#listen I REALLY want him to have a redemption arc

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768160196490117120/need-to-know-if-sammy-ever-finds-out-about-what

lowkey want sammy to go off and kevin and break up with him and make sure he deletes the video

part 4! keep in mind that in the other wonder years fics + the fics before will and samy get together that samy genuinely doesn’t know how she feel and doesn’t really figure it out until her and will go to her senior prom together — just to clear up if there’s any confusion about that!

i also totally made this way too long at 2.3k words OOPS but enjoy!! lowkey also gave kevin a small redemption arc bc it just kind of came out as i was writing lmao

au masterlist | previous part

the things will told samy replayed in her mind on a loop like a broken record. she tossed and turned all night thinking about how kevin literally punched one of her best friends all because will tried standing up for her when kevin's friends started saying shitty things. she had an idea of what was being said because she's heard it a few times before in passing and rumors circulating around the school. usually, those things would just roll off her back, mainly because her brothers taught her to not let that type of thing mess with you too much. 

and that's what samy did. she always thought tyler was a gross person anyway because of how he was always trying to hook up with a new girl each weekend. the thing that was bugging samy the most was kevin and will getting into a fight over her. their relationship had been a bit tense the past month. kevin kept saying things and samy kept trying to ignore him and denying all of it, but now she wasn't so sure anymore after finding out him and will fought about the one thing that's been making her and kevin's relationship so strained. 

"bye guys!" samy exclaimed as she walked the guys out. all of them plus marcie and kevin just finished their semi-bi-weekly friday moving night. it was kevin's first time being invited after him and samy had been talking for awhile. she was excited for him to start bonding with the people she was so close with. 

once everyone was out of sight, samy trailed back into the living room where kevin was. the boy smiled a bit, opening his arm up as samy sat back down next to him. the warmth of the blankets returned after standing in the doorway for so long. 

"so, what did you think?" she asked nervous but excitedly. 

"they were cool," kevin nodded. 

"i think they liked you, too. hopefully we can all hang out again soon, or you can come with me to some of their games," the youngest hughes grinned as she squeezed kevin's arm a bit tighter. 

"yeah, for sure. you know, i had no idea you and will grew up together," the boy hummed, his tone a bit too light to pick up on any envy yet. 

"oh, yeah. we go way back. i've known will since we were babies. he's one of my best friends now," samy grinned and she missed the way kevin's jaw clenched listening to her say that. 

"yeah, you two are really close," this time the envy did slip out through his tone. samy caught wind of it and snapped her gaze in his direction. 

"what? are you jealous or something?" she laughed a bit, tugging on his arm and still trying to find amusement in it. 

"should i be?" his green eyes pierced into her skin and samy slowly understood he was being serious. she dropped his arm. 

"no? we've been best friends our whole lives. i've never even seen him that way," the soccer player couldn't even begin to think of will as something other than a friend and she was confused on where this idea was coming from. 

"you better tell him and everyone else that," kevin muttered. 

"oh, come on, kev. our friends have been teasing us about this since they met us. it's just a joke. we've never even done anything. he's like a brother to me," samy continued laughing in hopes to ease up some of the tension building. although, she did fail to mention how her and will kissed in her bathroom back in april and how something in her hadn't been the same since. 

"i'm just saying, hughes. guys can tell and guys can feel when there's other feelings going on," with that, kevin looked at his phone and stood up. "i gotta get going anyway. mom wants me back home." 

samy didn't have anything else to say. the thoughts in her mind were confusing her along with her and will's kiss from april and then again at the beginning of the school year. those were all just for fun though, right? she made it clear she was joking and will did too. it wasn't even serious. 

"see you later," kevin mumbled before leaving out of the same door everyone else left from ten minutes ago. 

since then, samy and kevin kept getting in little tiffs about what was going on between her and will. something would happen that would set the brunette off and he'd bring it up after the fact. samy would just deny it all and tell him he was overthinking it—because it was true. right? there was nothing going on between her and will. 

there never would be. 

but then there was homecoming. the night samy and kevin went public with their new relationship and the night samy started wondering if things really were changing. 

she kept noticing the way will took every chance he got to look at her. his eyes were quite literally glued to her and it sent a funny, but good feeling through samy's chest. she kind of liked the way he was looking at her. and then when the guys jumped in for a few photos, she felt the tight grip will had on her waist and how close he was to her and she also saw the way kevin looked like he wanted to snap will's head off from where he stood off to the side. 

and that's when samy started wondering if there was something more there and maybe kevin was right. 

but he couldn't be. she didn't like will. he didn't like her. they were friends. nothing more, nothing less. 

ryan mentioned something to her that night after she got back. they didn't really talk about it, but he hinted something and she understood what he was trying to say. still though, samy chose to firmly believe that there was nothing going on between her and will. 

the youngest hughes was at kevin's house the next day. she knocked a good three times on his front door and then crossed her arms waiting for him to come out. there were heavy footsteps before the door swung open. kevin paused in the entryway, surprised to see samy on his porch.

"oh, hey. i didn't know you were coming over," he smiled a bit, but his smile disappeared when she didn't reciprocate it. 

"we need to talk."

kevin glanced around like there were other people around, but when he only saw samy, he slowly shut his door and stepped onto the porch with her. 

"okay," the two sat down on the bench his mom had outside. samy knew kevin probably had an idea about what she was gonna say, so she decided to just rip the bandaid off and stop beating around the bush.

"i know you punched will the other night at the game," she began. 

the boy's eyes narrowed and then he jumped up like he was gonna take another swing, "did he tell you that? i'm gonna fucking—"

samy grabbed his arm to bring him back to reality, "i was gonna find out sooner or later, kevin. you really thought hiding that from me was gonna work?" she sneered. 

"who the fuck told you?" he snapped back. 

"why does it even matter who told me? why the fuck did you punch him? if you didn't want him standing up for me, you should've done it first," the girl snapped right back at him. kevin's face twisted.

"well in case you wanted to know, he did confirm he liked you because he'd fuck you too if he had the chance," the brunette grumbled and hearing that made samy's insides twist but not in a bad way. 

"so what? that gave you the excuse to punch him?" 

"it confirmed what i've known all along and what you've kept denying since we got together," the boy pulled his arm away. 

"you could've seriously hurt him, kevin. i don't care how you feel, you don't fucking punch someone because they aren't making you happy. would you punch me?" the soccer player stood up so they were face to face. 

"he punched me back just so you know. he actually tackled me to the ground if that makes any difference."

"why are you so obsessed with this? why not just break up with me if you think i like him?" they were going in circles at this point. 

"because i wanna keep thinking that i'm wrong and there's nothing between you two. i wanna believe you like me. you keep fucking denying it so i'm choosing to believe you, but every time i'm around you guys i'm told otherwise. why can't you just fucking admit it to yourself, samy? why can't you admit to me that you like him?" now kevin was just pleading for some honesty and as much as samy was supposed to hate him right now, his words stung. 

"because i don't like him! i've never liked him!" she yelled at him. 

"there it is again. you're lying. i know you're lying. i can see it in your eyes. your tell is that you get defensive when you're lying," kevin pointed his finger right in her face which she pushed away. 

"well maybe it's because he's my best friend and has been my best friend since we were kids and i'm just so terrified to lose that! and maybe i just kept making myself belief he didn't like me because then it would save all of us so much hurt in the long run because dating your best friend always goes bad. have you ever liked someone that's so close to you that it just scares you more than anything because you don't wanna do anything that will put you into a position to lose them? i like you, kevin. that was never fake. i think it just..i just tried pushing away other feelings too in the process and it didn't end well," everything all just spilled out and samy dropped back down to the bench while hiding her face in her hands. 

a beat of silence passed between the two before kevin sunk back onto the bench next to her. he hesitated for a second, wondering if it would be the right movie, but ultimately placing his hand on her back. 

"shit, i'm sorry. i-i didn't mean to.." 

"no, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have snapped. i shouldn't have punched will. i shouldn't have done a lot of things," kevin shook his head. "if the feelings were really real, then hurting one another wouldn't be a question. i know it's scary, but i don't think you guys would put one another into a position to lose the other." 

"i don't even really know how i feel, but all i know is that i don't wanna lose will just because of some stupid feelings. i also don't wanna lose you either, but i just don't think we work in a relationship. i think i just need to be by myself before i even think about a serious relationship," she met the boy's gaze. it was sad, but he slowly nodded. 

"i get it, really. friend then?" the boy wondered and samy nodded. she hugged his side. 

"just a few things. don't punch my friends ever again, okay? and can you please delete that video?" 

"yes and yes. i promise i won't. i'm sorry i did," kevin sighed as he pulled his phone out so samy could watch him delete the video.

"i'm not the one who needs to hear that apology," she watched as he found it in his camera roll and pressed delete and then went to recently deleted to permanently delete. 

"yeah, i know. i doubt will would wanna hear me out though," kevin and samy exchanged a glance. 

"if i talk to him, do you promise to apologize to him?" the girl asked and kevin nodded. 

—

kevin caught will a few days later at a community soccer game samy was playing in with her club team. the blonde caught kevin coming towards them, his face twisting a bit but the brunette raised his arms as a surrender.

"i'm not here to punch you again if that's what you're wondering," the brunette mumbled.

"if you're here to start anything you better turn back around right now," ryan cut in because he did not want to deal with another fight. 

"i'm not, i swear. i was hoping will and i could talk?" kevin looked over at the blonde who stared at him for a good five seconds before slowly nodding.

"yeah, sure," will said and the two walked a bit out of earshot. 

"first, i wanna say i'm sorry for punching you. it was uncalled for and i shouldn't have done that, so i'm sorry. second, the video is completely gone, so you don't have to worry about that anymore," kevin explained and apologized. 

"i guess i shouldn't have punched back either," will nodded.

"can we just call it even? samy and i aren't together anymore so you don't have to worry about that anymore," the brunette stared at their shoes. 

"i'm sorry you guys broke up," the hockey player rocked on his heels and kevin just shrugged. 

"it's whatever. we're still friends and it's not weird or anything. we're good though?" kevin held his hand out as a truce. will stared at it before shaking it and the boys patted one another's backs.

"sorry again, will. thanks for talking," the blonde nodded and the two finally parted ways. will went back over to ryan and gabe who were curiously listening in. 

"what was that about? gabe wondered. 

"just..apologizing for real. i guess him and samy really did breakup," will explained and he watched his friends' gazes widen in surprise.

"oh shit. i didn't think she was actually serious," ryan mumbled.

"yeah, i guess. at least we don't have to deal with him anymore," the blonde shrugged a bit.

they were right though. kevin wasn't an issue for the rest of the year which meant samy and will were left to figure out what really was going on between them and how long samy could keep denying the feelings she had anytime her best friend was around.

[new-haven-psych-ward]

Kamen Rider Geats episode 47 poorly summarized via memes with as little context as possible:

[alteredphoenix]

There’s a part of me that wants to do a W*W/Danny Phantom multi-chaptered fic that’s set in Shadowlands but via Vlad’s POV, where the Veil between Reality gets torn apart and the Ghost Zone starts to get subsumed by the presence of the Maw and the Army of the Endless. (This being a very vague idea, just imagine some shit happens to Danny, or Vlad, or both, and they just get caught up in the whole thing.)

Also Vlad takes one look at Sylvanas and realizes that there’s someone just as pathetic and cowardly than he is, if not more so, and while it might not give him a complete Change of Heart it does make him Think.

[fnvbennygecko]

eye twitches

[monzabee]

the alchemy - cs55

masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where not Carlos, nor you, have the power to fight the alchemy. 

Pairing: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader 

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: absolute fluff (been a while), possible ovary explosion bc of dad!carlos, cursing (because i use way too many f-bombs in real life too), kids (apparently, it’s a tw for some people), i tried hating charles but it’s not happenning so a cheater redemption arc (kinda, he's trying okay??)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, thank you all so much for the love you showed for part one, i really appreciate it and i'm sorry that this part has been a little delayed, but i just wanted it to be just as drama-filled as the first part whilst still being a bit lighter so i hope i found the right balance for it. while we love dad!carlos, i felt like charles still deserved a chance to redeem himself and come to his senses so we love that redemption arc for him (well, kinda guess?). also, i know we have one more part of this little mini-series to go, a social media au (yay!), but i just wanted to let you all know, once again, that i do not have a taglist, and no i will not be making one!! however, i do appreciate all your support and comments, and please do let me know what you think about this part! thanks to @percervall once again, who had to listen me talk about this part for many many hours and who was kind enough to help me proofread!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It only happened once every few lifetimes. 

You honestly did not expect to end up with one of your closest friends – especially not after you told your cheating husband that you were getting a divorce, after he chose his lover over you and your baby; and most definitely not after the said close friend told you that he would step up instead of your cheat of a husband.  

But there you are, in the arms of non-other than Carlos Sainz, your boyfriend, having just woken up by the excited pitter patter of feet right outside your bedroom door. “Carlos,” you whisper, nudging him softly to wake him up, “Carlos, wake up.” You watch as he stirs, and then buries his head onto his pillow mumbling all the reasons why he doesn’t want to be awake, but you just chuckle softly as you poke him again. “Carlos, please.” 

With a disgruntled grunt, you watch as his eyes open, and with a scratchy voice he whines, “What, amor, I was sleeping.” 

Rolling your eyes, you point to the bedroom door, “Listen,” you tell him, and watch as his eyes widen as realisation sets in at the same time his expression turns into a smiling one. “I think someone is excited for today.”  

“You think?” He retorts, snorting lightly as he pulls you closer, “That’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks, amor.”  

“Well, can you blame him?” You nudge him, ignoring the sound of scraping of your son’s step stool outside your door. “He just wants to watch his father win.” Watching the smile on your boyfriend’s face grows as the door handle is jiggling, you point to the pillows with your head, “Let’s just pretend we’re asleep, he’ll be happier that way.”  

With a deep sigh, the happy kind, he pulls you closer to himself – at the right time too, as you hear the patter of footsteps getting closer. With a tug at the comforter, you hear, “Papa, wake up.” You can hear Carlos, badly, muffling a chuckle by burying his head deeper into your neck, but the little voice beside him is non-relenting. “Papa! You promised me we’d go to the race today!”  

“Carlos,” you whisper covertly, “you’re going to make him cry.”  

Giving you a look that silently says, No I won’t, he turns towards the little intruder in your bedroom, quickly gathering him in his arms as he puts him on the bed next to you. The sound of laughter coming from two of the most important men in your life bring a sleepy smile to your face as you watch Carlos tickle your son despites his protests for him to stop.  

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims, climbing over Carlos to reach you, “Tell Papa to stop! We need to get ready!” His face is flushed with excitement and laughter, a sight that fills your heart with warmth. 

“Alright, alright,” you say, giggling as you pull him into a hug, “let’s get ready then. You don’t want to be late for your big day, do you?” 

Carlos finally stops his playful assault, sitting up and stretching with a groan. “She’s right, buddy. We should all get up and get going. Lots to do before the race, you still remember our plan for breakfast?” Your son’s eyes light up even more, if that were possible, and he scrambles off the bed, running back to his room to get dressed. You and Carlos exchange a glance, something you seem to do more now than ever.  

You wait until Rafael is out of the hearing distance before you tilt your head sideways and narrow your eyes in question, “What plan are you talking about?” 

“Nothing for you,” he boops your nose with his pointer finger as he straightens up and gets out of the bed, “to worry your pretty little head about. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but willing to play along. “So, you think I’m pretty?” you ask, batting your eyes at him exaggeratedly as he gently shoves you back into the bed. Getting up and stretching, which you shamelessly take the opportunity to ogle him, you watch him with a smile as he heads towards the kitchen following your son. Getting ready consists of brushing your teeth and hastily throwing on a robe for you, too anxious to see what you son and husband cooking up in the kitchen – literally.  

The scene in the kitchen is enough to melt your heart on its own – Rafael is standing on his trusty step stool at the counter, his little hands busy arranging an assortment of fruits on a plate. The concentration on his face is evident by the way his tongue peeks out slightly in that adorable way he does when he’s focused, a habit that he picked up from his father. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is busy with flipping something in a pan, shirtless might you add.  

“Oh my God, look at my boys!” You croon, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. “You even have matching hats and everything!” 

“Boys?” Carlos scoffs, turning to Rafael and pointing his finger towards you, “Can you believe her?” He then turns to you as he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. “We are not boys, amor, we are men.” 

You chuckle at his exaggerated display of masculinity, shaking your head as you walk further into the kitchen. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? The two manliest men I know,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

Rafael, picking up on the banter, puffs out his little chest just like his father, mimicking his stance. “Yeah, Mommy! We're strong, right, Papa?” 

Carlos grins, his eyes twinkling as he looks at Rafael. “That’s right, we’re the strongest men in the world." He turns back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And we make the best breakfast too. Isn’t that right, Raf?” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, beaming with pride as he holds up the plate of perfectly arranged fruit. “Look what I made, Mommy!” 

You lean down to inspect his handiwork, smiling softly. “Wow, this looks incredible, sweetheart. You’re so talented!” You give him a big kiss on the cheek, making him giggle. 

Carlos steps closer, holding out a fork with a piece of pancake speared on it. “And how about a taste test, amor?” His voice is softer now, the playful tone giving way to something more tender. 

You take the fork from him, taking a bite of the pancake. The fluffiness and warmth of it fill your senses, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. “This is amazing, Carlos. You’ve outdone yourself.” 

He watches you with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Only the best for you.” 

Rafael, not wanting to be left out, grabs a piece of fruit and holds it up to you. “Try mine too, Mommy!” 

You take the fruit from him, savouring the sweetness as you chew. “Delicious! You’re both going to spoil me with all this great food.” 

Carlos chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver slightly. “I can also spoil you in the other way you like,” his voice drops enough for only you to hear.  

You glance up at him, meeting his playful yet heated gaze, and feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Carlos,” you murmur, half-warning, half-inviting, as Rafael happily oblivious to the exchange, chatters away about his breakfast creation. “I would like to still be able to walk by the time we get to the paddock.” 

But Carlos just smirks, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Later, amor,” he promises, his voice thick with affection and mischief. 

Before you can respond, Rafael tugs at your robe, breaking the spell. “Mommy! Let’s eat now!” His voice is filled with the kind of innocent excitement that only a child can muster, and it instantly brings you back in the present moment. 

You smile down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Carlos gives you one last knowing glance before stepping back to grab the plates. As the three of you settle down at the table, you try to ignore his lingering gaze that makes your heart race just a bit faster, though you’re not exactly that successful. 

It would be safe to say that it had been a crazy few years for Carlos Sainz. Or at least, that’s what Charles would say – if, you know, anybody was to ask him his opinion. First, he had lost his seat at Ferrari, and Charles really felt for him at first; after all, he was his teammate. But he was also the man who ended his marriage, so his feelings for Carlos changed for the worse very quickly. The whole situation had him coming to some revelations.  

First revelation he came to was the fact that he was wrong for cheating on his wife, however complicated the situation might be. He had tried to justify it to himself, blaming the stress and the strain, but deep down, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done. 

Second revelation was that you deserved to be happy, with or without him – he was just being petty because it was with his old teammate. You deserved to be happy, and while Charles could admit that in theory, accepting that your happiness was now tied to Carlos was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Third, and probably the biggest, revelation was that he had royally screwed up when he chose the other woman over you and your son, and it was a loss that he mourned every single day. If he thought seeing Carlos thrive after his own life was crumbling down was hurting his ego, seeing Carlos be the father to his son, was a thousand times worse.  

Life took an interesting turn for Carlos after that night at the hotel in Monte Carlo. You had no expectations for him, you didn’t expect him to stay true to his words and be there for you and your baby. But that was the thing, because he kept his promise. He was at your door the next morning with a short list of apartments and penthouses in Monte Carlo. Anticipating your need of getting out of the country, he was prepared – he also looked at apartments in New York, houses in LA and townhouses in London (the few apartments he chose in Madrid also didn’t escape you, but it was a conversation you weren’t ready to have yet). So, when you were having, yet another breakdown in front of him, he just stood next to you and held you until you calmed down. He was always next to you, somehow managing his schedule for the racing season and coming out to see you between races. He kept true to his promise as he made waffles for you at midnight, grumbling about how pancakes were superior, and he held your hand when you were in the delivery room even though you were probably close to breaking the poor man’s hand. The bigger shock came when he announced that he would not be racing for the next season – something he had conveniently not told you in the months leading up to your pregnancy. It also led up to your first fight, and your first real confrontation since this unexpected journey began. The news that Carlos wouldn’t be racing the next season blindsided you. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made such a monumental decision without consulting you; it was the realisation that he had chosen you and your child over the sport he loved so deeply. 

“What do you mean you’re not racing next season?” you had asked, your voice edged with disbelief. You were standing in the kitchen of the new apartment he had helped you find, your baby—your son—napping peacefully in the next room. Carlos was casually leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he had just announced something as mundane as what was for dinner. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you had come to recognize as a sign that he was about to say something serious. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said, his voice calm, and God it drove you insane how calm and rational he was being with a decision so irrational to you. “And after everything that’s happened... I just think it’s the right decision for now.” 

“But racing is your life,” you insisted, the weight of his words settling in. “I don’t understand how you can just walk away from it.” 

Carlos met your gaze, his brown eyes steady and full of determination. “It’s not about walking away,” he explained. “It’s about priorities. You and Rafael... you’re my priority now. I want to be here for you both, not halfway across the world, missing out on everything.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. For so long, you had been used to being let down, to promises that were made and then broken. But here was Carlos, standing in front of you, willing to give up something he loved more than anything for you and your son. 

“That’s not fair to you,” you whispered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.” 

Carlos stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not taking anything away from me,” he assured you. “You’re giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I’m choosing this, because I want to. I want to be here for you, to be the father Rafael deserves. I want us to be a family.” 

His words broke through the wall you had been holding up, and you let the tears fall. It wasn’t just about the sacrifice he was making; it was about the fact that he was doing it willingly, without hesitation, because he wanted to be with you and Rafael. It was a love that was deeper than anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with hope. 

“But what if you regret it?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. 

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “I know what I want. And if I ever go back to racing, it’ll be when we’re ready. When we both decide it’s the right time. But for now, this is where I need to be.” 

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was as serious as ever, and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about him making a choice— it was about him choosing you, over and over again, in a way no one ever had before. 

The argument you had anticipated fizzled out before it could even begin. There was nothing left to fight about, not when he had laid his heart bare for you. All you could do was fall into his arms, holding onto him tightly as you let the weight of his decision sink in. It was overwhelming, knowing that someone loved you that much, that they would uproot their entire world just to be by your side. 

So, yeah, Carlos Sainz had not raced for the 2025 season. If it were up to him, he would stay with the two of you for the 2026 season as well, but you and Carlos Sainz Sr managed to convince him to get back to the real world, no matter how much he was enjoying being a stay-at-home dad. But the biggest shock for the world, and Charles, wasn’t that Carlos was returning to the F1 grid – no, the biggest shock was that he was returning to the F1 grid in one of the most coveted seats; right next to Max Verstappen. The reaction to the news had been mixed. Some were thrilled to see him back, eager to see what he could do in a car as competitive as the Red Bull. Others were skeptical, wondering if a year away from the sport had dulled his edge. For Charles, the news was a bitter pill to swallow. Carlos wasn’t just returning to the grid—he was stepping into one of the most sought-after seats in F1. But more than that, it was the reminder that Carlos had taken something else from him, something far more personal and painful. Watching Carlos step into his new role at Red Bull, knowing that he was now part of your life and Rafael’s life in a way Charles never could be, was a constant, aching reminder of everything he had lost. 

And so began the Leclerc-Sainz rivalry – which although sounds riveting, is probably the reason why you had to visit your cardiologist more times than necessary within the last couple of years. On the surface, it was the perfect storyline: two former teammates, now on opposing sides, battling it out on the track in some of the most intense and thrilling races the sport had ever seen. But for you, it was far from entertainment. Each race weekend became a new source of anxiety, and Carlos knew how much it affected you, so he tried his best to keep the rivalry on the track. He would reassure you, telling you that whatever happened during the race, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you or Rafael. But even he couldn’t deny that the tension between him and Charles was personal. It was more than just racing—it was about proving something, not just to the world, but to themselves and each other. And so, race after race, you found yourself on an emotional rollercoaster. The thrill of seeing Carlos perform at his best was always accompanied by the fear of what might happen if things went wrong. The rivalry wasn’t just a storyline for the media—it was a real, living thing that had a profound impact on your life. 

So, when Rafael told you that he wanted to watch his father race live, you were hesitant to agree. The thought of bringing your son into that world—where emotions ran high, and the stakes were even higher—filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was for Rafael to witness the intensity of the rivalry that had consumed not just Carlos and Charles, but your entire life. 

Carlos, however, was adamant. He knew how much it meant to Rafael to see him race, to be a part of something that had been such a significant part of Carlos’s life before Rafael was born. “He needs to see it,” Carlos told you one evening as you sat together, discussing Rafael’s request. “He needs to know what I do, why it’s important to me, and why I went back to racing in the first place.”  

You couldn’t deny that Carlos had a point. Rafael idolized his father and seeing him in action would only strengthen the bond between them. But the idea of watching the race unfold, of seeing Carlos and Charles go head-to-head while your son was there, was almost too much to bear. The days leading up to the race were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Carlos did his best to reassure you, but the tension was palpable. He understood your fears and promised to keep things professional, but you both knew that once the lights went out, everything would be on the line. So, you weren’t exactly surprised that your boyfriend spent the entire morning buttering you up and getting you to relax as much as possible about the day ahead of you.  

And to be perfectly fair, he was right for the most part. It had been fine from the moment you made it into the paddock, which somehow worked wonders on your anxiety. As you made your way to the circuit, Rafael’s excitement was infectious. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his little face pressed against the window as he took in the sights. You couldn’t help but smile, his joy momentarily easing the knot of anxiety that had been tightening in your chest since the moment you agreed to come to the paddock in the first place.  

Seeing him so happy and in his element, you know instantly that the paddock, no matter in which country, is going to become his safe place. Rafael keeps asking Carlos questions about everything from how they manage to keep the cars so clean to what would happen if they didn’t wear helmets. And Carlos is patient as he answers all his questions, no matter how childish or obvious they might seem. So, when he told Rafael that maybe, just maybe, he might end up in one of the cars he admires so much one day, you know your son won’t miss the beat. “Can I?” He asks you, eyes widened with a pleading look as he clasps his hands together under his chin, “Please, Mommy, I promise I’ll be very careful.”  

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head, mind immediately starting to think about all the things that could go wrong, “it’s so dangerous! Just think about how afraid you’d be of the speed.”  

Rafael scoffs, arms crossed on his chest as he pleads through the pout he has on his face, “I’m not afraid of the speed! Papa, tell her I’m not afraid of the speed!” 

Carlos reaches over Rafael’s head as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, which manages to get a series of giggles from the little boy, and he affirms, “You are not afraid of the speed, but your mother is right.” You have to hold in your laughter when you see the indignant look on Rafael’s face, but Carlos continues talking as he signals for his son to listen, “We can talk about it when you are older, but for right now you are my lead strategist, capisce?” 

Rafael steers his pout towards you, and you shrug innocently in response, which gets a resigning sigh from him. “That’s fine, I guess.” He mumbles, and points to the garage door behind the table the three of you are sitting, “Can I look at your car again?” 

“Be careful, and make sure you tell Caco where you are.” Carlos reminds him, as Rafael excitedly scurries off toward the garage, leaving you and Carlos to share a quiet moment. 

Carlos leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing on his lips as he watched Rafael dart off. “He’s got the bug,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your head playfully. “I know. He’s already got the attitude. I don’t think I’m ready for him to jump in a kart and never look back.” 

Carlos reaches for your hand, his touch grounding you. “We’ll keep him safe,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll make sure he’s ready, and we’ll protect him from the worst of it.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, trusting him like you always have. As you sit together, watching Rafael’s excitement fill the garage, the sweet moment is interrupted by a voice both of you know very well. “Seriously? You’re using him to get to me on a race day now?”  

Your fingers nearly crush your poor boyfriend’s hand as you look at the intruder, your heart immediately racing. You turn to see Charles standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. His eyes flicker from Carlos to you, then toward the garage where Rafael had just run off. “Excuse me?” You manage to get out, your voice sharp with surprise. The audacity of his accusation stings more than you expected. Charles' gaze hardens as he steps closer, clearly not backing down. 

“You heard me,” Charles says, his tone edged with bitterness. “Bringing Rafael here, right in the middle of everything... it’s not a coincidence. You’re just trying to—” 

“To what?” Carlos cuts in, his voice calm but firm. His protective instincts kick in as he stands, placing himself between you and Charles. “To have a good day with our son? To let him enjoy the race?” 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s not your son, he’s mine. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re his father just because you’re here.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent. Carlos' expression tightens, but he doesn’t move, his body still a shield between you and Charles. You feel your breath catch in your throat, the weight of Charles’ words hanging heavy in the air. “I know who his father is, Charles,” Carlos says, his voice calm but steely. “And considering the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist, I’d say me being here is more than proof that I am his father.” 

Charles' jaw clenches, and his eyes flicker with something raw—pain, jealousy, frustration, all mixed together. “You think you can just step in and take my place? Be the dad, play happy family with my son?” 

“Cabrón,” Carlos warns, and though you’ve heard him use that nickname for his friends countless of times, this voice is devoid of all affection, “you lost all right to call yourself Rafael’s father when you decided to choose whatever flavour of the month you were with at the time.” You feel your heart race, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment and the murderous look on Carlos’ face. Carlos steps forward, his voice low but terse. “You think being a father is about biology? About showing up when it’s convenient for you? Rafael doesn’t even know who you are because you’ve never been there for him. I have. I’ve been the one tucking him in, I've been there when he was sick and crying, and I’m the one showing him love every single day.”  

Charles flinches, the sting of the truth evident in his expression. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something else— regret, perhaps. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he straightens his posture, trying to regain control of the situation. “I made mistakes,” Charles says, his voice quiet but defiant. “But you can’t just erase me from his life. He has a right to know who his real father is.” 

Carlos’ gaze doesn’t waver, his protective instincts blazing. “Rafael knows who his real father is. He may not understand all the details yet, but he knows who’s been there for him. And when the time comes, when he’s ready, we’ll tell him the truth. But that decision isn’t yours to make anymore, Charles. You gave up that right a long time ago.” 

“You’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like this?” Charles hisses, turning towards you in an attempt to find sympathy. His eyes are pleading, but there’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Your chest tightens as you meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything that has been left unsaid between the three of you for so long. You take a deep breath, your voice soft but firm when you finally respond. “It’s time to let go, Charles.” Charles' face falls at your words, the weight of their finality hitting him hard. His lips part slightly as if he wants to argue, but no words come. The tension in the air is suffocating, each second stretching out painfully. Carlos remains silent, standing tall beside you, his hand subtly resting on your back for support. He knows this conversation is yours to finish. “It’s not about erasing you from Rafael’s life,” you continue, your voice steady though your heart is pounding in your chest. “It’s about doing what’s best for him. And right now, that means protecting him from the confusion and hurt that the fact that you were too much of a coward to choose him.” 

Charles takes a step back, the anger in his expression dimming into something more fragile. His eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a trace of the bond you once shared, but it’s clear that things have changed too much. Too much time has passed. “I’m not trying to hurt him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I apologised countless of times, what more do you want from me? I am sorry, okay?” 

“Are you quite done?” Charles flinches at your sharp tone, the weight of your words settling heavily between the three of you. His gaze drops to the ground as if he’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes. Carlos stands steady beside you, his presence strong, comforting, even. “I am sorry, too, about it all.”  

You can feel Carlos’ confused stare on you, and Charles looks at you with the same expression as he asks, “You... do?” 

“I’m sorry that you were cheating on me from the start, I’m sorry you were too weak to stay faithful to me after we got married,” you continue, the words heavy but resolute as they fall from your lips. Charles' expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and pain crossing his face. Carlos’ hand tightens slightly on your back, offering silent support as you finally lay bare what you’ve held inside for so long. “I’m sorry I ignored it for as long as I did, and I’m sorry that I ever found out.” Charles’ face hardens, his eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a hint of defensiveness as your words hit him. The weight of what you're saying seems to pull him down, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to absorb the impact. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, not willing to let this moment slip away before you say everything that’s been weighing on your heart. “I’m sorry I ever found out about the lies, but most of all, I’m sorry for Rafael. He deserved better, he deserved a father who was present and loved him without conditions,” you say, your eyes locking with Charles’. “You weren’t there, Charles, you weren’t there before Rafael, and you weren’t going to be there after him. So, I suppose what I’m not sorry for is falling in love with a man who was courageous enough to fill that role for both me and him.” Charles’ lips part as if to argue, but no words form. His eyes betray the guilt and regret he’s been carrying, but there’s nothing left for him to say. He knows it. You know it. Even the mechanics and people around you who have stopped what they are doing to watch this whole thing go down know it. “Finally, I’m sorry that you felt the need and audacity to come down here, now not only have you ruined our marriage, but you’ve also ruined my day-off which I intended to spend with my boyfriend, and our son.” 

Charles flinches at your final words, his face crumpling under the weight of it all. The sting of your truth, laid bare for everyone to hear, leaves him speechless. His bravado has completely evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of regret and defeat. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, realizing there’s nothing he can say that will undo the damage he caused, the pain he inflicted, or the years he lost. His eyes flicker to Carlos, who stands steady, unmoved by Charles’ turmoil. There’s no room for pity here. “I—” Charles begins but stops as Carlos raises his hand.  

“I think you’ve said enough,” his voice lacks all sympathy for his old friend, his old teammate, “it’s best you should go before you distress my girlfriend, or my son any further.  

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at Carlos’ words, the final blow landing hard. He looks as if he’s been physically struck, his shoulders slumping as any remaining fight drains from him. His gaze flickers between you and Carlos, searching for something—anything—but finding no redemption, no sympathy. There’s nothing left to say. 

He swallows hard, his lips pressed into a tight line, before finally nodding in a reluctant acceptance. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He turns on his heel, walking away with slow, defeated steps. The tension that had gripped the air slowly begins to dissipate as he disappears into the distance, leaving only the echoes of his footsteps behind. 

Carlos turns to you, his hand still resting on your back, but now it’s a comforting gesture rather than a protective one. His expression softens as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s just happened, but also a sense of relief. “I think so,” you reply, your voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind you’ve just gone through. “It needed to happen.” 

Carlos nods, his thumb brushing soothingly against your back. “He’s not going to ruin this for us. Not today, not ever.” 

You smile faintly, grateful for his support. “No, he’s not. He’s gone now, and I’m finally free of it all.” 

“We’re free of him,” Carlos adds, a reassuring strength in his voice. “You, me, and Rafael. That’s what matters.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful on the track today,” you plead, chin resting on his chest as you look up to him.  

Carlos chuckles softly, his warm smile easing the tension that still lingers. “I promise,” he says, his voice light but sincere. He tilts his head, giving you a playful wink. “But you know me, I can’t drive too carefully. It's in my nature to push the limits a bit.” 

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, but your heart flutters slightly at the thought of him racing. It’s something you’ve grown used to, but there’s always that edge of worry. "Just... don’t make me regret asking," you tease, though the concern in your voice is real. 

Carlos leans down, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness. "I’ll come back to you both, safe and sound," he whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. "Always." 

You smile, feeling reassured by his words, and you give him a small nod. "Alright. Go show them what you’re made of, then." 

As Carlos pulls away, you can see the familiar spark in his eyes, the passion and excitement that he always carries before a race. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning to head toward the car. You watch him for a moment, taking in the sight of him—confident, composed, and ready for whatever comes next. Just before he reaches the garage doors, he turns back and flashes you that signature grin that always makes your heart skip a beat. “For you and Rafael,” he calls out. Your smile widens as you watch him go, knowing that no matter what happens on the track today, you’ll always have each other. 

It’s not hard for you to find Rafael when you head back to the garage yourself. He’s completely engrossed in conversation with one of Carlos' engineers, pointing out different tools and parts of the car with wide-eyed fascination. His little hands gesture excitedly, and the engineer listens with a warm smile, clearly amused by Rafael’s enthusiasm. Carlos stands off to the side, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching his son with a look of pure affection and pride. His eyes sparkle as he takes in the sight of Rafael’s excitement, and there’s a certain softness to his expression that makes your heart swell. 

You walk over, standing beside Carlos, who doesn’t take his eyes off Rafael but greets you with a small grin. “He’s already talking like he’s part of the team,” Carlos says quietly, his voice filled with pride. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taking over the pit crew in a few years.” 

You chuckle softly, watching Rafael explain something animatedly, his little voice echoing through the garage. “He’s got your passion,” you say, leaning into Carlos slightly, feeling the warmth of his presence. 

Carlos hums in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. “Maybe,” he says, his tone affectionate, “but the way he talks about everything… that’s all you. He’s got your curiosity, your heart, so, all my favourite parts of you.” 

“My boyfriend the charmer,” you mumble as you lightly hit him on his chest.

Carlos chuckles, catching your hand gently against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just telling the truth,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. “You deserve all the charm in the world.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re good at this, or I might think you’re just trying to get out of bath time for the next few days.” 

Carlos laughs, his warm, deep voice sending a wave of comfort through you. “I’d never do that. Bath time is part of the job.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “But if I do this race right, maybe we can negotiate something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he always manages to make you feel light and cared for, even in the most mundane moments. “Alright, we’ll see how you perform today,” you tease back “if you win, I’ll let you put a baby in me, how about that?” 

Carlos freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before a slow, playful grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice filled with both excitement and disbelief. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to hide your own smile. “If you win today, we can start thinking about it.” 

Carlos lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to process what you just said. “Well, I’ve never been more motivated to win a race in my life,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a new intensity. 

You chuckle, your heart racing at the look on his face. "Just make sure you’re focused on the track and not… well, other things." 

“Oh, I’ll be focused,” Carlos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “But now, I’ve got the best reason in the world to win.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “For you, and for giving Rafael a baby sister or a brother.” Your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice, and as he pulls back, he flashes you that charming grin again before heading off toward the car. You watch him go, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness settle in your chest. 

Eventually going behind the barriers and watching the race is harder than you’ve expected, you realise. As the laps go by, you keep glancing at Rafael, who’s glued to the action, his eyes wide with admiration for his dad. You smile at the way he clutches his little racing helmet, a miniature version of Carlos’ gear, his excitement evident. It’s clear he’s living every moment of the race through his dad’s performance, just as you are. When Carlos is in the lead, you hold your breath, willing him to stay ahead. When he’s fighting for position, you’re on the edge of your seat, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you have. 

As the final laps approach, you glance at the clock and then at Rafael, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. You can tell he’s just as invested in the outcome as you are. You squeeze his hand, giving him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a determined nod. 

When Carlos crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd is deafening, and you let out a cheer of your own, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. You look down at Rafael, who’s jumping up and down, his face beaming with pride and excitement. “He did it!” you shout, lifting him up in your arms as you join in the celebration. 

Caco and a couple of the mechanics help you and Rafael to get to the barriers, weaving through the throng of celebrating fans and team members. As you approach the barriers, Rafael’s excitement is noticeable. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he clutches his mini helmet tightly, bouncing with every step. Caco, with his warm, reassuring smile, offers a few words of congratulations and gives Rafael a high-five. Carlos comes into view, his car parked in the parc fermé. His grin is infectious, and you can see the joy and relief in his eyes as he looks up at you and Rafael. The moment he gets out of the car, he’s enveloped by his team, but his gaze quickly finds you and Rafael. He finds his way to you after getting weighed and you can see him grab his cap before finally rushing towards you. Carlos scoops Rafael up into his arms, spinning him around as they both laugh, and then turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got a baby sister or brother to start thinking about,” Carlos says with a wink, setting Rafael down so he can pull you a in for a kiss. 

You smile against his lips, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the joy of this moment. When you pull away, you look up at Carlos, your eyes sparkling with love and excitement. “We do, don’t we?” you say softly, your heart full as you take in the sight of your family together in this victorious moment. 

Rafael, still buzzing with excitement, tugs on Carlos’ sleeve, his little voice bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Papa, did you see me cheering? I was so loud!” 

Carlos laughs, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I heard you, buddy. You were the loudest cheerleader out there.” 

As the celebration continues around you, you feel a profound sense of contentment. The day’s events, the race, the emotions—everything has come together perfectly. You take a deep breath, savouring the feeling of being surrounded by the people you love most. 

Carlos pulls you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Rafael. “Thank you for everything today,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve made this day even more special.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart. “It’s been an incredible day,” you agree, looking out at the jubilant scene around you. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.” 

As you watch him savour the moments with your son before he needs to go for his interview and the podium celebrations, you realise just how lucky you are to have something that only happens every few lifetimes. 

[louisferrignojr]

i have all sorts of criticisms for 911 as a show overall, for the 8x06 bucktommy storyline specifically, and for tim minear as a writer and showrunner. all valid criticisms and things I'm allowed to do as a queer viewer, because it relates to the writing choices, regardless whether they are influenced by external factors such as actor availability, budgets, or network demands and restrictions.

but you won't see me turning on oliver stark like a fucking rabid delusional buddie shipper.

using my logic and basic knowledge about the world of television, i can't put any blame on him for this shitfest. you won't see me coming up with ridiculous theories that he hates lou (#1 buddie talking point since the beginning) or that he got tim to write the episode this way (he's just a bloody actor ffs), that he hasn't done enough to champion the ship (you want him to be a bucktommy warrior?), because guess what?

say he promoted the relationship on his personal instagram, say he hyped it up more in interviews, say he interacted with shippers online or showcased more bucktommy fanworks... and the pair broke up in 8x06? because he doesn't write the show? you could then argue oliver engaged in queerbaiting, because the show did not deliver the queer content he promoted.

and isn't that what he was accused of anyway, before he deleted his twitter? doesn't it make sense that he might want to be careful about this?

and given the harassment he's had to endure from buddie shippers, i find it perfectly acceptable to answer buddie questions diplomatically because we know what those people are fucking capable of. it makes sense to me that he doesn't want to anger them.

at the end of the day, i'm not defending him. i've said before i'm deeply disappointed with his comments in the TVline interview and the way he doubled down in that instagram post. he has lost my respect and i no longer think he's a good ally to bisexual people specifically, because when you are playing a bisexual character, you have the bare minimum obligation to listen when real bisexual people are telling you that you fucked up. yes, i would like to see him acknowledge his wrongdoing and show that he understands the issue and why the things he said were biphobic. no matter how badly he fucked up, he should be allowed to reflect and make amends... because he's a human being and that's what the weewoo show is about. redemption arcs and second chances all around, folks.

but - he's literally just an actor and a celebrity. i expect nothing. i'm not holding out hope. i spare him no mind. i don't hate him and i'm not angry with him because i never idolised him. because i don't know him beyond the persona he shows the world. no one does. we can infer things based on what we see and hear, but there's really no way to know how much of that is his authentic self.

anyway. just my two cents 🫶

[trashyjester]

Btw, me and my friend were talking about Deadpool &(×) Wolverine bcs we both liked it a fucking lot and I'm in brainrotting and he's the only one who actually listen to me while I yap about Wade and Logan and this is what came out of it after I said that the fact that Vanessa is with someone else and Wade seems to totally respect that and he is not trying to go back with her means that they are both in new stages of their lives where they are just friends (thanks to @/charcubed for the analysis on that)

"I mean, in the ending Logan kinda acted like a wingman for Wade, telling him to talk to Vanessa, (maybe bcs he likes him but he doesn't think that he is good enough for Wade?) but yeah, Wade and Vanessa sure as hell are not back together, it's more of a "I am now at peace with you". Also Wade introducing Logan to Al had quite the romantic vibes, even though I'm not sure Logan is going to stay with him, as he said he wanted to part ways when they wasted the shawarmas (the pain I felt seeing them throwing the food...my lord lol).

But the super soft expression that Logan had while looking at Wade yapping about them and dogpool to Al makes me guess they didn't really parted ways in the end.

It's kinda left in the air. Probably left to interpretation.

It seemed like Logan wanted to go, but then you see them together and Wade introduces him to Al and they literally look like someone who is definitely gonna stay together from now on.

Wade frames it as "let's do this one last thing before you go". But Logan doesn't really have a place to go actually...

Also he's still there for the party, which I don't think happens on the same day as the Al scene.

Also also, I see a clear parallel between Logan's backstory and his current situation with Wade, in particular the whole "I didn't want them to know I wanted to stay with them", and also also also Logan said he wears his suit because it reminds him of his comrades, so the fact that it got destroyed in the finale has the clear symbolic meaning of him overcoming his grief and finally becoming part of a new group (other than being an excuse for showing off his muscles), which would also be the ending of his redemption arc, which in turn would not really sound that redemptive if he were to go back to the exact situation where he was at the beginning of the movie.

So yeah, narratively speaking, everything points to Logan and Wade staying together."

[extensionallydefined]

Okay, so, I need to talk about the relationship between Persona 5's ending and Persona 5 royal's ending, because I think it isn't discussed enough how one puts into question the themes of the other and in doing so it elevates everything that came before.

Spoilers are coming, you've been warned.

The main thing that's given me an outlet to think about this is a few quotes from the Phantom Thieves when they're in the Velvet Room after being Thanos-snapped by Yaldabaoth. Specifically these quotes:

Ann: "I... I never want anyone to have to go through what I did!"

Yusuke: "Just as art is meant to break boundaries, people should be saved even if they frown upon it. I won't allow the justice I believe in to be shaken any further!"

Ryuji: "We're doin' this to make sure people don't go through the same crap we did. It doesn't matter if they think we're just or not. We gotta do what we believe in!"

Futaba: "I can't let people suffer like this, even if I don't know them personally"

They mention some core ideas: 1. They want to prevent people's suffering because of the suffering they've felt. 2. They must do this regardless of if people want it, because they think it's the right thing to do. 3. Their justice is worth fighting for by virtue of being what they believe in.

Does this seem familiar? Maybe makes you think of a certain therapist who shows up in Royal?

I think Takuto Maruki serves a decent amount of purposes narratively and thematically, but one of the most genius things about him is that he serves as a foil to both the Phantom Thieves and Akechi, and in being that foil, he is, deep down, following the principles that the Phantom Thieves fought for - In the end, it was largely Joker who inspired him to fight for his reality.

Maruki fights for a reality where suffering straight up doesn't exist, because he doesn't want anyone to feel the suffering he's had to endure. Maruki wants the Phantom Thieves and Akechi to never feel suffering anymore, regardless of their stance on the matter. He is "saving" them regardless of their wishes, and will fight them to keep the reality he wants. He thinks the world is unfair, so his "justice" is to make a perfect world for everyone - and that's what makes it worth fighting for, because that's what he believes.

Maruki's rationale to fight against the Phantom Thieves and Akechi is (partly) the same reasoning that the Phantom Thieves use to regain their motivation to fight the Holy Grail/Yaldabaoth.

So, narratively, Maruki serves as a mirror that's telling things not to be told for the Phantom Thieves to look into and to see the ugly parts of their own way of acting. Can they really fight Maruki, knowing that he is just acting how they did?

I see people sometimes refusing Maruki's reality because it "wouldn't actually work" or "it's imperfect". But as far as I'm aware, it's imperfect because it hasn't been completed yet - I think the game is a lot more interesting under the pretense that Maruki truly has the power to erase all suffering, once his reality is complete, past the deadline. I also see the argument, and even the game uses it, that Maruki's world "isn't reality". But did we listen well to Morgana's speech before he disappeared in the Yaldabaoth arc? The world itself is made up of cognition, reality is born from the points of view of everyone. Maruki *can* change reality, and the real question of the game is not about the logistics or "ontological dignity" of his reality, but rather - Do you want a world where all your wishes are granted and no suffering exists?

In the end, the game shows the Phantom Thieves that "sticking to their justice" will make them fight against people with similar ideals as theirs. It's funny, in a way, how Akechi was the one fully willing to fight Maruki from the start. His rebellion has always been more individualistic in nature than the Phantom Thieves' - he wanted revenge for himself, then redemption for himself and now he wants a reality where he isn't under anyone's control anymore. To him, Shido's country, Yaldabaoth's ruin and Maruki's world are all the same - Maruki just has a nicer, more therapy-speaky way of presenting his proposal, and sees people as his equals rather than as insolent masses, but his goal is the same. They're all worlds that shackle you for the "greater good". And in the end, Maruki, and Royal, force the P5 gang to become more like Akechi - to value their individuality in the face of the public's "justice".

To fight for what you believe in you will face people with the same determination as you. They will be your equals in many, many ways. In the end, you can only stick to your guns and hope that what you believe in is worth more than what they believe in.

I have a lot more to write about these topics but I'll leave it there. Maybe about the relationship between Maruki's reality and individuality next? That could be fun ^^

Btw - Special thanks to @thedaythatwas for inspiring me to write up stuff about Persona 5 Royal!

[fullbattleregalia]

I’ve been reading a lot of Star Wars prequels time travel fix-its, and I really want one now where it’s Anakin and Trilla (aka Second Sister), who get sent back. Anakin from right after he finally kills Palpatine and Trilla from right after Vader killed her. Just two semi-kinda-maybe reformed sith jammed back into their teenage bodies and being like, “Well, that was an absolute shit show - let’s not do that again.” Only Anakin had just started his redemption arc when he died and Trilla had only just gotten the closure to maybe consider a starting a redemption arc when she died, so they have no idea what they’re doing. Aside from killing Palpatine - that is the one thing they definitely agree on. How? Not sure. Still working on that.

Anyway, Anakin is around 17; Trilla is almost 14. They’ve snuck out of the Temple and are on the run on Coruscant, so that they can complete their plan of “Murder the Supreme Chancellor with Extreme Prejudice” and also because Trilla maaaaay have reflexively kidnapped an initiate on their way out of the Temple. Listen, teeny Initiate Cal Kestis was right there, and he’s the one thing Trilla has roundabout positive associations with at the moment, and the sudden reintroduction of teenage hormones is hell on impulse control. So she’s keeping him. This is her tiny initiate now. Cere can’t have him. Neither can Anakin - go kidnap your own initiate if you want one so bad.

Cal thinks this is all an exciting adventure, though he doesn’t quite understand why Padawan Suduri and Padawan Skywalker keep arguing over whether just blowing up the entire Senate building is worth the effort. Maybe it’s an inside joke?

[brunchable]

POV: You're sucked into your Fanfic - Part Three

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Writer!fReader Themes/Warning: Comedy - Chaotic Duo (mainly y/n), breaking 4th wall. Fanfic Bucky meets his writer. Swearing. Summary: So you got kicked out of your own fanfic and know you have to go to work and face real life problems. . . or so you thought. A/N: Listen, don't expect this fanfic to be well organized because it's not supposed to be. I don't know where I am going with this yet, do enjoy this chaotic fanfic with me for now lmfao.

tags: @winterslove1917 @zeeader @iamdedsthingz @hzdhrtss @almosttoopizza

@yiiiikesmish @literaryavenger @aquabrie @ramp-it-up @nash-dara

@winchestert101

You leap out of your car like a bat out of hell, convinced that you’re finally back to normal life. No more fanfic shenanigans, no more redemption arcs gone wrong. Just a regular, boring job where I definitely won’t have to deal with anything weird.

As you stumble into the elevator, trying to untangle yourself from your coat and shove a half-eaten granola bar into your mouth, you breathe a sigh of relief. Finally. Back to real life.

You slap the “Close Door” button repeatedly, desperate to get moving. The elevator hums, the doors sliding halfway shut. But just as they’re about to close completely, they flicker—a sudden, sharp flicker of the lights overhead—and the entire elevator rumbles like it’s having a midlife crisis.

Your eyes widen as the lights dim and flicker again, the walls creaking. 

“Uh... what the hell?” 

You press the button frantically, but the flickering intensifies for a brief moment, making the whole thing feel more like the start of a horror movie than an office elevator ride.

Weird. Really weird. But then, just as quickly as it started, the flickering stops, the lights stabilize, and the doors begin to glide open again.

The doors glide back open, and in walks CEO Bucky Barnes, striding into the elevator like he owns not only the building but the entire damn planet. And the universe beyond that. He’s dressed in a sleek, tailored suit, the kind that screams: I make more money in an hour than you’ll see in a lifetime.

Your granola bar nearly falls out of your mouth as you press yourself against the elevator wall like a frightened mouse, eyes wide. 

“Oh, come on.”

Bucky glances at you, arching an eyebrow as he steps inside, completely unbothered. He casually hits the close button, taking a bite out of the apple he’s holding, and then gives you a look, as if your entire existence is mildly amusing.

Oh, no. When I said I want to go back I meant in my other fanfic, NOT THIS. You swallow hard, gripping the railing in the elevator. Is this another one of those fanfics I wrote and abandoned?

You glance at him again, suddenly realizing the flickering, the rumbling, the tailored suit, and the attitude. This is definitely not the action Bucky from before. Nope, this is CEO Bucky, and apparently, he has zero patience for your existence.

Great.

You groan internally, wishing you could rewind the last five minutes of your life.

He’s holding an apple—eating it, actually—like some kind of smug Greek god. The crunch echoes in the small space of the elevator, and with every bite, you can practically hear your sanity cracking.

You backup more—if it’s even possible—against the corner of the elevator, eyes wide, heart pounding. 

“Oh my God. Oh no, no, no—” you mutter to yourself, eyes darting around like you might find an emergency escape hatch. 

Bucky side-eyes you, not missing a beat as he takes another crunch of his apple. He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your sudden and very visible panic attack.

“You’re late,” he says casually, as if pointing out the weather. The way he speaks, smooth and lazy, is enough to send a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t even look fully at you—just a quick glance that screams you are insignificant in my kingdom.

Your eyes dart around the elevator, fully cornered now. 

“Wh— I—Late? What—no, I’m not late!” You tug at your coat, flustered, hands shaking as you clutch your bag like it’s a lifeline. “I mean—yes, I’m late, but also... what are you doing here?”

CEO Bucky pauses mid-bite, looking at you as if you’ve just sprouted two heads. He finally turns fully toward you, taking another slow, calculated bite of his apple. 

“What am I doing here? I own this building.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like you should already be bowing down to him or, at the very least, shining his shoes. His eyebrow arches higher, and his lips quirk up at the corner into the slightest smirk. A smirk that makes you want to scream and faint simultaneously.

You sputter, pressing yourself further into the elevator corner like you’re trying to melt into the walls. 

“Right. Of course. You’re the CEO. That’s... that’s normal. Completely normal. You just... randomly show up in elevators eating apples and ruining people’s lives.”

“You always this chaotic first thing in the morning?” He shakes his head slowly, clearly unimpressed with your rambling.

“What—excuse me? Chaotic?” You blink, momentarily thrown off.

He takes one last bite of his apple before tossing it in the trash bin in the corner with a smooth flick of his wrist. 

“Yeah,” he says, turning to face the elevator doors as they slide shut. “Usually you’re nice and quiet”

You gape at him, jaw practically on the floor. “Nice and quiet?!”

The elevator starts to move again, and you just stare at the back of his head, blinking rapidly. This can’t be real. This CAN’T be real. You glance up at the ceiling, half expecting the universe to laugh in your face.

“Right, okay,” you mutter to yourself. “Cool. I’m in a scrapped fanfic where CEO Bucky Barnes exists and I’m... late for something. That’s fine. Totally fine.”

The elevator dings as it reaches another floor, and you brace yourself for whatever happens next.

Bucky side-eyes you again, folding his arms, his suit jacket stretching over his broad shoulders in a way that is entirely too distracting. 

“Try not to make this a habit,” he says coolly, his voice dripping with condescension.

You blink. “What—what habit?”

He shrugs casually. “Being late. And whatever this is,” he gestures to you, still cornered and clearly flustered, “your whole... thing.”

“My whole thing?” You’re so flustered you don’t even know what to say. “This isn’t even a thing! I don’t have a thing! This is just... my life, okay?”

Bucky smirks, his gaze sliding over you like he’s assessing whether or not you’ll survive the next five minutes. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, stepping out as the elevator doors open again. “Totally, your thing.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You’re left standing there, dumbfounded, staring at the empty space where he was just seconds ago.

The elevator doors close again, and you let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I hate this fanfic already.”

× × × ×

You sit at your desk, your fingers tapping anxiously on the keyboard, but your brain is doing everything but work. It’s going a million miles a minute, trying to piece together what exactly happened to land you in this ridiculous situation.

You glance down at the stack of papers on your desk, all labeled with the company’s sleek logo, and let out a long, tortured groan. 

Then it hits you like a freight train: You’re Bucky Barnes’ assistant. This is what you wrote months ago before you rage-quit the whole story.

Your head drops into your hands. Fuuuuck.

“What was this about again?!” you mutter under your breath, trying to dig through the mental files of your abandoned fanfic plot. 

You remember vaguely setting this story up to be some kind of CEO!AU where Bucky was... what? Brooding and powerful? Sexy, for sure. In control of everything? Definitely. You were supposed to be some mild-mannered assistant who totally had her life together.

But that was so not you either. You had given up on this story for a reason—writer problems. Why did I even scrap this plot again? Oh right. Because it got so cringey you couldn't even finish it.

You try to think back to why this fanfic had hit the writer’s block wall. It was something to do with the plot going absolutely nowhere. You had no idea where to take it, so naturally, you abandoned it like a badly cooked lasagna and moved on to the next story with more action and less... corporate nonsense. 

And now, here I am, stuck in the very fanfic I gave up on because I couldn’t figure out what would happen next. Fantastic.

You sigh dramatically, rubbing your temples. Great. I’m in an unfinished fanfic where I don’t even know the plot. Awesome. Totally normal day.

Just as you’re contemplating throwing yourself out the window—or at least hiding in the bathroom for the next eight hours—you decide to take a break. Maybe you can sneak out for five minutes and regroup. Get your chaotic brain together before CEO Bucky calls you for something ridiculous like filing his taxes or fetching his tenth coffee of the day.

You push away from your desk and stand up, trying to be stealthy. But just as you make your way toward the door—

“Hey, you.”

You freeze mid-step. Oh for fuck sake.

Slowly, like a guilty child caught sneaking out of class, you turn around. There’s CEO Bucky, leaning against his office doorframe, arms crossed like some kind of modern-day Greek god. His suit is perfectly tailored, every inch of him screams I own this place, and of course, he’s got that little smirk that makes your brain short-circuit.

He gestures with two fingers, that damn lazy motion that makes you feel like you’ve been summoned by royalty. 

“Come here.”

Your eye twitches. 

“I have a name, you know,” you say before you can stop yourself, crossing your arms defensively. It’s completely out of character for the version of yourself that you wrote into this fanfic, but your chaotic brain can’t help it.

Bucky pauses, clearly not expecting you to talk back. His eyebrows lift slightly, and then that smirk grows even wider, like you’ve just amused him. 

“Do you now?”

You groan internally. Oh crap. 

But now you’re stuck, because CEO Bucky Barnes, in all his smug glory, is eyeing you like a predator who’s just found something interesting to toy with.

“Yeah, last I checked,” you say, now fully committed to the chaos as you shuffle closer, arms still crossed like you’re trying to shield yourself from the intense vibes he’s putting off. “It’s not ‘hey you,’ it’s Y/N.”

He chuckles softly, leaning back slightly and watching you approach. “Y/N, huh? Interesting.”

You squint at him, already regretting your entire life. “Why is that interesting?”

He shrugs, still smirking. “I don’t know. I like ‘hey you.’ It fits you.”

You resist the urge to scream into the void. “Well, I’m taking a break, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Break?” He interrupts, his smirk not fading. “You’ve been here what... five minutes?”

You open your mouth to argue, but the way he’s looking at you—like he knows exactly how to push your buttons—makes your brain scramble. 

“I need to regroup. You know... organize my thoughts. Get my head in the game.”

His smirk widens as he watches you try to squirm out of the conversation. “Right. Organize your thoughts. Good luck with that.”

You blink at him, genuinely baffled by how this man manages to look so smug while saying so little. 

“This is why I scrapped this fanfic,” you mutter, too quiet for him to hear. “Why did I write him like this? All smirky and... and haughty and... ugh.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly noticing your muttering, but chooses not to comment.

“You’re really something,” you grumble under your breath as you turn and make a beeline for the door, desperate for some air.

You can feel his eyes on you as you walk away, and just before you leave the room, you hear him chuckle again. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Don’t get lost on your... regrouping.”

You grit your teeth, giving him a tight smile as you exit the office. “Sure. I’ll be regrouping. Totally.”

The moment you’re out of his sight, you let out a groan, practically melting against the hallway wall. How do I survive this fanfic?

And then, like a jolt of lightning, you remember why you gave up on this fanfic. Because Bucky Barnes as a smug, controlling CEO is TOO MUCH!

You smack your forehead, slumping down the wall. “I am so screwed.”

× × × ×

You return to your desk, a glass of water in hand, mentally cursing your decision to ever write CEO Bucky Barnes the way you did. Smug, intense, and probably the reason for my inevitable breakdown. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you plop into your chair. 

I can do this. I survived getting my ass beat up by action Bucky. I just have to survive the day. No more weirdness.

But, of course, life—or rather, your fanfic—has other plans.

As you sit down and try to focus, you hear the sound of high heels clicking against the floor, getting closer. You glance up, and there she is: Bucky’s soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. The character you completely forgot about when you abandoned this fanfic. She turns on her heel, clearly satisfied with her silent insult, but something inside you snaps. 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out in a deep, gangster voice, “Da fuCK you lookin’ at, Discount Cruella?”

She freezes mid-step, as if you’ve just slapped her with a fish. Her head turns slowly, like she can’t quite believe you just called her that. You add a taunting little eyebrow raise, tipping your chin up like you’re daring her to respond.

What the hell just came out of my mouth? You blink, stunned by your own voice, but you don’t back down. Commit, commit!

She glares, her jaw tightening. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you heard me,” you say, leaning back in your chair, sipping your water. “You struttin’ around like some budget Bond villain? What, you think I’m intimidated by your off-brand designer knock-offs? Please. I’ve seen scarier outfits at Walmart.”

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she turns with a dramatic huff and stalks off, her heels clicking furiously against the floor.

You lean back even further, casually waving after her. “Yeah, you better walk away, Dollar shop Donatella!” 

She disappears down the hallway, leaving you feeling victorious, if not a little surprised at your own audacity.

You take another sip of water and mutter to yourself, “I swear, this fanfic is making me brave... or stupid. Probably stupid.”

As you’re mentally patting yourself on the back for that little victory, you hear footsteps approaching again. You look up, expecting it to be her again, but nope—it’s Bucky. 

“Hey, you,” he says, that smooth, infuriating voice drawing your attention.

You roll your eyes but try to act casual. “Yeah, what now, boss?”

Before he can answer, you take a sip of water—probably the worst-timed sip of your life.

Bucky’s just about to say something, but the sight of him leaning casually against your desk, all brooding and smug and tall and sexy, makes you choke on your water. You try to hold it in, but before you can stop it—

PFFFFTTTTT!!!

You spit your water all over him. Like, right in his face.

Time freezes. Bucky blinks, water dripping from his face and his perfectly styled hair. He looks stunned, as if this is the first time in his entire smug CEO existence that someone has dared to water-blast him.

You freeze, your eyes wide in horror. “Oh. My. God.”

Bucky wipes his face with the back of his hand, his expression unreadable as he stares at you. You panic, leaping out of your chair and rushing over to him, grabbing the nearest paper towel in an attempt to salvage the situation.

“I am so, so sorry!” you babble, dabbing furiously at his face, then his shirt, then—oh no, his chest. Holy crap, his chest.

You keep muttering in a frantic whisper. “Oh my God, his muscles. I’m touching the muscles—holy crap, I am such a perv. This is inappropriate workplace behavior—so much muscle—why did I write him this way?” 

You write every Bucky character this way.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, watching you with a mix of amusement and confusion as you continue to pat him down like he’s a spilled drink. 

“Are you... okay?”

You blink up at him, paper towel still in hand, your brain short-circuiting. 

“I—uh—what? Yeah! Totally fine. Just, you know, touching muscles—I mean—patting you down! Because of the water! That I... spat in your face. Oh my God, I spat water in your face.”

Bucky chuckles, his smirk back in full force. “Well, this is definitely a first.”

“I’m going to die of embarrassment now. Please, just... let me dissolve into the floor.” You groan, backing away from him with the soaked paper towel in hand. 

Bucky, now completely unfazed by the whole situation, shrugs and gives you a half-smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just water.”

You stare at him, still mortified, and mutter under your breath, “I hate this fanfic.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Instead of heading back to his office, though, he leans in slightly, his gaze flicking down to your water glass and then back to your face.

You freeze. Oh God, why is he leaning in? Your brain is already preparing to short-circuit again. What now? Is he about to call me out on my water-spitting habits? Does he smell fear?!

“Actually…” Bucky says, his voice dropping, his smirk now in full dangerous levels of smirkiness mode. “There was something else.”

Your heart skips a beat. Oh no. Oh no, not again.

“Yeah?” you squeak, gripping your water glass like it’s your last hope of survival. “What’s that?”

He leans in a fraction closer, his eyes practically dancing with mischief. 

“I was going to ask you for the Henderson file, but now I’m thinking...” He pauses dramatically, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “Maybe you should get me a towel first.”

Your jaw drops. “A towel?!”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, not missing a beat, “since you’re so keen on throwing water at people.”

You blink at him, utterly mortified. “I didn’t throw it! I just—ugh, fine! I’ll get you a towel.”

He grins wider. “Good. And then... you can grab the Henderson file.”

“I’m not your assistant and your personal dry cleaner!” You groan, turning to leave, but of course, you have to get in one last grumble.

Bucky watches you, highly amused. “You sure? You seemed pretty eager to pat me down a minute ago.”

You freeze mid-step, spinning around with wide eyes.

“Oh my God, I—I wasn’t—I was just trying to—you know what? Never mind!” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m getting the damn towel!”

You rush off toward the break room, muttering under your breath the entire way. “This fanfic is literally out to humiliate me. Why did I write him like this? Why, past me, WHY?”

Behind you, you swear you hear Bucky chuckle softly, and it only makes you walk faster.

× × × ×

Y/N, now on a mission to redeem herself after the whole spitting water fiasco, rushes back to her desk with the Henderson file in one hand and a towel in the other. No more screw-ups, you tell yourself. No more embarrassing moments. I’m going to act like a professional human being for once.

You take a deep breath before stepping into Bucky’s office. He’s seated behind his desk, looking as composed as ever, typing away on his computer. Cool, calm, collected, you remind yourself. You carefully place the file on his desk, and then with way too much flourish, dramatically whip out the towel.

“Your towel, sir!” you announce like you’re a butler in an old movie, bowing slightly for extra effect.

Bucky glances up from his computer, one eyebrow raised. “Thanks... I think?”

You nod seriously, trying to keep a straight face. 

“Only the finest hand towels for the World’s Wettest CEO,” you add, clearly not able to stop yourself from clowning.

Bucky’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s definitely a flicker of amusement in his eyes. 

“You know, usually assistants don’t mock their boss right after spitting water on them.”

Before you can fire back with something clever, he stands up and—without breaking eye contact—starts stripping off his jacket.

Your eyes widen to saucer-size. Oh SHIT. Look at those biceps, I bet he could crack an egg with those.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you blurt, taking a cautious step back. Your eyes dart to the door, your brain immediately thinking of the worst possible scenario.

Bucky casually shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto his chair, and takes a slow step toward you. His sleeves are rolled up just enough to show off those forearms—and, holy hell, is it getting hotter in here?

You gulp, stumbling back another step. “Why are you coming closer? What—no, don’t come any closer!”

But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he smirks as he undoes the top button of his shirt, rolling up his sleeves even higher as if he’s about to give you some kind of private show.

Your brain completely short-circuits. 

“I will call the police!” you shout dramatically, pointing a shaky finger at him. “Don’t make me do it! I have a phone!”

Bucky takes another step, clearly enjoying watching you unravel.

“Stop!” you squeak, backing up so fast that you almost trip over your own feet. “I swear, if you come any closer—Please! I’m a virgin!”

Wait. WHAT? Did that actually just come out of my mouth?

Bucky stops in his tracks, his brow furrowing in pure confusion. His smirk falters, and he blinks at you like you’ve lost your mind—which, honestly, you might have. 

“Wait, what?”

You slap your hands over your mouth. 

“Not... not really!” you blurt, mortified, feeling your face turn a thousand shades of red. “I just—what—I mean, I don’t know why I said that! Forget I said that! WHY DID I SAY THAT?”

Bucky stares at you, clearly torn between laughing and being genuinely confused by your outburst. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You point at him again, eyes still wide. “You were stripping! I thought—I don’t know what I thought! I thought you were about to—look, can you just—stop doing whatever it is you’re doing?”

“I was just getting comfortable. You’re the one making this weird.” He finally gives in and lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. 

“I’M MAKING THIS WEIRD?!” you shout, nearly flailing in disbelief. “You just started stripping in your office like we’re in some kind of romance novel!” Well. . .technically. . .

Bucky shrugs, clearly amused by your total meltdown. “I wasn’t even halfway through, and you’re already threatening to call the cops.”

“I panicked!” you cry, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “What do you expect when you come at me like some... some walking smirk with biceps?”

“Relax, hey you, I’m not gonna bite.” He takes one more step toward you, the grin on his face infuriatingly smug. 

“Right... okay... great. But, uh, no more sudden movements, okay? I don’t think my dignity can take another hit today.” You’re still staring at him, pulse racing, trying to get your heart back to normal.

Bucky, still smirking, unbuttons his shirt completely, slipping it off and tossing it aside as if the entire interaction hasn’t completely short-circuited your brain. Now, he’s shirtless, and your brain is screaming 

NOPE, NOPE, yes NOPE.

But he doesn’t stop there. Bucky takes another step closer, clearly enjoying the absolute chaos unfolding on your face. He gestures toward the towel still clutched in your hand. 

"Since you’re so eager to help, why don’t you pat me dry?”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?!”

He tilts his head, completely unfazed by your reaction. “You spat water on me. Now it’s only fair you clean up the mess.”

You clutch the towel tighter, staring at him like he’s grown a second head. 

“Do you not have arms? You seem perfectly capable of drying yourself off with all these...” you gesture wildly to his bare chest, your voice rising in pitch, “...muscles!”

“I’m not saying I can’t. I just thought you might want to.” Bucky chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Your face is practically on fire at this point. “Oh, I’m sure you’re more than qualified to handle it yourself!” you say, thrusting the towel toward him. “I’ll just—uh—get you some new clothes! Right?”

Bucky shrugs, clearly still enjoying your mortification. “Sure. Or you can keep patting me down. Your call.”

“I WILL NOT BE PATTING ANYTHING,” you declare, your voice an octave too high as you spin around and dash toward the door. “I’ll get your clothes!”

“Take your time.” As you stumble out of the office, you can hear Bucky’s soft chuckle behind you. 

You groan internally, your face still burning as you make your escape. 

“This is getting worse and worse,” you mutter under your breath, gripping the door handle a little too tight. “I miss action Bucky. At least he wasn’t... shirtless and smug! God, why is this happening to me?”

You rush out the door, praying for some kind of divine intervention—or at least for your brain to stop short-circuiting every time you’re within ten feet of his ridiculous muscles.

You blink, and suddenly the world shifts beneath your feet. One second you’re in the office, still mentally head-slamming yourself for your awkward slip-up, and the next, you’re standing in front of two massive, intimidating double doors.

You blink again, confused. “Wha—What the—Wait... where the hell am I?”

Your eyes scan your surroundings, and it finally hits you—you’re in some fancy penthouse building, way too expensive-looking to be anywhere near your normal, boring life. And then, just as you’re about to piece things together, glowing words flash above your head:

Business Proposal, Part 4: Sick Leave

You stare up at the words in disbelief, slowly lowering your water bottle. It went up to Part Four?!

“That’s new,” you mutter, looking around as if someone’s watching you. “Why does this feel like some kind of twisted game show?”

Before you can contemplate further, a voice—loud, deep, dramatic, and all-knowing (totally not Bucky’s voice)— suddenly echoes around you, narrating your life like it’s the season finale of a telenovela.

“It’s been a few days since Bucky’s break-up with Yasmine, and Y/N has been very worried—”

“No, I’m not,” you cut off the voice, raising your hand like you’re silencing an annoying ad.

The narrator pauses, then comes back, clearly annoyed. “Yes, you are.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Nope. Not worried. Zero percent concerned. I barely even remember her name—Yasmine, was it? See? Forgettable.”

There’s an exasperated sigh from the unseen narrator. 

“Yes. You are. Bucky’s been distant, and you can’t help but wonder if this is affecting him more than he’s letting on—”

“Oh my God, I literally do not care,” you interrupt again, dramatically rolling your eyes toward the sky, wondering if you could just teleport out of this madness. “Can I at least care about something that doesn’t sound like a rejected soap opera plot?”

“You do care,” the voice insists, the irritation building. “You’ve been wracking your brain about how to comfort him, wondering if now is the right time to—"

You wave both hands in the air like you’re directing traffic. “Nope. Absolutely not. I’m not showing him anything. If anything, I need a vacation. A spa day. A break from all this fanfic insanity.”

There’s a very heavy pause, like the narrator’s deciding whether to keep talking or just yeet themselves into the void to escape you. 

Then, with maximum exasperation, the voice finally asks, “Do you ever just shut up?”

You gasp, clutching your chest in mock horror. “Wow! Rude! Is that how you treat all your characters? Is this why all my stories keep getting abandoned halfway through? Is this your fault?”

There’s a very, very tired sigh. “You do know this is your story, right?”

You blink, then scratch your head. “Oh yeah...”

You can practically feel the narrator rolling their eyes, probably contemplating retirement.

“Fine,” the narrator says, now with the exhausted tone of someone who just ran a marathon through an obstacle course of idiocy. “You’re not worried. But you are here at Bucky’s penthouse, and he’s expecting you. And deep down—”

“I literally do not care!” you yell, flailing your arms like a cartoon character.

The narrator groans again, even louder this time. “Why do I even bother?”

“Honestly? I’ve been wondering the same thing,” you mutter, finally stepping forward to push open the ridiculously huge doors. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s next? Is Bucky going to burst into song? Or is this the part where I accidentally knock over some expensive art?”

“For the love of—Just get your ass inside!” the narrator snaps, sounding like they’re one sarcastic comment away from quitting entirely.

You pause, your hand hovering over the doorknob, and then snort. “Wow. Testy, aren’t we? Someone needs a narrator spa day.”

There’s a long, drawn-out sigh that echoes in the hallway, clearly done with your antics.

“I’m just saying,” you add with a shrug, “I’ve been through a lot today. I feel like a little sass is warranted.” You push open the door with an exaggerated flourish, muttering, “I swear, if Bucky’s standing there with some dramatic lighting or a tragic backstory about Yasmine, I’m out.”

The narrator doesn’t respond, probably because they’re off somewhere wishing they had another job. You step through the doors, bracing yourself for whatever ridiculous fanfic nonsense is about to hit you next.

You step through the doors, fully expecting some serious businessman vibes from Bucky. Maybe sitting behind a giant mahogany desk, brooding over paperwork, casually looking out at the city skyline like the high-powered CEO you wrote him to be.

But no. Instead, you find Bucky on the couch, wrapped in what can only be described as the world's most excessive blanket burrito. 

His hair’s a mess, his nose is red, and—oh my God—he’s holding a mug like it’s the last ounce of warmth in the universe. Surrounding him? A small fortress of tissues and cold medicine.

This is not CEO behavior!

His head slowly turns toward you, his eyes slightly puffy, and you swear there’s a pitiful sparkle in them. He sniffs dramatically, like a rom-com hero in his darkest hour. 

“Y/N?”

Your brain stutters. “I—uh—what?”

“I think... I’m dying,” he whispers hoarsely.

You blink at him, completely dumbfounded. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It’s the “sick love interest” trope. Your life has officially hit peak cliché.

“Dying?” you repeat, hands on your hips. “Aren’t you, like, a super soldier? And a CEO? You manage hostile takeovers and boardroom battles, and now you’re... this?”

Bucky sniffles again, managing to look both miserable and somehow, annoyingly attractive. He shifts under the mountain of blankets and croaks out.

“I’ve never been this sick in my life.”

“You have a cold. A cold.” You cross your arms, staring down at the pathetic excuse of a man swaddled like a sad burrito. 

He coughs dramatically, like the very act is draining his soul. 

“It feels like... more than that.” His eyes meet yours, shining with exaggerated sorrow. “Can you... can you make me some tea?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. This man is running an entire company, and right now, I’m supposed to be... what? His nanny?

“You’re serious?” you ask, incredulous.

Bucky nods weakly, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. 

“With honey. And lemon,” he rasps, voice full of the weight of his tragic illness. “Please.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes so hard you might strain something, and head to the kitchen. 

“What happened to you, man? You’re supposed to be intimidating! A force to be reckoned with! What is this?”

He sneezes loudly from the couch, followed by a pitiful groan. “I’m emotionally compromised.”

You pause mid-step. “You’re emotionally compromised... because you have a cold?”

Another tragic sniffle. “It’s more than a cold. It’s the end.”

You fill the kettle, trying not to laugh. “The end? Of what? Your dignity?”

From the couch, Bucky coughs again—this time sounding even more over-the-top dramatic, like he’s trying out for a role in a period drama. 

“I think it’s... fatal.”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable,” you mutter, pouring the hot water into a mug, stirring in honey and lemon. “How are you the same guy who intimidates boardrooms? This is embarrassing.”

Carrying the tea back to him, you set it on the table in front of him with a flourish. “Here’s your tea, Mr. CEO. I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You’re... my hero.” He takes the mug with both hands, looking up at you with wide, grateful eyes.

You deadpan at him. “If you expect me to wipe your nose, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Bucky takes a sip of the tea, then stares at you like you just saved his entire existence. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You sigh, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, staring at him like a tired parent. “Is this what rich people do? Get over-the-top colds and drag innocent assistants into their melodrama?”

“It’s not just a cold. I’m suffering.” He pouts, snuggling deeper into his blanket cocoon, clearly loving every second of the attention. 

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m suffering too, buddy.”

Bucky coughs again, though you notice it’s less dramatic this time. “You’d do this for me, though... right?”

“Do what? Be your unpaid nursemaid?”

“Would you?” Bucky flashes a smirk, though it’s weak and slightly pathetic due to his current burrito state. 

You sigh, feeling like you’ve officially reached rock bottom. “Sure, why not. What’s next? Should I bring you soup and read you a bedtime story?”

His eyes light up. “Could you bring me soup?”

You throw your hands in the air, standing up in mock surrender. “Oh my God, I walked right into that one.”

From the couch, Bucky manages to look even more pitiful. “Please?”

“I swear, if this turns into a romantic montage, I’m jumping out the window.” You groan dramatically, heading back to the kitchen. 

Somewhere, the narrator’s voice hums, clearly enjoying this too much. "And so, Y/N found herself drawn into a reluctant role of caretaker, tending to Bucky's every need—"

“OH MY GOD, NO!” you shout to the ceiling. “Not this trope! Why is this happening?!”

Bucky, now fully alert, blinks at you. "Who... are you shouting at?”

The narrator sighs dramatically. “You’re really ruining the ambiance.”

Bucky's eyes narrow, looking around the room as if someone's going to pop out of the walls. "Seriously, who are you talking to?”

“GOOD,” you snap, ladling soup into a bowl. “Ambiance is overrated.”

Bucky frowns, staring at you like you've completely lost it. "You're... really freaking me out right now." 

You mutter under your breath, "Join the club, pal.”

As you return with the soup, you place it in front of Bucky, who looks up at you with the sad puppy eyes again. “Thanks for taking care of me, Y/N.”

“This is my life now, isn’t it? Fanfic sick-nurse tropes and soup.” You groan, staring at the ceiling.

The narrator hums again. “Exactly.”

You dramatically flop down on the couch next to Bucky. “Next time, just write me into an action scene. I miss action Bucky.”

“Action Bucky’s tired. Let CEO Bucky have his moment.”

You groan again, burying your face in a pillow. This fanfic is literally trying to kill me.

[witheredoffherwitch]

Listen... it may be a bit too soon to speak on this, but it needs to be said: the BIGGEST flaw in Hotd's season 2 was how House Targaryen was reduced to a bunch of charmless imbeciles. It's no surprise that viewers are starting to lose interest in this show. I mean, is it really worth waiting 2 years for a new season at this rate? From Daenerys' powerful role in GoT to this disappointing mess? Dragon oversaturation coupled with entitled inbred fucks who have nothing going for them except for their killer face cards. The only decent characters left are the mad psychos like Aegon and Aemond, but of course the show wants us to root for the boring "good guys." And don't even get me started on how badly they've nerfed Daemon in season 2 😭 Redemption arc my ass, they've sucked all the charisma out of him while he's stuck being a do-gooder. As for the others, well, useless, irrelevant, and just plain boring pretty much sums them up. And that, my friends, is why this show is a hot mess.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Just wanted to tell you that pitch fefnep is real as fuck and I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.

Are there any other pitch ships you seriously live for?

My big one is Eridan <3< Calliope (#callidan let's make it happen)! There's a lot of karmic stuff linking them together - I'm not going to say it ALL here, but suffice to mention that cherubs are naturally attracted pitch-wise to people who resemble the half they lost in predomination, and Eridan literally made his username "cal" (caligula, so it's even 8 letters, lmao).

Personality-wise, though, fully-character-developed Eridan and Calliope are like a match made in hell. Eridan is violent, obsessed with murder, deliberately likes to style himself as an arrogant, evil despot, says a lot of slurs, is a complete moron who doesn't listen to people but believes in stuff very very strongly anyways, and, assuming he's finished his character arc, somehow still manages to be a force for good. This makes him similar to Caliborn in a lot of ways (Hussie even calls Eridan a sort of proto-Caliborn MULTIPLE times in the book commentary), and Calliope would have a lot to get infuriated by, especially since that last point would give Eridan that "i hate everything about you, BUT..." factor that makes a pitch relationship work.

OTOH, Calliope gets super fucking smug when she starts winning, Eridan would 100% see her as a poser wizard (who needs to load their MAGIC WAND with BULLETS????) as well as a poser troll. She would also definitely adopt a stance of "every life is precious," and already displayed compassion and forgiveness to a dangerous degree wrt Caliborn, and all of this would probably piss Eridan off. Also, Eridan is easy, and the fact that Calliope is actually willing to entertain him in pitch at all is probably enough to get him to date her in blackrom all by itself. LBR, all it really takes to date Eridan is just being willing to date Eridan. This is both a low and high bar to clear.

Given that murdering and genocide-obsessing literally kept his friends alive long enough to play the game, I just can't see Eridan ever becoming a pacifist, or even coming to see murder as a bad thing (even if he'd feel bad about and apologize for murdering his friends specifically).

It'd also be pretty bad if the Hope player (ideals, convictions, faith, and also turning fake stuff real) had wrong beliefs, so Eridan's character arc wouldn't so much see his obsession with murder dropped so much as having it reoriented, his focus becoming "I care about my friends and will do anything to make sure they succeed in creating a better world. I'd kill for them. I will kill for them. I am going to kill for them."

He's still kind of a token evil teammate as a result - the guy who pipes up at every town hall to go, "y'know, murder is on the table. I'm not saying that I want to do it or even that we should, but I'm just reminding you that it's a tool in our arsenal, and something our enemies might resort to" as well as the debbie downer who reminds people that meat comes from animals that used to have families.

Plus, given that his hipster stuff ties in with being a Hope player - the staunch and firm beliefs in there being "better" stuff, the unshakeable conviction and dedication toward being anti-mainstream, and the fact that it's one of his few genuine interests besides magic - that trait actually gets exacerbated in lieu of the fake pro-empire, dualscar-emulating stuff he was doing before.

So, basically, Eridan given the full redemption arc + character development combo would spit out an Eridan that's MORE annoying than he was before? Because, like, not only is he a turbo pretentious hipster now, but he's also the "heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made an excellent point" guy. He's comfortable in his own skin, no longer trying to be something he isn't. Instead, with absolute, non-negotiable, unshakeable faith in himself, he is 100% of what he is.

"What he is," of course, being a neurotic, murder-obsessed, low-empathy lunatic with zero social skills, a pretentious hipster, a cringe-ass wizard who won't shut up about it and has no self-awareness of how cringe he's being, still 100% aggro 100% of the time, and an obsessive simp. In a very leftist/existentialist way, he would fully own up to having done horrible things, and being willing to do them again, should the circumstances call for them. "Shameless" is probably a good word to use, here.

Meanwhile, Calliope is genuinely well-meaning as fuck, even if she doesn't fully grasp things like "humans going trickster mode is bad actually" and that her fascination/obsession with the trolls and kids as "characters" still borders on dehumanizing.

Still, it's clear that she operates from a place of love and admiration, and given a lease on life free from her brother and surrounded by friends, I do genuinely believe Calliope's arc culminates in her being the embodiement of the ideas that we must be good to each other, kind to each other, loving to each other, and trust and care for each other. After all, she has it within her; her alternate self was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of several universes.

Still, Calliope as this cosmic, karmic force of good - what the comic ultimately exonorates and treats as something worthy of protection and rescue - sets her up against Eridan ideologically really well. Calliope represents "we must do good" in the most optimistic sense - people will be kind back if you are kind to them, and to create a loving society, a caring society, we must care about others, we must believe in others.

Meanwhile, Eridan would represent "we must do good" in the most dark and pessimistic sense - we must be prepared to sacrifice for each other, we hold duties to one another, we must be our best selves because we owe it to each other, we must not accept complacency, we must be ever-vigilant of our worst tendencies, we must take responsibility. No society exists without sacrifice, no revolution is without bloodshed, and nothing is ever worth fighting for that won't eventually need to be fought for - and who will do the fighting? The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools, etc.

Like how pitch FefNep works for me on this axis of pragmatism vs. idealism - Feferi and Nepeta are both fundamentally duking it out over what it means to create and administer a society, with Nepeta representing unbridled freedom, while Feferi brings to the table controlling restraint. Neither is fully correct on their own - Nepeta is anarchic, and so her ideals are inherently unstable, while Feferi is fascistic, which can cause great harm. It's Hegalian dialectics. Thesis, antithesis, and their union/rivalry is the synthesis into a greater nuanced balance between the two.

Callidan works for me in the same way: Calliope and Eridan are both fundamentally aiming to create a world that's good, and Calliope says, we must be kind, while Eridan says, we must be cruel. They're both correct, and both have an ideal that can't stand on its own. Calliope's hardline stance of pure compassion lets bad apples take advantage, while Eridan's hardline stance of sacrifice and personal responsibility leads to misery and unfulfillment. Together, they strike a harmony.

And also they'd be so funny together. Like

UU: i believe that in order to create a kind and beaUtifUl world, we mUst be kind to each other. we mUst believe in each other no matter what. there is no fUtUre if it is not boUnd in love, trUst, and empathy.

CA: yeah fuckin right dont tell me you actually BELIEVVE that codswwallop those ideals sure held up wwhen wwe MURDERED THE EVVER LOVVIN SHIT OUTTA YOUR BROTHER

CA: reality aint so fuckin simple evvery societys got sacrifices need doin evvil bastards need killin and somebodys got to pull the trigger

UU: i swear, speaking with yoU is aboUt as pleasant as a sandpaper facial.

UU: and yet i continUe to do so, and do yoU know why? it's becaUse i do, in fact, believe in what i said, and i will, in fact, continUe to treat yoU with *love and compassion* despite yoUr repeated efforts to throw mine into the bin!!!!!!!!!!!

CA: i nevver asked for your so called lovve and compassion skullhag and i dont bloody need it either

UU: well, that's jUst too bad, isn't it? poor eridan, yoU were treated so poorly on alternia, and now yoU're angry and Upset all the time. my heart aches for yoUr plight!

CA: ill showw you a flippin PLIGHT scumskull meet me at the usual place

UU: <kisses> ~3U

UU's computer exploded!

uranianUmbra [UU] began cheering caligulasAquarium [CA]

UU: STOP DOING THAT.

Also... they're both British... so it's British on British violence... IDK that personally really elevates it for me

[infinityroom]

I'm so sad to see this go. You created a wonderful story.

As for questions,

What happened to Tango? Why does his ear endermite have an eye? Would we ever be able to save him? What would a Tango redemption arc look like?

(Sorry if that's too many questions. I am INVESTED in this plot.)

I love Tango so much, I really wished for him to find some peace at the end. Tango's a mess. When he gets mad his anger just doesn't want to die down, he's gonna burn people and then feel bad he did so. The room never got to eat those strong emotions before he found the endermites and being bitten stifled his disappearance. At that point he was still not on the murderous path, he wanted to just get out and get Mumbo out too! He didn't fully get what was going on, or maybe he was in super denial about what was happening. Mumbo had his realization about it when Tango told him that no, Grian did not call for help outside, in fact he just dropped Tango into the same room, and wasn't Mumbo outside just a few days ago? How could it have been months? Mumbo refused to leave his chair while he grappled with understanding everything and Tango went off to find a solution. And he did. At some point, he managed to get out of the room. but maybe as a side effect of being turned into an endermite or maybe because of his long stay in the room itself, he couldn't stand the overworld, everything was too loud, too brigt and too overwhelming. He spawned into an unfamiliar shopping district and overwhelmed and hurt he dug a hole and hid underground. Only to fall in the newly constructed Decked out. In season 7.

Specifically, he ended up there when Tango, actual Tango was explaining decked out to Bdubs, I lost the link to the episode but i had it at some point. Our Tango, our messed up bug Tango, just.. listened to his copy speak. The whole explanation of Decked Out filled him with so much excitement, it was just the most beautiful thing! He'd missed redstone and creating and everything could be alright again- Then the game started, and every single redstone click and bell ringing made Tango's head explode with pain. He ripped out one of the bells just to shut it and escaped.

That's when it clicked into our Tango's head. He was not the real Tango anymore, was he? How could he be Tango when there was already one around and when he could barely exist in the overworld it seemed? When he couldn't do the things that used to define him. Was he just a copy? What was he? At that point he crawled back to the infinity room. It just so happened that False saw him reappear in the room, she wasn't completely lost yet, despite the room having been eating at her for a long while. She understood that Tango got out and wouldn't let him go without being let out herself.

Tango didn't want that, didn't want for her to have the same horrible experience he just had, but he wasn't able to explain that, and even if he did, she just wanted to leave. So he panicked and attacked her with his endermites, only to feel horrible immediately after. Then he hid away in some corner of the room. Only him and his mites. Then his sadness turned back to anger toward the only person he could blame for everything. Grian. There were still a few Grian's running around in the room and he took his anger out on them, not that it would fix anything but being angry and taking revenge makes him feel more real. Maybe that's what he is since he's not "Tango" anymore, he's just angry and vengeful. He tried being friends with Mumbo still, he gave him the bell he ripped out from decked out. That ended poorly. He respects the little hiding place the iskalls made from him, he wont bother them. He's so sorry for what he did to False.

[kabartmatzu]

I wanted to redesing and rewrite Miraculous for a while. Then thought why not share my ideas so here is Chloé Bourgeois. (Duddeee I forgor the wingss?? 💀)

In my rewriting, power system is different. I will explain it on my further posts. Here I want to tell you more about my version of Chloé aka Queen Bee.

Chloé’s character is similar to show version. (First two seasons) Mommy issues, struggling with social relationships, bully… The difference is I keep the redemption arc :D In my version Ladybug and Chat Noir get their miraculouses when they were in high school. But show will take place at their twenties when they are in university. We will have flashbacks about high school years and how they got their miraculouses. Chloé also gets her miraculous in high school but it will be taken from her by Ladybug. This events will be similar to show too. Chloé won’t reveal her identity to everyone but will do wrong things to fix and seem like a hero. Her plan was to impress her mother as Queen Bee so later she can reveal her identity to her and make her mother proud of her for once :’) (Damn you Audrey)

Her only friend was Adrian for her whole childhood (same goes for Adrian) thanks to Audrey’s business with Gabriel. I thought her whole feelings towards Adrian is platonic but in her high school times she thought she has romantic feelings towards him because she never had friends other than Adrian and never had romantic interest. That’s why she will be clingy towards Adrian in high school.

In last year of high school after Ladybug took Bee miraculous from her, Marinette will try to fix her relationship with Audrey like in the show but it won’t work and Audrey probably say some really heartbreaking things and this will make Chloé angrier. She will blame Marinette and will be ruder to everyone (espacially to Marinette) at school, Sabrina will dump her (yaaay), Ladybug won’t trust her about an akuma attack (there are no akuma in my story tho but i want you to know what i am referring to rn) and Adrian will talk with her about her actions and how he doesn’t want to keep being friends with her anymore if she continues. She will get akumatized too and hurt her teacher (forgor her name) and Sabrina. She will collapse and leave Paris. I am not sure where she will go, probably i will make her go another country at Europe.

She will change her contacts so Adrian won’t be able to reach her. She will go therapy there and will be emotionally better. I feel like she would study child psychology maybe become a teacher or something. I also thought she will take self defense classes too since Ladybug told that she doesn’t have enough experience on fighting and they ve been getting educated for years to hold a miraculous, when she took bee miraculous from her. ( thats a lie tho it has only been a few months not years lmao)

After 2 or 3 years she will return to Paris (when show takes time at)for a few days just to see her father and apologize to Sabrina, Adrian and Marinette. I thought Sabrina won’t even wanna listen her. So she will decide not to see Adrian because she will think he doesn’t want to see her either. Then she will find herself in the middle of akuma attack. She will see where the akumatized item is. Ladybug and Chatnoir will be surprised to see her there of course but they are in the middle of fight. Chloé will try to tell where the akuma is but Ladybug will immediately tell Chatnoir to take her somewhere safe and he will. Chloé will tell Chatnoir that she knows how to defeat the akuma and she is sorry for being a bad holder back than. Adrian is so confused seeing her friend after years of course but can’t say anything (you know ,secret identity 🤷). Akuma will be defeated and he will go to Chloé to thank.

So then she will go to bakery hoping Marinette will be there in university break and hoping at least Marinette would like to listen her like back then. And as she hoped, Marinette wants to listen her. I might make a comic with this scene later. Right now I don’t have the words to describe the dialogue in here. But it will be about how she came to apologize and she is now a different person but how she doesn’t expect to be forgiven since Sabrina didn’t. And I thought Marinette would hug her seeing how in the edge she is and she might cry :’’(

I know I know it is so plane but i am not good at writing. I just tell what my ideas are. It is not the end. I will write about what happens later but first I should make posts about other holders and power system. Powers are different in my version so story might be confusing without knowing them. Bee miraculous also has slightly a different power. So first I will tell about them. Then I might try harder and write the story better hehe.

About Zoe btw I don’t even know if I want her to exit lmaoo. No hate don’t get me wrong but she is not even a character in the show. I am not sure what to do about her yet.

Thank you for reading, I appreciate that. 🪐🌟

=====Turkish translate======

Bir süredir Mucize’yi tekrar tasarlamak ve yazmak istiyordum. Kendi kendime dedim ki neden fikirlerimi paylaşmayayım ve paylaşmaya karar verdim. Ta daa Chloé Bourgeois! ( kanatlarını çizmeyi unutmuşum ama çaktırmayın)

Benim alternatifimde güç sistemi farklı. İlerki postlarımda açıklayacağım. Burada daha çok benim tasarladığım Chloe’den diğer adıyla Kraliçe Arı’dan bahsetmek istiyorum.

Aslında Chloe’nin karakteri dizidekine yakın. (İlk iki sezondaki) Annesi ile sorunları, sosyal ilişkilerde sıkıntılar, zorba biri olması… Fark ise ‘redemtion arc’ ını çöpe atmadım. :D Benim versiyonumda Uğur Böceği ve Kara Kedi mucizelerini lise okurken alıyorlar ama hikaye üniversite yıllarında, yirmili yaşlarında geçiyor. Lise yıllarında yaşadıklarına arada ‘flashback’lerle değinmeyi düşünüyorum. Chloe de mucizesini lisede alıyor ancak Uğur Böceği ondan geri alıyor. Bu olaylar da dizidekine benziyor. Chloe kimliğini herkese açıklamak yerine önce Kraliçe Arı olarak annesini etkileyip sonra ona kimliğini açıklamayı düşünüyor. Böylelikle sonunda annesinin onunla gurur duyacağını düşünüyor. Dizideki gibi sorunlar çıkarıp sonra kahraman gibi davranıp insanları kurtarmış gibi gösteriyor kendisini.

Küçüklüğünde tek arkadaşı Adriandı. O da annesi Audrey’in Gabriel ile olan işi sayesinde. Aslında Adrian’a karşı tamamen platonik sevgi (arkadaş olarak seviyor yani karşılıksız sevgi anlamında değil) beslediğini düşünüyorum. Hiç bir zaman romantik hisleri olmadı ama Adrian’dan başka arkadaşı olmadığı için ve daha önce hiç romantik duygular hissetmediğinden Adrian’a olan duygularını romantik sevgi ile karıştırdığını düşünüyorum.

Lisenin son yılında Uğur Böceği, arı mucizesini ondan alıyor; Marinette Chloe’nin annesi ile olan ilişkisini düzeltmeye yardım ederken işler ters gidiyor ve Audrey, Chloe’ye kalp kırıcı şeyler söylüyor. Bu Chloe’yi ilerki günlerde daha agresif yapıyor, Marinette’i her zamankinden daha fazla aşağılayıp olanlar yüzünden onu suçluyor, Sabrina dayanamayıp onunla ilişkisini kesiyor (yürü be Sabrina), Uğur Böceği akuma saldırısı konusunda Chloe’ye güvenmiyor( akumalar benim versiyonumda yok ama şimdilik anlaşılmak için akuma diyeceğim) ve Adrian böyle biri olmaya devam ederse onunla arkadaş olmak istemediğini söylüyor. Bunların hepsi Chloe’nin duygusal olarak yıkılmasına hatta belki akumalanarak sevdiği insanlara, şu adını unuttuğum öğretmenleri ve belki Sabrina’ya, zarar vermesine yol açıyor. Tüm bunlar Chloe’nin Paris’ten ayrılarak başka bir Avrupa ülkesine gitmesiyle sonuçlanıyor.

Burda Chloe iletişim bilgilerini bile değiştiriyor ve Adrian dahil kimse ona ulaşamıyor. Terapi alıyor. Üniversitede çocuk psikolojisi okuyor belki de öğretmen olmak istiyor diye düşündüm. Hatta bazı dövüş sanatlarını da öğreniyor çünkü Uğur Böceği mucizeyi alırken ona yeterli savaş deneyimi olmadığını ve kendilerinin yıllardır eğitim aldığını söylüyor. ( Yalan tabii. Sadece bir kaç aydır çalışıyorlar yıllardır değil.)

2 ya da 3 yıl içinde ( hikayenin geçtiği zaman ) Paris’e dönüyor. Sadece bir kaç günlüğüne babasını görmeye; Sabrina, Adrian ve Marinette’den özür dilemeye geliyor. Sabrina onu dinlemek bile istemeyince Adrian’ın da aynı tepkiyi vereceğini düşündüğünden onu görmekten vazgeçiyor. Marinette’i görmeye giderken kendisini akuma saldırının ortasında buluyor ve Uğur Böceği ile Kara Kediye yardım etmeye çalışıyor. Kahramanlar Chloe’yi gördüklerine çok şaşırıyorlar ama savaşın tam ortasındalar bu yüzden Kara Kedi onu alıp daha güvenli bir yere götürüyor. Chloe, Kara Kedi’ye akumanın nerde olduğunu söylüyor ve önceden kötü bir kahraman olduğu için özür diliyor. Adrian eski arkadaşını gördüğüne çok mutlu oluyor tabii ama hiç bir şey söyleyemiyor çünkü gizli kimlik şeysinden. Akumayı yeniyorlar tabii ve Chloe ye teşekkür ediyor.

Daha sonra Chloe Marinette’ i görmeyi umarak pastanelerine gidiyor. Ve umduğu gibi Marinette orda oluyor. Burdaki sahne hakkında daha sonra bi çizgi roman yapmayı düşünüyorum şimdilik dialog kafamda tam değil ama basitçe Marinette’den özür diliyor, artık eskisi gibi olmadığını ama yine de Sabrina gibi affetmek zorunda olmadığını sadece farklı biri olduğunu bilmesini istediğini söylüyor. Burda Marinette’in ona sarılacağını düşündüm bu da yaşlarını zor tutan Chloe’yi ağlatacak.

Biliyorum biliyorum anlatımım aşırı düz ama yazmakta iyi değilim. Sadece kafamdaki fikirleri aktarıyorum. Bu son değil. Devamını yazacağım ama önce diğer Mucize kullanıcıları hakkında ve güç sistemi üzerine postlar yapmak istiyorum. Neleri değiştirdiğimi bilmeden hikayeyi anlamak zor olabilir. Yazım şeklimi de daha akıcı ve güzel hale getirmeye çalışacağım.

Zoe’yi sorarsanız onun hakkında ne yapacağımı henüz bilmiyorum. Onu hikayeye ekler miyim emin bile değilim. Açıkçası dizide hiç bir kişiliği olmayan bom boş bir karakter. O yüzden emin değilim.

Okuduğun için teşekkür ederim. 🪐🌟

[princeescaluswords]

Found Family?

In the last few days, I came across a really nice gifset celebrating Isaac, Erica and Boyd, but at the same time I was informed about someone arguing that Derek was a better alpha than Scott. I know that everyone loves to reconfigure the so-called Beta Trio into some sort of "found family" archetype and by doing so pretend that Derek Hale made these teenagers' lives better because they listened to him, but I feel it's important to remember that is not what happened.

First of all, the Beta Trio was not a Beta Trio; it was a Beta Quartet. Derek Hale bit four teenagers and when one turned out to be defective, he abandoned Jackson like a cruel dog owner dropping a sick puppy on the side of the highway so he didn't have to take care of him. "You've always been a snake, Jackson, just not the one we're looking for." Yeah, top-grade found-family parenting right there.

Second of all, they were soldiers, not family members. Members of the fandom may dislike -- and they do! -- when Scott yells at the New Hale Pack that Derek's just made them into a bunch of guard dogs, but they forget that that is functionally what they become. The first thing that Derek had them do was beat the crap out of Scott. Derek used Erica for espionage ("I have someone else in mind for you"). Then they kidnapped Stiles. Then they kidnapped Jackson. Then they tried to murder Lydia. Then they tried to murder Jackson.

There is exactly one scene where Boyd, Erica, or Isaac do something for themselves, and that's in Abomination (2x04) where Boyd and Erica attend the lacrosse game. "Derek isn't going to like this!" Erica warns.

Third and most importantly, Derek built a pack for his sake, not for theirs. Even if he did it because he was lonely, he still did it for himself. He watches Gerard declare war, he yells at Scott that this is what the Argents do, but he still goes ahead and recruits Isaac, Erica and Boyd. He also has no idea how to beat Gerard, which he literally says out loud after Peter explains that Gerard is winning. "Tell me something I don't know." He also knows the Alpha Pack is coming. Since the fandom likes to tell so much from glances, examine the look on his face when Boyd and Erica tell him they found another wolf pack in the forest. That's not surprise; that's fear. He wasn't prepared for the Alpha Pack yet, but he doesn't say anything but "You're not leaving; you're running." Once Boyd and Erica die, and once he can dump Isaac off on Scott, Derek never mentions any of them again.

This analysis is pretty harsh on Derek, but as I've always said, there's no need for a redemption arc if the character never does anything wrong. And as for why Scott is a better alpha, that's easy, too:

Scott didn't recruit. Of the thirteen Betas that Scott could be said to have over the course of the series and movie (Stiles, Derek, Allison, Isaac, Lydia, Kira, Malia, Liam, Mason, Hayden. Corey, Alec, and Eli), three of them were friends first (Stiles, Allison, and Kira), five of them joined out of admiration or were invested in what the pack was trying to do (Isaac, Lydia, Derek, Mason and Corey), and five of them were members rescued from peril (Malia, Liam, Hayden, Alec, and Eli). He didn't go looking for new members -- he found them, which actually makes it a found family.

Fandom should also compare how Scott treated Liam, the beta he didn't want to bite suffering from a mental disorder, with how Derek treated Jackson. The only time that Scott even hesitated to act as Liam's alpha was after Liam had beaten Scott to the point of death.

They were Scott's pack; they were his friends. Members of the fandom complain that Scott didn't train his pack or put the pack as a unit first. Absolutely. He didn't see them as soldiers. In Battlefield (2x11), when Stiles says he can't do anymore, Scott doesn't press him even though he needs all the help he can get. Scott doesn't want to bring Isaac with him to meet with Deucalion in Frayed (3x05). Liam doesn't have to be with them if he doesn't want to be in A Promise to the Dead (4x11). They hang out, they go to parties, they study like high schoolers are supposed to do. "While we're trying not to die, we still need to live."

Compare how Derek treated Erica and Boyd when they want to leave in Battlefield to how Scott treats Malia in Damnatio Memoriae (5x12). There is a vast difference between Derek insisting that they need him "Yeah, but I told you how to survive. You do it as a pack. And you're not a pack without an Alpha." and Scott explaining that he needs her. "What if I told you that you were the only one I have left?"

Scott built a pack to help others, not himself. Some critical thinker on X announced that "they all left him" about Scott's pack, which somehow proves Derek was better. They did leave (though most of them came back when he needed them), because he's their Alpha, not their owner. They have lives. Isaac couldn't take Beacon Hills anymore and left. Liam moved to somewhere in Asia. Stiles joined the FBI. Lydia founded a company. When he led them into battle -- and Scott did -- he did it because someone innocent was going to die if someone didn't do something -- whether it was the victims of Gerard and the Kanima, or the Darach and the Alpha Pack, of the Dead Pool, of the Dread Doctors, of the Wild Hunt. The pack came together under his leadership to protect innocents.

I don't understand how parts of the fandom can watch the show and argue that Derek's betas were better off as his betas or that Derek was a better alpha than Scott. Even if you edit out all of Scott's positive traits, as parts of the fandom tend to do, even if you erase Scott entirely, as parts of the fandom want to do, Derek's methods were less than constructive, Derek's motives were selfish, and Derek's end results were less than optimal.

[mrslittletall]

I am not done talking about Dawntrail and it comes from a Youtube comment this time. I was listening to the Living Memory theme and someone pointed out "This expansion was full of complicated parental relationships". And holy shit! They are right! It seems to put the whole of Dawntrail in a completely new perspective. It starts with Gulool Ja Ja and his three children. He has one biological child and two adopted children. Wuk Lamat and Koana both love their dad loads and see themselves as siblings despite not being blood related and obviously not being the same race (outside of both of them being cats). But Zoraal Ja... he feels like he has to live up to a legacy. A legacy that nobody ever wanted from him. He got so obsessed with being the "Resilient Son" that he shut his heart out and didn't allow his siblings or his father to get through to him. Maybe we have to blame Gulool Ja Ja here for neglecting his biological son... we don't know much about their relationship because the story is told mostly through Wuk Lamat's eyes, but Zoraal Ja is the tragedy of a child that wanted to live up to the legacy of his dad and... failed. And this Zoraal Ja is having a child of himself. Gulool Ja. A child that he completely ignored and neglected. Probably because he feared that he would give him the same complex that he had. But he still loved his son. Shown by Gulool Ja getting all the authorities of the King after he died... (still want to know who the Mom is. At first I thought Gulool Ja is a clone of Zoraal Ja.) Then we have Bakool Ja Ja. He starts out as a comically evil villain and I still think his redemption arc was too sudden but here we have a case where a child was forced by his parents to be something they didn't want to be. Everryone worshipped Bakool Ja Ja as the blessed siblings while he was carrying around the guilt of the one who lived among hundreds of stillborn siblings. And that brings me to the last and probably messiest relationship. Erenville and Cahcuia. I don't think Cahcuia is not liking Erenville. In fact, I think she loves him very much. But she isn't a good mom to him. And I think part of her knows that. We don't know why she had her son, if he was wanted or an accident, but it was clear that she was not ready to have a child. And she did neglect Erenville because she wanted to live her own adventure. She even send him away. Maybe it was so that he got a new perspective and learned about the world, maybe she was really thinking something, but ultimately, Cahcuia feels pretty childish. It goes so far that Erenville has to learn his mom has died already and she acts like it is all not a big deal while being an endless, a memory of the person she once was. We see Erenville having a TERRIBLE time coping with all of this. And it feels like Cahcuia is not helping. Erenville needs to grief her and she acts like her second death is not a big deal. In the end they had some words for each other. But was it enough? Was it really enough? This relationship is so messy and I guess for some people it really hit close to home, so much that they hate Cahcuia. Because she is the mom who loves her child dearly, but... she has troubles caring for them in a way that the child needs. It just, agh, it makes me feel things. All of these relationships. There are probably more I missed. Feel free to elaborate in comments or reblogs.