#and people will continue to not care bc its not happening to us. so whatever right?

[dogboytits]

i know its been said before but it truly is absolutely fucking crazy to me that saying that the genocide in palestine is bad is like.. a radical and controversial take. i cannot believe that more usamericans arent fucking furious that their tax money is being spent on committing genocide. why does no one give a shit. i feel like im losing it for real

[purinfelix]

just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs

@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl

@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog

@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora

@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife

@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc

(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

[spookykoolkat]

the red j.m. | chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR: NO GOOD

series masterlist | main masterlist |

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: you've been in jackson for a month now and things are still a little rough. you haven't found the right crowd to fit into yet, and thought maybe you might have to settle for the family of four you already know, until you meet your patrol partner, tyler. unfortunately, joel doesn't seem to like the idea of you with any other man but him.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, slight jealous!joel, x-rated descriptions, crude language, perv!joel, creepy!joel, mean joel not too mean tho, MDNI!!!

wc: 6.2k

na: HI! thank you for alllll of the love oh my god my little gothic heart is so full i love you guys!!! i hope this series is everything and more to you guys bc i love this so much! hopefully as chapters go by, i get better in my writing and hope everyone enjoys it! i appreciate all of your kind words and interactions with me and making me feel welcome since i am new to writing on tumblr and kind of took a six year break from writing oneshots/fanfictions LOL. anyways please enjoy this chapter things are g3tting a little hot and heavy :P I CANT WAITT i hope that my writing is cathartic for my big girls we do not get enough representation for us in stories and writings!please enjoy! smut coming soon fr fr LMFAOO

i appreciate all reblogs, likes and comments feel free to do any one of those things or ALL! if u think its deserved :P

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DECEMBER 21ST, 2024

YOU

you’ve been in jackson for a month now. you couldn’t believe it, you truly had every doubt about staying even a week. but, it’s probably the calmest life you’ve lived in a very long time. you enjoyed it and you truly felt you’d made the right decision, it didn’t take much convincing either. but, you still haven’t unpacked the items maria gave you and continues to give you. just in case. 

the neighbors are learning your name, as you are with them, and they actually care. as much as you let them. you felt quite bad because you found yourself still not clicking with anyone around you. and you’ve tried. the people your age find you boring, almost a dark cloud over them, bursting their bubbles. younger kids only approach you because of ellie, asking for advice on stance and grip. the older group, around tommy and joel’s age, finds you a bit much. 

your language, your lack of social awareness–sometimes it gets embarrassing. saying something old heads wouldn’t necessarily like, being too blunt and a little explicit. joel figured you should hang around your age group, yet you didn’t really click in with the rest. he was far from embarrassed being around you, you just said the things he was thinking out loud.

you only found yourself clicking with joel. in many ways, as much as he let you. he was standoffish most of the time, barely cracking a smile at your weird habits and the noises you make when you’re passed out on the couch. he refused to let you break him, this wall that he had up to survive. do not get attached. he thought, maybe the less he knew you the less it’d hurt to have anything happen to you. but it seems even as little as he does know you, he’s still feeling that tug at his heart laying his eyes on you. 

it was too late. whoops.

joel doesn’t want to address that feeling, and he doesn’t want to call it as it is. he actually cares about you. he had no choice but to call it that, because why else would he lie to you about finding cassettes in the house?— so that you didn’t know what he really did to get you whatever he could get his hands on. 

he didn’t want you to know that he actually smuggled in goods that he and his family needed, and while bribing, stealing, trading and selling for necessities, he made it a mission to find at least one cassette tape for you. he didn’t know you actually saw him red handed, and you still didn’t know where those boxes were coming from. he figured if you knew, you’d bring it up. 

he made it his mission for two whole weeks, after your first week of staying with him, and finally got his hands on some actual music for you. joel hadn’t made efforts like this in a long time, and he knew that denying the fact that he at least cared for you would mean he was being delusional. 

but he was always worried about you. you were his object of affection and he craved to find a way to get you out of his mind. he actually felt guilty for thinking about you in ways you’ve probably never been before, he felt guilty for wanting nothing but to make you feel good—however that was. 

you doubted it strongly of course, shaking the feeling off as your own delusion and insanity, but you always hoped. hoped that maybe his generosity and southern hospitality was actually him caring about you in a different way, but he was a grown man. you tried to off yourself in front of him–you were insane to think he’d even look at you as anything but a liability, he hardly looked your way as it was. 

at least you thought so.

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joel paid attention to every single thing he sees and hears. he doesn’t show it, he doesn’t acknowledge it—all he does is observe. some more than others. 

you didn’t talk to him unless he talked to you, you kept your distance like he wanted, but somehow he knew everything that was going on. he didn’t have to talk to you to know you, and that’s what he was ashamed of. he watched you. 

he was a creep, he felt like someone who was abnormal and making things weirder than they had to be. he was studying you and you didn’t even know. he picked up on what made you smile, which cassettes you listened to the most, which just so happened to be the ones he was ‘holding on to.’ and in the midst of observing you, he checked you out any time he got. 

when you weren’t looking mostly, but even sometimes when you were talking to him about something not so important. he realized that if you did see that his eyes wandered over you, you were probably gaslighting yourself into thinking he wasn’t doing exactly what you thought he was doing. he loved your body. and he loved the way you dressed your body, the way the shirts you wore always clung to your heavy breasts, how even when you dressed in baggy clothes he still wanted to ruin you like that. 

sick. you’re a sick old pervert, ya kno’ that? he knew. what joel didn’t know is why you made him feel this way, why you drove him to do the things that he does for you. why he acted feral every time you bent over, why he would storm out of the room when you got on your hands and knees to pick something you dropped up off the floor. 

but he also studied you because he wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling how you felt the night you woke up in jackson, to make sure you weren’t feeling depressed or like you didn’t want to be here anymore. just talk to her fucker. he couldn’t. he would never admit it, but he’s eavesdropped near ellie’s garage to hear conversations between the two girls. 

“ellie, i mean it, you cannot tell joel.” you hushed as you glanced towards the door, back to ellie. 

she scoffed. “like i’d tell him, lay it on me.” you noticed the irritation in her eyes when you brought up joel, asking yourself if maybe there was something that wasn’t being said. you just put a pin in it. 

“okay. one, i’m finally allowed a gun and i got my patrol route.” you cheered in a hush and joel almost pressed his ear into the door. 

ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the piece of paper. “no fucking fair. good looks, telling me bad news first. what’s two?” she joked. 

“i met my patrol partner. his name’s uh, tyler? i think. yeah,” you looked down and nodded, assuring yourself. joel made it a note to tell ellie how thin her walls were, not right now though. 

“tyler… tyler m?” joel thought of every man in this town named tyler with the letter M as his last name. instantly made a mental list of five tylers. 

“i don’t know. but he asked me for a drink. tonight, he was gonna meet me here but i told him i’d meet him there. lesson number 5, always have a way to leave anywhere you are if you need to.” you said. you figured it’d be best to teach her as much as you could, telling her things she needed to hear to survive. 

that’s how joel knew immediately what was happening when he heard your soft singing from your cracked door. you were getting ready for him. he actually hated it. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that heat in his chest, biting the tongue—it wasn’t until his face turned down into the old familiar feeling, what he recognized as jealousy. 

who was he to be jealous? for what? it was a saturday night, most people were off of work, and everyone was settling in the town’s circle to drink and watch movies. everyone but joel. he was now classified as a bitter old man, with a dark whiskey in his glass. maybe now a bitter, creepy old man as he knocks slightly on the cracked door and you invite him in. 

you were fixing the laces on your shoes, simple black converse, and his eyes made his way up from there to your face. a deep v neck shirt that looked like a second skin from how tight it was, and faded black jeans with tiny holes from being lived in that hugged the fat of your thighs. he never noticed the gold dainty necklace that sat in the middle of your chest, but it sits right between the curves of your breasts. were they always that big? he felt like a kid, ogling and asking stupid questions.  

“hellooo? joel?” you called to him as you rested your palms on the width of your thighs. he saw your lips, coated in a sheen and your hair split down the middle instead of being in a pony tail or bun. creepy old man. you’re being creepy joel!!! he shook his head. 

“headin’ to the circle?” he asked. if he were close enough you could smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“yeah i-,” you thought for a minute. joel didn’t trust the next person as much as you did. you saw his protectiveness through ellie, you felt maybe he’d feel the same for you. even if you were a bit delusional. 

“-was gonna catch a movie with ellie, most likely be back around 12.” you said as you glanced at the clock, 9:32. 

“‘s that right?” he said suggestively, like he knew something you didn’t. he did. 

“yeah. that’s right,” you stood firm, even shot him a dirty look. “why don’t you enjoy the night, joel. you got the house to yourself, ain’t that what you’ve been mopin’ around for?” you stood up and grabbed your gun to put in your waistband behind your shirt, sticking a knife in your high top converse and one in your jean pocket. 

maybe you got too defensive, but you were right in a way. he looked miserable around the house, storming in just to grab a beer and lock himself in the library or room. 

“that’s right,” he was just smug. so smug you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to slap him. 

“whatever joel,” you wanted to be right so bad. you wanted to prove to even yourself that you were right. but neither of you were buying into this act you played, and you knew it. he was making you nervous with his stare, the hard shell you had was practically ripped off of you when he grabbed your wrist before you left the room. he held you, shoulder to shoulder and looked at your face, down your neck and to your chest. 

“if you need anythin’, you let me know darlin’.” darlin’? it was so foreign to you, so alien that you didn’t even have time to process it before your mouth moved to say a small alright and taking your arm from his grip. when you did, it was cold and you could feel the print of his hand around your wrist down the stairs. 

it was so different, something that leaked off of his words when he spoke to you. and you wanted to hear more of it, explore that with him. 

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before you could psych yourself out of going through the bar’s doors, you heard someone call for your name and turned your head to the left to see tyler, walking towards you with a big grin on his face. tyler was just two years older than you, someone you met while you were in combat and patrol classes, and didn’t acknowledge until he approached you, re-introducing himself as your partner for the first two weeks. you couldn’t be cold and shoo him away, you just smiled and introduced yourself, really looking at him. 

he was not joel miller. tyler’s skin wasn’t as tan as joel’s but he wasn’t pale, and he was actually a bit lanky even under the thick coats he layered. you noticed that his chest wasn’t as broad and strong as joel’s, hell his arms were smaller than yours. he was a skinny tall thing, while you were a bit short and thick everywhere. and when he embraced you lightly at the entrance of the bar, you just felt cold. no warmth, no comfort, you felt like you’d break him. 

“hey, i was hoping you’d actually come.” he breathed in as he pulled away, still, it wasn’t feeling right. 

“why wouldn’t i?” 

“cause you’re out of my league,” he said with a seductive smile and you wanted to believe him. wanted to enjoy the night as it comes and maybe have a few drinks, talk. but your mind was on a bitter man who sat in a house all by his lonesome. 

the thing about ‘dates’ now is that small talk doesn’t happen anymore. what’s your mom like? she’s dead actually. really? mine too! it was pointless. if you ended up here, you knew that you were alone. 

it wasn’t long before you and tyler were sitting on two stools, side by side. your knees were in between his as the two of you talked, flirted, gave simple touches. you were having fun. doing what would seem normal at a bar, just enjoying the company of someone who actually liked you. 

“how come you’ve never hung out with anyone else? i never see you with anyone.” he said, his fingers tapping on your knee. 

“mmm, i’m just not for everyone.” you flirted, covering his fingers with yours. you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, but you’d like to live in it just a little longer. the touch of a man, someone who desired you even if it wasn’t how you wanted. something you started to crave from joel. 

“maybe you’re just for me then?” he suggested, and you decided to just play into it. it was kind of hard not to when you were thinking of joel, you needed to act out on it. 

“i doubt that, honey,” you said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. he smelled like tequila and grass, something not that appealing but you ignore it. you wanted something out of him tonight, because for some reason the words joel spoke to you kept ringing in your ears. if you need anything, you let me know darlin’. the words rumbled through your body and straight to your core, because if there’s anything you need he could definitely be of help. 

you didn’t know how long you stayed at this bar, teasing and touching each other until you felt the ache in your core, aching for a touch that you’ve had once before. but you didn’t give a shit about purity or virginity, you wanted the ache gone and you knew tyler was the best bet. 

“tyler,” you whispered in his ear as the bar started to empty. 

“yes, beautiful?” he answered and slid his hand up your thigh. 

“show me how good you are with your fingers, yeah?” 

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he followed you back to joel’s, hand in hand as you turned the key to the house and softly opened the door to prevent the creaking. granted, you didn’t think this through, like everything else. maybe you should’ve gone to his. you cringed a bit, walking inside. 

it was dark inside, nothing but the sizzle of a freshly put out fire. you put your fingers to your lips to shush him, taking him slowly upstairs and to your room. you couldn’t help but find yourself glancing at joel’s door, which is cracked open. 

you finally made it to your room with the lanky man groping your body and trying to slither you out of your jeans, letting him. 

“only want your fingers, okay? if not you can leave.” you established as you stood in your panties and tight shirt. 

“fuck, yeah that’s okay,” tyler himself was craving a woman’s touch, he didn’t even care if he got off. he just wanted to see you, a woman’s body, to feel you. 

“can i touch you? like anywhere?” he asked as he sat on the edge of your bed, his cock already hardened against his pants. it didn’t sound right coming from him. you wondered what it’d sound like with the texas twang you craved to hear from a certain man. 

it still made your core twinge a bit, remembering the last time you were this vulnerable. you couldn’t lie, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you fell in to the odd touch of the man desperately trying to touch you. 

“anywhere. keep your dick in your pants, i’ll touch as i go if you want me to.” you moved over to him and crawled into your bed, and he slipped in next to you as he propped himself on his elbow to look at you. 

“you’re so pretty, really.” he said, genuinely and you smiled. your stomach even fluttered a bit. it’s been a long time hearing that, hearing desire. 

“touch me, please.” 

tyler took his time, a little more than you’d liked but he was busy distracted with the way your tits pushed up to your chin, like you were suffocating. touching and teasing, his touch felt good but it still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel heartstopping. maybe you’re expecting too much. 

but he didn’t talk to you when he dipped his hand in your panties, you just heard his whimpers and panting as he rutted his hard on into the side of your fat thigh, barely focused on you. you weren’t feeling it anymore, your wetness wasn’t even directed towards him really. everything you did with him was what you wanted to do with joel. you weren’t interested anymore and it started to feel wrong, it never felt good because tyler wasn’t worried about you. just his nut, and you didn’t like that. you didn’t like to feel used. 

“okay, wait, wait—i said wait!” you said and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from your panties and moving off of the bed. 

“wait, fuck i’m sorry, i was just so, fuck i’m so sorry.” he said a bit loudly, and you swore you heard a creak in the hallway as you moved to the door. 

“it’s okay, i just, i’m not–i’m tired. i think you should go.” you said, hugging your arm as he adjusted himself in his pants and got up. 

“i’m sorry, i,-” he tried again and you waved him off. 

“it’s done and forgotten, you didn’t do anything you were just really into it. i wasn’t.” you were careful with your words, not as tough as you would be because you’re vulnerable. but he wouldn’t get far if he hurt you, you knew that. 

“i’m sorry, goodnight. can we kind of like, forget this?” he asked rubbing the back of his neck and you softly laughed. 

“forget what?” you smiled and he returned it, giving a small kiss on the cheek before he left. he was a nice man, a good kid, and he meant no harm. he didn’t need a ruthless beating or yelling, just needed to tell him it wasn’t meant to be. you couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was, how wrong it felt being tyler touching you. 

you knew who you wanted to touch you. as sweet and kind and charming tyler was, he wasn’t what you wanted. the man you wanted was across the hall from you, on the other side of the stairs. sleeping, maybe. 

you knew ellie was at a friends house doing only god knows what, so with the hope in mind that joel was asleep in his room, you trotted downstairs braless, and bottomless. you were still in the same tight shirt you left in, but now just in the pink panties that were apart of the gifts maria got you. just new/traded clothing you needed. the shirt hugged you and cut off at the dip of your curve, the fat of your tummy slightly protruding between the shirt and your panties. 

you didn’t look towards the fireplace where the sofas were, instead you grab a small cup and let faucet water pour into it, taking a drink. 

“work up a sweat?” a deep southern voice said behind you, from a distance. you jumped at the sudden break of silence and turned quickly to the sofas. 

“joel? what the fuck,” you breathed and stepped out to walk to the sofas. somehow, you completely disregarded the fact that all you had on was a shirt and panties, standing in joel miller’s living room. 

“what made you think it was a bright idea to invite a bastard in my home like that? not only that,” he said. you finally saw the light from outside shining on his face as he stood up, something glimmering in his hand. a gun. “but letting him touch all over you? that prick?” 

you had a lot to say, a lot to yell out. but the only thing to say was a snarky comment. “you know he called you the same thing.” 

which, he did. but you were too drunk on the flirting and drinks to care or to know why, even though you already knew. joel wasn’t nice to anyone but ellie. tommy and maria even think he’s an asshole, but that’s tommy’s brother and maria’s brother in law. he’s family. but there were things that you didn’t know about joel miller. things he didn’t want you to know either. 

“why do you even care? who’s touching me, i mean.” you scoff, feeling less embarrassed about your state of clothing. but being a lot more aware as he steps closer and closer to your curvy figure, putting his gun in the waistband of his sweatpants. 

he was intimidating like this. towering over you with his fists clenched, searching your face for something. you felt your heartbeat pick up as his eyes raked over you and fell on your lips. he was drunk off of you, the sight of your fat cunt only being clothed by a single piece of fabric drove him to dig his nails in his palms. the nakedness of your thighs, and the midriff showing—it was going to kill him.

“if you’re gonna fuck these town folk, make sure it ain’t in my house.” he spit, and you just rolled your eyes. you felt like you were in trouble for sneaking out, like a teenager. 

“i didn’t fuck anyone. we didn’t do anything. he wanted to, i didn’t.” you defended, feeling small now but still holding yourself tall.

joel just looked at you, not wondering if you were lying or not. he knew you weren’t, he heard it himself the minute he heard something bang against your wall. it was just you shuffling to get up, and he heard you consoling him. you weren’t satisfied. 

“why’d you lie to me? bout’ seein’ him tonight?” he asked, your head tilted up to his as he steps one step closer. your chest is almost touch his, and your breathing was getting heavier. 

“figured you wouldn’t trust him,” you said, sounding like you wanted to say something else but keeping it to yourself. 

he was watching you like you were his prey. like you were something he wanted to take and devour for himself, like you were something for his eyes only. 

“smart girl,” 

“he touch you wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask, the curiosity killing him slowly as time passes with you standing in front of him with your tight pink panties on. he looked down between the two of you and saw the hardened pebbles that were your nipples showing up through your black tight shirt, down to your tummy that was pressed against his. he liked the softness of your belly, he was practically dying to grip it himself. he wanted to grip every part of you, to palm your pussy and feel how warm you were in his grip. he even found himself hating his own mind as thought of what your pussy would look like sucking him in. 

“i, he,” you were stuttering, embarrassing yourself as his hand trailed up your arm, thinking of all the ways he could watch you take his cock for him. 

you watched him watch you. how his eyes went dark again, how there was a slight touch of possessiveness in his voice. you didn’t assume though.

“can’t find the words, hm? he wasn’t makin’ you feel good?” he asked softly, watching as you closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth, opening again to see a small grin playing on his lips, his head tilted to the side. his fingers barely left your wrist, and made their way to your fleshy hip, tapping against the bare skin. he was enjoying this. making you squirm. making you nervous. 

“fuck off, joel,” you meant it to come out a lot stronger than it did, even you thought you sounded needy. “s’ none of your damn business,” you spit, stronger this time.

and before you could even wallow in your retorts, a smile tugged very faintly at his lips. you weren’t so convincing when you were practically trying to pull him to your body with your fists buried in his sweater. he appreciated the effort though, he's never met someone with as much bite in their bark as you.

he just liked to watch you writhe for him. you wanted to whine with how eager you were for him, how mean he was being to you for no reason. you needed him.

“it’s like you’re not even tryin’, what’s the matter? do i make you nervous sweetheart?” he gleamed in his power over you, the way your eyes searched for him and your mouth parted, just for him. he wanted to ruin you in every way. ruin every man for you, show you how to truly be taken care of.

"go fuck yourself," you retorted and he actually laughed. and he laughed at you. a sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you.

“i didn’t tell you but,” he paused as he leaned into your ear, grazing his cheek against yours and smiling to himself, “you looked real pretty today, ya know that? you look even prettier like this, all flustered for me.” 

you had to be dreaming. had to have gone to sleep after tyler left, and this was your wet dream making up for it. there was no way you were this exposed to joel and he was practically pressed up against your body as he told you how pretty you looked. you couldn’t speak, your tongue was tied and joel smiled to himself as he realized he got you to shut up.

“would ya let me touch you, sweet girl? maybe you'd be nicer if someone knew how to touch you,” he asked, his fingers playing on your hip. 

you still couldn’t answer. it felt like a trap, like if you let yourself give in to his words, every guard you put up was pointless. you were frozen, and suddenly felt insanely vulnerable but his voice was so inviting, so impossible to not fall into.

“touch me where?” you asked, treading lightly. you wanted to hear it, you wanted him to tell you he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. you wanted to prove to yourself that you hadn't lost your mind yet. but you also wanted to stretch whatever this was as long as possible before you find yourself on your knees for him without even asking.

joel felt like he was out of his body. like he was watching you squirm and move under his presence from above. he was so distracted by how hard your nipples were rubbing against him that he didn’t even notice your fists balled into his shirt, trying to take him in closer. maybe it was the alcohol he drank to ignore the jealousy he felt, or maybe it was the fact that tommy came to tell joel about the boy you were seeing. how the two of you were practically on top of each other before he left, how he was touching you in public–he was angry. 

nothing was done, nothing more than joel grabbing your almost bare hip and you tugging on his shirt, but it still felt like something that was crossing a line. a line you wanted to cross.

until he got the courage to grab the hand that was buried in his sweater, taking it in his own and touching you with your hand. he was answering your question. his hand ghosted on top of yours as his eyes watched your eyes train on the sight between the two of the bodies, enjoying how soft and pink you look. you were hot and bothered, and he could get used to seeing you like this. 

“first place i’d touch you, baby,” he breathes, his lips practically against your cheek now. he was breathing you in, drinking you in, “is right here,” 

his hand guided you to cup your mound, angry that it wasn’t his hand touching you. your breath was shaky while you watched him, your eyes flickering from his moving hand to his eyes, and every time he made sure your eyes latched onto his. he wanted you to know how much he was enjoying teasing you like this, he wanted you to remember the way he looked at you while you panted against him. 

“but like this, lemme show you ‘xactly how i’d touch you sweetheart,” he was lost, drunken only on you, ignoring the world around him. “don’t think that boy would be enough for a woman like you, ain’t that right?"

he took his own hand as you were still pressed against his front, his lips now teasing the skin of the crook of your neck and starting to pull your panties away from your skin to dip his hand inside. your breathing was uneven and your soft whimpers were getting louder the more he trailed down into your underwear, and he was loving them.

the second he felt the scruff of your unshaved mound, he heard you release a shaky, sexy breath, and he grew harder against your bare abdomen. even feeling the heat of your skin on his clothed cock made him want to get on his knees and worship you.

"needy little fuckin' thing, that desperate for me huh? you gonna let me feel this pretty pussy how i want?"

he was so fucking filthy. so filthy for someone who hasn't even seen you naked, so filthy for someone who didn't even talk to you before this. it was agonizing, you were melting into his harsh words and wanted to listen to him make you feel small like this all night.

"joel, i swear," you warned as his breath hit your lips with his eyes on yours.

you had a bush, he thought to himself. he really didn’t think that would turn him on of course,  but now he pictured you standing in front of him, bottomless. how your belly would look with your curves, the way your breasts would rest at their natural position, your thighs fat and wide all for him, and the pretty fat mound waiting for him to feel and taste. worst time to think all of that of course, because it sent a flood of blood and excitement to his groin, giving him another thing to be nervous about. but god did he want to see it, see all of you laid in his bed, and tugging on the thatch of hair on your mound. he was fucked.

and god forbid you figured out that he’s been picturing you bent and folded in every way just so he could reach to the back of your cervix, if you figured out that his anger towards you is pent up sexual frustration because every time you’re in the shower, he’s thinking of the way you looked lathered in soap, waiting for him to join you. he was a sick man to think of you like this, but all of his desires and fantasies were threatening to barge in, to unleash all of his wants and needs to you. 

he was fighting himself to be a respectable man, a man who doesn’t think of women who were young enough to be his own kid in ways that were sinful. he shouldn’t be wanting to fill your throat with his cock when you smart mouth him. he was losing whoever he thought was himself, and letting heart and cock do his thinking. 

you couldn't think right, nothing was processing as you felt the heat of his hand on your cunt. you felt another wave of pleasure hit you and suddenly, you could feel your wetness pooling for him in your panties. you had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that joel actually wanted you too, even if he wanted to put you in your place for once and shut you up.

you didn't care how he wanted you. you were a bitch, but you were desperate for him.

"mmm, you're real scary, baby, threats ain't gettin' you anywhere. you have t' beg me for my fingers," he teased, rubbing the hair on your mound.

"oh fuck off, i'm not begging you for shit," you're putting up a fight with yourself, and you were winning. at leadt you thought so. even if you were letting him touch you this way, you weren't goping to beg him or give him the pleasure of watching you submit to him.

"yeah? maybe i'll jus' make ya," he grinned, his sinister smile forming while he rested his forehead on yours, his hand inside your panties as the two of you watched him tease your lips.

the second joel’s finger moves from your hairy mound to the fat lips of your cunt to spread and feel just how much you ached for him, to tease your hole so you'd be sent into a fit of desperation, the two of you heard the doorknob jiggle and a loud laugh from the outside, meaning it was ellie. joel pulled his hand and body away quickly and nodded upstairs with a hard look, giving you the hint to go before ellie saw you in your panties. 

your face expressed everything to him, you needed him. and you didn’t want to let go. he watched as you walked up the stairs, your ass practically eating up the fabric of your panties. it left nothing to the imagination and he groaned, something you swore you heard, before he fixed himself in his pants. 

ellie walked in, and you stayed at the top of the stairs out of sight to hear the lecturing. 

“are you outta your damn mind, ellie? it’s three in the mornin’,” his paternal instincts were coming out, and you smiled. 

“i was down the street. relax, i just didn’t want to stay there.” ellie defended as she slipped her shoes off. 

“did somethin’ happen? are you hurt?” he asked quickly, examining ellie to see if he saw blood or cuts anywhere. 

“jeez, no joel lay off. why are you up anyways isn’t it like six hours past your bedtime?” she scoffed, annoyed at the father figure lecturing her right now. what was he gonna tell her? 

“was waitin for your friend to come home, so i can lock up before bed,” he lied. he was lying and you knew it. you came home an hour ago, and he was still up. 

“you’re in love aren’t ya? old man,” ellie teased. her demeanor was a little more playful than she’d been this last month and he shook his head annoyed, but to you it was silent. your lips pinched into a thin line as you heard joel grunt.

“go to be ellie. now.” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, saying her good nights and going to the garage to sleep in her space. 

a part of you wanted joel to come upstairs, into your room and to do everything he wanted to do. you didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but with the touching and flirting he was doing, it seemed like he wanted you. maybe he was drunk, you could smell it on his breath! he seemed pretty sober talking to ellie. you cursed yourself as you moved quietly to your room, leaving the door cracked open just in case. 

but nothing. you heard him trudge up the stairs, and walk directly the opposite direction into his own room. you were frustrated at this point. sexually frustrated if you must say, and the ache in your core was not leaving any time soon. 

you felt embarrassed, and you felt like joel was toying with you. all of the sudden this comes up and he's trying to finger fuck you in the living room when you genuinely thought he didn't even acknowledge your mere existence. it was so confusing for you, but the only thing you knew for sure now after a few weeks of deciding is that you craved joel miller.

it was a weird feeling. only because growing up in an apocalyptic world as a teenager and a young adult meant your chances of love and relationships were slim to none, at least for you. but you met joel in times where you had given up already.

as you lied in bed, wondering if joel was asleep or thinking about you too, you felt silly. you were setting yourself up for disaster by having hope that whatever this was with joel was more than that, and not just that. you worried you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe you were taking joel's advances too seriously. what if he just wants an easy fuck? nothing serious, something for pleasure in this dark world where everyone seeks a way to alleviate their pain

you felt like maybe you were geting into your head like you always do. maybe this could be good. maybe this could be your chance to let go, be vulnreable again, let someone make you feel like a teenager again. you had your fair share of crushes when you were in the QZ, you remembered that innocent feeling of liking someone, the shyness that came with it, how nervous you got around them. and with joel, you felt that times one hundred.

the flutters in your stomach, the goosebumps on your skin when he stands too close to you. he made you feel good even without trying.

but nothing good comes from joel miller.

[voidedaurora]

I've been keeping my actual posts about this minimal for the time being because of some things behind the scenes but I've just been sent this mess of an announcement she's made in her discord and I thought I'd say something about it

(yes mel, I AM going to break this down considering you have a tendency to lie and skew things and say weird shit that gets looked over otherwise)

SS #1

First of all. What are you trying to do here, Garner pity? trying to get SYMPATHY and leniency for actions YOU made, things YOU did. Trying to garner sympathy as if you're the one that's been victimized in this whole thing, as much as you'd like to see yourself as a victim you are not!

Being called out for terrible things YOU'VE done does not make you a victim and does not give you any passes for anything.

Its understandable to be stressed, but you're putting this on yourself by trying to disprove things that simply cannot be because these are things that've actually happened, not random BS to take you down.

The easiest and best thing you could've and still can do in this situation is admit your wrongs and get off the internet to live in REAL life for a little and maybe seek some help for your mental so you cant hurt anyone else.

-

SS #2

Now this is just a bit odd? I know for a fact you do not have any "hidden answers everyone's looking for" bc most things of note have been presented (at least from me personally) and have already PROVEN these things did indeed happen?

(excluding the few things that were in vc unrecorded)

Things will never go back to normal, you cant even pin this on being a "stupid kid" anymore because this is behavior that has spanned across YEARS and YEARS now with no change, whenever people have tried to help you, push you in the right direction, directly explained something you're doing is wrong, etc. You've been mean and unwilling to hear anyone out and would rather live your life a hateful individual that gets to do whatever she wants without consequences or any real responsibility and attempt to improve yourself.

-

SS #3

From the time I knew you you did not bother to let people tell you when you were wrong and would get EXTREMELY aggressive and defensive when anyone would, you never took the time to understand when you did something wrong (outside of 1 or two instances) and would just do the same things again and again regardless of whether it was wrong or right just because you can, so ofc you wouldn't understand its wrong. you didn't care

As a minor myself (17, going on 18) I know where my boundaries are when speaking to people younger and know when and where not to cross that line BEFORE being an adult, so what's your excuse?

People don't expect you to "know everything" just the bare minimum of not being a fucking weirdo to minors, not sexually using people, and to have a little common sense.

It does not matter whether your old friend groups (WITH PEOPLE A YEAR BEHIND OR AHEAD OF YOU IN AGE) had sexual jokes normalized or not, you wouldn't go into a elementary school and start making sex jokes in front of minors irl right, because those are children, or would your humor that overrides normal common sense force you to make those jokes anyway? Seriously.

And spoiler (from what I've been told and shown by khai)

She still to this day makes sex jokes and remarks around and to her friends despite in private acknowledging she should stop acting like this. Its honestly disgusting she can allegedly have acknowledged to Khai that what she was doing is wrong, only to continue making jokes and doing things she shouldn't around her.

-

SS #4

This is Equally as weird as the rest of her response previously, I see where her intentions are but the way she's worded and executed it leaves such a bad taste in my mouth considering the nature of what she's been called out for (Being sexual around/to minors, Sexual abuse, etc)

Making the server 18+ would've been a great show of growth and intent to correct things from you if you hadn't gone "There'd still be some people underage within the server" , It's genuinely the weirdest way you could go about doing this, if you're making ANYTHING 18+ you cannot be allowing the people that are >18 to stay in, that completely defeats the purpose of upping the servers age considering 80% of the fans that'd even be joining your server and interacting are ALREADY going to be in there and verified.

This is basically like going "I'll make it 18+ but my fav minors can stay in!". If you were making your server 17+ and wanted to keep a couple 16 yr olds that are turning 17 soon in (and there was no nsfw in the server) that'd be okay! but when you're making anything 18+ that implies there's enough mature content in there to warrent it being 18+ and wouldn't be ok to keep minors in for that reason.

-

SS #5

No comment honestly, you did this to yourself and could've saved yourself and many others time and energy by admitting your wrongdoings, getting off the internet, and getting help instead of making up shit and trying to save face now that you've finally been seriously called out.

Must suck finally getting repercussions for your actions after years of being too "untouchable" for anyone to say something.

I've made my thoughts quite clear here, Do not go harass Quartelz or any of her friends. You may voice your opinions but please do so with humanity and maturity.

As much as you'd like me to "burn out" Mel, You're not gonna get what you want and I will keep fighting for people to see the real person you are and for you to get the consequences you've been owed for years now.

If you want to try and talk to me about everything that is still an option but It will not make me magically forgive or take back anything I've said or will say.

(unless there was a genuine misunderstanding with some part, but I highly doubt this since I've tried to keep everything I say as PROVABLE as possible)

[okkottsus]

I usually dont mind ppl having different interpretations of characters and relationships, but this is just an insult to my boy’s character and his connection to nagi.

Reo may have developed an interest in nagi bc of his talent (and i find the notion of him doing the same thing he hated his family for at the start very interesting btw), but since then he obviously has developed an emotional attachment, and to him, it has to be nagi. he’s met people with even more skill than him in blk but he still hasnt spared them a 1/100 of the attention he gives to his best friend.

ofc i think it was important for them to improve on their own and maybe it was premature of him to go back to devoting himself to nagi so quickly, but i truly believe its bc he understood nagi’s perspective since he “abandoned him” and his true intentions.

the difference in their perspectives is very clear even before they enter blue lock:

at that point winning the world cup was just reo’s dream but even then, to reo, the most important thing was for them to be together until the end (nagi was the one who made him promise that would be the case too !!) , while nagi was content with just going along with him bc he started caring abt him as a person

until they lost to isagi’s team. from that moment, he decided (and was right imo) that they need to do whatever they can, even if they have to take separate paths for some time, to get stronger.

and nagi didnt “lose sight of their og goal” what are they talking about?? nagi literally mentions/thinks about their dream to be the best together every chance he gets?? he even got mad at reo cause he thought his friend was the one who forgot about their dream. he thought he was taking the vital steps to make it a reality and was frustrated reo couldnt see that:

reo felt betrayed because he cared about nagi himself as much as he cared about their dream and thought that nagi used him as a stepping stone to move forward alone, when actually it would be more accurate to say that nagi views everyone except for reo as a stepping stone. (i dont blame reo for this, since even tho nagi tried to communicate that hes doing it for them, he did a terrible job of it).

but during their latest talk reo had already worked on himself and had acknowledged the fact that he was in the wrong for assuming that them being together no matter the cost was the right thing

so when nagi approached him and explained himself a little better this time (boy was shocked when he realised how reo took their separation and put in a little bit more effort lol)

reo finally understood how their desires intertwine now. how can people claim that reo sees nagi as a tool when its more of the other way around; meaning reo sees himself as a tool for making nagi the best striker in the world and he already declared that to Ego before:

and again now:

plus saying that he and nagi arent friends and they are just using each other is so out of touch with everything we’ve seen so far. reo’s devotion to nagi aside, nagi too cares for reo a lot outside of soccer. even after he left reo, he still got excited to see him and talk to him despite everything; to him it was obvious they would continue to interact no matter which team each of them was on:

and he also felt bad for hurting him and expressed the hope that he would forgive him

the only thing that i wish would happen now is for nagi to apologise to reo face to face instead of only doing it in his own thoughts, and for reo to also talk about why he was hurt. but i feel like they understood each other either way without many words, because in the end, their bond is just that strong.

they now both want to succeed more than they ever have before and have stopped being their complacent selves we met during the first selection. they are both thinking far into the future and not just within blue lock, so whether they keep moving forward together or separated from now on, it will be knowing they are working towards their shared dream.

[fluentmoviequoter]

If You Want to Leave

Requested Here!

Pairing: John Casey x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Casey tries to leave without telling you, but you walk in before he can. An argument ensues, and you invite him to leave, if that's what he really wants.

Warnings: angst, argument, accusations of lying and not loving one another, brief fluff at the end bc Casey needs love

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

A/N: I envisioned this taking place before Chuck s1 and the Intersect project, but that's up for your interpretation! I would also like to politely ask you to ignore the fact that this gif is Jayne Cobb; there aren't enough of Casey and I couldn't find one that fit the story.

“Major Casey, you need to get out of the country,” his superior says.

“You want me to run from a fight?” Casey replies. “That’s not-“

“It is not running from a fight, Major. It is preserving your life and keeping others out of danger. I’m no longer in a position to do more than recommend you get out while you still can, but if you stay, you’re endangering far more people than just yourself.”

Casey nods once before he leaves the office. He messed up; one tiny mistake by taking out the wrong enemy agent has ruined everything. As Casey drives to his small cottage miles away, where he thought everything would be safe and separated, he knows what he has to do. If he doesn’t leave now, he’ll lose everything. Again.

Casey leaves the truck running as he enters what used to be his home. This stationing was supposed to be permanent, allowing him to settle just enough as he worked through the ranks and continued fieldwork when and how he pleased. Yet, here he is, packing the last decade of his life into a duffel bag. He ignores the pictures on the mantle and the made bed that he will never sleep in again and focuses only on taking what he needs. No reminders, no evidence, and nothing that will make this situation worse than it already is. With his clothes, gun, and every piece of identification stowed in the large duffel bag, he zips it and prepares to say a goodbye that won’t be heard but will be felt.

You return home early and see Casey’s work truck in the driveway. It’s still running, so you assume he forgot something and is heading back out. The idea of Casey, a highly trained government agent, forgetting something makes you smile. On the bright side, you can see him briefly before he returns to work.

As you enter the open front door, you’re startled to see pictures and books haphazardly strewn throughout the living room. Whatever Casey forgot must have been easily misplaced you think as you walk through the hallway. Casey’s back is to you as he zips a duffel bag. The box that usually sits under his side of the bed is no longer in its place, and you have no trouble deducing what is happening. Casey didn’t forget anything except you.

“You’re leaving?” you ask.

Casey turns quickly, and his nostrils flare when he sees you. Clearly, this wasn’t part of his escape plan. 

“Were you going to tell me?”

Casey shakes his head and turns to the bag on your previously shared bed. He flips through a faded copy of Moby Dick until he finds his United States-issued passport. You walk to his side and lay your hand over his.

“How long are you leaving?”

“Forever,” Casey grunts as he pulls his hand away.

“What?” you question incredulously. “John, that’s-“

“I know.”

“You don’t know,” you argue. “You were going to leave without telling me anything! I know that you have a duty, a job that you care about more than anything, but I- this- us! We have to mean something to you, too.”

“Why do you think I’m leaving?” he snaps.

You step back and cross your arms. The wedding picture on your nightstand taunts you, and you lay it face down before you take a deep breath.

“Was this the plan all along? To marry me, have me around, lie to me, until it was time to move on?” you ask with your back to Casey.

“Of course not,” he answers roughly.

“Really? Because packing a duffel bag to leave me while I’m not here doesn’t align with the whole ‘til death do us part thing, does it, John?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. And I never will, because whether you want to admit or not, you always knew I was a temporary fixture.”

Casey huffs as he pulls the duffel bag over his shoulder. You follow him to the door but nearly run into his back when he stops.

“There is nothing worth waiting for,” you remind him. “You made sure of that.”

He turns perpendicular to you and looks at the home and the life he is abandoning. 

“Why are you leaving, Casey?” you ask softly, letting your guard down in the final moment with him. “I think I deserve the truth about that at least.”

The accusation that he has lied about anything within your relationship multiplies the emotions Casey is feeling and hiding. He’s become an expert in lying and manipulating the truth to fit what he needs it to be, but that’s work. You and your marriage were separate, the only real thing Casey had.

“You want to know why I’m leaving?” Casey asks. “Because I’m not good for you! There is a target on your back because of me!” he explains, not caring that his voice rises.

“Casey,” you begin.

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head as he turns to face you. “I will not lose you. I can leave all of this, the house, the pictures, the perfect little life, but I will not put you in a position to be taken away from me forever.”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing, Casey,” you argue gently. “If you leave, there is nothing between me and the people aiming at that target. You told me from the beginning that this could happen. But if you leave me now, you and I both know, you’re leaving me just like you’re leaving the house.”

Casey shakes his head and grunts as he drops the duffel bag beside his feet. “No,” he insists. “This is the best option.”

You rub your forehead and say, “If you want to leave, just go. I love you, Casey, but I can’t live like this. I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering when this will happen; when you will just leave me without a word and never come back. I’ve been by your side for years, supporting you and your job and everything that comes with it, but I can’t do this. The constant fear of not knowing is worse than any target someone could put on me.”

Casey’s chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply. He watches your eyes as you talk and hates that he created the fear and insecurity in them. Even if he does leave when this is over, he can’t let you think that his leaving has anything to do with how he feels for you, loves you, or the idea he doesn’t want to be with you.

“So, Casey,” you begin.

Your voice breaks as you fight to hold your tears in, and Casey closes the distance between you. He places his hands on either side of your face, his palms resting against your cheeks as his fingers slide behind your ears. As you look up at him and move forward, Casey dips his chin and kisses you. It’s not like the other kisses you’ve shared; it’s passionate, desperate, loving, and devastating at the same time. You grasp Casey’s wrists before you move your hands to his shirt and push yourself against his chest. Watching Casey leave will break you and destroy everything you’ve learned to love about yourself, him, and life. And, despite how good this kiss is and everything Casey says without speaking, it will not get you through this. Not if it’s the last one you ever get.

Casey pulls away slowly, but his hands remain on your face as he looks into your eyes. You’re breathless, pliant in his hold. He doesn’t move, but if he’s still going to leave, you can’t handle a withdrawn goodbye any better than coming home to an empty house.

“Casey?” you whisper.

“What do I do?” he asks quietly. “I messed up, and now you’re in danger no matter where I am.”

“As much as I want to, I can’t tell you what to do.”

“They’ll give me a new assignment when I get stateside.” Casey pauses and looks at the ring on your left hand. “Get in the truck.”

He pulls you into another kiss before you can ask him any questions. You understand what it’s like to be part of Casey’s world, never knowing what he’s doing or if he’ll be home. But you need to stay with Casey because you love him, and even if he did leave without a word, it wouldn’t change that.

[sillygoobermanlol]

MIGUEL X GN VILLAIN SPIDER READER CHAPTER 2: The Calm Before The Storm

This chapter is gonna be short but A LOT starts happening in the next so for this one I just wanted it to be short and sweet. Like I said I do wanna post this on A03 aswell bc thats just better tumbler is kinda just a test run lol.

everything is going great for you and Miguel.

It had been a month since the bite. Miguel indulged himself in his work, meanwhile you were still figuring out what was going on with your body. Your body had changed, you were bigger and stronger. Just a week ago a web of some sort shot out of your wrist and you now noticed the small holes that were there, you weren’t crazy you knew that now but what did this mean? You spent weeks thinking to yourself replaying everything in your head that took place the last few weeks, it did take you a while to tie it back to the spider but when you did everything made sense.

You thought about telling Miguel but would he believe you? He was always more of a logical kind of guy and would probably just call you crazy, and honestly you wouldn’t blame him this WAS crazy. How the hell does a spider manage to give you “powers”? You always thought Alchemax was weird but not weird enough to carry super spiders.

It was almost 12 am when Miguel finally came home, exhausted as always. He had started working on a project and he was staying after hours at Achemax more often, you’re pretty sure he’s even spent the night there too. You tell him to take it easy but he just dismisses you saying its “groundbreaking.” Whatever, you thought, not more groundbreaking then what was happening to you.

“Hey.” your voice echoed in the kitchen,

Miguel jumped almost dropping his microwave dinner, “Good god! you cant just sneak up on me in the dark like that!” he said fixing his glasses. You turned on the kitchen light, your light sensitivity was getting better now it just took you a while to adjust to the light. Miguel really did look tired, he must’ve noticed your concern because he sighed, “I’m okay, please just stop worrying,” he said putting the dinner in the microwave and turning it on, a soft hum filling in the quiet space until you spoke. “Miguel I get it, whatever it is you’re working on is important but is it worth killing yourself over?” you said getting a sigh out of him, “I’m not-” he cut himself off and grumbled before continuing.

“I’m not killing myself, you just have to trust me on this one. What I’m doing is going to change the world,” he said, “I know, and I’m sure of it. Just take care of yourself big guy.” you say giving him a pat on the shoulder, he smiled at you grateful that at least someone believed in him.

Another month passed, you had gotten used to your abilities for the most part. Occasionally stopping a corner store robbery here and there, your presence was made known “spider-man” is what they called you, some low quality videos of you on the web and few dozen newspaper articles. You weren’t really sure if you want to be out there yet so you kept it lowkey for a while, Miguel had been planning some kind of showcasing for his project and you supported him on this idea. He still hadn’t really told you what it was, every time you asked he dodged the question like a bullet so you can’t lie that you were excited to see what he had been working on for all this time.

You unenthusiastically mopped the bathroom floor of Alchemax, this job was absolutely insufferable. it was quiet until Miguel barged through the door talking about a million miles per hour switching from Spanish to English, “Woah Woah, okay what?” you say stopping your movements. “The showcase is this Sunday, THIS SUNDAY.” he looked excited yet panicked at the same time pacing around the small space, “That’s great! What time? I’m totally going.” you ask trying to be supportive. “8 pm, there’s just so much to do. I’ve got to prepare and-” he takes a deep breath, “Very important people are going to be there I cant mess this up.” he says. “You wont, you’re freaking awesome there’s no way they’re gonna reject you.” You smile continuing to mop,

Your words seem to calm Miguel, he drags you into a big hug one that almost lifted your feet off the ground. You chuckle pulling away, “Okay okay, don’t you have a showcase to plan? Shoo,” you wave him away but he just stands in front of you with a giddy smile on his face. “You’re really important to me you know that? I swear you’re gonna be proud of me after this.” he said softly, “I already am.” you say in response to his heartfelt words. You two smile at each other for a little while more before he leaves, your heart felt heavy of love for him you would do anything for that man.

The next few days Miguel planned intensely for the showcase he needed everything to be perfect, he even bought a nice new suit for himself. You decided to follow in his footsteps and get something nice too for the showcase as well, you picked up a beautiful red and blue suit that would look great on you it even made you more excited to attend. Everything was okay, and going well you had never felt more like yourself. Spider man was showing up more and more over time, you weren’t so scared anymore.

[haemosexuality]

about my tav, phynn (who is kind of a self insert):

phynn is a drow that was born in the underdark and raised by a lolth sworn family. after trying several times, she successfully escaped her city when she was 76. since then, she has been moving around a lot- living in areas of the underdark that are very near the surface and dont have many drows (she doesnt mind the deep gnomes and duergar), but mainly in the outskirts of surface cities, including of course Baldur's Gate. it took her almost a decade to get used to the sun

she is a thief, and a very good one. shes had odd jobs here and there but she makes most of her outcome by straight up stealing whatever she can find and then selling it. when shes in big, rich cities like Baldur's Gate, she does a looot of burglary. breaking and entering is like her favorite hobby. she also had to get very good at fighting, both bc of the whole drow thing and bc of all the criminaling

by the start of the game, shes 183 years old, having been living in and around the surface for just over 100 years. in a human au she would be like 24

PERSONALITY AND OTHER FACTS:

her morals are contradicting and alll over the fucking place. that is because i am not good at role-playing and will just do whatever the fuck but in universe is because she was raised by very hardcore lolth worshippers and then spent the next century mostly by herself and getting by by stealing. not a lot of time for things like developing a well established and stable moral code. id say shes chaotic neutral, but with a good heart?

her journey throughout the game at first made her better, she tried to be a good person, and then made her worse because that is a lot of horrible things that happened to her and all her new friends and she is this close to snapping and having a breakdown. also shes killed more people in the last like 4 months than she has in a whole century and that will for sure change a person for the worst. shes become very apathetic and just so goddamn Tired. she didnt sign up for saving the whole world she just wanted this damn tadpole out of her head so she could continue to sell stolen jewelry!!! fucks sake!!

as part of her total off the rails mental breakdown she also became a chronic kleptomaniac. she was a thief before sure but that was just like, her job for her, now its a real compulsion. her raiding everything and everyone she sees and its starting to worry the other companions. this is inspired by me going to GREAT lengths and doing everything i can to steal literally everything i see until i realized i really didnt need to be doing that i have so many shit in my inventory and like 30 thousand gold. then i started feeling bad for these fictional npcs that are not real people and are not important to the story whatsoever because everyone here is so poor i dont need to be stealing but i truly cannot stop. normal behavior

she actually misses some aspects of the underdark. she liked how pretty (and less sunny) it was, and the food. shes not lolth sword but shes not seldarine either, she just kind of doesn't care. obviously shes not a fan of drow culture, but she still gets pretty pissed when surface ppl start talking shit

she is a rogue! she also has some levels of fighter but i just got that for gameplay reasons.

shes dating karlach in denial she doesnt know if she wants to try to convince her to go to hell so she can live, or just accept her wish to let her die. this is inspired by me crying real life tears over this fucking character. also astarion is her bestie they gossip together

not much else to say about her personality shes literally just me if i was given free will to be chaotic insane and kill people

uhm when she met astarion she didnt realize he was a vampire at ALL she assumed he was an albino drow. he ran with it until she woke up to him almost biting her while she slept (canon game event). this is inspired by a comic i saw

APPEARANCE:

eyes: because she was born to a lolth sworn mother her eyes are naturally red. i also gave her cat pupils because that looks cool to me it makes sense that drows would have pupils that can better adjust to lack of/light like that i mean they live underground!! because she is me tho she cant see shit. she used to have glasses but they got lost early in the game in a battle to which she was just blind as fuck and had to be babysat by the other companions. that lasted less than a tenday (dnd week) tho because:

her right eye got Volo'd, and the glass eye volo gives us to replace the one he plucked out is Magic, and not nearsighted! she started covering her left eye with an eyepatch since, because having one eye that can see perfectly and one that cant is awful and confusing. when she doesnt wear the eyepatch, her left eye is always squinting

the glass eye has round pupils, so her pupils are different now too!

she dyes her hair different colors. with the power of Magic and Fantasy Hair Dye. tho her natural hair color is ofc white

has vampire bite scars from astarion. they have an agreement going on where he can feed off of her every few days. people are baffled that its not sexual (astarions traumatized ass included)

she bandages her chest because i cant imagine a worst curse than having to run around and fight and climb mountains with a large chest

[embersofhope-if]

Okay i wrote this a while ago bc somebody requested it but now i can't find the ask💔

anyways heres a drabble of the fight Mc and Aurel got into when they were sixteen

tw for fighting, dissociation, strangulation, and theres a needle used at the end but its not explicitly stated

wordcount: 1.9k

The rain pours down onto me as I stand waiting. What I'm waiting for, I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that I need to stand here and wait until whatever is supposed to happen happens. I see the blurred figures of both children and teachers leaving the school to go start their afternoon shifts in the factories. Even if I can’t clearly see their faces, I can feel their glares, anger, and hatred hot on my skin. It’s the only thing I can feel at the moment. It’s honestly about the only thing I’ve been able to feel since the games ended. I can’t bring myself to think too deeply about what happened, or I might start drowning in every emotion imaginable, again.

I can’t let that happen. They’ll put me on so many pills I won’t be able to tell which way is up.

So, I continue to stand, waiting in the rain, having only the heat of glares keeping me warm. A bolt of lightning hits the building across the street, followed by a loud crack of thunder. The jolt of fear suddenly clears my mind of the fog that it’s been trapped in, and I realize why I’m here.

Ash

Every day without fail, Ash and I would meet up here after school. Whether we would just talk for a couple of minutes before their shift at the factory or I was walking them home, we always met up here.

All at once, everything that I haven’t been able to feel hits me so hard I almost fall over. Every feeling forms into a single thought.

I’ve got to get out of here now.

I run, fleeing from the courtyard and everything that’s happened there. That courtyard is nothing but a painful reminder that Ash is gone, and there is nothing I can do to bring them back. With the fog lifted from my brain, I can now fully feel the pain of what's happened. My heart aches as if the games happened just yesterday, and it has left my feet unsteady as I continue to run. I have no idea where I'm running to, probably somewhere equally as painful, but as long as I’m moving away from here, I don’t really care.

I shove past several people, barely hearing their angry shouts of protest, and force my way through a set of doors. I have no idea where I am or where to go. I recognize the room, but my mind refuses to focus enough to remember the name. All I can think about is how much my chest aches and how cold my hands are. My skin feels so cold it's like I’ve never felt the Sun.

I force myself to sit down before I collapse onto the floor, trying not to make any more of a scene than I already have. Exhaustion begins to replace whatever panic is left in my body.

I need to stand up. Make my way home before someone tells Father that I’ve had some type of breakdown. Explain to him that this is nothing like that.

But it is exactly like that, isn’t it? I’m not entirely sure what counts as a breakdown, but sprinting through school grounds shoving anyone out of my way in a blind panic probably counts at least as the start of one. The worry of what Father is going to do when he finds out isn’t enough to motivate my body to move again. I’m so exhausted that all I can bring myself to do is sit here and breathe.

I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been here, but it’s long enough for me to finally realize where I’m at, the community cafeteria. I’m just thankful I didn’t barge my way into some teacher’s classroom, which means the chances of someone noticing me are significantly lower. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to stand, but I have noticed other people moving about and taking seats. These must be late-day shift workers. That means it's almost seven o’clock, and I’m supposed to be at dinner in thirty minutes. This realization finally manages to get my limbs moving again.

I’ve got to get across the city in the middle of a shift change in less than thirty minutes and then pretend that I’ve spent the last three hours in my room instead of out here trying not to lose my mind. This is going to be near impossible

I quickly stand, trying to come up with something to say to my family whenever I get back home.

Maybe I can say I went on a walk or Hope went missing and I went looking for him. Who am I kidding? Mother wouldn’t believe that for a second, and if she did, Calliope wouldn’t, and she’d have no problem with immediately calling me out on the lie.

No matter what I come up with, every excuse is worse than the last. Ultimately, I decided to just get back as fast as I could and wing it from there.

Once again, I begin shoving my way through groups of people not really caring for the looks they throw my way. I’m stopped whenever a hand grabs my collar and pulls, hard. The motion forces me to turn around, and I come face to face with Aurel Weaver. The anger in their eyes does nothing but confuse me.

I hardly know Aurel. I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to them. What could I have possibly done to make them so angry?

For a minute, we both just stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak. I take the moment to properly look at them. After the games ended, shifts at the factories began to ramp up, and Aurel ended up dropping out of school to keep up with the work they were assigned. I haven’t really seen them since then, but I can tell the work is taking a toll on them, changing them. They look about as exhausted as I feel. Their skin pale, and the bags under their eyes are worse than I've ever seen them before. But the biggest change I can see is in their eyes; beautiful hazel eyes drowning in nothing but fury and hatred, and it's all directed at me. A sharp pang runs through my chest. I may not have been best friends with Aurel, but I still considered them at the very least a friendly acquaintance. I force myself to ignore the hurt and very suddenly realize that I’ve been staring for too long and I can't afford to waste what little time I have to get home. “Sorry Aurel, I didn’t mean to run into you,” I say quickly, going to turn to leave.

I take a step away until I, once again, feel a hand grab me. Only this time, the hand is wrapped around both my collar and the chain hanging around my neck. They’re saying something to me, but all I can focus on is the chain in their hand and the fact that if they pull it’ll snap. I take a breath slightly, turning my head, forcing myself to listen to what they’re saying.

“It’s rude to not answer my questions, you know?” Aurel growls, and I can feel them getting ready to yank me back. Instead of responding, I try to move out of their grip. At the same time, they decide to pull, and I feel the chain snap.

The pendant slides down my shirt, and I watch it fall to the ground. The last precious gift that I will ever get from Ash now lays on the ground broken like it was nothing. I barely feel Aurel's presence anymore. All I can stare at is the pieces.

They grab my shoulder, tired of me apparently ignoring them, and force me to look at them. Suddenly, the nothingness I felt while looking at the broken pendant is replaced with an all-consuming rage at the sight of them standing, acting like I owe them any type of response. I glance around and notice a glass cup sitting on the table next to us.

Without a second of delay, I grab it and smash it against the side of their head. Before they manage to recover any semblance of balance, I lunge at them and knock them to the ground. One. Two. Three. I get three punches in before they get me off them. They pin me down with one hand around my throat and use the other to try and hold my hands down. I can feel their right hand around my throat, squeezing hard while I kick and scratch at them. As my vision starts to fill with black spots, I freeze and begin to realize that Aurel might just be trying to kill me.

I’m going to die on the dirty floor of the community cafeteria, and it’s nobody’s fault but mine. Broken and nothing on the ground, just like the necklace lying next to me.

I feel Aurel's grip on me loosens, and I know this is my chance to get them off me. I kick them in the side and manage to get out from under them. I throw a punch to the side of their head that knocks them into a leg of the table, hard. Disoriented and off balance, Aurel doesn’t even notice that I’m in front of them until I pin them down and begin to hit them over and over. I lose track of how many times I hit them; all I know is that they’re not fighting back anymore. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Every emotion I’ve been trying not to feel comes out in every swing. I know I’m crying, but I can’t bring myself to care. I should be ashamed for doing this for letting my anger take control, but I’m not.

There’s a crowd around us now. I can’t hear them, but I can see them; with the show me and Aurel have been putting on, it was bound to catch some attention. If there’s a crowd, then that means there must be peacekeepers on the way. I don’t care. They can drag me away and lock me up forever, and I won’t care. I feel hands trying to pull me off Aurel, but I don’t let them.

They hurt me. Why shouldn’t I hurt them? I want to hurt them. I want to hurt all of them. Everyone in the districts and Capitol. I want to hurt them all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice white uniforms surrounding me, and they begin grabbing me. They’re a lot better at getting me off Aurel than whoever was trying before. As I’m being pulled away, I notice the pendant still lying on the ground, a forget-me-not shattered into pieces.

Ash would hate me right now.

That thought takes any fight I had left, and I sag in the peacekeeper's arms. The last thing I see is my Father walking towards me as I feel a sharp prick on the back of my neck and fade into darkness.

[abcd-em]

TST: what comes to mind when you notice your comments decrease in number on your long fics?! Noticed that happening with Forever. Do you not care?! Does it get you to think that maybe fic is getting too long?! That folks have lost interest?! That you should switch thing up?! or you’re like whatever!!

I am fairly certain that you've asked me multiple variations of the same question a few times before... like here and here 😂 (if this isn't the same person then damn, what a coincidence - you guys have VERY similar voices). So uh... I guess, as per my previous email?

You can take a look back at my previous responses to see my overall thoughts on comment culture.

In terms of Forever specifically - I've said from the get-go that this is going to be a long fic, and a lot of the criticism I received when I first started the fic was that 'its slow paced and not a lot was happening' so I don't think it should come as a surprise to readers that the fic continues to be a mediative and slow read in that same vein. If it does and they've tapped out? Okay! Thank you for reading as far as you did!

Does it hurt? Sure, but I'd rather people exercise their right to the back button than to send think pieces on their lack of enjoyment.

(However I don't think this is the case bc the views are still going up at the same rate so people are reading just not commenting)

Timing also has to be taken into consideration. There are ebbs and flows as eith any website use. I know school has started back up, I PERSONALLY have been busy, life sometimes just life's.

Am I going to switch things up because of that? No.

Perhaps that's a little stubborn of me, and in other fics maybe that answer would be different, but I know the story I'm trying to tell with this fic, and it's the same story I've been telling in every weekly update since February (36 weeks just in case you're wondering how long I've been working on this - thats opening the doc every single week whether ive posted an update or not for 36 weeks straight). Everything that I've written so far, and that people have commented on, has been leading towards the ending I have in mind - I could very well wrap it up in the next chapter or two with a nice big reunion fuck between PeterMJ, and I'm sure there are people that would love that, but I don't think it's a satisfying ending to the story as a whole.

[streetkid-named-desire]

btw if you have any questions about me, "my side", what really happened and what i've been up to/thinking/feeling bc we're friends or you wanna be friends or whatever you can dm me. i'm not making any kind of like callout post or posting my truth or whatever bc i really dont care. i havent seen anything about it so have no idea what people are still harping on days later lol (and frankly i think its kinda sad/funny i live so rent free like it is a choice you are making to keep being obsessed and rehashing drama when you could just move on with your life) and the people that matter to me so far haven't unfollowed or stopped talking to me

so if you value our friendship, parasocial or otherwise, i am happy to talk and clear the air about any lies or massaging of the situation being done by other parties

but at the end of the day, i'm genuinely okay and happy. like life goes on you know lol if i cared about my reputation or standing and didnt already trust my friends i've made in fandom to know who i am as a person (except for one, that was disappointing but life goes on) i would never have spoken openly about someone with so much influence

i do hope people will reflect. i see posts complaining about seeing drama and it is a choice you make to react. you control your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. if something upsets you, stop doing it. use filters, block judiciously. do something to make your life happy. and stop worrying about random people on the internet that you dont know, arent friends with, and who arent doing anything to harm you except just existing

anyway now that i know how to refit and stuff i'm working on a full vanilla and dlc flat chest body refit mod, then i'll start going through some others i like and checking their permissions then refitting for that. i am also going to work on a more detailed guide specifically for refitting for flat chest and using the script.

i'm also going to be researching masculinization in fashion to work on further custom sculpting of various items. often the chest is still slightly raised still giving the hint of breasts so i'll try to resolve that as well as creating more masculinized shapes. i will also make a guide for that too.

i'm also going to pull a few meshes out that i know are used with replacers often, especially decal replacers, so modders can easily grab those or mod users

and if i make any brand new clothing mods, i will refit for both the flat chest body as well as for the wearable pecs with the dynamic scripts. that way, we can continue working for normalizing flat chest in general and more people can have that option. tbh if a mod is willing to work with that as well i might offer meshes for the wearable pecs too along with the script.

i want everyone using any kind of chest flattening mod to have more refits

however, i will not be doing refits for any bodies, so if you use angel or ebbbrbrbghf versions of the wearable pecs i wont refit for those. but if the wearable pecs have those as well in modders resources i'm happy to put together a guide for refitting for those

[bestworstcase]

I was exited for Vol 9 but i so afraid at how they would handle Ruby like will she actually get to vent without having her words used against ger for once???

And the answer was a big no and YET

They made it clear that whatever happens its something they cant gloss over anymore

She got to explode in such a messy way

Hurt the people she loves by going for the juggular

Throught that whole scene for me theres was just this feeling of vindication

FINALLY we're seeing the result of the oh so inspiring "if youre not performing at your absolute best then..." she got from Ozpin

The way she basically took a hammer to the pedestal herself is still just so chefs kiss

Ps i know Neo wants her absolutely fucking dead. But i feel with all the narrative destroying (affectionate) going kn the Ruby and Neo would get along so well now that Ruby isnt masking brainworks have activated

hgfsg YEAH!

i only got into rwby like… a bit less than a year and a half ago, went into it mostly blind (<- i knew the fandom was SUPER ship heavy, a very basic summary of who cinder was, and “this is salem, you would love her” lmao) and got as far as 1.4 before i was like

—except at that point i was being facetious bc rwby really does a fantastic job of initially masquerading as your bog standard ‘plucky kids save the world’ fantasy story at first (<- & stories like that are fun! i just tend to read them with tongue in cheek bc they do make me very conscious of my own suspension of disbelief). i remember hitting 1.10 for the first time and going 😬 and then feeling increasingly like, ‘…hold up.’ through V2-3 and by the time i reached V4 i was like. okay this is a deconstruction let’s GO! but figured the salem side of things would continue to be played straight (bc it always is) until lost fable cold-clocked me. and then i became Deranged.

so during the gap in between finishing V8 and V9 starting, there… honestly there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that ruby would be having, not just an emotional breakdown but a wholesale crisis of identity and reckoning with the huntsman system itself. bc i think watching the whole show V1-8 in one go, while having very little in the way of preconceived notions about what the story would be, really made the incremental progression towards what’s going on in V9 a lot more visible. (<- i also rewatched it like four times in that time and kept noticing *more* of how well everything fits together. genuinely this is a really well-constructed story. so i have a lot of trust in the, like, intentionality of the narrative, that it’s going to follow through.)

but it’s been just. so so thrilling to SEE it actually, really happen. the narrative crescendo. ruby finally detonating her pedestal bc she can’t take it anymore and she’s a human fucking being. GOD. it’s so good.

also as far as neo goes, yeah i’d agree. for as different as they are they do have a lot of emotional similarity—ruby cornered on the huntress pedestal, neo both literally and figuratively silenced and abused bc she wasn’t the perfect daughter her parents wanted, there’s a very symmetrical experience here of cracking under the strain of a dehumanizing ideal. and i don’t think ruby cares about neo enough to have this bloody rampage of revenge against her that most of the fandom seems to be anticipating. the personal animosity isn’t reciprocal. as far as ruby is concerned neo is just a jerk whom her real enemies (cinder, salem) used as a pawn.

+ i think a bloody rampage at this point in the would be extremely tonally and thematically dissonant. when has this story ever reveled in violence? and ruby is at a point rn where she’s having severe trauma responses and shutting down every time there’s a fight. (she grabs for her weapon when the jabberwalker shows up, but then freezes—& in 9.7 it’s shown that she’s freezing bc she’s having panic attacks. like we see what was happening in her head in 9.1 & 9.5 while she watched wby engage the jabberwalker.)

like rwby has never been about stomping the bad guys into the curb. it’s a story about healing and compassion and escape from systems that enforce and necessitate violence. rip to all the bloodthirsty fans but that’s just not what the show is about.

[jazz-kitty]

For ask thing - 6, 10 (i think like i have an idea) and 13?

ended up being long

6. least favorite ship(s)

i had beef with melivenam [venelia? (menam? {something else?})] a while ago but i think it's chill now. cute even. adorkable perhaps. and i think talon & florin are interesting enough as Brothers In Arms as opposed to dating. but even that is loose; i just don't think they'd ever call each other the word boyfriend and at the end of the day don't actually care if people want them making out. and that's about the extent of it i think?

i don't really mind any of the ships i've seen; it's a small fandom and the amount of people that mention ships is even smaller. i'm chill with most of em. i'll draw like 80% of them. i see the vision and respect it even if i do not follow it

10. favorite villain / antagonist

smiles. You know. besides flora though who is the default answer because she is the best character ever. i like texen a lot. my friends have made several pieces of artwork with religious allegories with texen because it has been a joke for multiple years. i knew texen before i so much as thought about playing a pokemon fangame. texen was the first fangame character i ever drew. my friend made an entire reborn texture pack just for texen

and horrifically dedicated bit aside, i do think he's funny & enjoy seeing him on screen. don't diss the do

13. any random theories

this is already getting long as shit so im not explaining any of them #sorry. also because if i think about any of these for too long they fall apart:

eizen is the fourth of whatever eden clear & kieran have going on [chess piece thingies implied there was a fourth bitch and he's weird. idk. theyre in chess club together idk], madame x is the 2nd interceptor thats mentioned at the... interceptor computer thing... in like zeight? i think it was called that?, puppet master is risa and just uses he/him pronouns on the weekend (but she has a job so she doesn't really care about that right now {or rune but its more boring to think its rune just bc she's been off screen and mysterious. she's just dead or something bro #GiveItUp [< i am aware it is probably rune]}), nymiera is one million year old, vitus is one million year old and fumbled nymiera so bad that the plot of rejuvenation happened, whatever the gang in sashilla [ren, erin, venam, melia, you, aelita, other people im forgetting] is was wished for by maria and is why they were all uplled together & maybe the cause of intereceptors entirely, dr isha died however many years ago under a different name and stole the body, brain, organs, or something else that he definitely shouldn't steal to continue "living",

and the evil gang cool squad is the 6 protagonist kids who gave away their bodies to adrest's mom whatever her name is to stop storm 9. they can't do it themselves because they're just a bunch of teenagers, which is why they get uhh. me. hi. to fix the world using their image, while they get to watch Yay! im not sure why anything is specifically LIKE that, but im pretty sure that's whats happening. + adrest is here too because Mom said you have to bring me along if you wanna hang out with your friends :'(

[horizon-verizon]

Rhaenyra got usurped because like a classic princeling she just sat and waited for what’s owed to her to be given to her with no complaints or arguments, without putting in any effort of building connections and showing herself as responsible and capable as a ruler. She was handed a bad hand, true, and Aegon II was much like her in his lack of much effort, tact and humility, and he DID have it easier just because he was born a man. But Rhaenyra did NOT help the matter with her idiotic decisions. At the end of the day, she was just as cruel and horrible as her brother.

*EDIT (5/31/24): DISCLAIMER

Rhaenyra suffers from really bad sexist writing on GRRM's, not just the maesters', part and it undermines his own point.* And no, she doesn't need to be necessarily "moral" like Dany to be a deserving ruler.

The point of her story was to highlight how no matter how good or evil or morally ambiguous or competent a person you are--if you are female, you are subject to losing a power men are just granted, and violently punished for it. And this is inherently wrong. Rhaenyra chose to go to war rather than give up. This is valuable. Visenya was not thinking "for the realm" or for the benefit of smallfolk or outside of her family, yet she as so many fans bc she was not passive or restricted by "madness". She has less sexist writing.

I never claimed her to be a morally good person or to be morally equal to Dany. This is not Rhaenyra's role. Yes, she--unlike Nettles--shows how wit and compassion does "save" not only the compassionate leader, but those they are responsible for. She both shows how patriarchal violence doesn't care if you are Saint Mary AND how it is only by wit and genuine compassion that you may relieve yourself, as a woman, from falling into that trap.

Rhaenyra's compelled to fall back on her class as most women like Cersei and Alicent do against the sexism; it comes with consequences but it also doesn't mean we ignore the sexism just as we don't ignore/discredit racism if a black man/woman were to be homophobic or sexist themselves.

BACK TO THE ASK

I really, really hope this is about the original story and not HotD. I'm going to treat it that way and any ask that doesn't specify or give very good clues this way. I have multiple posts about why Rhaenyra goes to Dragonstone, or just her in Dragonstone.

*This POST focuses more on whether I think she should have continued to rule after what happens with Nettles*

This POST gets into women-being-leaders both how real-life contemporaries looked at female leadership, how modern history writers regarded those contemporaries and their own conclusion, and real-life women with autonomous rank/governing power

These posts go into GRRM's writing of Rhaenyra as well as other notes about her leadership: POST #1, POST #2, POST #3, POST #4, POST #5, POST #6, POST #7, POST #8--esp Section B, C, & D (all address Rhaenyra's rulership and has more quotes supporting what I will say below)

This other POST from way back has me talking about what Rhaenyra could have done BUT in the current post, I will point out to you how you, anon, decided to define Rhaenyra's culpability (section D).

But because I am not tired and for the sake of cohesion...

A.

Viserys was the one to order Rhaenyra to stay in Dragonstone for an undisclosed amount of time after the Vhagar claim/Aemond-eye incident. Quote "Heirs of the Dragon -- A Question of Succession":

I imagine that Rhaenyra continued to stay and used Viserys' order because Dragonstone had become her place.

B.

What do you think Rhaenyra was doing at Dragonstone, exactly? You understand that Dragonstone is the seat of the heir to the throne, the place they have domestic and lordship rights over, the place where they would go with whatever families they have to rule over its surrounding peoples? So no, Rhaenyra didn't do "nothing", she ruled Dragonstone and took care of its businesses as other lords and ladies do their own households and vassalages.

Rhaenyra didn't just go to Dragonstone to escape Alicent's undermining her and targeting her kids, though that is a large reason why. Only a person who refuses to give her or a character they decided to dislike forever wouldn't give her the grace of believing that she herself figured that going to Dragonstone was also good for her to actually learn to be a ruler, have others refer to her (instead of Viserys) for most major decisions in her domains, and have that Alicent/green block removed from her performing said governance. Not only did Alicent outrank her as Queen Consort, Alicent, again, has been plotting against her since she was a child of 10 and gathering/having followers in court even before the 111 tourney where Rhaenyra comes out in red and black (the renaming of the respective factions). Those courtiers also would have not just tittered at Rhaenyra, ignored or make subtle jokes and comments at her expense for Viserys to not understand or hear--since she was a child of 10--they also could serve to survey Rhaenyra's movements or such to report to Alicent for favors (not as real spies, but watching her nevertheless). Watch any good court intrigue drama, and you should know what I mean if you can't paint a picture or imagine what court society would be like.

Now, you still might protest and say to me, "Fire and Blood is an unreliable narrative, how do you know all of this is true?!"

This shows two things:

you didn't bother to click the first link to the post with the quotes I wrote way above. In there, I gave dates as well, to track what the text is telling us about the development of the relationship between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and what happened after Alicent birthed Aegon. You can still come to strong conclusions in some parts of the narrative, especially using context and how it chooses to relate the information

you're being hypocritical: the narrative is unreliable...so you, who have formed a strong conclusion about Rhaenyra's character versus Aegon, didn't come to that conclusion using the same text or reading the book? somehow the way I or others who disagree with you are wrong...despite all of us getting our ideas from the same sources? I however, am presenting quotes and being specific, bringing the sociopolitical context and history to show you and others why I think the way I think

C.

This POST goes into the Shepherd's role in the final riots

Maelor's death is not on Rhaenyra, as she never mistreated him or even did what Maegor did to Viserys (Aenys I and Alyssa Velaryon's son/Maegor's nephew). Maelor was safer in the Red Keep than he was out of it, but Larys Strong's attempt to get him out and remove Rhaenyra's advantage over the greens.

It is after the Tumbleton Sackings and the Two Betrayers PLUS Corlys enabling Addam to flee that we have the Shepherd show up:

We know that Larys was also likely responsible for most of the common-born malice against Rhaenyra before the Shepherd came into the scene, even with Mushroom being the one to bring this up.

he was the master of whispers for part of Viserys' reign and Aegon's stint before her capturing KL's (he knows how to use public perception and human psychology as well as was able to discover and use information)

he was the one who enabled Aegon to escape

Larys almost immediately comes out of whatever hole he was hiding in after she died

Quote #1:

Quote #2:

When one is in the middle of a war or the immediate aftermath of one, there's always going to be criticism of their rule from the fear of lack of food, shelter, ability to perform commerce (commoners), or the compensation of some political privileges and restoration of lands (nobles). People of every class even looked at the young Jaehaerys I askance after Maegor's cruelty and Jaehaerys' age--if Jaehaerys would even be able to address their needs or grow into a capable ruler.

D.

You: "Aegon II was much like her in his lack of much effort, tact and humility"

1)

Even if we stayed with your "admittance", if Rhaenyra = Aegon in bad leadership, why do you harangue Rhaenyra more than Aegon? Because you think that the enthusiasm and/or sympathy for her is unjustified?

I already addressed how Rhaenyra actually did more than Aegon ever did in her place at Dragonstone. Other than that, did you forget that Viserys had her sit at council meetings when she was his--and only his--cupbearer? Since she was 8 years old?

At eight, the princess was placed into service as a cupbearer…but for her own father, the king. At table, at tourney, and at court, King Viserys thereafter was seldom seen without his daughter by his side. ("A Question of Succession")

No, this is not comprehensive training, education, or preparation as Jaehaerys I would have had for his two eldest sons, but Viserys is at least putting in that effort. More than he had for Aegon...because he never wanted Aegon to rule. Ever. And her sitting in and being present while the councilmen speak of their plans and concerns lets her be familiar with the priorities of those people as well as the perspectives of the nobles and commoners she anticipated ruling. She had ears.

Also, you acknowledge that Aegon didn't do jack before getting crowned...but you totally ignore how he:

sexually assaulted many servant girls (do not try to minimize the "fondling", even if you do not believe he raped others. Fondling servant girls because you're bored still shows you do not care about others' emotions or boundaries, that you feel entitled to their bodies)

tried to imprison his council members when they disagreed with him, how he dismissed Otto and made Criston Cole his Hand

decided that going into battle on dragonback (instead of just Aemond-Vhagar) was a good idea and almost got killed for it

decided that threatening the granddaughter of a man who gave him sound advice of NOT antagonizing remnant opposers further was a good idea

almost mutilated his nephew to put off said opposers

How does any of this in any way compare to any of Rhaenyra's actions--or lack thereof--that usually come up when criticizing her? The ones I seriously criticize her for the most are Rosby and Stokeworth and how she interpreted Daemonand Nettles' relationship, and how she wanted to handle Nettles. In the second link I gave way above, I list out what I think she could have done to establish herself more against Alicent even from Dragonstone, but this has more to do with strategy than morality, which are NOT the same! Meanwhile, it seems you tried to make it that way with how you pushed forward that last sentence after all your problems with her "refusing" to socialize herself amongst the nobles, etc. Why do you think Rhaenyra is in any way "equal" to Aegon's actual evil character? Did she rape or fondle people? Did she punish Corlys for saying that she should have been the one for not going to confront the green army at Rook's Rest? Why does he have to be "better" than a person who is objectively inferior to most people?

No, it is specifically when she is BETRAYED by those she gave power to, after she loses children in violent, preventable conflicts that Rhaenyra begins to unravel and her paranoia grows. Aegon went crazy from the jump.

Aside from you ignoring how terrible and worse of a general human being Aegon is, he was also much less worthy to be a potential leader who went out of his way to be an actual menace to lowborn people, as well as his own Faith/highborn council members. He does not seek to build connections and rather did all he could do to destroy any well-wishing or favor for himself once he came more into the forefront of the story. He showed absolutely no desire or concern about what he could do with the power he took for other human beings' quality of life or personal satisfaction.

Where is the concern for how Aegon should and how he does/does use "tact", or concern for how he refuses to have "humility"? Do you realize that the lack of concern for him and his actions in themselves results in reaffirming his male privilege to just inherit his maleness alone? Because it makes any and all of Rhaenyra's actual or hypothetical actions meaningless in the face of how little he actually has to do to be considered "capable"?

2)

You: "without putting in any effort of building connections and showing herself as responsible and capable as a ruler."

I find it interesting that you seem to acknowledge that Rhaenyra should be doing more than Aegon, especially to ingratiate herself with other nobles or assure them that she is a good ruler AND allow that Aegon to do nothing but be male for those same nobles (who you have simultaneously lumped together into this Aegon-preferring mass). Why should Rhaenyra have to put in more effort to even be considered "responsible" or "capable" when Aegon is even less so AND historically the Westerosi lords and ladies all already have this idea that female leadership is inherently less favorable than male leadership, that women are simply less trustworthy? If we are talking about Rhaenyra before she moves to Dragonstone, before years pass with her as the official heir with everyone getting used to their being said future Queen, and hypothetically Aegon actually put in the smallest bit of effort, these lords and ladies would prefer him even if he just visited a few households. If Rhaenyra put in the exact same amount of effort, they would likely suggest or hint at Viserys to put Aegon forward BECAUSE HE IS MALE AND NOT BECAUSE HE ACTUALLY SHOWS TO BE A GOOD RULER.

It seems you fooled yourself into thinking that either you or some of these people are actually looking for "capability" or "responsibility" from Rhaenyra. Leadership as a concept is masculine to these people, similar to how real-life contemporaries of European territories saw female leadership.

This is a quote from an essay talking about how contemporaries saw women in autonomous power:

In medieval times a woman could not bear arms; therefore a woman could not take on a role which, even symbolically, required her to carry arms. In medieval times a woman who took on an overt military role was an aberration. Lyon, A. (2006). "The place of women in European royal succession in the middle ages."

For some people in-text and those reading the book, she will never be enough. Should she forever ingratiate herself once she comes across this block, or continue on and use her dragons? Would you say the same for Aegon V and his laws that enhanced the lives of the smallfolk by whittling down on ancient aristocratic rights & privileges? What about Jaehaerys and his marrying Alysanne despite sibling marriage being forbidden and reviled in the Faith (and most of Westeros being of the Faith except the North and the Ironborn)?

What you are really looking for is live "proof" that she--and women in general--her womanhood can never conform to that concept of leadership that Aegon can easily adopt even just by doing nothing.

3)

You: "Rhaenyra got usurped because like a classic princeling she just sat and waited for what’s owed to her to be given to her with no complaints or arguments".

If Aegon is a "classic princeling", then do you have the same disgust for every other prince (male princeling) in the whole of Targ history who expects to be king or at least one heir's heir?

Already go into how Aegon doesn't need to do much as a prince. This focus on Rhaenyra not having some sort of aristocratic feeling of entitlement is crazy. Yes, she expected others to fall in line with Viserys' wishes...because he is King and she is the official heir.

If you try to argue that a monarch or any leader must take into consideration the perceptions, traditions, and mindsets of those they rule to make their subjects more amenable to their rule--thus you have more confidence in ruling and your position is more secure--you also have to acknowledge three things about the Westerosi feudalism and the 1000s old-traditions & ideologies toward gender roles and succession:

the lord/lady's chosen heir is considered the one with the strongest claim/expected to rule next

the eldest is first up in the succession and is the primary/first claimant (royal or noble)

as I said, these people live with the overarching idea that men make better rulers because they comparatively were more entrusted with power and authority over others

Even with the anxiety around illegitimate children, there are other possible claimants, this one element of feudal succession in Westeros remains true. Visery had the privilege of naming a child his heir, and she happened to be both his eldest and female. And there have been ladies/queens in pre-Targ history that ruled in their own right. Lady Jeyne Arryn is not modern exception to a modern moment in Westerosi history.

The lords and ladies of Westeros did not have any excuse to doubt Rhaenyra even with:

the Queen Dowager Rhaena passed over for Jaehaerys and her other brother Aegon (who was also her husband)

the Council of 101 setting that precedent of male primogeniture (very important link)

Jaehaerys I being one of the better Targ kings of Westeros (Alysanne is not only described as equal in "intelligence" to any man--again that male=better and men have intelligence mentality--would have been even better, as it is she and Septon Barth who put the ideas or presented some of the problems Jaehaerys reformed -> but because she was younger than him; the lords' immediate desire of a claimant to finally rally against Maegor for was specifically for a male heir; and she became Queen Consort instead of Queen Regnant when Jaehaerys subsumed her claim by marrying her, she could not rule in her own right)

Therefore, I must reiterate how their only gripe was that she was female and not because she was legitimately worse than Aegon as a candidate. Which she wasn't.

4)

You: "But Rhaenyra did NOT help the matter with her idiotic decisions. At the end of the day, she was just as cruel and horrible as her brother."

I already spoke about her decisions regarding Stokeworth and Rosaby, Nettles, the rioting's origins, and the greens taking the gold in the treasury that leads to Rhaenyra being unable to pay for most needs for the KLers. If not in this post, in the ones I linked at the very top of this post.

Quote -- "Rhaenyra Triumphant":

Another hint at Aegon's and the greens' lack of care for non-noble or noble subjects that you somehow designated only to Rhaenyra...

I always find it hilarious when the phrase "at the end of the day" precedes a sentence that has little to do with the preceding ideas the person presented. In the text of your ask, Rhaenyra's cruelty and "horribleness" had nothing to do with your past claims of her being "idiotic" or spoiled. It came out of left field, and it is as if you're trying to smush all of the reasons for your dislike towards her into one without losing space, or you're trying to throw that last bit in there for extra emphasis, not knowing how to really create emphasis. Like a misinformed child who just remembered their last complaint.

*EDIT* (8/21/23):

THIS is a great post by @mononijikayu about medieval queens, female rulers, the history of how women in leadership positions were made and seen as threats to the very structure of social "order", and contextualizing Rhaenyra thru Empress Matilda. I didn't even know about Matilda's husband being comparable to Rhaneyra's Daemon! PLZ READ!!!!

Excerpt:

just as much, along with these fictitious portrayals, more lies are depicted. these women are considered vixens that cause havoc to men by shifting them into desires and danger. through the written word, we see how women are cast in roles of villains in men’s lives. it is because by their conclusive thoughts, women are the only creatures that are able to turn ‘good honorable men’ into despicable creatures who do shameful, deplorable acts for the sake of women’s pleasures.  it is within this narrative that ancient chroniclers declare that women were in fact the doom of men. if they were not able to control the dangers posed by the wiles of women, then the foundations of the mighty society they had built would be up in flames.  [...] as i mentioned, these factors of community are written down and preserved. and with that, the example of the ancients were the foundations by which medieval society built itself. the same concepts continued to cause the same issue within society and that was the exclusion of women from participating in the bigger picture of community and state, much so with governing states in their own right—without judgment or disapproval. 

[souwrrr]

also!!!!! im super duper intrigued by tartaglias whole story its actually really interesting i wish he got more screen time in chapter iv 🙁🙁 i saw this REALY good animatic about his experience in the abyss and stuff with the fatui abd all the awful stuff hes been through !!! it was genuinely so cool but its also kinda what brought me back into this game and i am not happy abt it

i kinda wonder abt childes opinions on all of the other harbingers as well as his battle hunger?? he realllyy idolizes getting stronger and fighting everything and everyone he can and its definitely bc of skirk and what had happened in the abyss that mustve been hell for him

i also wonder what he would do if teucer and tonia found out about all the people he has hurt??? ofc he has done SO much to help them and keep them safe and ig if traveler can overlook it so can they but i do wanna see a genuine reaction from them.... i also want to see their reaction to the damage tartaglias delusion has done to him!! considering he went back to ice kingdom or whatever after his fight with that whale, wouldnt they have seen him in his weakened state ?? honestly hes prob really good at hiding it as a means to not scare his siblings since he cares for them so much. i wonder why childe continues using his delusion despite its danger? like he even gave traveler his vision before trying to pick a fight with clorinde but he kept his delusion? i mean i get that the vision was malfuctioning but the delusions is really. Bad. i wonder if he thinks its worth it because it makes him so much more powerful?

okay back to opinions on other fatui... scara doesnt seem to respect him all that much? idk about the knave their voice overs about each other are interesting but theyve interacted pretty positively and even trash talked other fstui members LOL since its pretty obvious thry dont trust each other that much i guess they just have to pretend to like each other but id like to think they get along in unique ways.... but scara said that they all use each other for benefit so he kind of admitted it wasnt so good. i remember the first impression players had of him was that he was super strong and important and stuff (not that he isnt!!!!!!) but he is still the eleventh harbinger .... so i guess thats why hes looked down on so much and seen as reckless (but thats also just bc he is.....) i am glad that we still get more interactions w him but lowkey i think he is going to die soon and i seriously do not like that he 😭😭😭😭 hes a character i genuinely have come to like!! at least 4 now

i wish i paid more attention to him earlier on in the game bc i would always just get pissed off everytime he said anything bc i likd many at the time that he was an annoying ed sheeran water guy and i am so embarrassed i thought that for SO LONG i think i was annoyed bc everyone had a crush on him or at least a few people i didnt like being obsessed with him and not even his story just how he looks brah like come ONNNN i might have more thoughts in the future but these are a few for neow

[royal-they]

hi so i kinda happened to fall in love with your art.....and i wanted to ask a few things!!! (if its ok!)

uhmm first of all how long did it take you to get that art style and perfection it etc etc?

also do you have any tips for anatomy? not big complex full body anatomy, just like...idrk honestly, some tips related to anatomy or hands or just the body that helped/help you?

and uh yeah if you just have any general tips on whatever to improve my art/art style i'll take litterally anything 😭

again, i love your art, i love what you make! keep doing what you do, you're awesome!!!! sending love and support <3

ah!! tysm <333!! thats so cool to hear!!!!!!!!!/gen

ive been drawing forever honestly. i've always been really into it. im fifteen so thatd be like 12 years. and obviously i wasnt always studying it super seriously or anything. idk. my art isnt perfect by any means. i just dont really post the shitty pieces lmao. i struggle with sm stuff and will be continuing to study probably till the day i cant hold a pencil anymore lol. (i draw too much, my hand hurts ;w;) its a never ending process and honestly thats why i love it sm.

as for anatomy i think the main thing to keep in mind is that anatomy and just drawing people in general is really hard. i heard this in this old video about how pixar used to do 3d animation is that the reason they didnt do animations of humans for so long is because we ourselves have very specefic ideas of what a human looks like. i think this also applies to art. which is a really long way of saying, trust the process.

i use photos personally! you can find a lot on pinterest but there are a couple things id keep in mind when it comes to photos people edit their bodies sometimes so their proportions so be careful, it will defeat the purpose of the study if the bodies inaccurate.

idk here are some that might be good for starting off. dancers and people like that are super helpful. remember to not to focus too much on the lines but more copying down the shapes,

for hands i would just look at your own hands and try to capture them quickly. i say quickly mainly bc i shake a lot lmao, maybe youre different. or you could just be smart and take a picture of your hand but im very lazy and dont like getting up to grab my phone.

for art style id just save stuff that inspire you. could be animations, comics, album covers, cool photos, just stuff that gives you like vibes. literally ANYTHING.

like, omg this is making me think of a cool idea rn!! save it! even if you cant execute it now you can always execute it in the future when your skills are more developed :)

style studies are also helpful! try copying art you like, seeing different peoples techniques however some things to keep in mind with this are

you might accidently copy down an artists mistakes or bad habits without realizing it so try to have some variety in your artists

dont post the art. some people are okay with tracing but the vast majority of artists dont like it and it makes them uncomfortable. so id just like keep it in your sketchbook or whatever :) better safe than sorry.

anyway ah this is so longgggg! sry im so bad at being concise lol. theres probably a lot of youtube videos that could help you with this stuff if you want more explanation. the channel ive been watching a lot in since this summer is sketches of shay. she makes a variety of stuff but her art studies and resources are also very helpful :)

Sketches of Shay - YouTube