for wendigos. In Navajo culture, epidermis walkers are derived from ’ánt’įįhnii, which in our terms would be a witch. It is said that after initiation an ’ánt’įįhnii has the ability to become a Yee Naldlooshii. Not all witches are epidermis pedestrians, but all epidermis pedestrians are witches. It is important to note that not all witches are evil, not all of them practice baneful magic, they are a part of two different worlds. "In some stories, people who have attained the highest rank are called clizyati, which means pure evil. This can be achieved by killing a close blood relative, incest, necr0phili4, or other culturally taboo and evil acts. Upon completing one or more of these acts is said to destroy their humanity and allow them to become fully initiated in the way of witchery."

An epidermis pedestrian can take the form of a coyote, wolf, fox, eagle, owl, or crow, but they have the ability to change into whatever animal they need for whatever purpose they need it for. Again I will say Do Not Say The Name Out Loud, Ever. It calls them to you as if you have a target on your back, like being marked by a hunter. I made the mistake of doing it, and there was this bird that followed me for days and it was unlike any other bird. I shit you not, it flew in circles, upside down, and even backwards. I swear to you sometimes it looked like it was hovering in one place. Take note of how animals walk and act around you. If it is a predatory animal and it clearly doesn't think of you as prey, it is most likely a epidermis pedestrian. They often take the high ground, so if you see an animal following you especially from a high place, it most likely will be an epidermis walker. Pay attention to how the body moves, unless they are at the highest level it will always reveal itself by being clumsy. The most obvious example is the countless stories about the deer who turned around, but their legs stayed behind. Sometimes it may walk in a shamble, or jutt around, or even have distorted and crooked limbs. If you see one and you look it in the eye, their eyes will glow yellow whether it is day or night. They can only be found in the desert as that is the only place where they can strive. In the rare case of names, epidermis walkers are the only being that will fear your name. If you call out your given name, it will have to wait until the resonance dissipates. They don't have names, they all consider themselves to be a part of the "Shift".

Below the cut is a clip of a person talking about the things their grandfather has told them about epidermis walkers, how to spot them, and more about them.

Skinwalkers typically live in caves where man cannot reach, or on the tops of mesas. Skinwalkers, while being able to shift, must assume their human form during rest. They are still vulnerable to human patterns of existence. So they seek out places of rest that are seemingly unattainable to humans. The Utes would use this to their advantage, and climb nearby cliffs to catch or kill skin walkers when they least expected it. NOTE: Skinwalkers when sleeping are at their MOST powerful. In the state of rest, the strength to shift circulates through their body over and over again. If they are disturbed during rest, they are at their strongest and can kill at an instant. My grandfather told a story of a particularly Nasty group of two skin walkers who killed several children in a Ute village. A group of brave warriors tracked them to a set of cliffs, where there was a giant half dome cave about 200 feet up. The bravest warriors of the Ute tribe in the region snuck up the cliff, and when they reached the half dome cave, they opened fire on the two skin walkers. The skin walkers were not to be deterred, and instantly killed 3 warriors with their bare hands. The remaining Ute warriors kept firing, and finally the skin walkers lunged toward the edge of the cliff, telling the warriors that they would come back for them another day. The skin walkers ran to the end of the cliff and jumped...but The Utes were already two steps ahead. For weeks they had been bringing in dry brush to the valley below the cave, and by the time the skinwalkers jumped, nearly 3 acres of deadfall was piled strategically throughout the valley trees to look natural. The minute the skin walkers left the cliff, the Utes below lit the pitch-covered dead fall, and when the skin walkers landed, they were quickly trapped in a giant raging bonfire. The skin walkers howled so loudly, that it was said the wind whistled like wolves in that valley for another 50 years.

Skinwalkers sloppily shed fur and you can use it to summon them. When skin walkers turn back, it's just as ugly as when they turn. Instead of cleanly shifting back into human form, skin walkers often leave behind chunks of fur, sometimes up to 6 inches long and 2 inches wide, called "bent skin". If you find "bent skin", you can lure a skinwalker by blowing on the chunk of fur into a fire. The skinwalker will instantly follow the scent to your fire, without question, instinctively. The Ute's would use this method whenever they could, but it was very rare to find "bent skin" without actively knowing the footsteps of a skinwalker.

"The White Wind". That is the expression the Utes used to describe the effects of speaking into quartz rocks to a skinwalker. Skinwalkers are greatly weakened by the voice vibrations of a quartz rock. Medicine Men would carry with them giant quartz rocks, and set them upon a cliff to send out warnings to all nearby skin walkers never to come near their camp. This could only be done when the evidence of skin walkers in the immediate area of the camp could be found. It could not be used as a blanket method to ward off would be attacker skin walkers. The Utes thought that quartz resonated with souls, and that if spoken to with the proper countenance from a Medicine Man or Warrior, that the quartz rock could speak directly to the soul of a person or animal. There was one story about a particularly aggressive skinwalker who chose to stand outside the camp in Elk Form to intimidate the tribe. An elder Medicine Man walked to a nearby rock face, put a giant quartz stone on top, and sang the name of the most recent victims to skin walkers over and over again. Within a matter of hours, the elk began violently kicking, turning from human, to elk, and back again, until it finally started taking the shape of the victims who it killed. The Medicine Man then commanded the skinwalker to turn back to its evil elk form, and jump off a cliff to its final death. The next morning the tribe woke up and found the skinwalker in human form split in half over a pointed stump.

If you can find a skinwalker trail, usually characterized by animal footprints with unusual spacings and variations (example: Deer hoof prints that all of a sudden emerge into 10 feet gaps), you can weaken a skinwalker greatly by putting fish remains in its prints. Animals from the water are highly poisonous to skin walkers in the spiritual sense because they represent water, the killer of the desert. The scent of the fish or other water animal will approach the heel of the skinwalker, and cause him to weaken the more he walks. Warriors who found skin walker trails would alert the tribe, and they would spend days fishing our a local river and then preparing the remains to be used against the skin walkers. The Utes would then follow the footprints for miles, leaving fish rot in each skinwalker indentation, and pouring a mixture of water and fish oil near any pissing sites. Sometimes if they followed the skinwalker closely enough, they would find it wandering half dead in the desert and then kill it or capture it. It is important to note that the use of fish in weakening a skinwalker can ONLY be used when following it. It has to do with the skin walkers sense of smell. They smell for miles both forward and backward, and the fish stench, in order to exact harm, must come subtly from behind, otherwise it will be detected and avoided ASAP. So in summary, one cannot catch a fish, post it at their campsite, and expect to ward off a skinwalker for good. One has to use the fish scent carefully to eventually send the skinwalker into ruin.

Skinwalker Ritual Sites. Skinwalkers have religious sites all across the southwestern desert where they congregate from time to time, (no one knows how often), but they know it happens. These religious gatherings usually take place on the tops of mesas or in secret caves only accessible by skin walkers. At these gatherings the most diabolical happenings occur, innocent captives are eaten alive for sport, children are sacrificed, humans are forced to fight to the death, and abducted women are forced to bear every depraved sex act ever conceived - all for the skinwalkers' entertainment. The Utes told a story of the operator of a Spanish Mine who stumbled upon a viewing of such a ritual. The Spaniard had come to them to trade for supplies and had told them he knew of a skinwalker religious festival coming up that he wanted to sneak in to view it from afar. The Utes pleaded with him not to go, and to head back to his homeland for his own safety and the safety of his men. The Spaniard was far too stubborn to listen to a mere "Native" and snuck into a viewing of the ritual. Weeks later, they ran into the same Spaniard. He had aged at least 30 years. His hair was lightning white, and his skin had been charred by fire. The Utes gave him some water. He tried to speak, but each time he did his whole body trembled. Upon trying to speak for a third time, sweat poured out all over his body. But it was not the kind of sweat that would soak on a warrior's back after battle. It was blood coming out of his pores, because sweat had given up. The Spaniard died seconds later, unable to communicate what ungodly things he had seen at the skinwalker ritual. He didn't have to communicate -- the Utes knew.

Skinwalker Ritual Sites - The Ute Response. 3 Generations before the Spaniard died from sheer panic and fear over the Skinwalker ritual, the Utes had their own tragic experience with it. Four women, including two of the wives of the chief had disappeared within a month. Through dreams the two wives of the chief had reached out to the medicine man to let them know that they were being held captive in a giant room underneath a mesa. The Medicine man and the chief assembled all the warriors in the tribe approached the mesa, which was over 100 miles away. When they approached the mesa they saw a sea of bones, which became more pronounced with each step. What used to be dried and withered animal ribs soon became human hips, skulls, and spines. The plants were dead for nearly half a mile in every direction. The Medicine man and the warriors came up with a plan. The warriors would distract the skin walkers, while the medicine man and his team would build a giant lightning rod on top of the mesa. The warriors and the medicine men went their separate ways and carried out the plan. When the warriors found the cave beneath the Mesa, they formed a perimeter around it and waited in the bushes until its rightful king returned. When the skin walkers came out of the brush and into the cave, they opened fire, from all sides, everywhere, nearly painting the mesa with arrows. Before their arrow fire could finish, the Medicine man at the top of the mesa, grabbed a quartz stone and directed lightning to hit his 4 story tall quartz tower. The lightning hit the tower with such a force that the Mesa cracked in half, and covered half of the tribe in rubble. It is said that the skinwalkers came out roasting alive, with smoke pouring out of their eyes, ears and mouth, covered in charred black skin. The captured native women came out soon after, unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises on them. The warriors yelled for the Medicine man to come down, that they had been victorious. The Medicine Man then yelled back: "No victory until dust...." The Medicine man proceeded to conduct 50 more strikes of lightning on the Mesa. With each strike it crumbled, until finally it was reduced to a small sand hill. The medicine man was barely able to walk, so succumbed with forcing the lightning strikes when a warrior approached him and said "Look." The Medicine Man looked and saw a beautiful white bird landing on the small sand hill that used to be the Mesa. The Medicine Man, then grabbed the bird and snapped its neck. The bird turned into a muscular human. The Medicine man said: "Let's find his sand hill." This medicine man who was named Fist of Lightning and Death, went on to destroy 4 mesas, and 3 giant caves, but in his words only "chased the wind" of the skin walkers.

#skin walkers #epidermis pedestrians #meat sack runners #skinwalker #The Yee Naldlooshii #’ánt’įįhnii #lore #mythology #crypitid #spiritual entities #entities #spiritual practices #spiritual journey #lower vibrational spirits

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random-yandere-fandom · 3 years

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200 followers special

The next part is thanks so if you wanna skip that you`re welcome to.

Thanks everyone, the last time I looked there were 219 followers and to say I was surprised is a bit of an understatement. I had abandoned this blog a while ago but thanks to the request of @animeyanderelover I started writing again so a special thanks to you (btw. I hope tumblr fixes that bug or whatever it is)! I also wanna thank my dear editor who is patient no matter how much I fuck up the grammar (or names, I once called Misa Mikasa).

If any of you have any questions about this post or simply wish to talk about it you can send them into the askbox even when requests are closed.

From here on starts the scenario (though this is not much different from headcanons):

It was weird, this place. It consisted of numbers and codes and after some time a big screen had appeared, occasionally showing a human staring into it or rather, just below it. Sometimes sounds will be heard and they learn what your voice is and what seems to be sounds coming from the screen itself. There is music, laughter, screaming and the occasional words spoken that seem and feel are their own but are not at the same time, seeing as none of them remember ever saying them. It is weird and strange.

Some had been there for longer, having had time to adjust to this setting, others were new, just barely existing in the endless stream of time and lights. Age did not seem to equal power, only one of the five old ones having gained enough sentience to properly question this place by himself. Though old may have not been the right word, not even two years having passed since they first appeared.

The first to open his eyes in this mysterious world was a demon and he instinctively knew that his name was Meliodas. Besides his name there was this feeling, a longing and possessiveness, but for what? For whom?

He was left wondering before he felt another being and was surprised when he felt a surge of rage rippling through his nonexistent body, a dislike that he couldn`t explain to why there had to be another. They communicated, not through words but through feelings and his name was Karma. Neither liked the other. They didn`t know who they felt possessive for but they knew that it was for the same person. Having nothing else to share, they waited in silence.

The next presence was shyer, barely revealing it`s name to be Yoosung and after that came someone who Meliodas recognised to be more similar to him than the others. There was still a wall between them, separating them but a word that connected them all the same. Demon. Was that what they were? And if so, what were the others? This other demon was friendlier, but they all could feel the sinister possessiveness radiating from it. She called herself Hannah and after she had brought the first other word they could grasp in their minds besides their names, new letters started to appear in their consciousnesses, simple conversations soon flowing despite their limited knowledge.

The next one further established the word “demon”, though it seemed farther away in meaning to the other two. It was the most malicious yet, laughing and introducing himself as Bill Cipher. He seemed mad, madder than them even though they had not yet the ability to grasp such a concept. They strayed from him, leaving him alone for most of the time.

After that there came a long period of nothing but them simply existing. It was peaceful for the most part, though they all still wished to know who they harbored such intense feelings for. At one point another joined and at first she didn`t seem to know her name, only knowing she existed for someone. Karma and Yoosung had been in similar states but for much shorter time. It was as if the ground work for her subsistence had been laid out but still needed finishing. It took a while, but she soon was able to tell the others her name, Misa Amane.

After her, new beings appeared regularly, all with different names and differing intensities, but born for the same being all the same. There was Ciel and additionally yet another one Meliodas felt closer to even though he held an unexplainable disdain for him. The guy switched names, sometimes being Mael, sometimes being Estarossa with no clear knowledge of the time as the other. Bringing such up only brought pain, a new feeling, but disliked nonetheless. Over time they realised that Mael stayed longer and longer and even though his presence was warmer than Estarossa`s, there was a certain atmosphere around him that made the others deem him as unstable, though by your standards they all would qualify for that description.

When the next one came Meliodas wondered why there where so many familiar to him only, but Mael/Estarossa seemed to acknowledge it, too. This time he felt a certain tolerance for the being, a goddess, she revealed, by the name of Elizabeth. Two things happened when she sprung into existence. Firstly, she was strangely bound to him but was still her own existence. Secondly, a new feeling developed, a new sense. There was more to him now and when he communicated sounds came into reality. He could hear the others but they could only feel him, like he himself was only capable of before. The only one seeming to acknowledge the slight change was Elizabeth, certainly because of their tie because she herself did not seem to have this new ability.

Then Bertholdt came, another shy one, and then Ciel gained hearing. Things changed at a rapid pace, the more beings came the more their vocabulary grew, some remaining as a consciousness, some being bound together more or less, and some gaining new senses and with them, new powers. The new beings were many in numbers, Light and L had a rivalry even though they were tied, Sebastian was close to Ciel and they both shunned Alois. Agni, being only a consciousness, befriended the butler and master duo. Bertholdt started relying on Zeke even though new power was manifesting in him and he felt people he had connections with slowly coming into existence. Their names, Reiner, Eren and Levi forming in his mind even though he could never truly grasp their meaning, not yet at least.

By now, some had established themselves to be the more powerful ones and with pride and the others with jealousy felt that they were popular, they had to be, with the being they treasured. On first place was Ciel, he had gained hearing, listening to the others conversing. He had gained smell and all he could describe the sensation as was clean. He could differ between hot and cold and decided that a low warmth was his favourite for this sense. He could feel material, there was something cold beneath him that he was standing on. He could feel the others as pulsing energies. Then he could see, and he saw numbers running down walls in mostly bluish colours which he had discovered with the last power surge, the grey opening up and showing him that his coat, too, had colour. Now he was able to witness everything around him, but he couldn`t move. He wasn`t worried, though. Announcing itself was new power, he just knew it. After Ciel the most powerful was Meliodas, whose power had gone up to feeling the ground beneath them.

Even though the levels of strength were different they all shared the knowledge of having been created for someone, not necessarily for the person who created them though. They wanted to know that person, their rare conversations circling back to that being, fights erupting, they wouldn`t share. But when would they even have the chance to share? When could they feel you, sense you, even? It was a fear, not many admitting to it, that their chance would never come. Their beloved wasn`t among them, so where are they? How could they get to them?

As unanswered questions appeared a knowledge seeped into them, not an answer that they had been asking for, but one they were still happy for. They were being written. They were being shared, there were people requesting, reading them into existence. Were you among them, asking for them? Surely, they thought, after all they long for your presence, each having stories of how you could meet and interact on their own. Few were optimistic, most simply hoped, and some believed that even if you hadn`t taken part in creating them, they could still charm you, no? There was no shock, no fear, instead they were grateful to varying degrees. They were wanted. They were created with intention, they were created for someone who found joy in their existence, in imagining time spent together and words whispered between you two alone. At the same time the jealousy that was already there amplified. You liked them, but you also liked the others. What would they have to do for your attention and affection? Would more rivals come, would the others grow stronger when you wished to learn about them? Would they be left behind? Some were worried, some were angry that they had to share this world, this reality, you.

Shortly after this discovery a screen appeared, those that saw watched, those that heard listened for any sound and those simply existing felt your presence. Their entire attention focused on one thing. You. The reason for their entire being, their most beloved! You were there! Reading about them! Right now, they could feel it! You learnt how they loved you beyond anyone else, how they longed to touch, protect and possess you! With each word you read their hope grows, surely, if they get strong enough they can finally get to you. If you only read for them a little more, let their stories and love interest and comfort you while you have to be apart and know that they are waiting and searching for a way to be by your side, surely, then they aren`t for nothing. And hopefully soon they can enact those scenarios you dream about and wish to have written among those endless streams of numbers with you.

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imagines-hoarder · 4 years

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The Older Man (Pt 2) *smut*- Thomas Shelby

Request// Hey! Will you post a part 2 of “The Older Man”? I would be the happiest person alive =)

*After two years of sitting on the sidelines and focusing on school, I decided to use writing as a way to procrastinate from classes instead of the other way around. Family Divided and My Husband’s Brother fans are gonna kill me cause they have DEFINITELY been waiting longer; maybe more to come? I do also wanna give a little warning; I have not written a full work for this blog in two years and the first part of this story was the peak of my passion. I wanted to give y’all the smut you loved but wasn’t in the mood for angst so let me know if you have any storylines you have in mind for these two and we’ll see how long I’m around for? Please be gentle with my heart! xoxox*

Masterlist

(Part 1)

For those who know him, Tommy is predictable.

When you took a moment to finally watch the man who you had craved for years, you had noticed that he had a routine of his own that ran deeper than his calendar could account for. He was always awake before the sun, and you could only rely on him to find stillness for four hours a night; six if he could find peace. He’d spend the mornings at Charlie’s yard with the horses as day broke and would spend the coming hours in one of his factories across Small Heath. You had spent many years visiting him strictly on Wednesdays for your pay, but he now knew that a sultry touch could convince you just enough to have lunch with him before you left. He’d leave far after the last machine had ground to a halt and his final employee had clocked out. If he was lucky, you would stop by on your way home on the days of your choosing, but time had soon taught him to expect you at random. It had become his welcomed reprieve from drinking alone.

After eight months of finding yourself endlessly tangled into this circumstance with Thomas, you had settled into strange domesticity that was only possible with a man as destructive and dangerous as Tommy.

The smell of his cigarettes reached your nose the moment you unlocked your apartment. He was visible to you only in the dark by the embers glowing between his fingertips.

“While I enjoy your covert visits as much as the next woman, I thought you would know better than sneaking up one armed with iron by now,” you proclaimed as you brought the room into further clarity by turning on the lamps. A cheeky grin was already stuck to your face by the time you could see him sitting in the wingback chair left by the last tenant. “Frankly, I’m surprised you found your way here before midnight.”

Once you had left Tommy’s office following your first fling, it didn’t take much time and even less convincing for you to find your own flat. It was close to your parents but far enough to keep them from ever knowing how the Tommy they doted on for years was defiling their only child in the dead of night. He didn’t live there, but it’s where he could be found most nights for the few hours he did sleep.

“Is it a crime to want to see you? Haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came to the office two days ago.” He looked so settled in a chair that was so beneath him, common man’s furniture that had faced many years of wear on the leather and scars on the legs.

“Well, sorry to keep you waiting, Mr.Shelby. I had a commitment to attend to this evening.” You moved to grab the empty glass resting loosely in his hands. He took a moment to notice you, no doubt arriving home from a local club.

“A business commitment, I presume,” he called to you as you walked to the bar, pouring a glass of whiskey for yourself before refilling his own. “Can’t think of a man special enough to see you in such a state.”

You look down at your dress, an attractive piece of fabric that fashionably displayed your assets between layers of chiffon and beading. Your unruly hair had been pinned to display your mischievous eyes and the rouge in your cheeks. “Other than the present company, only the one I shot in the chest an hour ago. He was working for the Italians.”

He gave you a mere nod before you journey back to him. “At least he got a pretty view at the end of his life, didn’t he?”

His warm fingers brushed yours as you returned his glass, putting out his cigarette in the nearby dish before finding a reason to settle. His free hand pulled you to rest with him in the rundown chair, feeling the warmth of his lap underneath you and enjoying the feeling on his palm splayed on your lower back.

“I’m sure there are other things he would have preferred to see at death’s door,” you spoke gently, only loud enough for him to hear as you washed down the night with a gulp from your own glass. “Though I can’t tell if you're jealous or excited at the prospects.” He grunted before emptying his glass again.

“I have nothing to worry about. Couldn’t give a fuck about other men; just my best girl.”

“I’d say you’ve gone soft on me, Thomas, but I can feel how hard you are.” You assumed the waiting and outfit had quickly got the best of him as you felt him against you, his rigid facade contradicting the yearning you knew he felt. You slowly rotated on his lap to face him, your legs positioned to relax on either side of him. You slowly pulled the pins from your hair as he watched, letting it fall into its natural state before pushing the wayward strands behind your ear. “You’re the only one who calls me a girl anymore. I’ve been a woman for a while now, Tommy,” your hands trailed down to his trousers, slowly unveiling what you so eagerly pined for. Warm. He was warm all over and his gaze felt light fire on your face, the glasses finding themselves near the smoldering cigarette as your hand grazed deeper into his pants. “and for many, I am what death looks like.”

His lips crushed yours in a manner all but patient, his hands tangled between your hair and the back of your dress, aching to release you from all barriers between you. His lips sunk to your jaw and neck as he revealed your bare torso, leaving behind a trail of lustful caresses. You took the earliest opportunity to find balance on the ground and slipped out of the dress that pooled at your waist, tugging away your undergarments with it. By the time you had finished, Tommy’s chest was bare and you had the pleasure of freeing his member before you reclaimed your throne on top of him, calves rubbing against the firm leather of the chair.

Your weight sunk onto your knees and you felt him fill you. It was as if it were your first time again; so raw and natural as if he didn’t already own a part of you that you only now realized existed. The room brimmed with your sharp moans and Tommy’s heavy pants as you bounced on top of him. You tried to feel every bit of this moment without getting lightheaded; you didn’t know if he was pulling you closer or you were pushing yourself towards him as the coil snapped in your stomach. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck before you let out a shaky whine in his shoulder.

“No, not yet, love,” he cooed as your soft body began to relax in his grip. It would be a sweet yet peculiar notion, to think the night was over so quickly over. You felt your legs slide from the chair as Tommy pulled you to the ground and you naturally found your position. Your hips were lifted as he reached for them and your shoulders fell to the ground. With your cheek to the floor, you could see him in your periphery, the man with a calloused touch that had reached the most inner parts of your desires. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He pushed himself inside of you, and the cry that left your throat was lewder than you could have expected. As you held onto the legs on the worn chair, Tommy only thrusted deeper between your legs. By the time he was pressed fully against you, he was bucking at a pace of his own. “For fuck’s sake, Tommy!”

He bent against you, and his chest was against your curved back, now roping his arm around your waist so every inch of you was connected to him. “They may see you as a woman out there. But in my office, in your bed...on this bloody fucking chair, you’ll always be my girl,” he gritted out. His breath was hot against your ear as he came deep inside of you, bathing in the thrill of filling you up.

All the noise faded while sweat and slick dried between your bodies. His head rested between your shoulder blades as you laid between his arms on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, moments or millennia, before you unwound your limbs from his, grabbing your pile of clothes in the process.

“I nearly died in your arms tonight,” he said with a trace of humor on his lips. You tossed him his clothes before you pulled on your bloomers.

“It’s not your time yet, old man.” The glare you received had become a familiar friend in the past year. You knew that behind his scold, he was watching you as if you were art in the making; beauty in the moonlight that he didn’t deserve.

Tommy is predictable. He always had a card up his sleeve, something holding unexpected pleasures or unforeseen schematics. The longer you knew him, the more you were sure that he would always be one step ahead of those who thought they had him pinned. Maybe that's why you kept coming back to him. He was reckless and sometimes detached in order to stay ahead, but he was always calculated and cared for you in a way only a man like him could. He fulfilled a hunger no drug, no fortune, and no other man could ever satiate in you.

He took your hand in his, his rough palms soothing to your senses. “Then we must make all the little moments count until then.” He left hot kisses up your wrist and forearm. “Marry me, Y/N.” You scoffed with a laugh bubbling in your throat, pulling away from him as you walked to your room. You needed a bath more than a joke at the moment. “I’m serious, love. Marry me and I’ll give you a house with endless corridors and new furniture.”

“Maybe I don’t want to marry you, Thomas,” you teased from the other room.

“And maybe I only want to fuck a young woman I’m married to.”

“Then you’ve become quite the prude in the last five minutes!”

You could retort day and night, but you knew a ring would be on your finger by next week, whether you had blatantly said yes or not. You would never admit it, but you knew that Tommy saw you as predictable too.

Cuties who have asked me to tag them at some point: @buckybarnesisalittleshit @moonlxghtbay @roliepoliegirl @iamafancygirl @eggingamazinglove @characterobsessed (if you want to be untagged, please message me!)

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby oneshot #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders oneshot

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princecharmingmendes · 3 years

Text

Heart by Heart | Chapter II | Raul Mendes

*secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this is the second chapter of this series, you can find the first one here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 5.2K+

*Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence/crimes, migraine due to work stress, Raul teasing the reader endlessly (for me, that’s the most important warning). Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: July 8th, 2021.

-*-

A week later things were back to normal.

Sure, the night they came back, after they were checked for any injuries on the med department and were cleared, Raul dragged her back to his apartment claiming he was craving sushi and he was only ordering if she was with him. In reality, that was a way to keeping his head busy with something else so the events of that day would be coped nicely without so much suffering. And one way of doing it was keeping his girl, best friend and partner, at a close distance so he knew she’d be safe and well.

He was extra sweet that night, making sure she had everything she needed, even agreed to put on face masks with her while watching a random movie. And she was really glad to have him near. The thought of him getting her, or worst... it just killed her a bit. But he was safe and he had his arms securely around her, and that was enough to put her on dreamland and having a great night of sleep.

Unfortunately that was not the case for Y/N today.

Ever since Seth was back, he spent most of his time on the med bay to recover, he had to go through surgery and was finally recovering, but ever since he was back, every piece of information he had was being collected, and she was the one responsible to write it down. Most of the info he had was encoded and she was supposed to break it. Y/N’s been working nonstop for the past week, and when she had the opportunity to relax all by herself in her house, she felt restless. The main reason is that the person who had Seth was one of the most wanted man on the planet. Geonoff Reyes was capable of the vilest things without giving a second thought, and he’s been wanted for years now, and apparently Seth had the newest information of his whereabouts and new plans.

And knowing that was enough to put Y/N in restless nights of sleep, when she was even able to drift off. Most of her hours were invested on figuring out whatever she could, and several nights were only the continuation of her job during the day. And yeah, it was reckless and a bit stupid of her to sacrifice so much in a research, but Y/N knew this was a great opportunity and the biggest amount of clues they’ve ever received, she couldn’t let this all go. And she had to work fast, so Geonoff didn’t have enough time to notice some information missing or that someone outside of his limited inner circle so he wouldn’t chance anything. Or even move outside the country again, putting a massive political obstacle on their way.

Y/N should’ve known better than to barely get any sleep in over seven days. She knew better than to barely eat or drink anything other than coffee. She knew and did it anyone. And that’s why she ended up where she was. Seven A.M. sharp on her little office on her company’s Head Quarters with a killing migraine that only got worse under the fluorescent lights. Y/N groaned softly as she basically collided on her office chair, cursing under her breath whoever thought bright white lights was a great idea. She was softly rubbing her temples when she heard a knock on her door, before someone came in without being invited, a delicious smell of coffee coming alongside the intruder. She didn’t need to look up to know Raul would be standing right in front of her desk.

“What?” she grumbled, spinning in her chair to turn on her computer without even sparing a glance at him.

Raul chuckled “good morning to you too, sunshine, I’m not even daring to ask how you are”

Y/N rolled her eyes and wincing at the pain the movement brought her “look, go pester someone else, I’m not in a good day”

“Yeah, that’s easy to see, gremlin, that’s why I brought you this” and a soft thud on her desk made her turn.

Raul was standing in front of her desk as she imagined, wearing his usual black outfit, a long sleeved tight turtleneck, accentuating all the muscles on his arms and back, tucked into a pair of dark grey trousers and Y/N had to hold back all her thoughts that were rather inappropriate to have on your best friend. And she wanted to be mad at how effortlessly beautiful he looked, just standing there, hands supporting his weight on the glass table as he leant forward casually to pick at her computer. He looked like a fucking runaway model at seven in the morning, his citric scent leaving her slightly intoxicated, but she knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just naturally hot.

She than darted her eyes from his body quickly to not seem as if she was ogling him, which she totally was, only to be met with a steaming cup of black coffee. She rolled her eyes on the little attempts of black hearts he drew with a sharpie alongside a poorly written ‘secret admirer’ on the disposable cup. Y/N shook her head huffing a laugh as she took it.

“Aren’t you supposed to thank me?”

Y/N arched her brow at him “what for, exactly?”

“For being the best friend you’ll ever have?!” he stated as if it was obvious “come on, you look like you need it and I swear I didn’t spike it with anything”

“You’re saying you did out of your own free will? A benevolent act?” Y/N questioned playfully inspecting the cup.

Raul scoffed feigning hurt “Of course, I’m a good guy, practically a gentleman, you gremlin, how dare you think any different?” Behind all the teasing in his voice, she could see the worry evident in his golden eyes. Raul didn’t know all the details about what she was digging into since that were her boss’s order, but he knew enough to know she was probably overworking herself and getting a bit anxious. He knew her better than anyone and there were barely any secrets between them.

“Fine” Y/N sighed taking a sip from the coffee, and it was precisely what she liked “thank you for being a decent human being once in your lifetime”

“You are very welcome, so any news?” he asked pointing to the screens of her computer.

“Not really, I guess I was too tired to do much last night” she said opening all the images she had collected over the past week on her five computer screens “you know basically all the important stuff I gathered, I’m also monitoring the surveillance cameras on the places he might be, trying to get a glimpse of him, but till now nothing, only this car that’s been parked here for five days now”

“Weird”

Y/N giggled to herself before closing everything again “yeah, I know”

“So, I didn’t exactly came here just for the coffee” Raul said crossing his arms across his chest, standing on his full height, his biceps popping against the fabric of his shirt.

“Of course not, I was just waiting for you order, cap” she said as she reached into her purse for a painkiller.

His signature smirk appeared as he beamed down at her “Don’t tempt me, doll”

“What is it then?” she asked and before Raul could reply, someone knocked on her door.

“Come in” he managed to say before her and soon enough Raul’s copy stuck his head inside.

“Oh hi guys” Peter said before fully walking in and closing the door behind him “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, what do you need?” Y/N said turning to face him completely.

Seeing Peter right beside Raul just made them look a lot more different. Sure, they were triplets, but they had completely opposite personalities. While Raul looked like a super model bad boy out of every romcom, Peter looked soft and gentle. He was just as handsome, his hair a bit more messy and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, adding to the soft features. He also wore light washed jeans and a very soft looking button up, a permanent blush on his cheeks. And despite the 6’3 and big muscles, he was almost like a walking teddy bear with a golden heart, specially if you got to know him.

“I actually have some stuff for you two to test on my lab downstairs, and I thought since I was already here I could call you two to join me”

“Oh of course” Y/N said jumping to her feet and cursing under her breath, momentarily having forgotten the excruciating migraine she was still having “now right?”

“Yeah, but only if you can”

“Sure, come on, Raul” Y/N said grabbing her cup of coffee before walking to the door.

Raul chuckled lowly before following her and his brother to the elevator “whatever you say, boss”

“Don’t give me any ideas” she mumbled before pressing the button, but as soon as the doors opened, Y/N regretted getting out of her office.

Standing on the elevator was Daphne. Daphne was one breathtakingly gorgeous woman. With bright green eyes and golden soft model like waves, always dressed nicely and with paper white teeth, and to top that, she was a great agent. But she clearly had a crush on Raul and she’s been hitting on him for a while now, but he didn’t seem to care much, which made no sense at all. And for some reason she wasn’t as friendly towards Y/N, Daphne was never directly rude, but she always made sure to look her up and down and was never her friendly self. And Y/N wasn’t one to push anyone to like her, it just made situations like this a bit more awkward.

“Oh hello” Daphne said with a warm smile.

“Morning” Raul responded as he climbed in the elevator.

Y/N mumbled a quick “hi” before moving to the back of it with Peter.

Daphne turned towards Raul and gently placed her hand on his bicep “I heard about the little incident on your latest mission, are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, not even a single scratch”

“That’s great, I mean, how did it happen again? Was it a failure on the planning or watching?” she asked and Y/N almost spat the coffee she was drinking, seeing Peter send a look her way.

“It was my fault actually, the team handed it pretty well” Raul replied unceremoniously.

“Oh, I see” she said pulling her hand from his arm and nervously placing a strand of loose hair behind her ear “hm, actually there was something I wanted to ask you”

God, how long could this elevator take to arrive on the last floor.

Raul only hummed in response, turning his face to the side to watch her so Daphne proceeded “Hm, there’s this new place that opened this weekend down the street and apparently the sandwiches there are amazing, me and a few other agents were planning to have lunch there today, and I was wondering if you’d like to join”

With that he truly seemed taken aback a bit “oh, I unfortunately can’t today, I’m sorry” with that he turned back to face Y/N “that’s what I wanted to tell you earlier, we have that lunch meeting today, Shawn’s in town and he wanted to invite you to lunch with us and his friends”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot” Y/N whined, her head pounding “I don’t think I can make it today, I’m so sorry”

Raul smiled softly at her “yeah, I figured, if you get any better let me know”

“Oh you’re sick?” Daphne asked turning to her as well.

Y/N shook her head, regretting it immediately “just a bit of a migraine”

“I hope you get better soon” Daphne offered a tight lip smile and Y/N just nodded in response.

“We’re here” Peter said for the first time “Bye, Daphne” he said getting out of the elevator pulling Y/N with him.

“Why are you running? Slow down, you’re gonna pull my arm off” Y/N hushed it as Peter kept on with the fast pace.

“What was that?” he asked in a low tone.

Y/N then came in realization “right?! Why won’t he go out with her?”

“I think he might be just not interested at all, but I wasn’t talking about that, you know Raul can be pretty secretive about his feelings, right?” Peter asked with an archer brow, knowing look on his eyes.

Y/N stepped into his lab alongside him “well yeah”

“I don’t know, I think I saw something there”

“Between me and Raul?!”

Peter leaned against his desk with his arms crossed “Well, more of him towards you, it’s actually something I’ve been noticing for a while”

“What are you even talking about? He’s always been like that with me” Y/N tried avoiding Peter’s gaze, afraid somehow that would give away the little spark of hope on her eyes.

“No, I mean, yes, but I feel like that intensified a bit, just pay attention to it” he said and then looked behind her.

Y/N turned around only to be met with Raul standing at the door “sorry, got a little caught up”

“We noticed, cap, it’s okay, no important details were discussed in your absence” she said teasingly and he just rolled his eyes playfully at her.

“Okay, I upgraded your coms a bit, so switching between channels will be easier” Peter started picking up the little earpieces up “And I also took notes about the appearance of my glasses yeah? Now would you mind approving the design of it, miss fashion icon”

Y/N laughed softly and went to check on the 3D design “thank you, I do take fashion very seriously, I only loose it to your brother”

Raul scoffed “Of course I would be involved in it somehow”

Peter laughed “come on, I need to show you this thing I want to put on your suit, Y/N can you please check the new computer I promised you?”

“Oh my, it’s ready?” She said turning to them, suddenly feeling a lot better.

“It’s on the corner right there, just feel free to explore it and adapt it to how you like it best, and then it’s yours” Peter said with a bright smile on his features as he dragged Raul away.

Y/N sat down on the desk he pouted at, opening the super resistant protective case and being faced with a beautiful tiny computer she could use on future missions. She finished her coffee, feeling the medicine kick in as she dumped the empty cup on the trash, before sitting down in front of her new screen and starting to work on it. Y/N lost track of time as she explored the new configurations, installed the programs she used. She only noticed she’s been there for over two hours when she felt someone carefully placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and she looked up to check the time, being met with Raul standing right beside her.

“Oh, hi” she said feeling her face warming up as he smiled softly at her.

“Don’t spend too much time with this, you’ll have more opportunities later, sweetheart, don’t force yourself too much” he squeezed her shoulder a bit and she sighed nodding “how are you feeling?”

She looked up at him, cracking her back on the process “Better, I think the coffee helps a bit and the painkiller did a great job”

“Good, I’m guessing you still won’t be able to make it to Shawn’s crowded and noisy lunch” Raul had a little amused look in his eyes and Y/N giggled at that, shaking her head.

“Definitely not, might as well skip lunch and nap on my lunch break”

Raul nodded “It’s tempting but you need food, now how about I take you to that salad shop you like, we buy ourselves a quick to go one, eat it at your office and nao for like, forty minutes maybe? How does that sound?”

Y/N contained the urge to lunch forward and wrap him in her arms “Pretty fucking great, but what about Shawn?”

“I’ll meet him later for dinner with Peter, so he wouldn’t mind”

“Oh”

“So, are you in, doll?”

Y/N shook her head “you had me in the forty minute nap, say no more”

Raul laughed “Of course I had, know you better than anyone”

“That is unfortunately true” she mumbled grabbing the computer and getting up.

Raul stared at her quizzically “Why is that unfortunate?”

“Cause that will only feed your ever growing ego”

“You wound me, sweetheart” he said with frightened hurt, a hand clutched over his heart.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him as they both said their goodbyes to Peter, who only threw a knowing look in her direction and a little wink when Raul wasn’t looking. She only rolled her eyes, shoving her middle finger in the air behind Raul’s back to Peter, who only laughed in response. But Raul might have felt her arm hovering his back, cause he looked down at her, throwing his charming smile down at her and throwing his arm around her shoulders as the climbed in the elevator again.

Oh great, now Y/N had one more thing to keep her awake all night, wondering if she was crazy and Raul could be somehow interested in her and if she should do something about it. But do what? Tell him she liked him? Kissing him? Confronting someone who already has a hard time talking feelings about how he felt about her?! Only terrible scenarios played in her head with every little thing she thought about. But before she could go on spiraling, Raul gently squeezed her shoulder making Y/N look up at him.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asked smirking at her and she only huffed rolling her eyes, making Raul full on laugh.

-*-

Later that morning, they ended up following Raul’s idea. Around noon he knocked on her office again, with his leather jacket and ready to go, Y/N then just grabbed her coat and purse, ready to follow him to the elevator again. They kept a light banter, talking about conspiracy theories and random gossip, and she felt really better but was too tired to socialize with a lot of people. So they walked down the street a couple of blocks to a little shop where they bought salad bowls and iced tea “to balance things out” according to Raul about how much coffee she’s had the past week.

They ordered to go and walked back to the HQ that looked like a very fancy business building, but instead of going back to her office, they headed to Raul’s instead. There they sat down on his couch since it was bigger as they casually had lunch, and right after, he convinced Y/N to get comfortable on the couch as he relaxed right next to her. Y/N curled into a little ball on the further corner of the couch, but he was quick to tut his tongue at her.

“Here, sweetheart, you can lay your head on my lap and stretch your legs on the couch, yeah? And you can grab that little fluffy blanket if you want” He was quick to offer and Y/N sighed.

“Are you sure?” she asked eyeing him suspiciously “I don’t want to bother you” he chuckled softly and nodded

“Of course, we still have 50 minutes of lunch break, nap a bit, baby, come here” Raul said in such a gentle tone, almost cooing at her and how could she possibly say no to that?

She removed her boots before laying her head on his lap and pulling her legs to stretch across the rest of the couch, while she got comfy, she felt the gentle weight of the thick fluffy blanket being laid on top of her. Y/N sighed in relief as she slowly closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax, and feeling the soft caress of Raul’s fingers gently combing through her hair was only making it easier to fall asleep. And so she did.

She dreamed of something random, she was stuck in a boat and it didn’t really make much sense, but it was better than the sleepless nights or the scary things her mind came up with. So waking up was not the best sensation, but Raul managed to make the experience less unpleasant. He was very softly coaxing her to wake up, by gently shaking her shoulder and caressing her cheek, slowly calling her name. Y/N could get used to it.

Raul truly didn’t want to do it, he, himself, didn’t want to get up. He ended up falling asleep a few minutes in, but the timer on his phone vibrating on his hand woke him when he promised he’d wake her up. He almost didn’t have the heart to do it. Y/N looked so peaceful, the frown that’s been on her brows for the whole week was finally gone, but he knew if he didn’t wake her, she’d spend her day blaming herself and wouldn’t be able to sleep properly at night. So he cleared his throat and started calling her gently not to startle her.

Y/N started coming slowly back to her senses, slowly sitting up from Raul’s lap, rubbing at her eyes and checking her phone quickly for important notifications. A low chuckle brought her attention away from her phone and to her best friend beside her, to which she just truly looked at, being able to notice the throw pillow creases on his cheek, the soft curls of his hair a bit messier than usual.

“Hi” he mumbled softly.

Y/N smiled at him before mumbling a “hi” in response.

“Sleep well?” Raul asked as he stretched his arms above his head and she nodded “yeah? I ended up joining you in your nap”

“Don’t blame you, this is a really nice couch”

“Right? Unfortunately this was the first time I took full advantage of it” he chuckled as he got up from the couch, moving to turn on his computer.

Y/N just chuckled before nearly folding his blanket back in its place “well thank you for everything, you truly are a great friend, but I should probably leave and stop bothering you”

“You never bother me, and I know, I’m the best friend anyone could ever wish for” he said sitting on his chair as she leaned down to put her shoes back on.

She just rolled her eyes at him, grabbing her stuff before getting up “there you go, ruining a perfectly sweet moment”

Raul laughed “that’s my biggest ability, doll, thought you knew that already”

“Should’ve guessed it” Y/N said as she opened his door “see you later, thanks again”

Raul just winked at her “anytime” before she closed his door and moved to her office shaking her head, but unable to hold back the smile from blossoming on her lips.

Maybe Peter was wrong and just messing things up, how could he not notice the way Raul affected her? But saw the way he was different with her? It made no sense. And there was no time to go into the rabbit hole, she had better things to do, like spend countless hours uselessly trying to crack a code.

-*-

In the middle of Y/N’s afternoon shift, she was able to spot Geonoff himself on one of the surveillance cameras she’s been watching incessantly for the past weeks. She basically tripped on her on shoes as she scrambled up to her computer to register the appearance, quickly sending it to her boss. They finally were sure where he was and maybe that was enough to set up a plan or something to get him.

Geonoff Reyes was one of the most wanted man right now by intelligences from multiple countries. The man himself had a long list of crimes, that if there was an opportunity would be enough to sentence him for thousands of years. Most of Geonoff’s crimes were related to the mafia, he was one of the biggest and most dangerous bosses there was. He started fairly young, around 15 years old, but that was the extent of information everyone had on his childhood. Some liked to guess it was what kind of household he was raised to blame the way he had become what he became.

He’s been chased for years now, and that’s why Y/N was quick to let her boss, Mrs. Benson, know she found him, compiling all the information she was able to gather this past week in files. So she did what she could and it took her around an hour to have everything printed and organized in a folder, letting Janet she was coming and basically running to the elevator to get to her office.

The heavy metal doors opened on the waiting room outside of her office, being met with Luca, Janet’s personal assistant, who winked at her and pointed at the door. Y/N smiled at him and knocked on the dark wooden doors, opening it silently as she heard people talking inside. Her office was decorated very minimalistic and was usually a very pristine place, but today, there were papers everywhere as Janet, Helen (Janet’s right hand), Dimitri (head of security department) and Raul Mendes stood there apparently discussing the same case.

“Thank God you’re here, darling, please come out this madness to an end” Janet said with a gentle smile as she pointed towards the mess in her table.

Helen chuckled as Dimitri was quick to push their papers to a corner on the table.

“Thank you” Y/N mumbled as she placed her folder down.

Raul silently move to stand right next to her, a careful hand laying on the small of her back in a comforting touch as she looked up at Janet to check if she could start. With a nod from the boss, she started pulling all the evidence she could. All the pictures, the surveillance images, the documents Seth was able to bring back and information he was able to remember as well.

With everything laid out on the table and presented to all of them, Janet ended up telling what she’d been discussing with Helen for the past two days. They both figured the best thing to do at the moment, since they didn’t have enough evidence to make an arrest for this crime and maybe this was a great opportunity to catch another people involved, not only Geonoff. The plan was basically getting new identities and keep a close eye on all of his activities, track down his moves and if possible get even more evidence.

Raul was called because he was the best for this kind of jobs and would be a great leader to the team, Y/N was offered to join the team as well, being his partner and leading the strategic part of the plan. They were also told to pick other agents that they knew would be great for this specific operation, Janet only asking to keep it at a maximum of 5 people including them, the less people knowing, the better.

Of course both agreed and were also instructed to inform Peter so he could separate the gadgets necessary, and obviously intensify their physical training. Despite this being mostly and observant kind of mission, Geonoff was unpredictable and highly dangerous, so being well prepared and extra careful wouldn’t be a bad idea. They were both dismissed for the day and the early shift next morning, so they could rest and plan it as best as they could.

So Y/N was quick to bid her goodbyes as she placed everything neatly back on the folder and moved out of the room. As soon as she pressed the button to call the elevator, she heard the office door opening and closing again, rushed steps moving closer to her. She didn’t even need to look to know Raul was the one approaching her since his scent clouded every room he ever stepped into, she only shook her head and looked up at her right as he stood right beside her. He smirked at her with a little wink.

“My house or yours, doll?” he asked as they climbed into the elevator.

“Tonight?” she eyed him suspiciously as she pressed the button to her floor to grab her stuff and he leaned in to press the one to Peter’s. Y/N glanced at him and noticed he had all of his personal belongings with him.

“Of course, I’ll even order from that Thai place you like”

Y/N giggled shaking her head “of course you will, am I supposed to spend the night?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I’ll invite Peter too” he said with a smile.

Y/N folded her arms across her chest “I thought we were supposed to rest?”

“Oh but we will, I’ll make sure you’ll fall sleep at reasonable hours, eat properly and all that stuff, of course we’re gonna take a look at work, but just a little” he said with a knowing look.

“Fine, daddy” she added with annoyance, rolling her eyes, Raul just laughed and shook his head.

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart”

“What? Does it do something for you?” She asked looking up at him and he just shrugged as the doors opened at her floor.

“There’s only one way to find out, doll” he added with a smirk, a teasing tone evident on his voice as he leaned the weight of his body on the elevator doors to hold it for her, shoulders crossed over his broad chest, biceps flexing against the material of his shirt.

Y/N rolled her eyes stepping out of the elevator, ignoring the heat creeping up her face and the stupid flutter on her lower stomach, turning to face him as she said “see you later, Mendes”

“See you, and oh, don’t forget your gym attire, we’re going running at 5:30 sharp tomorrow, bye bye now” he blew her a kiss as he stepped inside and the doors closed before she could add anything.

He was definitely trying to kill her in all the ways possible, she just didn’t know which way would be the fatal blow.

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

@mariamuses

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brattyfics · 3 years

Text

drunk dialing | writer wednesday

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!OFC

Summary: Angel's ex-girlfriend gives him a call one night when she has too much to drink.

Tags: Angst, Toxic!Angel, Unresolved Feelings, Alcohol Consumption.

Word Count: 1.5k

1:16.

“She doesn’t need anymore.”

The words barely register over the hustle and bustle of the packed sports bar. Basketball reruns play on the television, old school r&b blaring over the loudspeakers. The bartender takes one look at Summer and the way her frame is slumped over just slightly, the way her dark brown eyes have glazed over, and nods his agreement. From their places on barstools, her friends thank him, not-so-subtly sneaking glances at Summer from the corners of their eyes. She can’t bring herself to care. They don’t understand. She’s drowning in the liquor but also an ocean of misery. The waves steadily pull her down further at each turn.

No one understands, so she takes special care to savor the dark amber liquid as it burns her from the inside out.

2:29.

Last call in the state of California is 1:30 am for any establishment that sells alcohol. Businesses like the bar that so graciously hosts Summer and her friends can stay open later, and they usually do. Most patrons abide by state law, using the time to sober up by stuffing themselves with greasy foods-- pizza, fries, chicken wings. Instead of drinking, they make plans to come back and meet up with the strangers they have become fast friends with or say goodbye to their college buddies in town for the weekend.

If You Think You’re Lonely Now plays as patrons began to shuffle out. Summer hums along.

If you think you’re lonely now, huh

Wait until tonight, girl (If you think you’re lonely now)

I’ll be long gone (You just wait until tonight girl)

And you’ll never find another man that’ll treat ya’ right

And then there are the lonely.

The ones at the bar every evening without fail, using it as home in place of the one they lack. They slide the servers bribes, crisp and crumpled twenty dollar bills across the bar top. She watches with tired eyes as they slide shot glasses back in exchange. Summer thinks she would try her luck if it weren’t for the mother hens watching over her with careful eyes. Her friends-- Aliyah, Jasmine, and Nia already think she’s a ticking time bomb. The last thing she needs to do is give them the ammunition they need to call her an alcoholic.

3:34.

It takes a while for the bar to clear out. Nia has to use the bathroom at the last minute, complaining about it being filthy when she returns. Jasmine mutters an obviously while Summer pitifully sips the last remnants of her drink. The melted ice cubes ruin it, she can’t taste the bourbon at all, but every little drop counts, right?

Summer refuses the hand offered to her by Aliyah as they stumble out into the parking lot. Aliyah hovers with her arms poised to catch her just in case. Nia absentmindedly plays a card game on her phone behind them, and Jasmine heads up the group, her keys noisily jingling as she swings them back and forth. She’s the designated driver and the only one sober enough to drive.

It’s a typical summer night in California, dry but cold and windy, so they quicken their pace. With every step, Bobby Womack’s crooning is stuck on replay in Summer’s mind. The lyrics resonate with her…

When it’s cold outside who are you holding?

...and she’s about to voice her thoughts when she sees it.

“Is that a phone booth?!” The words come out more hysterical than probably they should. Sure, it’s been like ten years since she’s seen one in person, and she didn’t know they still existed, so she’s a little excited and a lot drunk, but it’s just a phone booth. One that’s narrow and brightly lit in the midnight blue of the night. Aliyah, who forgot her glasses at home, squints at the white blob until she can make out its shape.

“I think it is.” She sounds a little mystified herself, and that’s all the encouragement Summer needs in her state. One minute she’s cheesing wide, and the next, she’s sprinting across the street towards the phone booth, giggling and tugging her short dress down the whole way.

The girls yell after her, but she tunes them out, snatching the ice cold phone off the hook. She’s even more enamored when she pulls the heavy metal to her ear and hears the dial tone.

It works!

High heels click loudly behind her. Summer turns just in time to see the girls come to a stop behind her, out of breath and unamused. Jasmine leans over and rests her forearms on her knees. “What the hell?” She hisses, glaring daggers at her friend. Summer ignores her, punching the chunky silver buttons like she’s in a trance. Even inebriated, she knows them by heart. One number after the other, she dials the one person she knows she shouldn’t.

Angel Reyes.

She vaguely registers her friends telling her to put the phone down. She knows that she’s making a mistake, but the armor she wears to protect herself from the world is too heavy. She strips it away, her inhibitions lowered. All she wants is him.

Ring...

“She’s been drinking. We should do something.” Sweet Aliyah is always the voice of reason. Nia sounds bored and over the situation. “This is so dumb.” Jasmine tugs on her arm. “Come on. You’re drunk.”

Ring…

“There’s no harm in a phone call, right?” Aliyah says, but her voice is shaky. She’s wrong, and they all know it.

Ri--

“Hello?” The reception is shitty, and the volume in the earpiece low, but with one word, Summer’s hooked all over again. She doesn’t say anything for several moments, the sound of her harsh breathing the only thing that transmits. There’s a long, tense moment where Summer tries to convince herself to hang up, but then Angel says, “Baby, is this you?” She hates the sob she releases into the phone from the simple words. She draws her bottom lip into her mouth to quiet the sound. Her girlfriends freeze, unsure of what to do.

“Y-yeah, it’s me.”

“You been drinking, mami?”

“Maybe.” Summer sways, and Aliyah is there, using her arm to prop her best friend up. It’s a silent act of support, a reminder that Angel isn’t and shouldn’t be the center of her universe. She has supportive friends, a loving family. She doesn’t need him.

“Where you at? I’ll come get you.” She doesn’t need him, but she’s tempted to tell him to meet her back at Jasmine’s place. It’s only a ten-minute ride from his place, five minutes if he speeds the way she knows he does.

Speeds the way he did when she caught him at Vicki’s with Adelita. He had been acting shady for months, whispering on the phone, keeping odd hours. She had felt like a crazy woman when she put the tracker on his bike, but her intuition was validated when she saw his location. She followed him, expecting to find him with one of Vicki’s girls. Instead, she found him there with Adelita and her protruding belly, rubbing it with his large, ringed hands like a doting father. Like they were some happy fucking family.

Summer had nearly lost her mind, knocking over furniture, breaking bottles from behind the bar. Luckily for them, EZ caught her wrist and restrained her. The sight of Angel shielding that woman, protecting her when he hadn’t protected her feelings, was ingrained in her mind. Realizing that all the men she regarded highly and looked up to as older brothers and uncles had been lying, and helping Angel hide his cheating, was something she would never forget.

Being betrayed like that should have been enough to make her stop loving him, but... it just wasn’t. Summer often found herself wondering what was wrong with her. Why did she pine after a man that hurt her so badly? Sure, Angel’s handsome, and funny, and sweet, and really, really good in bed, but he’s not good. Not for Summer.

She sniffles into the phone, “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you.” She tries to will the words to be true, but the tears gliding down her face tell a different story.

“Why call me then?”

“Too much liquor.”

He snorts out a laugh but then pauses as if considering something. “Yeah, me too.” Summer swears she can make out the sound of Gilly shouting something in the background, but maybe she’s so drunk that she’s imagining things. Maybe she’s making it all up in her head because she longs for their relationship back. She always finds herself back at square one when it comes to Angel, wishing things could go back to how they were, that she could erase all the bad and keep all the good.

You see the night's the time when the needs come out

When your needs come out to breathe

And the jonesing starts and there ain't no way you can sleep, ooh

“You hurt me.” Summer doesn’t bother to hide her bitterness. She knows Angel won’t acknowledge the words because the only pain he can recognize is his own.

“Summer, why are you calling?” His voice has an edge to it this time. He’s daring her to make a decision, pick a side. Either she wants to be with him, or she doesn’t. His gruff tone, the callousness with which he says the words should make her want to turn away from him.

Instead, it makes her heart lurch.

She feels desperate to hold onto him, so she says, “'Cause I-I...I love you.”

Notes: The prompt is from @autumnleaves1991-blog Weekly Writing Challenge. Summer Walker - Drunk Dialing...LODT & Bobby Womack - If You Think You’re Lonely Now inspired this fic. Let's all pretend you don't have to pay to use a pay phone lol. Do you like to see moodboards/covers for fics? Please let me know. Hope you all enjoy!

General Taglist:

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

Angel Reyes:

@claytoncardenasbabymama @adaydreamaway08

#writer wednesday #mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x black!oc

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neotrances · 3 years

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hi im using this post bc people want to accuse me of things for engaging in black butler despite me making multiple posts discussing how triggering it is for me bc of being a trafficking victim myself and how much i hate the author + entire carrd i made dedicated to talking about black butlers issues

you donot get to pick and choose which csa victims you care about or defend, if i am talking about the effects of abuse and discussing the issues of the show and how it relates back to my trauma i donot need to hear from people who aren’t victims that i’m “faking” my experiences etc for seeing myself in characters or that i’m “promoting” it when i constantly say i dont want people to watch or read it for the very reasons i have listed below

a link to the card with ALL of black butlers issues, tw for mentions of pedophilia, racism, and transmisogny

main points below —

• no, the show is not a porno, if it were i as a csa victim would not be able to bare watching it as the show is already triggering for me for touching on sexual abuse, a majority of the show is regular plot with unsavory parts unfortunately sprinkled in bc the creator is a freak, i view ciel and sebastian as father and son strictly and i’ve made that clear multiple times, and have blocked god knows how many people that think sexualizing kids let alone a parental relationship is ok,

• explaining the plot

• how yana toboso the creator does not understand hypersexuality or trauma responses because she’s too busy being a freak and writing for pleasure rather than caring about victims

i donot ship minors and adults i am not okay with any form of pedophilia, that includes fictional relationships, i donot tolerate pedos anywhere near me i am not ok with any form of sexual content involving minors and the bb post i do make are about the characters being a family that’s it, there are actual pedos on this site who deserve your anger, not me, and i’ve said it countless times that i donot defend or condone people that say that bc they’re victims they can ship minors with adults or make pedophilic content, csa victims such as myself are not excused from participating in pedophilia just bc they’re victims, i know this, and i despise people that use their victim status to ‘get away’ with consuming cp of any form

literally anyone that knows me knows i donot tolerate or excuse pedophilia or transmisogny and i am always completely transparent whenever watching something that needs to be discussed critically, with that being said (hopefully u actually read the links) i donot appreciate people labeling me a predator etc for literally talking about how much i hate the pedophilic undertones to the show and making a whole carrd just to discuss that in one easy to reach place, you need to watch how you speak to victims bc it’s literally disgusting seeing the way some of you talk about and discredit us, i relate to the mcs because of our shared trauma and as always i dont recommend it to people for that very reason, i never tell anyone to engage and make it a point of avoid me or at the very least black list the tag if you choose to stick around, and with that said another reminder that this is my personal blog for me and i’m gonna post what i want i’m not making another blog to post what i want bc this is my personal blog, i don’t exist for anyone but myself and i am not a “funnyman” who makes jokes all day for your entertainment, this blog is my own and belongs to me for myself

also i do not want to hear shit from blogs that post hxh, jjba, bnha etc when all of those pieces of media have the same exact issues with pedophilia, have predator authors or some being worse (like jojo for example with lynchings, pro nazi rhetoric) we are in the same exact boat, if you donot like me or me discussing the issues with black butler you donot have to associate with me, it’s that simple, we are online remember that curating your online space is a normal thing that everyone should do

again i cannot control who follows me and i do not care about notes nor do i want popularity or anything like that i donot force anyone to follow me and encourage whole heartedly to block and unfollow for whatever reason im just sick of having accusations thrown toward me as a trafficking victim when ive stated so deeply that i donot tolerate pedophilia of any kind, and that my post regarding bb are only that of a reimagined version of the characters being family and the mc getting the help he needs to recover

#bb #bb crit #<- this tag has the rest of the post of me discussing this

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rollflasher · 3 years

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Another Sonic ramble

So once again I’m here with one of my rambles about my incredibly subjective view of how the Sonic series should be handled! *Beat*

...anyway.

So, one of the more recurring opinions on the fandom is that Sonic games should be written by Ian Flynn, I have talked before about the gripes I have with his writing and why I disagree with this but this post is not entirely about him, but rather a more general topic that has been bugging me for a long time.

The other day I was watching a video speculating about the upcoming Sonic Rangers, there’s not much to write home since it was pretty well made but there’s a particular part that inspired me to do this post and talk about it with other fans to discuss it.

See, at one point the video critisized the fact that Sonic Forces was written by a Japanese writer because they have to re-write the script in English and that can cause problems with localization, and that it would be better to have western writers from the get-go since Sonic’s main demographic comes from there, while making an off-hand suggestion that Ian Flynn could be a main choice. While I can see where they’re coming from, my response was a simple:

‘‘Absolutely, not’‘

See, I have a lot of issues with this to put it bluntly and I’ll try to break them down and explain them the best I can since they’re pretty subjective in nature, but I’m bringing this up because I want you guys to share your thoughts as well.

So, why does it bug me so much the idea of Sonic being handled by western creators?

In my case, the main reasons are because Sonic loses a core part of it’s appeal because of this, the fact that SEGA of Japan seems to have a better grasp of the franchise’s tone and characters and there’s the very subjective point that, in my eyes, American versions of Japanese franchises were always nothing more than dumbed down products of the source material.

To start with my first point, whenever someone talks about Sonic’s creation, a lot of people are quick to point out that our favorite blue hedgehog and his games were inspired by western pop culture and cartoons, and that is true, however oftenly they forget to mention a core thing that not only inspired, but also formed part of the core identity of this franchise.

Sonic is very inspired on anime, and at heart this franchise is a shonen.

(This image by The Great Lange expresses more clearly what I mean)

Generally, the most acknowledgement anime gets on it’s hand on Sonic is the mentions of Sonic being inspired by Dragon Ball, particularly the Super Saiyan, but there’s so much more than that, as Sonic blatantly takes inspiration from Studio Ghibli films specially in games like Sonic 3, which draws a lot of inspiration from Laputa: Castle in the Sky, this great post shows proof that this is not a coincidence.

And it doesn’t stop there, Shiro Maekawa himself has stated that SA2′s story (and in particular, the characters of Shadow and Maria) draw a lot of inspiration from the manga Please Save My Earth.

Even Sonic’s character design resembles shonen protagonists moreso than the main characters of silent cartoons, don’t believe me?

Sure, Sonic has a cartoony anatomy, no one can deny that, but he also exhibits a lot of traits from shonen characters such as spiky hair/quills (?), dynamic posing, a confident, courageous and energetic personality and most importantly, fighting spirit.

If you compare Sonic’s personality and more specifically, his abilities and moves to, say, cartoon speedy characters like the Road Runner, there’s a pretty big disconnection between him and western cartoon characters. Hell, this disconnection is even just as present if you compare him with a character like The Flash from DC.

Simply put, Sonic acts, moves and more importantly, fights like a shonen anime character. He doesn’t just go Super Saiyan and that’s it. Here’s even a quick comparison if necessary.

And this is important because this doesn’t apply just to him, but the whole franchise as a whole and when it takes a more western approach, all of these details are kinda lost or more downplayed, of course this depends on the artists and there’s YMMV at hand, but I think my point is clear.

My second point is...SoJ has consistently proven they have a much clearer grasp on how Sonic’s world and characters are compared to SoA.

Hear me out, yes, Sonic 06 and ShtH exist and yes, SoJ is not perfect by any means. But hear me out...when did the characters start to get flanderized and turned into parodies of themselves? In the 2010s...and when did SEGA move from Japanese to western writers in the games?

Of course it was more then that since there’s a whole tone shift that came with this decade and the new writers, but it’s not a coincidence that when writing in Sonic started to decay, western writers also happened to get on board with the games.

Besides that, SoA has a wide history of not getting Sonic’s tone and characters, from how they made media without much of Sonic Team’s input, to altering how characters are seen in the west. (Such as how they amped up Sonic’s attitude in their media or how the English scripts of the games featured things like Sonic seemingly barely tolerating Amy while the JP scripts portrayed this as Sonic just not understanding girls all that well instead, or for more recent examples, the addition of the ‘’torture’’ line in Forces). Not only that, but even ignoring obvious infamous writers like Ken Penders, even the ‘’best’’ writers from the western side of Sonic are still not above of giving us Pontaff-esque gems.

Like this one.

Or alternatively, I feel like sometimes western writers on Sonic rely a bit too much on their personal vision about Sonic which may or may not be a good thing, clear examples of this are Ian Flynn himself and Pontaff.

By contrast, while SoJ has it’s own share of notorious inconsistencies when dealing with writing (The 2000s era is a big offender), it seems that for them Sonic hasn’t changed much and this is visible not only on the JP scripts of the Modern games which are for the most part better than the ENG ones, but also things like the Sonic Channel comics and the recent one-shots they made with Sonic interacting with the cast show that for all intents and purposes, the Japanese’s staff vision of Sonic is much more clear and consistent compared to the west. Because of this, I’d rather have a good Japanese writer on Sonic games with the localization being focused on being faithful with the original script than have a more western writers dramatically changing the characters. (I don’t mention the tone since either way, SEGA is the one in charge of that and the writers have to follow that)

My last and very subjective point is that, at least for me, everything SoA does with Sonic involving the writing and canon feels like a dumbed down version of the source material. One of the reasons it bugs me so much that in the latest decade Sonic has taken a more western direction is because a lot of what I pointed out gets lost as a result, even if some of those elements are still there, you can tell they’re more downplayed with products like the Tyson Hesse shorts having a more predominant cartoon direction. If any of you have been following my blog for a long time, you should be aware that just because I prefer the Japanese Sonic content doesn’t mean I won’t give the western products a chance, my enjoyment for Mania, the Tyson Hesse shorts and the movie should be a testament of that, but at the same time I can’t help but being sour about the fact that because of these products, we don’t have stuff like a new anime for Sonic or even a serialized ‘’main’’ manga as an alternative for the comics, and my hype for these products is generally more subdued as a result since I’d wish SEGA rather spent that money and resources on more Japanese content than just merchandise.

In particular, because Sonic is a Japanese franchise with a notorious inspiration from anime, what I get from this is a pretty big contradiction. I know Sonic is much more popular on the west but...is it really necessary for his game or products to be handled by western creators to keep their appeal?

For instance, imagine if Dragon Ball’s manga and anime got replaced by western comics and animated series because of it’s world-wide appeal, would that really be the same?

Or imagine the same thing with Fullmetal Alchemist, a pretty aclaimed anime that has a lot of western influence. Would it really not matter at all if it’s Japanese products were replaced with western ones?

At least for me, it wouldn’t.

And what I said about American versions of Japanese franchises being nothing more than watered down versions of the source material? I have that view because of countless examples.

Mega Man and how the English manuals removed a lot of important information about the story of the Blue Bomber’s game and world, causing a lot of plot holes in the process.

American remakes like Godzilla 1998 or Dragon Ball Evolution being an in-name only version of the source material.

Or the many censored anime English dubs from the 2000s, for instance, whenever I see the Yu-Gi-Oh! dubs, I only see a very dumbed down and childish version of a show that was originally a shonen.

And I know that all of these things don’t have to necessarely get lost since every creator is different and there’s franchises like Avatar which are made on the west but draw a lot of inspiration from anime and I’m aware of that, and I want to make it clear that I’m not trying to say that American writers are not allowed to work on Sonic, what I’m trying to say is that inevitably there’s always gonna be some culture dissonance and clash when writers from another culture handle a foreign franchise. And even with examples like ATLA, I think being made by one culture while being inspired by the other is actually a big part of these franchises appeal and it’s something that can’t simply be replicated by handing it to creators from that specific culture they draw inspiration from.

I think James Rolfe’s quote about the same thing with the Godzilla franchise sums up how I feel about this.

‘‘It’s like champagne, anybody can make their own and call it champagne, but unless it’s from Champagne France, it’s not real champagne’‘

So, this last part was very subjective, but I think this post in general sums up why I dislike so much the idea of Sonic having western writers specifically in the games or just focusing more on that side in general.

But what do you guys think? I guess I am too biased so that’s why I wanted to ask for opinions and discuss this topic.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic musing #opinion

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franklyshipping · 3 years

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One On One Meeting (Part 4) Rewritten ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOOHOOO NEXT REWRITTEN ONE BABEY! LET’S GET SOME MORE DARK AND BIM ACTION LET’S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler @bimlee-trimmer and @bim-trimler

A week precisely. Seven days of wondering, of waiting. Until Bim walked into his room one day, to then discover a folded note placed neatly at the centre of his bed. His name flowed in shining silver calligraphy, and Bim knew it could only be from one person. He smiled cutely, opening the envelope with fumbling fingers. Inside he found a crisp white note, with a message written in black ink. It read thus:

“Bim,

I cordially invite you to a private meeting, in my personal quarters this afternoon at 3pm. I think it is about time we delved deeper into what you enjoy, if you are willing of course. I hope that you are . . . because I think this is something we can both derive pleasure from.

Kind regards, Darkiplier.”

Bim was shaking, gawking, and grinning so adorably with disbelief that this was actually happening! This was a thing and the thing was real and the thing was actually going to happen! Dark had his private phone number transcribed at the bottom of the note, so Bim hurriedly and eagerly sent a text to it. The advantage of texting was that Bim could hide his nerves and excitement, which would have been impossible if he was having to speak the following words:

“Dark,

I accept your invitation, and look forward to seeing you!

Kind regards, Bim Trimmer.”

Bim slouched as he sat on his bed, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. 11:14am. He twiddled his thumbs with a heavy sigh, eyes wide with racing thoughts as he began his waiting. The 3 hours and 46 minutes were not spent in a relaxing or calm state of mind. Bim watched the clock impatiently, trying not to dwell on the endless possibilities that existed in terms of what Dark might do to him . . . but he couldn’t help but think on it. He shivered with the constant reminder of how effective Dark had been the last time. Those thoughts kept him going until eventually . . . the time came.

‘Okay . . . okay you can do this, you can do this.’

Bim mumbled to himself, readjusting his glasses and straightening his posture as he hovered outside Dark’s room. He swallowed heavily and exhaled before knocking twice on the cold grey door, and he only had to wait a few seconds before it swung open for him . . . and a voice echoed from within.

‘Ahh Bim, I’m so glad you could make it. Do come in.’

Dark’s calm and serene voice caused butterflies to swoop in Bim’s tummy as he crossed the threshold, shutting the door delicately behind him. He gasped lightly at the interior of Dark’s room, because the colouring wasn’t what he’d anticipated. Instead of brooding colours, the walls were painted in a faded red, giving the room a pleasant warmth as light and medium greys made up the curtains and bed covers. The bed in question was a four poster, but it wasn’t exceedingly extravagant, thus making it pleasant to the eye. At the foot of said bed, Dark was leant against one of the bedposts with a light smile, which helped calm Bim’s nerves. Dark watched Bim tentatively looking around and pacing more into the room, and the suited man smiled when Bim muttered.

‘You uhm, you have a really nice room.’

Bim complimented with a smile, making Dark smile wider at him as he replied playfully.

‘I know.’

Bim laughed lightly through his nose as the figurative ice was broken. Dark chuckled gently as he paced over to Bim, standing in front of him with a loose stance. He had been looking forward to this, but he’d wanted to look into the topic first. Dark always preferred it when he had an abundance of knowledge of a topic, just for his own satisfaction. Dark had been intensely curious, and that curiosity had only grown as he perused blogs, forums and even a number of video platforms. He was utterly fascinated with the whole thing, and as a result he had been thinking about barely anything else. Dark grinned gently, projecting innocence which Bim immediately bought. Dark had this entire scenario planned, to the last detail.

‘I’ve been doing a bit of research, and I’d very much like to tell you about my findings. May I?’

Dark extended his hand to Bim, much like ballroom dancer would to their partner before a performance. Bim was hesitant and already flustered, but he took Dark’s hand nevertheless. Dark’s lips curled into a wide smirk as Bim fell into the trap. He grasped his hand tightly, yanked him close, and then lifted him over his shoulder with wonderful grace. Dark didn’t bother hiding his laughter when Bim yelped and let out a stream of surprised giggles. Giggles which would be the first of many.

‘Dahark! Whahat are you dohoing?!’

Bim spluttered, before squealing sweetly as Dark spun him gently about the room. Bim squeezed his eyes shut as he giggled harder, clinging to the back of Dark’s jacket cutely. Dark replied nonchalantly with a grin.

‘Well, one thing I found out, is that taking your victim by surprise can often heighten the anticipation . . .’

Bim gasped as Dark dropped him onto the bed, looking up giddily as Dark crawled on top of him on his hands and knees, with glittering eyes. When Dark had settled himself on Bim’s waist, and he smirked and raised an eyebrow.

‘Would that be correct?’

Bim gulped at the teasy tone and nodded. Yep. Bim would definitely say that the anticipation was really fricking heightened! Bim’s cheeks already beginning to flush as he pressed himself into the comfy bed cutely, which satisfied Dark to no end. The suited man then decided to place his hands either side of Bim’s head, and let his body rest gently on top of Bim’s entirely. He wanted to be as close to the ticklish man as possible.

‘Good . . . very good. Now then, where to begin?’

Bim could only lie there with bated breath, watching as Dark’s mind whirred with ideas galore. Eventually though, Dark grinned, and decided he would just dive in, almost literally. He smirked at Bim and lunged down so he could evilly nuzzle into his neck. Bim squealed instantly, and loudly too, because Dark’s facial hair was one of the most diabolical tickling sensations he’d ever felt!

‘Nahaha f-frihihick!’

Dark snickered, burrowing into the crook of Bim’s neck as much as he could, rubbed torturously against Bim’s beautifully pale, and sensitive skin.

‘Ahh yes your neck, such a vulnerable area. Such a ticklish area.’

Bim shivered and scrunched as the teasing words slipped through Dark’s lips, and Bim tried to hide his neck as he beamed.

‘Nahahat thehehere!’

Bim wailed, kicking his feet out lightly as he grasped the bedsheets at his sides. Sparks of electricity were shooting down his spine and round his ears unbearably, and this was only the beginning. Dark grinned, the euphoria he was getting from all this was intoxicating. He hummed, before complying and withdrawing gently.

‘As you wish.’

Bim breathed slowly, his face burning as Dark’s amused expression filled his vision. He jumped when Dark reached a hand towards him, only to rest the back of it against his cheek curiously. Dark laughed gently, sounding somewhat affectionate.

‘So flustered already . . . and this is only the start.’

Bim looked away bashfully as Dark moved his hand away. Then, Dark cleared his throat, before speaking low and calm.

‘Now, I shall need your co-operation for this next part. If you would kindly remove your shirt, we can then get started.’

Dark snickered at Bim’s surprised wide eyes, and hesitation. Bim did nothing for a few seconds, going red at the thought of being shirtless in front of Dark. It didn’t make him uncomfortable, it just flustered him beyond belief. Dark narrowed his eyes then, and decided that a change of tone was in order.

'Do I need to repeat myself? I told you to take your shirt off . . . now.’

Bim quivered at Dark’s command, and nibbled his bottom lip as he unbuttoned the soft flannel shirt he wore. He sat up as he removed it, smiling a little as the fresh air hit his torso. Dark took it from him and tossed it aside, making Bim giggle gently. Bim looked at Dark as his arms folded across his torso subconsciously.

'So . . . what now?’

Dark was excited at Bim’s clear, yet nervous, eagerness, and it spurred him to continue on. He gently placed a hand on Bim’s chest, before pushing him back down onto his back, and making him gasp cutely. Bim was lying down fully now as Dark took his wrists in his hands with a grin.

'Now you, are going to keep these-’

Dark wrenched Bim’s arms above his head, relishing in Bim’s flustered reactions, he was ever so vocal and emotive. Yelps, giggles, squeaks and whimpers, they were all music to Dark’s ears. He locked eyes with Bim, irises connecting in the air.

’-up here. Is that understood?’

Bim could feel bubbles fizzing in his chest at Dark’s demeanour, a demeanour which he knew would usually terrify him to the core. But here and now it only made him feel intense joy, despite how embarrassed he was. His eyes were wide and he swallowed gently, his voice so meek and sweet.

'I-I understand.’

'Good boy.’

Dark adored Bim’s little hitched breaths as he sneered and looked over Bim’s form, fully exposed and all his . . . to do with as he pleased. So he began. Dark let his fingers dart out, and scribble at Bim’s ribcage, causing a plethora of bubbly laughs and squeaks to come from him. Bim did manage to follow Dark’s order, managing to keep his arms kept still for now.

'AHAHAHA SHIHIHIT!’

Dark let out a faked gasp before digging in harder, making Bim’s laughter increased ten-fold as Dark chided him playfully.

'Such bad language Bim, I think a punishment is in order!’

Dark’s hands moved down to squeeze Bim’s fleshy sides, causing him to buck and cackle rapidly at the sudden change. Bim’s head thrown back as Dark’s deft movements proved to be his undoing, the harder tickling really getting to him in the way he liked best.

'NOHOHOHO IHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRY!’

Dark laughed. It was an immeasurably evil sound that sounded like it only really belonged in a fairy-tale. He narrowed his eyes as he squeezed mercilessly, his fingers working overtime to deliver Bim’s torture. He sneered as he cooed in a childish voice, since he remembered reading that it was an excellent form of verbal teasing.

'Awww, can little Bim not handle all the tickles? Poor baby . . .’

Bim stammered through his wild laughter, his blush now a furious wine colour from Dark’s teasing. Baby talk such as this had a tendency to make Bim’s insides melt and his speech unintelligible, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Dark made a mental note of this particular point as his blunt finger nails spidered relentlessly.

'NOHOHOHO!’

Dark furrowed his eyebrows, and seeded his voice with sarcasm as he replied.

'No? That’s not a very clear answer, no what exactly?’

Dark lightened his touch to strokes and flutters as Bim spluttered amidst his giggle fit, since Dark didn’t quite want to overwhelm Bim quite yet.

'Ihihi dohohon’t knohohow!’

Dark laughed again as he stroked over Bim’s sides, gradually moving his fingertips over Bim’s belly, making him grin and yip. Dark sighed, and then allowed his fingers to rest for a moment so that Bim could catch his breath. Dark smirked mischievously as he held his hands up, pretending to inspect them.

'I think these have done a pretty good job so far, don’t you?’

Dark wiggled his fingers in the air tauntingly, making Bim grin and half-hide his face as he nodded gently. Dark hummed with satisfaction.

'But now I think we should move onto something new . . .’

Bim felt twinges of both excitement and anxiety as his gaze unwittingly lingered on Dark’s hands, and Dark frowned a little at seeing Bim’s dejected look. He couldn’t have that. He leant forward with a cheeky grin.

'Oh don’t you worry, they’ll be back to get you soon.’

Bim shuddered and giggled when a few stray fingers tickled under his chin, and with Bim’s smile back in place, Dark reached behind him. He searched in his back pocket for something, and he held it between his thumb and forefinger and brought it slowly into Bim’s line of sight. Bim’s breath shattered down his throat as he saw a black, stiff feather. Oh no. Dark sneered as he twirled it about carefully, loving how Bim’s eyes followed it like a hawk.

'It fascinates me how something so small and delicate can be perceived with so much fear.’

Dark brought the tip of the feather down and flicked it over the skin of Bim’s waistline, and he found himself enamoured at Bim’s sharp gasp and cute whimper.

'Oh noho . . .’

Bim hid his face as he squeaked, the anticipation wearing away at his resolve. Well, what was left of it. Dark removed his tool with a glint in his eye as he went back to twirling it in the air, whilst making his voice clear and crisp.

'Don’t try to hide it. We both know how much you want this.’

Bim was speechless, all his senses focusing on the tiny thing that Dark taunted him with. He was enraptured by Dark’s voice and he shivered under Dark’s penetrating gaze as the feather descended to flick at his waistline again . . . but that was it. Just a flick. Bim wanted more, and Dark’s grin told Bim that Dark new exactly what he was doing right now.

'Why let yourself suffer? Just ask for what you so clearly want . . .’

The feather flicked again, but this time under Bim’s navel. He squealed and giggled at the brief feeling, and looked up to Dark with a pitiful expression. Not that it swayed Dark in any way. Bim gulped and faced the truth of what he would have to do to get what he wanted, and so he finally took a deep breath.

'Pleas-AHA!!!’

Dark chuckled as he teased the poor man with another tantalising flick under his navel, forcing Bim to have to collect himself, desperately trying again to get his words out.

'P-Please tick-AHFRIHICK!’

Dark snickered as he cut Bim off again, his reactions were so ceaselessly entertaining to Dark. He maintained an innocent grin when Bim narrowed his eyes at him with a heavy flush, but then Bim gulped . . . and finally managed to whisper to the room.

'Please . . . t-tickle me.’

Dark allowed a small silence to ensue, so that Bim’s words had time to sink in for both of them, and Dark realised that he was so proud of Bim. He knew it would have been a difficult thing for him, so he was impressed that Bim managed to overcome his own nervousness. Dark leant over him, smiling with bright eyes alight with his pride and his mischief in a shudder inducing concoction. Bim gulped as his voice filled the air.

'Since you asked so nicely . . . here’s your reward.’

Bim’s reaction bordered on a scream as Dark manipulated the feather beautifully, dragging and scribbling it over Bim’s ticklish tummy with a deft ruthlessness. Today, Bim learnt never to underestimate the softer things.

'OHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAD!’

Bim shrieked as the feather made its tickly journey, it was so soft and precise that he almost in immediate hysterics. His blazing cheeks were moist with fresh tears of mirth as he squirmed and shook with the force of his laughter. Dark was afire with mischief by this point as he teased.

'Tiiickle tickle Bim . . .’

Dark took note of how Bim bucked the closer he got to his waistline, his laughter going up an octave in correlation with the feather’s journey. However, the strongest reactions came forth the closer he got to Bim’s navel. He would jump sharply and become increasingly desperate in his voice, all of which was ceaselessly intriguing to Dark. Especially since his arms had miraculously stayed put, which he certainly hadn’t expected.

'DAHAHAHARK DOHOHOHON’T!

Dark snickered as he sighed contentedly, he’d really underestimated how much he would enjoy himself with all this. He found himself feeling a heavy need to tease the man beneath him, the rush it gave Dark was indescribable.

'Don’t? First you want it and now you don’t? I can assure you that indecisiveness isn’t the most attractive quality Bim.’

Bim cackled at Dark’s words, as well as the fact that the feather’s journey had switched courses. It wasn’t trailing and fluttering . . . it was circling. Bim felt a pang in his chest as he realised Dark’s course of action, and he couldn’t stop his words tumbling forth as a result.

'DOHOHON’T DOHO IHIHIT!’

Dark chuckled, he knew that despite his ravished state it wouldn’t have taken Bim long to realise what he’d have to endure next. He feigned innocent curiosity.

'Don’t do what?’

Dark grinned before dipping the feather in experimentally, and he was both shocked and ecstatic at the rough, strangled noise that Bim let out.

'AH-ACK!’

Bim shook his head rapidly as he peeked from under his arm, repressing a shudder at the predatory gleam that rested in Dark’s eyes.

'Ohhh . . . do you mean this?’

Bim screamed as Dark then wiggled the feather ferociously, the soft fibres reaching every hidden nerve inside his navel. This was Bim’s worst tickle spot by a mile, so needless to say . . . he absolutely lost it.

'AHAHAHA NAHAHA!’

It was unbearably amazing, but there was only so much he could take. Bim could feel his vision blurring, and the rest of his body felt numb because of how his number one nerve bundle was being tormented. Bim’s arms came slamming down onto Dark’s, pushing in earnest as his desperation consumed him.

'STAHAHA I CAHAHAHA!’

Dark smiled as he saw Bim’s needy state and stopped carefully, allowing Bim to grasp his hands tightly. Dark snickered heavily, his cheeky and mischievous frame of mind still fully in place.

'So desperate, and from a simple bit of tickling no less.’

Bim glared cutely at Dark and mumbled embarrassedly.

'Shut up yohou ass . . .’

As soon as the words left Bim, he immediately felt that something wasn’t right . . . because a light ringing then developed in his ears. The temperature dropped in the air around him, and he felt goose-bumps appear on his arms. He flicked his eyes to Dark who was staring at him, and he seemed fixated as he spoke.

'Excuse me?’

Bim gulped and shivered at Dark’s dulcet tone, his rusted orbs flicking over him haphazardly as he inched closer. Bim’s mind was a hurricane of emotion as Dark got ever closer, the pure anticipation of what was to happen next fixed him to the spot. Bim tried shuffling away, but Dark quickly crawled on top of his thighs and leant back down towards his torso.

'So you think it’s okay to not only disobey me by bringing your arms down . . . but to insult me too?’

Bim’s arms and fists clenched giddily as Dark rested his chin on his stomach, eyes looking at Bim expectantly as Bim stammered rapidly, his smile already returning.

'N-No I-I didn’t m-mean-!’

'Oh Bim . . .’

Dark made his tone into a dejected one, whilst internally he was relishing toying with Bim like this. The nervousness in his innocent eyes was simply delicious. He brushed his lips against Bim’s navel as he muttered.

'I didn’t want to have to do this . . . but you’ve forced my hand.’

Bim was trembling like a leaf, his breath leaving him in uneven gasps at the feeling of Dark’s stubble and the vibrations of his voice. Dark looked up at him with a feral grin, winking and growling.

'Now face the consequences!’

Without further ado, Dark proceeded to blow raspberry after rippling raspberry over Bim’s tummy, sides, waist, navel, anywhere he could reach basically. Bim was caught in the crossfire of how to react, there were snorts and cackles and squeaks and squeals. Fits of giggling preceding yelps of joy and mirth, and there were even moments of silence where his head was thrown back, as tears streamed over cheeks ablaze with every hue of red. Dark went to town, as they say. Integrating big raspberries and little raspberries with nibbles and nuzzles and pokes over the strips of skin and flesh presented to him.

'AHHHHH IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY!!! PLEHEHEASE!!!’

Bim tried curling into a ball, which only succeeded in making Dark more determined. Dark smirked against his belly as he nipped around Bim’s navel.

'Hmmm, I don’t think you’re very sincere.’

Dark chuckled at Bim’s loud wail as he begged.

‘IHIHI AHAHAM IHIHIHI SWEHEHEAR!!!’

Dark hummed with prideful satisfaction, administering a final raspberry to Bim’s belly button, before rearing up away from him. Bim was in a tickle fuelled daze with a grin firmly affixed to his lips, and he barely registered what was happening around him, until a glass of water was put in his line of sight. He was helped to sit up slowly, before he took the glass and gulped the water down generously. The cold liquid woke him up from his trance and reaffirmed him into reality, and he became aware of something resting on his back. A hand. He turned to see Dark, smiling. No malice or ulterior motive . . . he was just smiling.

'Feeling better?’

Bim nodded as his eyes began to droop, and he felt the glass of water leave his hand as he was laid back down upon the bed. The sheets were so soft, so warm, and he was oh so tired. But before Bim let himself fall away to rest, he mumbled a few words.

'Thank you. So . . . so much . . .’

With that said he drifted, just as a pair of soft lips touched his forehead and spoke with truth. Not just with truth . . . but with great affection too.

'Any time Bim. Any time.’

WOOOOO HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOOO LUV YOUS!!!

#markiplier #markiplier egos #darkiplier #dark #bim trimmer #bim #sfw #platonic #romantic #ego fic #ego fanfic #rewritten #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #luv these bois

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janiedean · 3 years

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I feel bad for all the nice J*nsa shippers who like their ship for whatever reasons (tropes, pretty art, aesthetic appeal, whatever) and know it's not canon but get associated with the misogynistic Dany hating crowd who act like Jon being attracted to Ygritte is J*nsa foreshadowing because red hair (I guess Jon should fuck Edmure Tully too? Omg give me Dark!Jon getting revenge on Catelyn by seducing her brother!) Tell me something. I'm new to the fandom but was J*nsa popular before the show? And I've heard something about the OG J*nsa shippers being alienated by the new shippers who insisted it had to be canon and acted like the series is called, "A song of J*nsa #danysux." I don't find that hard to believe because I know people who are now ashamed of calling themselves J*nsa shippers. Like, at this point, it's not only rival shippers who hate it. Even Gendrya/Braime/Jon stans/etc have started disliking that ship. You know your fandom is a problem when people who have nothing to do with Jnsa have a problem with it.

me: reads this ask

me: iwastheregandalf.gif which I can't find now but

okay anon buckle up because I am sadly well-equipped to answer this ask but before I do lemme tell you dark jon seducing edmure to take revenge on cat is LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD but *clears throat* ALL RIGHT THEN.

disclaimer: as anon says I have no issue with like the shippers mentioned by anon in the beginning and ngl I agree, I have ABSOLUTELY ZERO FUCKING STAKES in the j*nsa vs j*nerys war and the only het jon ship I gaf about is jon/ygritte and we all know where that ended up I just... have been here since 2011/adwd was over and all the fic around was just for the books under secret lj communities and asoiaf qualified for yuletide and I have... seen... things.... and I actually have like uh had... beef... with some people in there and I know things bc ppl who hated those others told me stuff so anyway *sigh* buckle up anon I'mma tell you the story of jon shipwars through the years

in order, the old gods help me here, under the cut bc this is long as fuck

when I got into fandom also given what numbers were on ao3 one ship was popular and it was sansan. no like sansan was lit. the only asoiaf ship on ao3 with more than 200 fics. jb had twenty when i checked first. jc had like around 100-ish because of the show but sansan dwarfed anything. I posted the first jon/ygritte fic on the ao3 tag and the fourth throbb fic and like the others were all reposts from lj kinkmemes. nothing was popular before the show except for sansan when it comes to huge numbers bc grrm doesn't like fic and it was all hush hush until the show made it impossible to control and that ship was the one with a huge enough fanbase it actually had numbers, so like... j*nsa wasn't popular in the way nothing else was popular until it got screentime on the show

now, that stated, j*nsa had a... fair amount of fic for a rareship which was mostly book-based and from og shippers that were there from before the show and liked it for what it was but literally none of them thought it was gonna be canon, like it wasn't huge or anything but it had a small but dedicated fanbase who did their own thing and thought it was fun/liked the idea but that was it

that fandom had their own niche of hcs that they cultivated and shit except that like... at the end of S5/beginning of S6 there was a surge in shipping for... well obvious reasons bc it was obv sansa was getting to the wall and that would have been all nice and good but a) it was the time puritanical shipping was starting to take root and the 'shipping sansa with sandor or tyrion is hella problematic' rhetoric had started to circle coming from sans*ery shippers mostly but I'mma not open that fucking can of worms here, b) while the ending of S5 had more of a theon/sansa spike, the j*nsa stuff started getting big

now here we have to mention my villain origin story ie: j*nsa fandom had this one stan whose name I won't make because honestly it's been years and if she's still around I don't want her to remember I exist who was a bnf, wrote for... the website that created the whole larry/carol thing etc who was really fixed on this thing that j*nsa was actually canon and started writing extremely popular meta about it. now you're gonna ask how do you know, I know because this person once wrote a meta named 'why robb stark is a dick' and I told her that it was really fucking bad meta and she took it so badly she kept on trash talking me on her blog/her podcast (I was apparently the insane robb stark fangirl l m a o good lord) and like that was when some sane ppl who argued with her informed me in pvt that she was basically harping on the CANON thing when they'd have been okay with like... it being crackshipping and that she was basically cultivating a hoarde of followers who were harping on them/the ogs and basically ostracizing them;

I would like to add that this person - before her tumblr got 'accidentally deleted' and remade it therefore deleted most receipts for, er, her so-called meta which included stuff like ned and cat raised sansa as a sexual object and only wanted to sell her like cattle - had at some point started a round robin fic thing where... some of the characters mocked openly said stuff that some of the og fans had said specifically targeting them and people in that side basically went harassing anyone who didn't agree with that specific notion

now never mind that this person basically coined an entire term to describe ppl who liked white guys and excused all their wrongdoings out of my conversation re robb basically lying about everything I said as if I didn't have the receipts and tried to sell shirts with it and it didn't work and like then she got kicked out of her own website because she was telling her commenters disagreeing pretty shitty insults (considering I was called psychotic for disagreeing with her that time I don't doubt it) I think at some point she stepped back from fandom bc idk wtf she's up to these days and I don't want to, but basically at that point the dam was broken and there was a bunch of puritanical shippers harping on anyone who didn't agree with j*nsa is canon endgame stuff

this also includes an incident when those ppl were like... passing themselves as throbb shippers and ended up trying to tell t*hramsay shippers off the theon tag based on moral reasons and I ended up arguing with all of them (and they were all from that crowd) which in turn landed me in contact with other og j*nsa shippers who were like detached from that fandom bc those same people harassed them away as well ssooooo fun

anyway when S6 happened everyone was high on it and whatnot but I wasn't gonna begrudge them that I mean... you shipped it for years, canon is delivering you, good for you, but then j*nerys happened

god j*nerys happened

aaand basically...... I mean personally I was there like are y'all seriously arguing about the best incest jon ship out there but like basically the j*nsa endgame side was like AH JON IS PLAYING DANY SEE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, the j*nerys obv got defensive af and both sides were sort of alternatively shitting on jon/ygritte anyway and depicting any other romantic rship jon could have as abusive™ and during S8 it just got worse and like I tried to stay out of it but basically from what I'm seeing now idk how the j*neryses are doing but on the j*nsa one it's ah jon's gonna play dany anyway and she's going to go insane like in the show so SHOW TRUTHING EVERY OTHER WAY and like again denying that sandor exists or that tyrion exists and like I barely touch my corner (sansan) but I ended up arguing with j*nsa/th*nsa people on twitter who were antis and is2g it was white-hair inducing and I know for sure the sansa/tyrion shippers were harassed to hell and back throughout so FUN

and even if the show didn't go there now since everyone there banked on the jnsa endgame thing and admitting you're wrong is like... not a thing, they still haven't let go of it and attach to that ship any shred of evidence which honestly is grasping at straws half of the time (like... the sansa/alysanne parallels like guys please no) and which is why every other ship is starting to get fed up, attaching canon proof of stuff from other ships onto theirs see that batb argument and jb is platonic but jonsa is not nvm taking all the sansan stuff and throwing it on j*nsa but then denying that sansan has canon evidence (like guys I had to read sansa touching his shoulder when saying gregor wasn't a true knight wasn't meaningful and we were seeing things please) and blah blah blah

this also goes hand in hand with the fixation on like... villanizing dany at all costs and like is2g I have zero investment in dany or her storyline I don't even remember it and I don't particularly care abt her either way and sure af I'm not for j*nerys endgame but like.... some stuff I read is completely excessive esp when fixing on how she's a completely mad tyrant who's gonna have to be put down and like... guys no

(also there's some srs stannis hate in that corner which I honestly don't get why they even care abt stannis but I had to read stuff like ppl don't recognize that dany and stannis are the real villains in this saga and like........ idek)

I think most of the og shippers are gone or don't ship it openly bc they don't want to be attached to the drama but like I also think they're pissing off everyone else bc like... I mean a bunch of them also were down with sansa being paired with other ppl as long as it meant a good ending for her except those ppl were... like everyone but the ppl she has actual contact with in canon which meant that at some point sansa/gendry was a thing and like.... you can imagine why arya/gendry shippers & arya stans were fed up, and there's also this tendency to behave like sansa is the center of the entire saga which like these books is named a song of jon snow basically can we pls make peace with it and personally I've had it with both j*nsa and j*nerys people since they started with that dumbass JON/YGRITTE WAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP rhetoric but I'm also fed up with the total ignoring that sandor exists/depicting us as delusional and honestly I also was by proxy fed up from the harassing of the sansa/tyrion shippers soooooooooooo

there were also instances of 'well theon is an acceptable choice other than jon bc he can't threaten her' which... i mean we all know what that meant and I'm not even commenting it bc it's one AM and I have no force to but I don't have to explain why it's not a progressive take now do I

there were also metas about how cousin incest being legal in half of the world means that jondany is a worse incest and j*nsa doesn't count as such and I was basically there like guys please just fucking own up to it but honestly I chose to forgot where I read that and I couldn't find the link if I tried

tldr: no one wants to admit that it's not gonna be endgame which considering the amount of fic they have on ao3 is imvho useless bc they have more content than like.. anything I ship that's not jb or that's actually like canon *cries in joncon/rhaegar but I mean renly/loras is canon and has less fic than them* so idk what's the problem with enjoying that instead of insisting it's gonna be canon when not even the show validated it while show truthing anyway when the only show truthing that can be truthed is the small council made of minorities and possibly jon eventually fucking off with the wildlings but not like that but like most people who thought it wasn't gonna be endgame had left/were made to leave by the time S7 rolled by and at this point since wow isn't out yet everyone is fandom-grasping at straws to find stuff to discourse on and we're here beating dead horses *shrug*

so that's... how it is but I would again like to point out that I don't judge ppl on their shipping, I don't particularly care about this entire feud bc I only ship jon with ppl he's not related to in whichever way and I try to stay out of this mess bc I don't really care to argue with ppl who have already decided to bend canon to whatever they want and will have to realize that it's not what grrm wrote at some point but like I have a very good memory and the above rant is as objective as possible also bc again I don't literally have a stake in that race I just think romantic/endgame j*nsa is not a thing and that ppl should stay in their lane and not harping on other ppl who ship whatever in general but especially when their ship is the most popular thing in fandom in the first place /two cents

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #anonymous #ask post #anti-jonsa #anti jonsa #anti-jonerys #anti jonerys #both of them for equality

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