#man if i was smart I would've written this and made a cover as an April fool's joke

[sunflowerwizard]

Novel adaptations of the first two Baldur's Gate games exist and while they're a fascinating type of terrible, they do follow the theme of game novelizations making the most generic man possible the main character.

To adapt to changing times, I propose the adaptation of Baldur's Gate 3 is written in that "A Noun of Noun and Nouns" erotic romantasy style.

Contractual obligations include:

At least seventeen mentions of the heroine's smallness or otherwise mousiness.

She also has to be either a brunette or redhead (if you want to get spicy)

One gratuitous sex scene every other chapter (At least two include bathing in some capacity. One must include some form of tepid BDSM)

There will be an obligatory relationship tease with a sweet guy even though we all know its gonna be the brooding bad boy, ffs when is it not gonna be the brooding bad boy

A villain will require the protagonist to attend his ball and gift her a sexy slinky gown which she will wear with a dagger strapped to her thigh

[mermaidsirennikita]

Louis de Pointe du Lac, as originally written, could be regarded as one of lit's most famous "also rans", someone who was originally positioned as Thee Tragic Figure of the series, only to be almost immediately superseded both in the readers' and the author's minds with Lestat. Like, you know Louis because of the original book, but Lestat is the one everyone talks about, Lestat drives the rest of the series, Lestat has all the best lines.

And the movie, as much as I personally don't like it, only sort of dug this further into the pop cultural understanding of the story. Brad Pitt is at his most "I am relying on pretty" boring and sulky; when there is a performance, it's largely annoying. And Tom Cruise... I mean, it's literally nothing next to what Sam Reid does in my mind, but it was at least very off-brand for him at the time, and he was doing SOMETHING, and he (and Kirsten Dunst) have the most iconic Moments, the camp, the arguably most memorable part of the movie (the very end with the Sympathy for the Devil cover playing us off).

So it's honestly SUCH a testament to the innovation of the show's writing and the brilliance of Jacob Anderson's performance that Louis has been reinvented, not only as a compelling protagonist, but as a character that is EASILY as complex and multilayered as more traditionally antiheroic/villainous types like Lestat and Armand and Claudia. He's more than the beautiful, tragic object of Lestat and Armand's affections, he's more than the guy telling us the story.

Louis is self-loathing and self-aggrandizing; he's victimized by Lestat, and he manipulates Lestat, very aware of his own emotional hold over him (might we note how much agency Louis had over Claudia's turning, and how Lestat in no way would've done that if not for Louis... and that act was arguably one of the most selfish in the series, if emotionally understandable). He's controlled by Armand, yet we get hints that he's actually quite dangerous and perhaps in some sort of self-delusion about just how dangerous he is (and Assad certainly plays Armand like he's nervous as fuck about Louis knowing the truth--and I don't think that's JUST about the possibility of Louis leaving him once he finds out).

Louis tells himself that he loved Claudia more than anything and that she was his "spark in the dark", when we see that in reality their relationship deteriorated over time and continued to do so, even after the person who was seemingly a wedge in their relationship was vanquished. We see hints, perhaps, that Claudia was no more the ideal daughter in his mind than Lestat was the ideal lover.

And that last scene in the premiere? When we're not sure who the "you" is? Sad and kind of horrifying, too. Because like--what will Louis do to Claudia to further his own love and obsessions? Who does Louis prioritize more--Claudia, Lestat, Armand? Maybe none of the above. Maybe himself and what or who he thinks will stave off his own loneliness, his need for love and validation and, yes, power.

None of this is a criticism of the character. The show already did something SO good and SO smart by turning Louis from a white slave owner to a Black man with money and social standing, still so held back by the laws and environment of his day. Vampirism gave him agency, yet the show, in season one, showed the potential for Louis to still be the perpetual tragic victim (in episode five especially). And maybe they'll still slip up and do that.

But increasingly, with the reveal in the s1 finale and the s2 premiere, I think we're getting the implication that the thing Louis could be protecting himself from mentally (with some help from Armand--I don't think Louis's memory issues are all Vampire Magic, though) is something horrible that he did. A choice he made. Because Louis does have agency, and the narrative allows him to be someone with conflicted desires and a complicated sense of self. Someone who doesn't love PRETTILY. Someone who is manipulated and manipulates.

Like, I've joked about him being this kind of like vampiric Helen of Troy because of the allure he holds for powerful figures like Lestat and Armand, but I also think it's so powerful to explore the way that Louis uses that appeal and ALSO makes fucked up decisions on his own because he is... into being adored, frankly. Even if the people who adore him also hurt him. He gets caught up in his own romanticized retellings of his life story, whether heartfelt or tragic, because in those retellings he can pretend that he had no choice, he had no ability to say otherwise.

But like--Louis could have stopped that woman from being decapitated, potentially. Louis didn't have to walk away from human affairs. He chose to do so, just like he chose to beg Lestat to turn Claudia. Just like he chose to deny her Lestat's true death.

And I think there's like, an attempt to reckon with this in the unreliable narration of the books, but I also think that this is so dependent, in Anne Rice's version, on spinning to Lestat... That Louis's culpability and untruths are overshadowed by his Everything. Here, the story lets us soak in Louis's mind, and Jacob Anderson's performance really seals that. I find it so smart.

[gracefullou]

/he performed the same number or maybe even less covers when he did fetsivals/ shows pre- walls era/ I hadn't even thought to check this so I just did and you're right. 1-2 1D songs at those shows, and he has a wholeass album "written to be performed" now. It's absolutely inexplicable. I'm starting to think the fan support has stunted him because he doesn't know how to perform for non-fans.

Whatever he releases next will probably be good, but wasting a festival season when he gets no exposure elsewhere is depressing af.

To be fair, he's always been nervous to perform in front of crowds. Especially unfamiliar ones and aotv made me see how serious that anxiety was. Before, i could see his nervousness, his anxiety but i never thought it run so deep that he could not even enjoy his performance (until the Scala show ❤️‍🩹). But I think he was under so much oppression as an artist by his record label aka Sony, that he was just so eager and determined to release his solo work (when he was asked how he feels about walls' release, he always answered with "relief"). He performed so many unreleased walls songs for the first time in ccme. I can't help but bitterly think the man that chose this setlist would've been content to just sing 12 one dead covers and call it a day. Maybe surrounding himself with such a useless team (and therefore yes men) dimmed that fire a little. Maybe it' not even a confidence issue, maybe he simply believe that it's the smart thing to do. In any case, it really is so depressing that 5 years and two brillant albums later, here we fucking are: four covers on the setlist for his festival runs, ot5s and larries celebrating and solo fans (the only ones that give a fuck about his career) beeing attacked and called out for wanting him to sing his beautiful songs instead.

[2460nodone]

Trophies

Title: Trophies Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Drama/Romance Published: 05-19-13, Updated: 05-19-13 Chapters: 1, Words: 3,671

Summary: They meet on their respective fields - his, baseball, and hers, soccer - and it changes everything. Enjonine modern AU for the Fic War on tumblr! Oneshot, rated T for language.

originally written for the e/e fic war and posted to ffnet. prompted with “soccer AU, baseball AU” by tumblr user samthenardier.

Chapter 1/1

He's not quite sure when he first noticed her.

Perhaps it was the weekend Courfeyrac hit the ball out of their diamond, and, as he played in the outfield, she reached him first to return it. He hardly paid her any mind, only nodding in thanks. She was clearly just as busy as he, covered in dirt and soaked with sweat, her shin guards smeared with grass stains.

Perhaps it was the weekend that it rained. Bahorel and Grantaire, playing on his team that weekend, were highly distracted when the women with whom she was playing declared their match to be shirts versus skins. She seemed to be the chief in insisting that it be the girls who played as skins, against the shirted boys.

The boys on his baseball team couldn't help but stare as the girls stripped, their shorts rolled low on their hips and clinging to their thighs in the rain, their tops bare, save for their soaked-through sports bras.

He noticed that she and her friends were frequently shooting glances in the direction of the baseball diamond, delighting and giggling when his teammates and opponents fawned over them.

Perhaps he noticed her the weekend that it was so hot they almost had to cancel – she, again, was shirtless, but this time her sports bra was soaked with sweat. They watched as she poured cold water over her face and head and shoulders – his teammates with hunger and desire, he with disinterest.

Perhaps it was the weekend he saw her running to their diamond, soccer ball under her arm and her hand entwined with another girl's, one with dusky skin and dark hair. They sat in the bleachers, watching and cheering and laughing. It was quite distracting. Afterwards, he watched as she made a beeline to Marius, just as Joly and Bossuet appeared to be racing to talk to her friend first.

He paid her little to no mind, though he did notice when she wasn't there sometimes, especially because his baseball team (and often their visiting competition) and the eternal pick-up soccer game that she participated in often went out for drinks together after their respective games were over. It seemed oddly quiet when she wasn't there, rare though that was, but it also irritated him when she was there, because she spent the whole damn time mooning over Marius and trying to get that freckled fool to pay attention to her.

He never bothered to interact with her; in fact, he didn't even know her name. Nor did he try to learn it. Whenever she came into his peripherals, he merely acknowledged her mentally as "Marius' Shadow."

However, everything changed when he was leaving the park one day, and came across her corned up against a tree, an older man who must have been her father screaming in her face as she cowed. When the man hit her across the face, he lost it.

He dropped his things, and suddenly he was next to her, then in between her and the man, then shoving the man away and shouting things that he didn't remember later. They tousled briefly, resulting in a bloody nose on his face and a black eye on the old man. The man stormed away, screaming and cursing at them.

When he turned, he didn't even have time to react before she slapped him sharply across the face. It left him momentarily dumb; he wasn't sure whether to pinch his nose to stop the bleeding or hold his smarting cheek. Then she was shouting at him.

"I don't want your help! I'm not some sort of damsel in distress that needs rescuing from some bourgeois knight in shining armor!" She shoved him, though it was hardly strong.

Her lip was bleeding and was starting to swell from where the man hit her.

Ten minutes later, he was in the dugout, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Hey," a voice said behind him, startling him. He turned, and there she was – fat lip, messy dark hair, long, thin legs and a torso hidden by an oversized jersey. She held a plastic bag in her hand.

He just sniffed blood, trying to keep it from running down his face more, and stared at her. He was hardly forgiving; if she resented his interference, he wouldn't interfere. He had a bloody nose and probably a black eye (try explaining that one at work tomorrow), all because he was trying to help her. So as far as he was concerned, they had no reason, especially now, to interact at all. He wanted nothing from her.

"Sit down," she ordered. Her tone surprised him; it reminded him of how his mother or his teachers would talk to him as a child. He wondered where she picked it up. Then he sat.

She put the bag on the bench beside him, digging around inside. From it, she pulled gauze, an ice pack, hydrogen peroxide, and band-aids. Without a word, she began mopping up the blood on his face.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the blood that was still gushing from his nose.

He shrugged.

"It was my dad. It wasn't the first time," she told him quietly. He wondered why she was telling him this; from the look on her face, she was wondering the same thing. Then, "I'm Eponine. Eponine Jondrette."

He regarded her for a moment, and she finally met his eyes. They were a beautiful, bright brown, flecked with gold, but were dark and angry from the memories that were undoubtedly cycling through her mind. He looked at her lips; dried blood had trickled onto her chin, though she hadn't seemed to notice.

"Enjolras," he said. "Gabriel Enjolras."

Eponine's lips twitched into a small smile, then she got back to work on cleaning him up.

When she was finished, she threw the first aid supplies into her backpack. "I'll buy you a beer," she offered, "as a thanks – and an apology."

*

He's not quite sure why he kissed her.

It was several months after the day he fought her father.

They were heading off to the park together. His league's season was over, but he and his friends still met each weekend for pickup games. She had wormed her way into his friend group, and they had invited her along, eager to teach her how to play baseball. In return, she was going to teach them a little bit about soccer.

She met him on the corner near his apartment – it was more convenient for her to cut through his neighborhood to reach the park, as she lived a few blocks away.

"We need to run to my place," she said when he found her, not bothering to greet him. "I would've gone alone, but my phone was dead and I didn't want you to think I was ditching you.

Though they lived relatively close together, there was a marked difference between his neighborhood and hers. His was more affluent – he was a lawyer, the only son in a wealthy family, and therefore, his apartment was large and well decorated and safe.

Eponine's apartment, however, was one room of a giant, sketchy-looking complex. She joked that this was where the meth-heads came to die.

He worried for her safety.

Inside, however, she had done her best to make the place comfortable. It was colorful, but tasteful – very bohemian, but it worked because it was so Eponine.

She had hung curtains to separate her small bed from the rest of the room, and disappeared behind them for a few moments.

When she reemerged, she beckoned him over. "Enj, these are my soccer trophies from high school. I was being scouted for college, being offered scholarships and even full rides, but then I blew out my knee."

He hadn't known. He knew she was good, but not that she could have started in college. Nor did he know that her knee had ruined her opportunity to get out of – well, out of this life. It broke his heart; she could have truly been something quite incredible. She was smart, she was driven and talented, but lacking the resources to rise out of the life she so despised. To have come so close, only to have an ill-timed physical issue rip her chances away – he couldn't even imagine.

"That sucks, Ep, I'm so sorry," he told her sincerely.

She smiled warmly, though he could see a touch of bitterness in her eyes. "Whatever," she shrugged, "I have all these crazy trophies for my trouble!"

And she did. There must have been more than 30 of all colors and sizes, from participation awards to tournament placements to MVP's.

"My collection would totally kick your collection's ass," he teased, nudging her with his elbow. "I was given a partial scholarship to play in college. I wanted to go pro. I didn't have time for anything else, not even girls. My entire life revolved around baseball and school."

She looked at him. "What happened?"

He stared straight ahead at a trophy she had won her sophomore year of high school for most valuable player. "My priorities changed," was all he said. He could hear the hardness in his own voice; out of the corner of his eye, he saw her searching for something on his face before she turned back towards the trophies. He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, reaching out and touching a medal, "all my trophies are at my parents' house."

"I like having mine home with me," was Eponine's soft reply.

He looked at her. There was a faraway look on her face, an absent smile on her lips. "They help me remember a time when I was happy." She seemed to be talking to herself now, and he wondered if she remembered he was there.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, all of a sudden, and he felt something building inside of him that was foreign and, if he had to admit it, a little frightening.

When she turned to him, a questioning look on her face and an inquiry forming on her lips, he kissed her, swallowing whatever it was she was about to say. She responded immediately against him, and he pulled her body flush against his instinctually when her lips parted against his.

*

He's not quite sure why he slept with her.

He had never been with a woman before.

And she was vulnerable; he couldn't shake the feeling that he had taken advantage of her.

Marius and his girlfriend, the perfect, blonde Cosette, had gotten engaged.

Eponine had showed up at his door, in tears and completely inconsolable. So he ordered pizza, and ran to the liquor store around the corner for a bottle of Jack.

Three hours later, she was straddling him on his couch and kissing him wildly, half the bottle abandoned on the table behind her.

The whole experience, as intoxicating and wonderful as it was, was like being with a hurricane. It was wet and strong and dangerous, but he loved every second of it.

When he woke the next morning, she was in his kitchen, dressed in one of his t-shirts, making breakfast.

She kissed him good morning.

*

He's not quite sure when he fell in love with her.

They were out all night.

It was a warm night, in the middle of spring, a summery breeze sweeping through her hair and toying with the hem of her dress as she skipped around him.

Eponine didn't want to go home, and had talked him into staying out with her all night and going down to the docks to watch the sunrise.

"I've never seen the city when it sleeps," she had said.

They weren't together, per se, but Marius was married and Eponine was putting him behind her and now whenever she saw Enjolras she kissed him. He didn't hate it.

They had sat on the docks, swinging their bare feet inches above the water.

She grabbed his hand, humming a song into the wind. She was being strange; it was that mix of happiness and sadness that he'd learned to associate with her. Like she's almost ready to be happy, almost ready to let go of her problems, but she just can't.

She took his hand as the pre-dawn sky turns purple.

She kissed his cheek and then his lips when it turns pink.

When it turned orange, its bright glow lights up her face.

When the sun broke free of the water, she laughed. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

And that was when he knew: he'd fallen for her.

*

He's not quite sure why she wouldn't let him save her.

Eponine was stubborn, and always refused his help. He frequently reminded her that it was his job to help people, that it was his calling, but she would just snap at him that "a calling is a thing for entitled bourgeois boys," and that those he was "called" to help did not always want it.

When her little brother died, hit by a car in the middle of the night, he was not sure she'd ever come back to him.

She pushed him away. Stopped seeing him, stopped meeting him for baseball or soccer, stopped coming to his games and stopped showing up to her own. She wouldn't even answer her calls. Nor would she talk to any of her other friends.

Musichetta, her soccer friend, and Joly were dating, and even Musichetta had not heard from her in weeks.

When he finally saw her again, her face was gaunt. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, and hadn't eaten in weeks. Her already thin frame clung to her bones, her cheeks were sunken in, her hair was dirty and unkempt, and her hollow eyes had dark circles.

He didn't know how to save her, but for god's sake he tried.

*

He's not quite sure why she left him.

It isn't fair – that's the only thought that's cycling through his mind right now.

He's been sitting in this chair for, well, he doesn't even know how long. His friends keep coming to check on him, but he barely hears them. They can't say anything helpful anyway. They don't know.

All he can think of is her, of those precious moments by her side, as he stares straight ahead.

Directly in front of him is her casket. And he can't take his eyes off it, off her lifeless body laying there for those attending the wake to gawk and cry over.

He can't cry, he can't eat, he can't feel. He briefly wonders if this was how it was for her when little Gavroche was killed, and if that was the straw that broke the camel's back in her life.

He wonders, much more extensively, why he couldn't save her. He was always reminding her that saving people was all he wanted to do. He just wanted to help.

Why hadn't he been able to help her?

It was a sunny afternoon. They were sitting on the stairs of her fire escape. She was under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Not everyone wants to be saved, Enj," she told him. "Not everyone will let you."

"As long as you let me save you, that's fine," he replied.

She said nothing for a long while. "It might be too late for that," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

And it was. It was far too late.

She was gone.

The only woman he had ever loved, ever cared for, ever had time for, was dead.

This was a woman who had opened up an entire new world for him, and he would never see her again.

He's not sure what comes next; now that he's lived in this world of hers, he isn't sure if he can live without her.

When he's angry at her, angrier than he's ever been before, he curses her name, screaming at her ghost for leaving him behind, for ruining his life.

He hates her; she destroyed everything about him, everything he was, and left this empty shell behind. He was fine before - he didn't know what he was missing, and ignorance truly was bliss. He was settled in his life. But then she appeared in it, and turned it upside-down.

He tries to breathe.

Azlema, her younger sister, walks up to him.

She wraps herself around him, and he lets her, squeezing her tightly. She, of course, knew Eponine too (in a way that his friends didn't), and just as he lost the love of his life, she lost her older sister - and her baby brother. So she understands.

"She loved you, Enjolras," Azelma murmurs, her voice shaking with emotion and thick with the tears that spill from her eyes. "I know she never told you, but she told me. She loved you, and she would've wanted you to know."

He cries.

*

He's not quite sure how he picks up the pieces.

It's been forever, but it's also been no time at all.

His nights are cold and lonely, and his days are torture.

Grantaire has moved in with him, though perhaps that wasn't the best decision on the part of his friends, as the other man is so full of anger and sadness himself that all they do is spend their time drinking.

Combeferre seems to catch on, because then he comes to stay, too.

Suddenly, he's forced to eat the food Combeferre has cooked. He's forced to look at Grantaire's artwork and give his opinions, he's forced to go to work and do a good job again.

He's forced to look at her photographs every day (but that one he does to himself), too. In them, she seems happy. She's bright and beautiful and alive. God, she used to be so alive, even when she was miserable, even when she was depressed. She could be in the worst mood, but being around her was like being in the middle of a beautiful storm.

He misses that.

Eventually, Courfeyrac convinces him to come play a pickup game.

It feels good, being back on the diamond. The power of the ball as it flies from his hand, the feel of the wind in his face as he runs from plate to plate. He especially likes being at bat, because smacking that fucking ball into oblivion is suddenly the most therapeutic thing.

And then the game is over and his friends leave and he's slamming his stupid bat into the ground, raging in the middle of the field, screaming at her at the top of his lungs and undoubtedly causing quite the scene.

He collapses, and then someone is there – Jehan, perhaps? – speaking to him, trying to calm him.

But what does it is Eponine.

No, she's not there, of course, but he sees her team playing soccer on the next field. Or maybe it's a different team, he isn't sure if her friends play here anymore.

He looks up into the overcast sky, closing his eyes to the clouds, and can almost hear her laughter carried to him on the wind.

He goes home, pulls out the trophies he took from her apartment and those he took from his parents' house. He places them in pairs around the apartment, wherever they fit - his next to hers and hers next to his wherever he can find the room for them.

"They help me remember a time when I was happy," she had said that first time he kissed her.

And she was right.

There they were, once again – playing baseball, playing soccer together, just like when they had become friends. This time, however, their endless games were in his apartment. But looking at their trophies together was, for some stupid reason, extremely comforting. It made him feel like she was there, in these dumb objects she had been so proud of.

He sees her in them. They make him think of her. And he misses her, he does, but she would want him to be okay.

She would want him to keep on playing, because she wasn't able to.

And that's exactly what he's going to do.

Fin.

[andiwanderer]

New Kid

Tony Stark x daughter!Reader

Overview: Frustrated by how Tony was treating the new kid, you felt like an outcast. After the outburst of your father, you finally told him your decision. Because no matter how hard you try to gain his attention, his sole focus was directed to this new kid, named Peter. Maybe parting ways from your father can finally make him notice you. a/n: i'm sorry for the poor written summary! please bear with me! XD

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff

MASTERLIST

a/n: my first fanfic post, please, pleeeassseee! bear with me✨

--

"Parker!"

"Hey Parker, look at this."

"That kid is doing his job. I commend that. And also he's my intern, so get yours."

"He said his name was quote on quote "Spiderman". You got that, Rhodey?"

"D'you think? You know you have a potential Pete,"

"That spiderling?"

"Peter, just contact Happy on that one, I'm on my way."

"Mr. Parker, the Avengers just wanted your safety. Courtesy of me, of course."

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark ask your presence in his office."

Y/N had enough. It was like 4 in the morning and she hasn't got her proper sleep. She reached for her pillow and pushed it to cover her entire face along with her ear. Now, silently hoping she can finally sleep.

She really had enough not just because of exhaustion. But because of the 'New Kid' from Queens, Peter Parker.

She can't have a full day without hearing that kid's name uttered by her father, Tony.

Not that she was jealous of him but she's getting there. She used to be her father's apple of the eye. She used to have that same praises and care from Stark, then this Sokovia Accords began to ruin it.

Y/N knew what's right from wrong, Tony taught her that. And being controlled by the government, it was as though not having the freedom to have your own insights expressed. You can't do that because you're their personal puppet, the only thing that is right for them is their own judgment.

So she joined the Captain's team and learned the knowledge that Barnes wasn't a killer and he was controlled by HYDRA, the organization that they've been chasing, and it was not him who killed the T'challa's father, T'chaka. He was framed.

The encounter in Germany happened, there entered the new mighty intern of Stark, Peter Benjamin Parker also known as Spiderman.

They seemed pretty close for her liking and from that moment on she knew something is about to change.

They went back to the compound after what happened, finally having a truce. Understanding each side, well a majority of them, but there are two certain people who are still not on speaking terms.

Here's the thing, Y/N, and Tony fought regarding the accords before parting ways. And both of them seemed to heightened their pride and refuse to apologize to each other. They still think that their own opinion is better than the other.

Living in one compound doesn't help, it's difficult to not cross paths when wandering around. The only advantage of this was finally they're having small talks.

"Mr. Stark, I just went to grab my bag."

"You go ahead on the lab, I'll just..." Tony's voice trailed off as they walk towards their destination.

Y/N's eyes peeled open. Why can I still hear their voices in my sleep?

She knows drowsiness already left her and this will take a toll on her later on.

Now that she's awake, might as well start her day. With that, she sat up and stretched her arms out with a yawn. Grabbed her phone and hoodie before making her way into the kitchen.

When she got there the lights turned on, it was motion-sensored. "Good morning, Ms. Stark."

"What's good in the morning," she murmured as she open the cupboard and reaches what she needed. "The sun hasn't even peaked yet."

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, miss?"

"More like woke by an annoying voice."

"I apologize for that, it seemed that I was the one who is guilty-"

"Geez FRIDAY, I was only kidding. Can't take a joke?"

"Your voice was monotone, it was hard to tell."

"Not a morning person..." she sat on one of the stools and continued stirring her cup of milk as she entertained herself by scrolling onto her phone.

"You're up too early." Bucky's voice filled the room slightly startling the lone girl in the kitchen. He removed himself from leaning against the frame of the doorway. Making his way to Y/N, he sat beside her.

Glancing up from her phone she met his gaze, "I could ask you the same question."

"Don't smart ass me, doll." he gave her a stern look. "I got back from the bathroom and you weren't on the bed."

That made Y/N's voice back down and instantly felt guilty. It's dawn and she's giving her man an early headache to nurse for the entire day.

So she wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him, nuzzling her face on his chest. She felt him responding to the embrace, hugging her fragile body against him tighter.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled through his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head while caressing the back of her head, "I'm sorry too. I was just worried... I thought you were gone."

"That won't happen. I'm a pain in your ass remember, it's not easy to get rid of me." she chuckled, taking in his warmth.

"Is there a problem? Did you have a nightmare, Hmm? You can tell me everything, I'll listen."

Bucky knew about her struggle seeing the two, namely the man of iron and the kid with the sticky web, having a bond like father and son. Every day he sees the look in her eyes, that hostile look that she gives the kid. If staring is deadly, Peter would've been cold meat. So this topic isn't new to him. And every day it reaches a different level.

"Not really..." she pulled herself from the hug, grab his hand into hers, and intertwined them. "Is it I or Peter and my father are so close right now, even mom can't break the two apart. If I didn't know them I might've assumed they're connected by blood."

"In my perspective, I don't really pay much attention to anyone except you."

His statement brought a smile to her face. "You're crazy."

Bucky leaned in until his lips are ghosting into hers, "Only crazy for you." leaving a peck on Y/N's slightly parted lips that made her cheeks burn. She lightly shook her head on his lame comebacks and partly to somehow ease her flustered face.

"But seriously, Buck. I-" she inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. Her next words came out as a whisper, "I'm jealous...I'll admit. I am now..." she finished her drink and went to the sink washing the things she used, Bucky still eyeing her waiting for her next words. "There's not much to tell, Peter was the son he never had. He was always enthusiastic about it when he talks to mom," pertaining to Pepper "I can't blame him..." when she was done, she turned, her hips leaning against the sink. "I don't want to think about it but I don't know, Buck. Sometimes I just want to d-"

"Disappear, disperse, die?" her head whipped to where the voice came from. Tony walked into the room, screwdriver in hand.

He was headed to his workspace when he heard her daughter talking, her voice was serious so he got curious and got sidetracked.

Tony's eyes shift from Y/N to Bucky, confusion was etched on his face. He can't read either of their expression so he made his own conclusion. "You're thinking about killing yourself?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock at his statement. I was going to say disappear. Which also has the same meaning by the way. She was about to interject when Tony immediately cut her off, not wanting her to say anything. "Is that it?" He arched a brow at her, he was starting to get pissed. "Aren't you even grateful you're alive? Many people die every single day. It wasn't their choice, hell they'll do anything they can to be alive. And here you are having the opportunity to live thinking how to end your life? Why did that thing even cross your mind."

Bucky sensed Y/N's tense composure as her hand began to fidget her shirt in habit when she's nervous or scared, Bucky noticed it but Tony didn't, so he got between the two. "Tony..."

"Shut your mouth, metal man. We're in a conversation as you can see. Can you please-" the guy waved his hand dismissively, gesturing him to vanish, then turned to Y/N.

He pointed the screwdriver at her, "What happened to your smart mouth, young lady, did that also died?" firmness laced his voice, she can't even decipher if that man was still the father she grew up to. It was like this moment, he became a cold jerk father to her.

Not wanting to deal with his shit, she grabbed her phone at the counter, and without saying anything she walked out.

How did he even think I want to die? I had only said 'D-'! How that does make any sense. I can say dance or whatever d-verb I can apply to my sentence!

Almost stumble to the new arrival, Peter Parker. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him before making a beeline to her room.

As to Bucky, he just stared at Stark who shook his head as he brought his free hand up to massage his temple.

Peter shot a question, "Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes, what just happened?"

It was Barnes' turn to shake his head with amusement because of the two. Before Tony could utter a word, Bucky left and followed Y/N to her room.

***

"What the hell was that?" he angrily spat at Y/N as he left his suit.

"Tony-"

"Rogers this is between us so get lost."

Steve looked in Y/N's direction whose eyes were glued on the floor. He wants to get between them because there has been a misunderstanding and Tony had been declining to listen to the captain ever since the time they finished the mission. Turning off his earpiece and blasting off defeating them on getting to the compound first. He didn't want to be rude, Tony was right and he didn't want to meddle with them, afraid that he might get the topic even worse. But if anything goes wrong he'll step in no matter what. So he ushered the team to leave and go to the med bay to have their wounds treated.

"That doesn't mean it excludes you, Barnes."

That made Y/N lift her gaze, meeting his steel-blue eyes that were full of concern and love. She gently nodded at him, giving him the idea that she can handle it and Bucky did what she silently asked.

Tony paced around the room. "You are well aware of what you just did, correct? And you know that it was gonna put you in danger!"

I was just trying to save you. She wanted to say those words to him but witnessing how riled up he is right now, made her heart race. Yes, she's afraid of him whenever he's angry that's why she never gave him a reason to be angry at her. The first was with the accords, and the list might continue because of this.

"What were you even thinking! It doesn't mean that now you're a shield agent, you should put yourself on death's door! Or just because you're fulfilling your task of getting yourself killed. You're taking every mission as an opportunity!"

It's not like that... Tears are now falling freely on her face.

"I will talk to Fury about this. And Y/N," his eyes were cold when she gained the courage to look at him, "you're out of the team. Sooner or later SHEILD will kick you out too. Believe it or not, this is for your own good."

She stared at him in disbelief. This was her entire life, he can't take that away from her, for the first time she had the urge to argue but her father cut her before she can speak.

"If only you're as obedient as Parker this wouldn't happen."

That made her heartbreak into many pieces. It was like hearing her own father saying that if only Peter was his son.

Y/N eyes were now red and puffy. Cheeks and nose flustered because of her crying. The tears are making their way down her cheeks uncontrollably and seemed that it's not stopping any time soon. Biting her lips to stop the whimper from being heard. She averted her gaze to the ceiling to somehow stop the flow of her tears.

That's why she didn't see the reaction of her father upon seeing her in her state at the moment. Guilt was already eating him.

Assuming that their conversation was over, she turned her heel and took her to leave with low shoulders. Even though she wanted to be angry at him because of his statement, she can't. Tony Stark raised her well and disrespecting isn't one of those.

"I--" suddenly his voice died. Was really apologizing for that hard?--

"I'm leaving..." She said with a tiny voice.

What?

Y/N swallowed the lump on her throat before saying, "I'm going to fix my things, maybe I should give you some space. I don't like s-seeing you angry. I will join Bucky on their trip to Wakanda. This might give you some peace of mind. And don't worry, I won't kill myself, I'll let a natural death fall on me."

She waited for him to respond or anything but when he didn't she ran towards her room with only one thing in mind, He didn't even try to stop me.

Bruce who was headed to the med bay heard a little of their conversation--he didn't mean to eavesdrop--he approached Tony. "Was that really necessary?"

Tony who felt guilty answered, "She was having suicidal thoughts, what was I supposed to do!"

"Understand her! What the hell, Stark! You only made it worse!"

***

"What the--what are you doing here?" Y/N eyes widen when he saw her father who has the same expression as hers, and a red floating cape behind him.

"I'm the one who should ask you that, missy." he frowns at her. "It's dangerous here! How did you ev--you should've stayed at your house. You could have get yourself in danger!--you know what screw this--" Tony snarls at her clearly he cared for her well-being, however, Y/N didn't acknowledge it instead took it negatively.

"I can handle myself just fine, Stark." she rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, so it's Stark now. I didn't teach you how to disrespect, young-"

That's when Peter came swinging in and landed beside Tony. Y/N's eyes narrowed at their suit, how can she not recognize it. It's nanotech just like hers, and it was originally her idea by the way. Formulated when she was 12 years old, being fascinated by technology and all that stuff.

She felt insecure because of Peter... She was the daughter she didn't even know if creating a suit like that for her crossed her father's mind. She made her own damn suit, okay.

"I thought you were a spiderman, so why do you always follow him like a good little soldier? What are you a cat who's having fun and chasing his tail?"

"Y/N, mouth."

Peter became tense but quickly composed himself, ignoring Y/N's sarcastic statement, "Miss Y/N, I want to apologize-"

"Apologize? For what?"

Tony is sure, she can be stubborn as him. She's his daughter after all.

When the kid didn't reply she huffs, "See you don't even know what you're apologizing for. So if I were you just step back, I'm had to get Dr. Strange from that two-foot Squidward."

Squidward, huh. He can't help but remember what he had called the alien-like antagonist that they had been chasing. Turns out they gave him the same nickname. That's my daughter.

"Wait, you know his name?" Tony questioned, pertaining to the magician.

"Long story, years passed, things changed, many things happen but--whatever."

"We have a plan actually..." peter said meekly, completely intimidated by Y/N. He thought that Stark's definition of her was all too good to be true, cause he can prove it's all the opposite but maybe he just met her at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Oh yeah?" she arched a brow at them as she cocked her head at the side. "What is it?"

***

"I want to protect the stone."

"And I want you to thank me, now. Go ahead I'm listening."

"For what? Nearly blasting me to space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass?--Me."

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Y/N bit her lower lip to prevent her chuckle from erupting. Cause Strange said was so true.

"-flying donut, billions and miles from Earth with no backup."

"I'm back up." Peter raised his hand.

"No, you're still away. The adults are talking"

"I'm sorry, I-I'm confused about the relationship here. What is he your ward?"

"No-"

"Stark's son," Y/N interject. She's bitter alright.

Strange lift his gaze from where she was sitting on the ceiling. Looking confused, "Your looks don't resemble."

"Exactly! cause I don't have a brother and I am nobody's daughter." her feet swaying back and forth as she answers and it echoes all around the ship.

"Please don't mind her that's not true. I'm Peter by the way."

"Dr. Strange."

"Oh you're using made-up names, I'm Spiderman then."

"Y/N can you please go down, you might get yourself hurt up there." Tony pleads.

"You said you two can handle it. I'll just stay here thank you for the concern, but no thank you."

She watches them on her spot, not really paying attention to what they're saying but she senses Strange and Stark's topic was serious.

Y/N was acting like a slightly drunk lady, that's what the others' observations were, but she wasn't. She's just sleepy and she acts cranky when she does. And she's missing her guy who at the moment might be pissed at her because of her sudden disappearance. Oh, Bucky... I could use a hug...

After their conversation, Tony approached Peter, and like what the highest person does to proclaim a knight, he does it with Peter along with the lines of 'You're an Avenger now.'

Letting the guy recover from his shock she calls him, the kid met her gaze. "I hold no grudge, really."

Parker was having second thoughts on her statement either it was a half-hearted claim or not, regardless he answered. "Thanks." giving her a shy smile and Y/N returning a tight-lipped smile.

***

"Mr. Stark, I don't want to go.. I don't want to."

Y/N stared at them as she sit on the ground, tired and weary. She doesn't need to ask them what it felt to disappear, she herself can feel it inside of her. That weird feeling seemed hard to explain.

Witnessing this moment in front of her shattered the little part of her heart left. That should be her in his father's arms, that should be her having that last moment with him before she disappear-but no. It's always Peter.

At that moment she felt numb, as a lone tear made its way down her cheek. She never thought that she'll welcome death open arms. Y/N is done, she knew that.

"Sorry..." was the last word Peter uttered before he turned into dust.

Good riddance.

The older Stark can't still register what happened so when he turned his head, his eyes looking for a certain someone. He was filled with dread when he didn't found her.

"Y/N?"

"He did it." Nebula stated pertaining to Thanos that his plan on wiping half of the planet has begun.

Now that it was all sinking into him, he can't help but blame himself for not doing his job in stopping that grape titan, and maybe if he wasn't an asshole enough to his daughter, maybe he still has her in his arms like when she was still a baby. He was a complete dick towards her. It was all coming back to him, all the times they had been together.

It broke his heart when he watched her ran to her room that day. He can't speak because his pride was fighting off his conscience. He didn't want to see her cry, and the idea that it was his fault for making her leave dreaded him. He tried to follow her to Wakanda but he was afraid she might ignore her, afraid of the instances that might happen if he does one wrong move. Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were his only contact on asking how Y/N has been and their answers were always the same.

Peter and Y/N were almost alike, maybe that's the reason why in doing so his relationship with her drifted.

If only he'd stopped Y/N from leaving maybe this wouldn't have happened. If only he didn't sign the accords maybe things didn't change the way they were...

If only...

a/n: i'm really sorry for the crappy plot..

[ifonlyitwereterato]

Flowers For The Dead Man

After talking with @hoodoo12 I just couldn't let go of the idea for this Beej x Reader fic. It's my first fic for the Beetlejuice Fandom, but hopefully it's a story that hadn't been told this way before.

Beetlejuice x Reader

___________________

Your parents, friends, and colleagues had always found you to be an odd sort of girl. Well, that is what they used to say, but now it didn't matter since they weren't around. Your parents had long since moved somewhere warm and retired; good for them you thought. Your friends, or at least the only decent one you had left this world too soon; blame it on the drugs, booze, or bad boyfriend; they all contributed to her untimely demise. As for you, you simply existed and continued for no good reason, but found solace in the breeze, trees, and long-time companions which never complained; their gravestones stoic reminders that perhaps it was all in your head.

On the days you didn't work, you'd stroll through the forgotten churchyard and admire the epitaphs written on the withered, weather-worn stones which remained. Some of them were well thought of, and others were of no consequence, but none of them could compare to the one past the rusting gates, up the small hill, underneath the gnarled, dead tree. It was quite a walk, one that sometimes made you tired and other days exhilarated. You couldn't ever explain the inclination to visit the lonely grave to others; they wouldn't have understood, but you felt a little less alone there.

Near the base of the affectionately named Spooky tree, you'd find beetles and allow them to crawl on your hands; admiring their peculiar design and smart ways as they'd study you. At times you wondered if there was an intelligence about them that went beyond their natural limits. Who was to say they did or didn't? Not you. Still, you would chat with the small creatures as though they could understand you, because who else would've shown such compassion? Again, who knew?

No one else came by when you were here, but on occasion, you thought you were being watched. Strange, but you had thought of stranger. For example, if life had been breathed back into the tree, perhaps it could've given you clues as to who; if the dead man, whose grave you visited religiously rose, would you be told to stay or to go? You weren't certain, but you did know that almost everyone wanted to be remembered past a name. Yet, a name wasn't given; the grave said "here lies a man; a man with the most" whatever that was supposed to mean; you called him beetleman because it was fitting; the fascinating insects never far from his tombstone.

However it went, the day would go, and when it was over, or when you had to go, you'd offer your silent friend the flower you had brought that day because it seemed the best way to thank them. It only seemed right after taking so much of one's time. And before making your way back, the beetles would cover the flower in its entirety and claim it as their own. Funny things they were, but it only endeared you to this place more; to the place where he belonged.

Walking down the hill, back to the path which you had traveled hundreds of times, the wind would blow and bluster as though it wanted you to stay, but pushing past it, you'd continue back to the land of the living because that's where you were supposed to belong; even if only for the moment.

Fin

[minybangy]

EXO reaction : Their S/O is a medical student/intern...

[Sorry if there’s any typos or mistakes]

Kim Junmyeon — Suho

A 24h shift is hard and very tiring, you ran in the ER all night, prepared an operation with your chief and took care of ungrateful patients who had dared to tell you you weren't doing your job correctly. What did they know about your job? So when you came home and the delicious scent of your favorite dish came to you, you felt truly happy. You quickly went to your kitchen, finding your boyfriend cooking, you couldn't help but come behind him and wrap your arms around him.

“Jagi, I missed you.”

You and Junmyeon had your habits, he was busy most of the time and so were you, but whenever you could, you always made sure to be there and to make time for each other.

Sometime you would run a hot bath for him to relax after rehearsals, sometimes he would give you a massage to help you recover from constantly running and walking in the hallways. Each of you always made sure the other was okay. And your relationship was working perfectly, sure there were occasional tensions but both of you were understanding and mature enough to make it work well.

Kim Minseok — Xiumin

You had a big exam coming up soon, and you weren't ready, really NOT ready. You worked, you really did but it was simply not enough and now you wanted to cry, frustration taking over, fearing to fail and to lose your chance to be a surgeon. Minseok was working out not far from you, but when he looked up and saw your eyes watering, he stopped, got up and came to you, asking what was wrong, so when you told him about fearing to fail, he sighed a bit, not really knowing what to do. He was covered in sweat, and you were sad, so the only solution he thought of was to take a long, warm shower.

After your shared shower, you were relaxed, wearing fresh comfy clothes, your boyfriend behind you, gently stroking your arms. He then took your flashcards, bribing you for motivation.

"Okay jagi, for every correct answer, I'll give you one kiss, stay focused."

Zhang Yixing — Lay

Exhausted was not a word strong enough to describe the state you were in. You wanted to fall and sleep for at least five days. Your back ached, and you could barely tell if you could feel your legs. The shower relaxed you though, maybe a bit too much as you were almost falling asleep while standing. You lazily placed your toothbrush in its cup, rinsing your mouth and quickly brushing your hair. You came out of the bathroom, wearing something comfy to sleep, and joined Yixing in your shared bed, clinging to him as he embraced you tightly. You both talked about your respective days, nothing special about it but it felt great to finally be with him and to be able to really relax. He played with your fingers for a little while, occasionally taking a strand of your hair between his fingers, not even knowing what to do with it, but he talked, his voice was low, almost a whisper, making you doze off easily. So when he asked you something, and you didn't answer, he looked down at you, a chuckle left his mouth when he saw your eyes tightly closed.

"You worked hard Y/N, I'm proud of you."

Byun Baekhyun — Baekhyun

Baekhyun, being the cutie that he is, would want to make sure that you were taking breaks, so as soon as he saw you rubbing your eyes or temples, he would get up, close your laptop and take your hand.

"C’mon, time for some fresh air!”

It could be simple things like just the two of you walking down the street for a bit or sometimes it could be little dates, far away from your books and headaches. He was proud, don't get him wrong, he was so proud of you and knew that you still had to work for a while before to go to bed, but your health is important to him so by making sure that you were stopping for a while, he felt better. And you were grateful, he was saving your head from exploding and your legs from stopping to correctly function due to the amount of time you were sitting.

Kim Jongdae — Chen

You were confident, there were really no reasons for you not to be. You worked so well and reviewed everything you had to. Your boyfriend had helped you as well and gosh, he saved you. Last month, you had an important exam to pass, well, important? More like decisive. Make it or break it, there was no way back.

Jongdae had accompanied you to get your results, but as you approached the place, you started to stress more and more. You somehow managed to calm down and enter the building, coming out with an envelope. You both sat on a bench nearby, your fingers playing with the sides of the brown paper, not daring to open it and reveal the final results. Your future was in there, written on a document. One word could literally change your whole life right now. Accepted or Rejected.

“Fighting Y/N, You can do it”

"I can't do it Jongdae, do it for me please."

So he did, he took the brown envelope, carefully opening it and took a paper out of it. There was no need to read everything. The most important was written in bold. He didn't say anything though, and you thought it was over until he took your hand in his, making you look up, seeing a wide smile spread on his face. He presented you the paper. Accepted. And at this moment, you thought your heart has stopped.

"Congrats Doctor. May I take you out on a date tonight or are you too busy for me now? Don't abandon me when you accomplish miracles and become famous."

Park Chanyeol — Chanyeol

Sometimes, mostly at the end of the week, you were struggling to keep everything in your head, too tired to be able to stay fully focused, you were frustrated, sighing and growling, throwing your book on your desk and dramatically plopping yourself on your bed, at least five times in the pasr hour. Chanyeol wanted to laugh at first, but when he saw how desperate and tired you were, he somehow had an idea. So one day, you saw him enter your living room, wearing some kind of human's anatomy printed clothes. Giggling, he planted himself in front of you.

"Jagi, let's make this fun! I'll be your model.”

He got up on the coffee table, facing you, he pointed at some muscles, asking you to tell him everything you knew about it. At the end of the day, you had learned everything you needed to know, and your boyfriend couldn't be prouder, knowing he had been a great help to you.

Do Kyungsoo — D.O

You were often coming home late, sometimes you would even forget to eat, going to bed as soon as you could and hiding in your man's arms, almost immediately falling asleep. Studies and work taking too much time and you being too unorganized, this mix not giving anything great for you and your health. Kyungsoo wouldn't say a lot, but he knew, he saw, you and your bad habits, so he would've created this little routine for you to follow, it was a pretty simple routine, but it was efficient: Water bottle to empty before a certain hour, not skipping any meals even if you really didn't have any correct schedule due to the hospital being an unstoppable rollercoaster, and finally, a good amount of sleep. 

So when he saw you getting up on your own to cook, he felt proud, knowing that you were taking his words seriously. Yes it wasn't a lot, but it meant a lot to him, firstly because you were listening to him, but mostly because you were taking care of yourself. 

“Eat well jagi”

Kim Jongin — Kai

You watched your timer for the fourth time, sighing, grabbing your pen again and writing down as fast as you could. You were testing yourself for an upcoming & very important exam, willing to do anything in your power to make as little mistakes as possible. So when your alarm went off, you stopped breathing for a microsecond, hoping you had it all correct. You took the paper with all the answers written onto it and proceeded to correct your test.

You jumped from your chair when you re-checked every answer for at least three times, everything was correct, you didn't expect to do this well, so you felt all the chains tightly wrapped around your lungs, fall, letting you breathe normally again. The little victory dance you were doing since a good minute made Jongin laugh, but it didn't stop him from joining you, taking your hands in his and dancing like two crazy kids for a little while.

"I knew you were smart baby! Now you deserve a long night of sleep and cuddles, come here."

Oh Sehun — Sehun

As per usual, you were working when Sehun came back from rehearsals, you were memorizing tons of information and medical stuff, just like every other day, and you were not closing your books until late every night. Sehun was proud, and very understanding, knowing that to succeed, you needed to give your all, but he was also worried, always making sure you were still going to bed and you were getting a reasonable amount of sleep before going back to your revisions. He would watch you work sometimes, but of course, you wouldn't know that; this man wouldn't let you catch him observing you lovingly while you were so focused. 

But as much as he would understand and accept the fact that you are as busy as him, he would still want some of your time, and if you ever forget him, don’t worry, he’ll make sure to remind you to pay attention to him.

One last thing, this guy would brag about you at any given opportunity.

"Sehun, we haven't seen Y/N for a while, you should bring her someday, we miss her!”

"Sorry hyung, you know doctors are busy. She's performing her first operation today!"

[mermaidsirennikita]

listen yes the diana ghost was stupid as fuck and i do agree with some of the cast being miscast (although i feel the real issue is they are not given enough to do) but idk man i was compelled. and more importantly entertained. god season 5 was so boring. maybe it's just that i had such low expections going in and i'll feel different on rewatch but i thought these episodes were a lot more focused, better paced and written compared to season 5. not perfect by any means but good bordering on amazing. i thought the acting was also very strong. i even feel like they handeded diana's death well and i'm impressed morgan didn't just totally repeat himself since he already covered these events in the queen. the shift in perspective helped i think. so yeah that's just me. i've seen the season getting a mixed response and it's definitely not on the level of seasons 1-4 but i thought it was still very very good.

To preface: I don't want to imply that you're wrong for liking it, there are totally my opinions alone.

For me, the ghost went beyond stupid--it's offensive. I know it wasn't a literal ghost, that's not even the issue. Peter Morgan softened the relationship Charles and Diana had in order to lionize Charles, which has been a huge part of s5 and s6 imo. Diana and Charles weren't like... good... when she died. She wasn't good with Elizabeth II either. Even if the ghost is idea is supposed to act as their projections, I don't think the general audience is necessarily going to get that in the way it was conveyed. Dianas would not like... lovingly usher Charles and Lizzie 2 through grief; and even the implication, however unintentional it is, goes into this idea PM has pushed that Diana didn't feel that badly to the monarchy, she didn't mean what she said in the Panorama interview, she was confused!!!!

And it's a part of invalidating her emotions, using her mental health especially, that is also a consistent part of the Windsor mythologizing of her in recent years especially. She didn't hate us. She was manipulated.

Diana was smart; she was abused by the Windsors; and I think she would've done a lot worse if not for William being the eventual heir. Compare it to Harry and Meghan--Harry clearly still has a kind of emotional attachment to his father and whatever he thinks his family is. Meghan has obviously ceased to give a fuck about them and did a while ago. When you weren't raised in that family and were treated like an outside as a married-in, I think your capacity for forgiveness probably goes away, especially when you're not financially dependent on them (see: Fergie, who stayed more loyal ultimately and is financially dependent on Andrew and by extension the royals).

And aside from that, I find the handling of Mohamed al-Fayed, a controversial man with controversial opinions, whose outspokenness and anger towards the royal family is totally valid--but who did have extreme theories that were used to invalidate the solid points he made at times. The other thing used to invalidate him was the concept of the Angry Brown Man who just Wants Revenge on the Rich Classy White People. The show has VERY MUCH played into that. And you can absolutely portray whatever Mohamed did to influence Dodi and that relationship (and I won't deny that he wanted them together) without playing into that stereotype.

I also found the way in which Dodi was portrayed, or really the lack there of, really disappointing. Dodi was given a really flat characterization over both seasons, which is a big missed opportunity to me--Dodi obviously died too, and his tragedy was really lost in the shuffle of the immense reaction to Diana's death.

To me, the attempted lionization of Charles and Camilla has really been distasteful. The were human. They made mistakes. Nobody is perfect. But the idea of Charles as this handsome grieving pseudo-widower who just wanted to be with the love of his life is so... off. Camilla as his loyal trusty partner who is ready to step up is... off. Camilla didn't want to be queen, at least not at that point. She slept with both Charles and her husband (among others) for years. She loved her husband. Charles saw other people. That's all valid, tbh; but I've never liked this idea that they were these consistent, steadfast lovers thwarted by fate and a more attractive, more popular woman. Camilla wanted to be his mistress, lol. Being queen or princess came with obligations that she (understandably) wasn't interested in signing up for. Charles kinda pushed her into that.

So yeah, idek. I don't find the writing any more compelling than s5, personally. I feel like the first four seasons did a great job of acknowledging the humanity of the royal family while also admitting to them being fundamentally shitty. Philip and Elizabeth have their weird failmarriage where they actually do love each other; and they're incredibly cold parents who scar their son. Margaret is a woman who wants her own individual identity and is mentally tormented by it; she's also an incredibly spoiled and self-absorbed asshole. Charles is the kid who wanted mom and dad to love him; he's also an emotionally abusive husband who is incapable of not wallowing in self pity.

I mean, I'd say this extends to people the show didn't see as shitty, too. Even Diana--she's got a good heart and is a good and loving (if not perfect) mother, and she soaks up the attention (while paradoxically hating it at times) and isn't very mature.

To me, it now seems like PM has failed to realize that he doesn't have to make Charles and Camilla seem like better people than they are to make them seem like people. Perhaps he feels he had to overhaul after the very negative reaction to them in s4. But the reality is? Those negative feelings were already there. Many people made up their minds about Charles and Camilla a long time ago. While I'm sure some people genuinely went "oh it's been long enough, we like them now" (particularly royalists) many, many people... still hated them lol. They just didn't think about it. The show gave them something to talk about. PM didn't make the royals look bad in that season; so much as he reminded everyone of why they were so, so criticized in the 90s.

(And he def gave a soft touch to some people before s5--good ol' Uncle Mountbatten's pedophilia accusations were never mentioned.)

So yeah, it just seems like they lack depth, and are more flattering portrayals of the monarchy versus even... well-rounded fictional people.