#woc fandom

[silendastral]

SUDDENLY Barry for @flyingttoast 🥣

And I think her humanization still in good shape and she's string, cuz muscle car, yeah

[silendastral]

Thanks for the game! I hope someone else will join it!

1. I became a part of the fandom relatively recently - sometime in late summer or early autumn of this year.

I could have joined the general fun back in 2021, when I remembered this wonderful movie again, but I was ashamed that I would seem silly and was just afraid to interact with foreigners who are more active in the fandom than my ru-segment.

I became a fan of live vehicles as a child - I am 4-5 years old, when I am already able to walk on my own, read and turn on a TV. The funny thing is that when I was little, I didn't care about the plot, I liked Cars THESE ARE LIVING CARS AND THEY INTERACT WITH EACH OTHER IN A FUNNY WAY, AND SO ON WOOOOOOO

And as I grew up, it became easier for me to understand the plot, trace various patterns, look for allegories and compare them. It's hard to be an under-psychologist to fictional characters. And well, thanks to pixar cars for trauma in the form of Frank(

2. In 2021 - maybe I was sorting through the discs on the shelf at that time and found my old disc "Cars: Mater-National Championship". I decided to remember my childhood and play the game, and after that I started drawing cars, but mostly like ponies.

In 2023, I find myself in the fandom because, strange as it may sound, in Spooky Month fandom where was a roffle about Bob Velseb who loves Cars and McQueen was his favorite character + I've checking my 2021 artwork. We combine two factors - boom, I am here with you now.

3. Chick damn Hicks. In short, so that you don't read the nonsense of the one who went: - He and I are similar, which makes it seem to me that I'm just his gender-bender, but who knows how to keep his mouth shut when necessary; - he is quite a well-written versatile character. It's clear from him what came from what, what makes him the way we see him; - In the first and third films, you can see how Chick has changed. That he became less twitchy and obviously happier in the role of the presenter.

Extended version: When I was a little girl, I liked him only because he has the features of my father's appearance (Brown eyes, mustache), and because he is green.

I'm growing up. I return to the work again, in fact, and to Mr. Hicks too, deciding out of interest to find out information from the wiki and materials provided by Tumblr users. And what can I say? - I really like Chips as a character, because he feels human, imperfect, but at the same time attractive. Because of his father's influence in the past and resentment after many years of racing, they do their job, from which we get a toxic man who does not know how to live for his own pleasure, so he also hinders others because of envy. He's just broken af inside like a porcelain vase, and now take the tape in your hands and try to glue it back together, provided that the fragments run away from you.

(Many thanks to @kaderp for the comics materials!) Chick, if you look at all his behavior, is well suited as an example for the phrase "To seem, not to be." He just seems like a tough guy. He behaves pompously, just so that no one thinks that he has problems with self-esteem: He will resent being called a loser; show his disregard to all those who, in his opinion, are "unworthy".

It's unpleasant to be overshadowed by someone else, isn't it? Before Lightning's appearance in racing, Chick has his own 'I', without "admixture". But as soon as the rookie appears on the sports scene, our green goblin, afraid of being forgotten by the public, takes over other people's things: - catchphrase, - shiny sticker - in the third film, the banter is in a similar manner as the Rust-eze racer (in the 1st film McQueen's "You know 'cuz thunder always comes after lightning." - in the 3rd film Chick's "Ka-chow, or more like ka-booze, 'cuz his always in a back").

WOC Question game!

Let's get to know everyone in the fandom better!

Rules of the game: I'll post some Cars/Planes questions. Reblog with your answer. Create a new post with new questions directed at the fandom.

Include the tag "wocquestiongame" in your responses and be sure to tag the cars fandom. Let's see where this goes.

My questions:

How long have you been a part of the fandom?

How did you get involved in the fandom?

Who is your favorite character and why?

My responses

1 and 2: I've been a fan of Cars since 2006, when I saw it in the theater. Only within the last year have I gone balls-to-the wall with hyperfixating posting WOC art online, writing fanfiction, and generally interacting with the fandom...so I guess I'm pretty new to the things, here. I'm not super active online because of my work schedule (I'm a groundskeepee for a local zoo), but I try the best I can with the time/energy I have at the end of the day.

3. Doc Hudson, hands-down. When I first saw the movie, I liked Doc...but thought he was being rude and unfair to Lightning. Fast forward a while to when I got my dream job, teaching college geology. After three years, I realized that the admins didn't give a shit about education and that they seemed to be doing everything in their power to shut down anything that myself, or other professors, tried to do for the student body. I quickly became disillusioned by the apathy and lack of support...and I had to resign because the stress was literally killing me. I know now that this is a common theme in higher ed...but all I wanted to do was teach. To see that flame of understanding kindled in the eyes of my students...

To lose that, was like having my soul pureed in a blender, and I...havent been able to teach since.

Every time I hear Doc's line "there was a lot left in me, and I never got the chance to show 'em"...I tear up. He's still reeling from an apathy that ended his career ..and I understand how hard that feeling can be to rebound from, how you can lock everything in a garage and hide behind a new personality... because your old life is too painful to think about.

[haunted-planes]

The brainrot got him

[m-art-usia]

This is a drawing of two imaginings of Inej in the fandom. The desi one is on the right, and it is the more popular of course. The left one is the Romani one, which is less shown in fandom but seems more fitting in the universe to me.

[sukibenders]

Hear me out: you can ship JayVik without falling into or using rhetoric that fits the disposable black girlfriend trope. You can ship JayVik without using Mel as some conceived ploy or antagonistic plot device that makes her out of character. You can ship JayVik without falling into misogynistic rhetoric (eg. viewing female characters as disposable or stepping tools, amongst other things). You can ship JayVik without erasing the impact Mel has had on Jayce and their relationship because, whether you shipped it or not or even gave it the time of day, Mel and Jayce did care for each other, and to deny that or say Viktor held more importance/impact than her in Jayce's life to where she's viewed as "unnecessary" just to further your ship is so wrong and, whether you intended for it or not, does carry undertones where black characters, especially black female characters, emotional impact on others is ignored or downplayed even though there's context to support just how important it is/they are. Lastly, you can ship JayVik without using anti-black and misogynoir type rhetoric because the amount that has flooded this fandom, but especially from some fans of this ship, is atrocious. Ship what you like, but be respectful and careful with certain things you say, is all I'm saying.

[strip-weathers]

If you’re in Cars / Planes fandom, please stop scrolling!

You reached one of Cars blogs! I’m pretty active on here and would like to get to know some other blogs!

I’ve noticed a lack of support and noticing smaller artists (like me) in this fandom so I want to say:

Let’s support each other! If you don’t follow me, leave me a follow and I’ll follow you back! A follow, reblog or like is something that we artists need and help us to stay motivated with our creations!

Come and reblog this for others to see this post so we can support more people in this fandom!

[vee6lolz]

hello!!! how are you?

i was thinking about spencer meeting a teacher hehe I'm not so good at describing it, but maybe she's giving private lessons for a kid's neighbour of his and then they meet at the elevator of the building? pretty please? 😍

𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖙. -- spencer reid x teacher!reader.

warnings/tags: (fluff!) , teacher / chaotic (but sweet) reader.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this help me i love u to whoever suggested it

wc: 1.9k !!

summary: you're a teacher whose putting in the work for summer school students, you wake up late one day and even though it seemed like the most inconvenient thing ever, it worked out in your favor after all.

NOT PROOF READ + ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

The morning sun spilled through the gaps in the curtains, casting stripes of light across the tangled mess of blankets in your bed. You blinked groggily, your eyes heavy and puffy from too little sleep and too many regrets. As you rubbed the remnants of last night from your eyes, your phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a string of missed calls. Four from your ex, two from his best friend. A dull ache settled in your chest—a reminder of things you’d just rather forget.

You groaned, realizing you had returned none of them. Not that you had the time, or the patience. Rolling out of bed, an overwhelming wave of yesterday’s choices washed over you; you reeked of sweat and something faintly reminiscent of cheap wine. Your gaze flicked to the clock on the wall—12:30. Oh shit. You were late.

With an urgency you hadn’t felt in days, you scrambled to gather yourself, moving your hair out of your face as you stumbled towards the bathroom, your heart racing along with the consequences of your procrastination.

you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in an effort to shake off the fog of last night. the cool rush did little to calm your racing heart as you hastily brushed your teeth, already scanning the small space for something—anything—that was clean to wear.

just as you reached for a shirt that suspiciously looked like it might’ve been worn yesterday, your phone buzzed again. the caller id read “mrs. henderson,” one of your students' moms. with a sigh, you answered, knowing you had no choice.

“hello, mrs. henderson,” you greeted, trying to inject some cheer into your voice.

“yes, ma’am,” you replied, wincing at the urgency in her tone. “yes, i am on my way right now, stuck in traffic.” you glanced at the clock again; the minutes were slipping away.

as you hurriedly threw on a wrinkled pair of pants, you glanced out the window and noticed the swarm of cars barely inching along. your frustration bubbled over, and without thinking, you shouted toward the street, “come on! move it already!”

“ugh, you know how it goes during rush hour,” you continued to mrs. henderson, half-exasperated and half-amused at your own antics. “yes, almost there, buh bye!” you ended the call with a shaky laugh, shaking your head at the chaos of your morning.

with adrenaline pumping and a mounting sense of urgency, you quickly pulled a sweater over your head, choosing to ignore the wrinkles. tugging on your shoes, you grabbed your bag and took one last look in the mirror. you could only hope today wasn’t a complete disaster—and that you wouldn’t have to dodge any more frantic phone calls.

you got out of your car and parked in guest parking, the summer sun pouring through the window, painting the seats in golden hues. instead of lounging on a beach somewhere, sipping piña coladas and listening to the sound of gentle waves, you were stuck in summer school with one specific student. your friends were sharing stories of tropical adventures while you were grading notes on multiplication and grammar. it wasn’t that the student was a bad kid; in fact, she had been a solid performer until the semester began to slip away from her. she was bright but had a stubborn streak that kept her from doing anyone else’s work, that is, until she met you, ms. [l/n]. the school administration figured that since you had built such a great rapport with her, why not sacrifice a little vacation time to help ensure the girl wouldn’t flunk? and if they thought you were just going to say yes because you felt bad... then yeah, they were right. god you hated teaching summer school.

as you arrived and, rushed down the hall, you hit the button for the elevator, tapping it with increasing impatience as the minutes slipped away. the elevator door stood stubbornly closed. you groaned and hit the button again and again, tapping it with a combination of desperation and frustration.

“having trouble?” a voice chimed from behind you. you turned to see a tall figure walking toward you, his frame around six feet tall, effortlessly commanding the small space. he had tousled dark hair, and his cheekbones were high and defined, complemented by a slight smile. his eyes were a striking shade of hazel, an unusual mix that seemed to shift with the light. he wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his lean frame, paired with dark suit pants. he looked almost too perfect—a professor-type, but a bad one. like someone who could educate you on the theory of relativity and then do things to you you would never forget.

“uh, yeah. it won't budge,” you admitted, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you briefly noted how attractive he was. he approached the elevator panel and swiftly pressed the actual button—of course, the one you had been mashing fruitlessly. the elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and you stepped inside, feeling a mix of gratitude and intrigue.

“thank you,” you said, glancing at him as the doors closed. you stood next to each other in the cramped space, and you couldn’t help but eye him curiously. he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, occasionally looking down at his hands. you couldn’t figure out why he was so quiet, but you didn’t dwell on it for long; your focus was on arriving to the door.

as the elevator hummed its way to your destination, you noticed the number flashing above the door. to your surprise, you were headed to the same floor. just as you reached it, you both instinctively moved toward the door at the same time.

“oh, after you,” he offered, his voice smooth and lightly teasing. your heart raced again, not just from the sense of urgency but also from how charming his laugh was. you couldn't help but notice the way it seemed to echo around you, making you want to hear it again.

“no, please. after you,” you insisted in return, and you both found yourselves caught in an awkward dance, both trying to let the other go first, unable to decide who should step out first.

“after you,” he repeated, laughter dancing in his voice, and just like that, you nodded, cheeks slightly warm, before stepping out of the elevator. as you walked past him, you felt the warmth of his presence lingering, and that laugh—oh, God if you weren't so late right now...

you sat across from your young student at the small kitchen table, surrounded by a mix of colorful worksheets, pencils, and books. The late afternoon light poured in through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. The little girl diligently worked on her times tables, the crinkled paper a testament to her determination.

As you glanced occasionally at her progress, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. Teaching had its challenges, but moments like these reminded you why you loved it. You caught yourself smiling—genuine, unfiltered joy spilling over as the girl successfully rattled off another multiplication fact. but you also caught yourself remembering the tall man in the elevator, you smirked to yourself even more.

In a moment of concentration, she looked up and noticed. “You’re smiling a lot!” she blurted out, her eyes wide with curiosity. You chuckled softly, caught off guard by her observation. “I guess I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

“My neighbor down the hall works for the FBI,” she announced with an important air. Her youthful confidence was contagious. “He’s a profiler or something, and he says that when someone’s smiling a lot, it means that something happened to make them happy.”

“Yeah, I saw something that made me happy alright,” you said lighter than you intended, before a wave of realization washed over you. maybe that wasn’t... appropriate to say in front of a fourth grader. Your mind raced as you searched for a safe response.

“What does that mean?” She asked, you stammered and stuttered and asked. “Well, uh-- Hey would you look at that its almost time for me to go.” She looked at you curiously, clearly pondering what you’d said. There was a peculiar wisdom in her gaze, and you quickly ushered her away.

After a final glance around the apartment, you slipped on your coat and grabbed your bag, feeling the familiar excitement of stepping out into the bustling world again. The hallway felt cozy as you made your way to the elevator, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft chiming sound, you stepped inside, your mind drifting to thoughts of your next tutoring session and the plans you had for the weekend. Just as the doors were about to close, they jolted back open, and a man stepped in—tall, with tousled dark hair and a warm smile that lit up his face. He glanced over at you, and you instinctively looked up, catching his gaze. In that moment, time seemed to stand still amid the commotion of your lives outside.

A smile broke across your face, a soft, inviting expression that mirrored his own. And without thinking, you spoke up, "You came in this morning, but you're leaving this afternoon." you said, without thinking. It sounded creep to me, but he understood what I meant. He nodded, "Yeah my job it uh-- I work for the uh-- Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI." your jaw drops, and he looks, but not limited to, concerned. "Is everything--" "Yeah its just uhm, funny enough my student, I think she was talking about you today-- I teach, so," you mutter out, letting out a breathy laugh.

"She 'profiler..ed'? me, I guess. I was smiling and she knew that something happened this morning to make me smile. She said she got it from you," he looked in complete and udder awe as he let out a chuckle. he nodded, then thinking for a bit. The elevator dinged, and instead of parting ways there, you guys walked the parking lot together. "Anderson? The little one," He said, making the motion with his hand to the side of his hip. You nodded your head in agreement. "Yeah she's really bright," he adds with a smile.

You agree with him, and look at him with curiosity in your eye. "Why were you smiling this morning?". The question lingers through the air, as he gives that laugh, that laugh, that he gave this morning that you almost risked everything for, filling the silence.

"You were staring, really hard." You feel your whole world shatter in embarrassment as those five words escape his lips, you laugh out of complete shock and horror as he can't help but begin to join you out of response to your reaction. "It's okay, it was just funny. Plus, I was too.". You let that stay in the air for a bit— those gorgeous hazel eyes looking down into yours, you smiled. And that's all you did. He walked you to your car, making sure you got there safely. And before he could walk off to his own, you spoke out. "Hey would you— happen to have a card? Just incase I wanna talk to you about, profiling or, the right buttons on the elevator." You say, realizing how stupid that sounding coming out. But he didn't think so, not at all. "Or incase I just wanna, talk to you..." Your voice fading out as he walked back over to you. Spencer Reid.

"I'll be expecting a call from you, you know. About, the right buttons on the elevator." He smiled, chuckling out. You nodded your head. 'will do...' you thought to yourself as you turned the engine on, letting the rumbling of your car fill your ears for a moment.

oh thank, God, to being late.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Plan B

Jey Uso x Afro-Brazilian OC

Summary: In her thirties and single after a breakup, Hamisa decides she wants to become a mother, despite her friends' and family's objections. Unable to wait any longer, she chooses to have a baby on her own. However, she unknowingly ends up using her ex-boyfriend sperm after he drunkenly swapped her donor’s sample for his own. As Hamisa raises her child, she starts noticing striking similarities between her ex-boyfriend and her baby, leading to questions about the true origins of her child's conception.

Plan B Masterlist

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae @blackchickinthedesert

Fifteen long months had passed since Hamisa had last set foot inside the world of WWE, a world that once enveloped her with its chaos, its lights, and its fierce energy. It was a place where she had not only built a career but had woven deep connections, both personal and professional.

The memories flooded back as she walked through the backstage area of the Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, Indiana, where the 2025 Royal Rumble was about to unfold. But this time, there was something more, something that made this night different from all the others.

In her arms, bundled up in a soft pastel pink blanket, was her eight-month-old daughter, Jhream. The little girl had become the light of Hamisa’s life, filling her world with joy, laughter, and an unspoken bond that only a mother and child could understand.

After a year and a half of embracing motherhood, it was time for Hamisa to return, not just for herself, but for her daughter as well. It was a moment she had longed for, a chance to share the world she had once known with the little girl who had changed her life forever.

Backstage, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The air was filled with the unmistakable hum of a WWE event, voices rising and falling, people hurrying to and fro, and the ever-present buzz of activity. The familiar faces around her were older and changed over time, but they were still the same people who had once been a part of her world. Some smiled warmly when they saw her, others gave brief nods, but all seemed to pause for a moment to take in the sight of her, standing there with Jhream in her arms. The baby’s curious eyes scanned the faces, wide and unblinking, soaking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Hamisa walked through the bustling corridors with an eagerness that only a return to the familiar could provoke. Her heart fluttered as she introduced Jhream to anyone who would listen, proudly showing off the little girl who had become the center of her universe. Her excitement was palpable, and the love she felt for her daughter radiated from her, a beam of warmth in the otherwise cold, fast-paced backstage area.

Before long, Pamela, a longtime friend, and WWE veteran, made her way over, having heard that Hamisa was back. Pamela's eyes sparkled with recognition and excitement as she bent down to meet Jhream's gaze. "Look at you, sweet thing," she cooed, her voice soft and affectionate. "You’re so pretty."

Hamisa’s smile deepened as she watched Pamela gently scoop Jhream into her arms. The moment felt almost surreal, Pamela cradled her daughter, offering her a moment of comfort amid the madness that was WWE. The soft cooing sounds Jhream made as she nestled in Pamela’s embrace became like a lullaby, a tender contrast to the chaos around them.

Pamela looked up at Hamisa, her voice filled with a soft awe. "I can’t believe I’m your Godmommy," she said, her tone filled with genuine warmth. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Jhream’s cheek, and the baby, caught in the whirl of affection, responded with a goofy grin, one so exaggerated and mischievous that it took Hamisa by surprise. That grin, was one she had seen before, a flash of pure, unfiltered joy that reminded her so vividly of someone she once knew.

Before she could say anything more, a familiar voice interrupted the moment. "Pamela, Hamisa..." The voice was deep, almost hesitant, and unmistakable.

Hamisa’s breath caught in her throat as she turned. The man who appeared at the corner of the room was none other than Joshua, her ex-boyfriend. The world seemed to pause around her as he stepped into the space where she and her daughter stood. The last time she had seen Joshua had been under far more uncomfortable circumstances when they had parted ways after a disagreement over her decision to use a sperm donor. The tension between them had been thick, the air heavy with words unsaid. Now, more than a year later, their encounter felt awkward, almost strained, though the weight of their past still lingered between them.

Joshua’s eyes scanned the room, and his nervous smile faltered as he made his way over to where Hamisa stood, cradling her daughter. There was a hesitation in his movements, an unspoken uncertainty as he approached, unsure of how to navigate the space between them. His family, including his ex-wife and their sons, had built relationships with Hamisa over the years, and they had adored her. But after the break-up, and after his admission that he couldn’t fully commit to their relationship, things changed. The knot in Joshua’s chest, the memory of their time together, had never quite loosened, and he found himself standing in front of her now, unsure of what to say.

Pamela handed Jhream to Joshua without a second thought. Joshua accepted the baby gently, cradling her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. His eyes softened as he looked down at her, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to slow down. The baby was light in his arms, a small, delicate presence that seemed to bring a sense of peace amid everything.

"So, are you visiting or returning?" Joshua asked, his voice soft, but there was an underlying tension that hinted at the weight of their past.

"Returning," Hamisa answered, the word slipping from her lips with a sense of finality as if the decision had been made long ago. She took off her coat, revealing a pair of embellished tights and a curve-skimming pink bodysuit with cutouts that accentuated her form. The transformation was striking, she had returned to the world of WWE not just as a mother, but as a woman ready to reclaim her place in the ring.

Pamela squealed with excitement. "We’re going to be on the road together again," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

Joshua smiled, though it was a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was then that Hamisa noticed the small but significant detail, Joshua and her were both wearing the same color for their wrestling gear. It was an odd coincidence, and for a brief moment, Hamisa felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite identify.

As the conversation continued, Jhream, who had been tugging at Joshua’s beard, caught the attention of Jeyce, Joshua’s twelve-year-old son. Jeyce approached with excitement, his eyes wide with curiosity. "You’re back!" he exclaimed, pulling Hamisa into a warm hug.

"Hi, Jeyce," Hamisa said, smiling as she hugged him back. Jeyce’s gaze shifted to the baby in Joshua’s arms, and his face lit up with wonder.

"Is this Jhream?" Jeyce asked, his voice full of awe.

Hamisa nodded. "Yes."

Joshua handed the baby to Jeyce, who cradled her gently, as though holding a precious treasure. Jhream, for her part, seemed perfectly at ease, a content smile stretching across her face as she gazed up at the young boy. "Wow, she’s so pretty," Jeyce remarked, his voice filled with admiration.

A strange thought flickered through Hamisa’s mind, Jhream’s features, her expressions, the way she moved, it all seemed so familiar. It was as though she had seen them before, in someone else. But she pushed the thought aside, not allowing herself to linger on it too long.

As the backstage conversations continued, Pamela asked the question that Hamisa hadn’t even thought to consider. "Who’s going to watch Jhream while you’re out there for the Women's Royal Rumble match?" she asked, her tone light but laced with concern.

Hamisa hadn’t planned for that. In her excitement to return to the WWE, she hadn’t considered the practicalities of having a baby with her. The Women's Royal Rumble match was about to begin, and she had been focused solely on stepping back into the ring after months away. The last thing she had expected was to be caught up in logistical concerns.

Joshua, sensing her moment of indecision, stepped in. "I’ll watch her," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Good luck out there." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jhream’s forehead, lingering for a moment longer than he had intended. The gesture, simple as it was, carried with it a weight of unspoken feelings.

Hamisa nodded, her heart filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, knowing that at this moment, Joshua was offering more than just a simple favor. He was offering a sense of connection, a thread that tied them together despite the distance between them.

As the show began, Hamisa made her way to the gorilla position, her mind racing with anticipation. She was about to step back into the ring for the first time since her daughter’s birth, and everything felt surreal. The roar of the crowd outside was deafening, and the excitement in the air was almost tangible.

Meanwhile, Joshua took Jhream to the sitting area, where his relatives, including his sister-in-law Trinity, immediately noticed the baby in his arms.

"Is that Hamisa’s baby girl?" Trinity asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Why do you have her?"

Joshua smiled, his eyes softening as he looked down at the baby in his arms. "I’m watching her for her."

"Is Hamisa in the Rumble?" Joshua’s cousin Jacob asked, his voice full of surprise.

Joshua nodded, a faint but proud smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, she is."

The Women's Royal Rumble match was underway, and Hamisa entered the match at #4, her entrance earning a thunderous pop from the crowd. Her theme song blared through the arena, and the audience sang along, welcoming her back with open arms. She lasted twenty-five minutes in the match, showcasing her skills and holding her own against the fierce competition.

The final four in the match were Charlotte, Nicole, Carla, and Savelina, with Carla being eliminated by Charlotte and Charlotte ultimately winning the match, earning a title shot at WrestleMania 41. As the match came to a close, Hamisa made her way backstage, eager to find her daughter.

When she did, she was taken aback by how natural Joshua looked holding Jhream, as though he had been a part of her life all along. Hamisa took Jhream into her arms, thanking Joshua for watching her, but before she could say anything more, Jonathan, Joshua’s twin brother, took the baby, grinning as he held her up.

"Jhream, tell your mama you’re hanging out with us tonight. She can’t just grab you from us like that," Jonathan teased.

Jhream, ever the charmer, blew raspberries at Hamisa, causing Jonathan to chuckle. "She’s a feisty one," he remarked, as Jhream smiled, showing off her two bottom teeth.

As Hamisa took pictures with her friends and fellow wrestlers, she couldn’t shake the thought that Jhream looked more and more like Joshua with every passing moment. The baby’s facial expressions, especially the way she scrunched her nose, reminded her so much of him, a fact that made Hamisa’s heart flutter in ways she didn’t understand.

She tried to brush it off, telling herself that it was just her emotions playing tricks on her. After all, she had used a sperm donor to conceive Jhream. Joshua wasn’t the father. Yet, every time she looked at her daughter, those similarities felt more and more undeniable.

As the night wore on and the main event approached, Hamisa found herself standing with Jackie, talking about her hybrid role as a backstage interviewer and wrestler. But as Joshua passed by, Hamisa couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling that stirred within her. The baby reached out for Joshua once again, and he gladly took her in his arms.

"She is so cute," Jackie commented, raising an eyebrow. "She looks just like him."

Hamisa’s heart skipped a beat as she struggled to keep her composure. How could a child conceived from a sperm donor look so much like her ex-boyfriend?

The questions swirled in her mind, and with them, a deep sense of unease. What did it mean that Jhream looked so much like Joshua? And why did it make her feel like the past was resurfacing in ways she wasn’t prepared for?

But the answer eluded her, hidden beneath layers of complicated emotions that she wasn’t ready to confront.

The morning sun poured through the hotel window as Hamisa sat on the edge of her bed, the phone pressed to her ear. She could hear Hermione’s voice on the other end, sharp and teasing, but with an undercurrent of concern.

“Hamisa, you’re overthinking this,” Hermione’s voice echoed from the speaker, confident in the way only a younger sister could be. “You used a sperm donor, Hamisa. That man isn’t the father. There’s no way Jhream looks like Joshua. Unless—unless, subconsciously, you want him to be.”

Hamisa stared out the window, trying to collect her thoughts. The gentle hum of the hotel’s early morning stillness contrasted with the whirlwind inside her mind. She exhaled sharply, her fingers brushing through her dark hair as she tried to shake off the nagging doubts.

"I’m not crazy, Hermione," she muttered, rolling her eyes, though she knew her sister wouldn’t see it. "I used a sperm donor because he didn’t want more kids, and we broke up, remember?" The words were stiff as if she were trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Hermione replied, a mixture of sympathy and exasperation in her voice. "But, Hamisa... you’ve been through a lot in the past year, and now you're back in the WWE, reconnecting with all those familiar faces. It's normal for emotions to get mixed up."

Hamisa’s gaze dropped to the floor, her mind replaying yesterday’s encounter with Joshua and the way Jhream had reacted to him. The way she reached for him so effortlessly, as if there were a connection they shared, one that Hamisa couldn't explain. She didn’t want to admit it, but Hermione was right. The feelings were tangled, nostalgia, longing, and a bit of regret, all wrapped up in the rush of seeing Joshua again.

"But why does she look like him?" Hamisa asked softly, her voice barely audible as if the question itself was too vulnerable to speak aloud. "It’s like... she’s got his nose, his little expressions. Even the way she smiles, Hermione, it’s like I’m seeing him all over again, and it’s messing with my head."

Hermione was quiet for a moment, the line crackling slightly. “Hamisa,” she finally said, her voice steady. "You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re looking for patterns and connections where there might not even be any. Babies pick up so many things, like facial expressions and mannerisms from those around them. It could just be a coincidence. And honestly, you’re seeing things through the lens of everything that happened with Joshua. It’s bringing up old feelings, and that’s what’s clouding your judgment."

Hamisa leaned back against the headboard, still holding the phone to her ear, but her thoughts were miles away. "Maybe you're right," she muttered, her voice faint. "I just don’t know why it feels like I’m being hit by this all at once. It’s not just the way she looks. It’s everything, the way she reacts around him, the way she clings to him like she recognizes him. It’s confusing."

“Hamisa,” Hermione said gently, her tone softening. “You’ve always had a way of overthinking things. You have a beautiful little girl, and you’re back doing something you love. You can’t let all these doubts get in the way of what’s in front of you.”

Hamisa paused, glancing down at the space beside her on the bed. She had told herself time and again that Joshua wasn’t part of her life anymore, that he wasn’t the father of her child. And yet, in those fleeting moments when Jhream smiled just like him, or when she clung to him as though she had always known him, Hamisa couldn’t help but wonder. It was as if life had a way of throwing the most unexpected reminders of the past when she least expected them.

“I know,” Hamisa sighed, her voice filled with a weariness that was too deep for someone so young. "I just don’t know how to make sense of it all. It feels like... everything is happening so fast, and I can’t keep up with it."

Hermione’s voice softened again, a smile audible in her words. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but you’re strong. You always have been.” She paused for a moment before adding, “And when it comes to Joshua, don’t let your heart go wandering where it doesn’t need to. You’re doing this for you, for Jhream. And that’s what matters.”

Hamisa’s lips curved into a faint smile as she leaned back against the pillows, her shoulders relaxing for the first time that morning. Hermione’s voice, though miles away, always had a way of soothing her, of grounding her when she felt like she was slipping away.

“Thanks, Hermione. I needed that,” Hamisa whispered, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to breathe.

“No problem,” Hermione replied. “Now go enjoy the rest of your day. I know you’ve got a big schedule ahead of you.”

Hamisa nodded even though she knew her sister couldn’t see it. “I will,” she said, the words feeling more like a promise to herself than anything else.

As she ended the call, Hamisa set the phone down beside her and stood up, walking to the window where the sunlight poured into the room. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the day wash over her. The doubts still lingered, but for now, she would try to silence them. For Jhream. For herself.

And maybe, just maybe, for the part of her that still wondered what could have been with Joshua.

Hamisa walked over to the window, her fingers grazing the cool glass as she gazed out at the early morning bustle of Indianapolis. The city was waking up, the streets filled with cars, and the air was crisp. It was hard to ignore how much had changed since she last found herself in the WWE’s orbit.

She had come back, not just to revisit the world she had once called home, but to forge a new path, one that included her daughter, Jhream. The realization of how much had shifted in her life, how quickly everything had changed, made her head spin. The excitement of returning to the ring had been undeniable, but it also triggered memories and emotions she wasn’t ready to confront.

The connection between Joshua and Jhream lingered in the back of her mind, a whisper she couldn’t quite ignore. Each time she saw her daughter’s smile or the way she scrunched her nose, it felt like a fragment of the past was staring back at her. She had told herself it was just coincidence, but there was something too real about it. And deep down, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought: Could there have been a mistake?

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Hamisa straightened up, wiping away the pensive look on her face and replacing it with her usual, confident demeanor. She opened the door to find Pamela standing in the hallway, a smile on her face and an eager energy radiating from her.

“Morning, girl!” Pamela greeted, practically bouncing with excitement. “You ready for the day? It’s gonna be a crazy one, but we’re back, baby! Back on the road again!”

Hamisa’s lips curved into a smile at Pamela’s enthusiasm, even though she felt a little detached. The bubbly energy that Pamela exuded was like a welcome ray of sunshine. But Hamisa couldn’t shake the unease still fluttering in her chest.

“I’m ready, I guess,” Hamisa said, her voice betraying her uncertainty despite her attempt at a confident tone. She stepped aside, allowing Pamela to enter.

Pamela looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. “You guess? Honey, I can see it in your eyes. What’s going on? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Hamisa sighed, her gaze falling to the floor. She hadn’t realized how much her emotions were written all over her face until Pamela’s observant eyes caught it.

“I’m just... trying to figure things out,” Hamisa said quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s nothing really. I just—there are a lot of things I didn’t expect when I came back. It’s... harder than I thought.”

Pamela’s expression softened, her usual teasing demeanor giving way to concern. “What’s harder?” she asked, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “What’s going on with you, really?”

Hamisa took a deep breath and walked over to the window again, staring at the city outside as if the answers might be hiding there. She didn’t know why it felt so difficult to admit her feelings, but she realized then how much she had kept bottled up since the moment she had returned to WWE.

“It’s just... everything,” Hamisa began, her voice low and introspective. “Yesterday, when I saw Joshua holding Jhream, it was like I was seeing something I wasn’t supposed to see. I know it’s not his baby. I used a sperm donor. I know that. But every time I look at Jhream, I keep seeing little things that remind me of him.” Her voice faltered as she added, “It’s driving me crazy, Pamela. I don’t know if I’m just missing him, or if this is... something else.”

Pamela was quiet for a moment, letting Hamisa's words settle. She knew how deep Hamisa’s feelings ran, even if Hamisa herself didn’t fully understand them.

“You know, girl,” Pamela said slowly, her tone more thoughtful now, “sometimes when you’ve got a history with someone, it doesn’t just go away. No matter how much time passes. But you’ve got to remember—you made that choice for a reason, and it’s not just about Joshua. It’s about you. About what you needed, what you wanted for your life.”

Hamisa turned to face Pamela, feeling a knot tighten in her chest. “I know that, but... sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, you know? Joshua never wanted more kids. He didn’t even want to be a part of my life when I made that decision. And now I’m here, seeing him with her, and it’s like... everything is messy. I thought it would be simple, but it’s not.”

Pamela stood up and walked over to Hamisa, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing about life is simple, baby. But you’ve got this. I know you do. And as for Joshua... he’s not a part of your life in the way he once was, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to carry the weight of everything that happened between you two. You’ve got a little girl who loves you, who needs you, and you’ve got a life to live. Let Joshua figure out his place in all of this.”

Hamisa closed her eyes, letting the weight of Pamela’s words sink in. It wasn’t easy to let go of the past, especially when it seemed to follow her like an invisible shadow. But Pamela was right. Hamisa couldn’t keep holding onto old wounds that didn’t belong to her anymore. Her life now revolved around Jhream, and that’s where her focus needed to be.

“Thanks, Pamela,” Hamisa said, her voice quieter now, but with a sense of clarity she hadn’t had moments before. “You’re right. I need to stop second-guessing everything. I’ve got to let go of the past if I’m going to move forward with Jhream.”

Pamela smiled, her usual energy returning. “That’s the spirit! You’re back, and we’re not slowing down for anything.”

Hamisa laughed, feeling a sense of determination rising within her. The doubts weren’t gone, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like she was ready to face them head-on. With Pamela’s encouragement and her own resolve, she could start the next chapter of her life, one that was all about her and Jhream, and nothing else.

“I’m ready,” Hamisa said, her confidence returning with a vengeance. “Let’s do this.”

As she walked toward the door, the uncertainty that had plagued her earlier began to fade. Whatever happened with Joshua, with her past, it no longer mattered. She had her future to focus on now. And that future had a little girl who needed her.

Next

[travmalyubvi]

I don't believe they are siblings

How the fuck does genetics work here?

[silendastral]

I wanted to talk about it later, but I'm impatient.

In a nutshell, in my fanon, cars' insides calls "drivers" that have gone down the path of adaptation as humans.

Ancient drivers used rounded stones before the creation of vehicles, in which they hollowed out a space and a couple of holes for themselves: for the mouth and for a small limb, thanks to which they push off from surfaces, climb and grab.

Omnivores. Due to the fact that they were not adapted to hunting, they ate mainly fruits and carrion.

Since, in essence, they were initially considered as a brain, then gradually, like humans, they began to evolve (more intellectually than externally).

They go through an almost similar path of development as humanity.

With the creation of vehicles, life has become easier.

Driver's bodies became faster, comfortable, capable for self-heating to avoid cold spells and etc.

It seeps into the details of its body to control it using thin threads of itself, which both pulls and retracts if necessary (for example: repairing, tuning).

Their cycle looks like this:

They are born prematurely, otherwise their mother would have crushed them with her insides by accident.

+ Biology moment: layers ::::0

What would an average driver look like if we could get them out of the car (It's not a tail, it's a stomach...):

In practice, it is not possible to get it out of the body without damage.

+ Bonus:

As for the various unintelligent animals? - In essence, these organisms are mimics... So we have bigger sane beetles and smaller silly-willy beetles and etc.

They don't really control their size. They will copy what they find. Intelligent vehicles figured out how to tame this creatures, which gave rise to the tractors we are familiar with, the bodies of which eventually went out of production for intelligent ones.

And yes, mimics are completely organic, except that the outer cover is imitated as metal. And that's why there may be meat in the markets.

🥩Have a nice day and thank you for reading🥩

[rycusfunnies]

Can I just say rq how much I appreciate the Cars 2 side of the WoC community? Like. We like the most hated movie(In all of Pixar too) besides Planes and y'all are like, the most coolest people I have ever met. Same with the Planes fandom even though I don't interact with it much. It seems to me movies that are hated in a franchise have a better fanbase. Or maybe Cars 2 and Planes is the exception..

We put our brains together, working on amazing theories and headcanons. That post talking about Leland and overanalyzing the transmission scene? MORE OF THAT PLEASE!!! I enjoyed CHIMING IN for that!!(Why are we not added on disc yet bro wtf we gotta talk. Put all of us in a room and YAP) We could make our own Cars 2 atp. With people who focus on the agents, the international racers. People like me focusing on the lemons - the antagonists. We know we're small, we know we like something universally hated. We love John Lasseters spy thriller film from hell. We all agree it had a fire cast of characters(Some cool ones got scrapped too!) from the agents, racers and lemons that could be utilized, much much better. For me its the way I see the 2010's and what makes me nostalgic about it. The concept was absolutely bonkers and we're humble about it. Why can't more fanbases be like this?

[praxcrown5]

Cars meme

Stolen from moparmemes on Instagram

[haunted-planes]

Put this guy out of his misery

[saber-monet]

[sukibenders]

Some in the Arcane fandom think they are being helpful when, regarding Mel having romantic relationships, they say "She's a strong, independent woman who doesn't need a (in this case) man", but they really aren't. Even if they don't mean to, or were being genuine, the statement is still riddled with many undertones because the "Strong Black Woman" trope is often placed on so many black female characters to often deny them the opportunity of love and care and protection that they, in fiction and real life, are often not given or given right off the bat in comparison to their counterparts, to the point where they don't even get the choice either, as well as to push them aside.

It's not even a compliment because, oftentimes, when this term/trope is used, it doesn't even take into account the amount of stress it takes to be strong, let alone strong and alone. Another thing, which also makes it very backhanded, this trope really rears its head regarding Mel from a lot of JayVik fans, some who I will give benefit of doubt while others know exactly what they are doing. Using this term to brush off the fact that, whether you ship them or not, Mel and Jayce shared a bond with one another and she would obviously be saddened to hear of his demise (unless some of you are still running with the trope of her being heartless or just like Ambessa, and even that loses weight when you see Ambessa call Mel her literal weakness). Like, apply this to real life, why would you automatically assume that a black woman doesn't need love just because she's strong? Why do you think she doesn't need to be held or consoled? Why don't you think black girls and women want to see black female characters who are, not only, strong and have power, but also loved and cherished in the same breath?

To add on, there's this trend in fandom of labeling a female character as a "girlboss" or "queen" or just any of these terms, but not doing/adding anything else to her character besides "She's strong!" but will write 1000 word essays on the male characters within the same media. Do you see the problem here? This happens with Mel so much to the point where people don't even know who she is as a character. People (specifically toxic shippers) said that she's just like Ambessa, but the show went out of its way to show you again and again why she is not. Or did you just ignore it/watch with your eyes closed?

[strip-weathers]

Cars as cats pt. 2