#FEMALE WOW PLAYER PROBLEMS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somejazzinthemorning · 1 year

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tightrope. 03

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

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

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

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

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

I woke up late, the next day.

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

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

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

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

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither am I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s on your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W Series?” He suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I waved at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, for fucks sake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The two of us.”

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

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

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He messed up?”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stay?” She asked me.

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

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bye!”

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

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I turned to him, curious.

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

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

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

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

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

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

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

"I'll hold you to that."

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because of me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

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

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

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

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

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

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

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

"No."

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

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

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

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

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

Next Chapter: 04.

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

#tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #fanf1ction #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr

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barbiecrocs · 1 year

Text

Hard to hate.

Eddie Munson

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

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

WC.5,433

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't." You inch.

"Do." He inches.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aw man."

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

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

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

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

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

"But you don't have to."

"But I want to."

"I said you don't have to."

"I said I want to."

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

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

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

"How come you hate me so much?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#smut #eddie munson #eddie #stranger things #stranger things smut #enemies to lovers #eddie x fem!reader #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #y/n smut #eddie x y/n smut

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thewertsearch · 1 year

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ha!

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

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

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

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

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

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

What's the problem, Karkat?

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

Guess we're about to find out!

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #2790 #s70

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resizura · 3 months

Note

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

I'm answering this late I am very sorry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ask #whoo this was a lot #im sure i missed something too #i wanted to keep talking about re4r's themes and why they make me mad #but! maybe another day #i have a lot to say

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vermillioncourt-if · 4 months

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyways, have a good day yall <3

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

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

Thanks guys!

#shen talks

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semi-imaginary-place · 10 days

Text

ffxiv 5.x dancer, gunbreaker, blue mage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ffxiv #ffxiv 5.x

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canirove · 2 years

Text

Red & Blue | Chapter 21

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“This place is beautiful” says Rob, my agent, when he comes into the house.

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t Mason around? I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Neither have I, I say to myself. It’s been a week since the gathering with our friends, and he has only been in the house to get clean clothes, usually doing it when I’m out training. He’s been staying with Ben or Declan, completely ignoring my texts and calls, and apparently not letting them say a thing every time I text them and ask them about him.

“He is training.”

“Shame. How is your injury going?”

“I still have a few weeks to go” I say. Because besides Mason being angry with me and completely ignoring me, I got injured while training, probably because of everything that is going on in my life outside and inside the pitch. And just when we have to play the toughest games of the season.

“I’m sure the girls will do fine without you.”

“I hope so. Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Let’s sit down, shall we?”

Rob called me yesterday, saying that we had something important to discuss. And since then, I’ve been trying to figure out what could it be.

“So… I have news. Important news” he says, getting serious. “The bad couple of seasons Arsenal is having isn’t going unnoticed to anyone, and some other teams have started to move.”

“To move?” I ask.

“They are talking with the agents of some players. Myself included.”

“You mean… Other teams are interested on signing me?”

“They are. You are the star of the team. Well, you and Leah, but I don’t think anyone is gonna make her leave Arsenal. Ever. They’ve seen that despite the results, your performances keep being some of the best in Europe, and they think you would do much better if you were playing for them.”

“Oh, wow. Who has asked about me?”

“Chelsea, Bayern, Barcelona and Real Madrid.”

“Really?”

“Yep. You are one of the best female players out there. Having some of the best teams asking about you, isn’t weird.”

“Tell me more about their offers.”

“Chelsea’s is the lowest one. They know it’s very unlikely that you are gonna change one London team for another, but since you wouldn’t have to move anywhere and Mason already plays for them, they hope that it may make you choose them, have you as a couple playing for them. Barcelona’s offer is a good one,” Rob continues “but I see two problems. One, that playing may be a bit more difficult because they already have some of the best players and it is a risky move as we’ve seen with other players, and two, that they are sponsored by Nike and you are an Adidas girl.”

“What about Real Madrid and Bayern. They are with Adidas, right?”

“They are. And that’s why I think they are the most interesting offers. Both are great teams, especially Bayern. But Real Madrid’s deal is better in my opinion. They are paying you basically the same, but they want to you be their star. They have a really good project going on, building a young and strong team supported on veterans, and you would be like a leader for them. And they want you on all their campaigns, both with the women’s and the men’s teams. I know you’ll have to move to another country, but Madrid is just a couple of hours away.”

“It does sound interesting…”

“But it’s a lot, I know” Rob says. “They are not rushing it, so take your time to think about it. Talk with your family and friends, with Mason. See if you could make it work.”

“I will. Thank you, Rob.”

“Anything for you.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What are you doing here?" Mason says, walking into the kitchen.

"I live here."

"I know. I meant why are you here. Shouldn't you be on your way to Liverpool?"

"I'm injured, Mason. I can't play. But you probably don't care."

"I do care. How are you feeling?"

"Emotionally or physically speaking?"

"Both."

"Like shit" I say, getting up from my chair and leaving.

"Oh, so now that we are actually talking, which is what you've been wanting to do for almost two weeks, you are leaving?"

"It sucks, doesn't it? Now you'll understand what I've been feeling."

"What about what I've been feeling?" he says, raising his voice a bit. "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you everything."

"That's lying" he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, yes. I lied to you. Happy now?" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Of course not!"

"There is no need to yell, Mason. If you want to talk, maybe we should do it when you are a bit calmer."

"Yeah, sure" he chuckles. "I'm gonna check the treadmill."

"Enjoy" I say, finally leaving the kitchen and hiding in the bathroom to cry. Why did I behave like this? I want to fix things, and I probably just ruined them a bit more.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Ben... Why is Declan's car parked outside?" I ask him when I walk through the door.

"Hello, nice to see you too."

"Yes, hi, sorry. Is that Declan's car?"

"It is, yes."

"Is he here? I thought he was with Mason today."

"Yeah... About that… I may have said a little lie when I texted you earlier."

"Ben..." I say, starting to feel like something is going on.

"Follow me and I'll explain everything."

I do as he says, and when we make it to the living room, everyone is there. Leah, Aaron, Benjamin, Declan... And Mason.

"What is going on?" I ask.

"That's what I also want to know" Mason says, looking at everyone but me.

"This is an intervention" Leah says. "We all love you, and we can't see you being angry with each other anymore. You are behaving like kids, and it has to end. So, today, you are fixing things."

"She doesn't want to talk to me" Mason says.

"Said the one who ignores all my texts and told his friends to not talk to me either" I reply.

"See? Two kids" Leah says.

"Guys, you need to fix this" Aaron says. "You can't throw away what you have because of a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding that is all my fault" Benjamin says. "I should have never asked you about something so personal, even if we all are close friends. I'm sorry."

"It's ok" I say.

"We are gonna leave you alone so you can talk. Properly, like the adults you are" Leah says.

"Promise you'll do it, and that you won't break anything" Chilly says.

"I'll try."

"Mason?" he asks him.

"Yeah, yeah" he says.

"Good. We'll be on the kitchen" Leah says, everyone else following her.

Once they leave, I sit on one of the sofas and as far from Mason as I can. We stay in silence for a few minutes, both of us too stubborn to apologize first.

"I can't hear you!" Leah yells from the kitchen.

"We should probably talk about something. You know how scary she gets when she is mad."

"Ok" Mason says.

"Rob was at home the other day" I say after a few more seconds of silence.

"Oh, Rob. I haven't seen him in ages."

"That's what he said."

"What did he want?"

"I have offers to leave Arsenal."

"You what?" Mason says, raising his voice.

"What you heard."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm sure Leah and Aaron already know."

"Well, unlike others, they weren't ignoring me and leaving my texts as read."

"You are not letting it go, are you?"

"Me? Who got mad first? Who started ignoring the other?"

"I had my reasons to be mad at you. You lied to me and made me look like a fool in front of everyone."

"And I already apologized for that. Many times. Didn't you read all those texts I sent you?"

"I did."

"Then why are you still acting like this?"

"Because I'm hurt. That's why!" he says, raising his voice again. Now Leah and the others are definitely hearing us. "I thought we were at a point where we could share anything with the other. Where there were no secrets. And still, you kept one from me. You made me feel like you don't trust me the way I trust you."

"I trust you, Mason. I do."

"Then why didn't you tell me about Eric? You told me about Aaron and it didn't mean anything either. Why did you lie about him? I don’t care about how many guys you’ve been with."

"I... I don't know. When we had that conversation about our exes and hookups you had just been with him in Monaco and it felt... Weird. I don't know" I say, letting out a big sigh and sinking on the sofa.

"Weird" he chuckles.

"Yes, weird. Awkward. And you were talking about how small you and Foden looked next to him and Rúben Dias, and then about how I probably liked their clothes better than yours, and I felt like if I told you, you may feel less than them when you aren't. You aren't, Mason."

"Well, that’s exactly how you made me feel. Insecure, as if I was less than him. I was angry because you lied to me when I thought we could trust each other with anything, yes. But this…” he says, running a hand through his hair. “This is what really hurt me. You made me feel as if you were embarrassed of me, of dating me, and that it was the reason why you didn’t tell me. Eric is tall, strong, intelligent, has his own business, wears the clothes you like... And I'm nothing like that. You could have a guy like him, perfect for you. But you have me instead."

"I don't want a perfect guy, Mason. You've known it since we met" I say between sobs.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you, you stupid!" I say, fully crying now. "I want you and your horrible style. You and your silly jokes and dances. You and that smile that shows the dimple on your left cheek. You and the way you always know what to say to make me feel better, the way you understand me. You and the way you make me feel when we are together. Like I'm home, like everything will be alright even if the world outside is burning. I want you, Mason. You and no one else."

After that the silence is back, my sobs being the only noise in the room.

“Say something, Mason. Please” I beg him.

"Does all this mean that you aren't moving to Tottenham to be close to Dier?" he says with a smile. That smile.

"Oh, fuck off" I say, trying to sound angry. But I can't. I know we've kind of fixed things. His face says it all. And I can't be angry with him anymore. I just can't.

"I'm sorry for being a dick. And so insecure. But..."

"It's ok."

"Do you forgive?" he says, moving to sit next to me.

"Only if you forgive me first."

"Are you keeping other secrets from me? Other secret lovers?" he says, wiping away some of my tears.

"Leah and I kissed once."

"I know, she told me."

"She did?"

"Yep. And I've kissed her too. She said that it was a way to understand you and be able to give you better advice or something like that" he shrugs.

"Wow" I say, laughing for the first time in ages.

"I've missed hearing you laugh."

"I've missed you. All of you."

"Even when I leave my dirty underwear lying on the floor?"

"Even that. But please don't go back to doing it, I can't go through all this again."

"I won't, I promise."

"I love you, Mason."

"I love you too" he says before kissing me.

"Should we say something to the others?" I say when we break apart.

"Let them wait for a bit longer. I haven't kissed you for two weeks, I have to make up for all the time we’ve lost."

"Ok" I say, giggling like a little girl and feeling like, finally, everything is gonna be alright.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #football fanfic #football imagine

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raschuuuu · 7 months

Text

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

PART 3

Raiting/genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Pairings: Ruben Dias x female reader

Word count: 1229 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias one shot #football fic #football imagine #football one shot #mancity #manchester city #erling haaland #imagine #fanfic #football #premier league

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appleciderp · 1 year

Text

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

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

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

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

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

Onto the bullshit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Onto the points brought up by @spookykittenwrites

Ghoap

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

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

Death

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

Roach

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

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

Hell, they might not even bring him back.

Farah and Alex

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

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

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

Laswell's Wife

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

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

US can do no Wrong

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#if I see one more dudebro say 'but you didn't go through what I did with Ghost' I'm gonna scream #you might have loved him as an operator #but canonically he's only in 1 game #and had 0 personality #I'm not tagging anything bcz I don't want people yelling at me tbh

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