#...yeah okay i counted and there are 11 original characters but one of them we never see. so far.

[non-un-topo]

I've planned out 4 and a half chapters but it's not enouuugh

#there's going to be like.... maybe 15? or more #challenging myself this time by writing shorter actually readable chapter lengths #the pov switching seems kind of random too. they don't follow a strict order #i have a whole cast of characters written out too this is a serious project lol #because while there aren't so many OCs you get lost (hopefully) there are enough to need to remember their names #...yeah okay i counted and there are 11 original characters but one of them we never see. so far. #i'm going to start tagging this for my future reference #sage writes #fic: fool's gold #i literally can't possibly write a mystery about the queer quartet with only the 4 of them. perfero was close. there were like 4 OCs

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 03

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

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

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

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

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

I woke up late, the next day.

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

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

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

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

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither am I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s on your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W Series?” He suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I waved at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, for fucks sake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The two of us.”

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

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

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He messed up?”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stay?” She asked me.

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

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bye!”

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

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I turned to him, curious.

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

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

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

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

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

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

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

"I'll hold you to that."

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because of me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  *

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

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

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

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

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

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

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

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

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

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

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

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

"No."

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

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

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

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

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

Next Chapter: 04.

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

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

[wynnyfryd]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @thefreakandthehair @stevethehairington @wormdebut @just-my-latest-hyperfixation and @morningberriesao3 thank you loveliess

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27 dresses starring katherine heigl and james marsden

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

138,103

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things <3 My fics are all pretty exclusively Steddie or platonic Sstobin as the main focus, but I like to play around with the background ships - the best part of being super into a show with 14000 characters is you have so many opportunities for weird pair-ups

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

No Son of Mine

relax (lay it back)

TITS! magazine

Monsoon Season

relax (that's that)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I try to answer every comment I get because like, thank you for taking the time to let me know you read and liked my story you didn't have to do that and I love that you did

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

mmmm. I don't- HAHAHAHA okay wait, I was about to say "I don't really do unhappy endings" because I don't, but I did do a single angsty ending microfic as a personal challenge back in July

at the bottom you'll find all our friends

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weirdly enough I think it was the sex tape fic I wrote for @inklessletter lmao that fic turned out so much more 'aggressively married' vibes than I originally planned. Just absolute sap city

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Hope not lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

ADHD crack smut with a heart of fluffy gold

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written exactly one chapter of one crossover, which is a modern Stardust AU where Eddie is Tristan, Steve is the star, and 1980s Indiana is on the non-magical side of the wall. Also Eddie was trying to find the star so he could grab a chunk of it and barter it for a new electric guitar lmao. I really loved the premise I came up with and thought the first chapter was great; unfortunately the fic is fuckin cursed and will never be finished (by me. if anyone wants to take a swing at the story where I left it off feel free!)

stupid fucking star stuff

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

See #8

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes! @gorgeousgreymatter-x and I co-wrote the first installment of the yogi steve vs adhd eddie series as a birthday gift to @flintandfuss <3 we broke each other's brains with our linear vs non-linear writing styles lmao but it was a really fun project

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Steddieeeeeeee

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I started working on this goofy little crack fic forever ago where Steve was a member of the snooty grandmas-only Loch Nora Gardening Club, and he was all stressed out because the ladies had beef with the neighboring town's club and had somehow put Steve in charge of operation "publicly humiliate them by throwing a better annual fundraising party"

and then Eddie, being the impulsive horny dumbass that he is, was jokingly like "hey, you could come to my garden party some time" and Steve's like "you're in a gardening club?" "yeah, technically! sure!"

then Eddie drives him to Indy and pulls them up to this shady little sex club called The Pleasure Garden and Steve gets gently bullied by a drag queen lmaooo

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue dialogue dialogue. Also I think in weird synesthesia (some words taste bad, some memories smell like cinnamon, ya know what I mean) so I feel like my imagery toward the fun and funky side

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

All the silly important shit that goes around the dialogue. And writing a seamless big group scene - more than four people in a conversation and the pacing gets so ssx tricky

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Mmmm. I mean, I tend to avoid it unless the fic/character actually requires it. Like I did a Robin POV fic where Robin would think certain curse words in different languages because it seemed fitting for the girl who's fluent in four languages, ya know? Ooh, I do also love a good "character royally botches what they're trying to say" moment so foreign language phrases are fun for that

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Twilight

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm really just unreasonably proud of myself for writing almost 30,000 words of continuous story in 30 days. I've been trying to do that for years and never even come close

okay sick thanks for letting me ramble incessantly about myself this was fun!

as usual I'm late to the tag party but tagging a couple people anyway <3 @steddieas-shegoes @thisapplepielife @wormdebut @aidaronan @gorgeousgreymatter-x

#tag games #writer asks #writer ask game

[friendly-neighborhood-furry]

@anothertawogsideblog its been a while, but i still wanted to respond to this! first off, thank you for your compliment on this post, it really means a lot! second of all, yes! although whatever song you have to recommend, it might already be on here! (however if it isn't, dm me!! i have something for that ;3c)

i've actually been waiting for an opportunity to share this, so thank you so much!

this playlist follows Rob's character progression through the original series (wiiiith some gaps filled in ;3)

below the cut are my insane ramblings explanations of why i picked the songs on the playlist, where/how they fit into the timeline of events, aaand a couple of headcanons i have that were inspired by the songs :D i tried to be quick and concise and only talk about lines that REALLY stood out to me

WARNING: don't click on it unless you are prepared to do a bit of reading. legitimately i'm warning you here, there's well over 3K words on this (not counting the lyric transcriptions)

wow, really? okay, strap in!

Self- by Will Wood and The Tapeworms

this and -Ish were recommendations from my partner, so thank you to him :3

the respective opening and closing songs to SELF-iSH tied the og album together, so it was only natural that they serve the same function here.

the SELF-iSH album already deals with themes of identity, and i personally find Rob to be so interesting because of his complex relationship with his identity. or i guess the relationship that i perceive him to have

this song is short, but it's one of many songs that represents something we didn't see happen onscreen. for this one, its Rob getting zapped into the Void.

"well i don't remember 2012, but i heard the world would turn to hell, and compared to that, well, i'm doing well, so i pray to God it really did"

2012 was the year the show began, but its also a year where people believed the world would end. the connection is sort of paradoxical in relation to the show

"so when all my friends forget my name, no, i wont come back and be the same, no, i wont come back and be the same, and i'm gonna be myself again"

this part in particular is not only representing him being erased from the mind's of people who knew him, but also foreshadowing his eventual transformation...

the last line haunts me, because in my head animatic, its something he's saying to reassure himself that he'll be okay. that he'll get out of this and still be himself. which,,, i'm sorry, excuse me (UGLY CRIES HARD INTO A PILLOW) okay next song

Turn the Lights Off by Tally Hall

AUTISM JUMPSCARE

so this song is basically the ensuing panic and chaos from being brought to a place where mistakes are kept. most of my head animatic is just him wandering around in the Void and being chased or frightened by all the weird shit in there.

"eyes of yellow scales and feathers tails in tethers turn the lights off"

more foreshadowing,,,, how the white of his eye changes to yellow after the Void,,,,,,, how he gets a pig tail in The Future,,,,,,,,,,,,, yeah

Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott

Penelope Scott is a recurring artist on this playlist :3 (foreboding sense of doom)

"and i am not your protagonist i'm not even my own i don't know anything i don't even know what i don't know"

local boy achieves sentience, more at 11

"and if you look outside you'll see disintegrating trees the artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves"

these lines perfectly paint a picture of a world that is not real, again tying into him becoming sentient

"and if you look outside you'll see disintegrating trees the artificial way the sunlight bounces off the glitching leaves"

do i even have to say it.

"my wet heart catches on every thorn you're already halfway out the door"

Rob calling out to Gumball and Darwin and then seeing them ignore him in favor of Molly........

"and i'm so tiny and so old and god its never been so cold and it is 85 degrees i don't know what i need"

the ending to this song feels so hopeless and frustrated. which sadly, ties in perfectly.

ECHO by Crusher-P (feat. GUMI)

this is like. the ultimate Rob song for so many reasons. here are my takes!!

"the clock stopped ticking forever ago how long have i been up? i don't know"

reflecting on how long he's been in the Void. has it been a day? or has it been years? it's impossible to know

"why cant i see, why cant i see all the colors that you see? please can i be, please can i be colorful and free?"

so in this instance “seeing color” is a sorta metaphor for being important or interesting. things which he wasn't, based on being put into the Void.

then him longing to be important, to be interesting, to be out of this god-forsaken place

"what the hell's going on? can someone tell me please? why i'm switching faster than the channels on TV I'm black, then i'm white no, something isn't right my enemy's invisible, i don't know how to fight"

in reference to his surroundings being screens of TV static. realizing that his real enemy is whatever decides who’s important and who isn’t, but not knowing how to fight back against it

"the trembling fear is more than i can take when i'm up against the echo in the mirror"

at this point the "echo" is the boy he was when he was brought here. young and naïve, hopeful that somebody would remember him and care enough about to come rescue him.

"i'm gonna burn my house down into a ugly black, i'm gonna run away now and never look back"

this is him running after the van and leaving this fucked up place behind. the fact that these lines repeat and overlap each other really sells the amp up towards the climax that is him grabbing onto the side of the van and holding on until we flash to the other side.

"what the hell's going on? can someone tell me, please? why i'm switching faster than the channels on TV I'm black, then i'm white, no, something isn't right, my enemy's invisible, i don't know how to fight,"

this,,,,, this is after the memory wipe. this is the "who am i? what happened? whats… wrong with me?" that happens as soon as he's spat out the other side.

"the trembling fear is more than i can take when i'm up against the echo in the mirror"

now the echo is a ghost of his former self, before he was transformed. i headcanon that his pre-Void self's appearance haunts him like a ghost, never being fully visible or tangible in any way, but still undeniably there.

from this point on when he tries to interact with it or remember who he was, its like trying to grab fog. it just slips right through his fingers and dissipates into nothing.

Eighth Wonder by Lemon Demon

FIRST and ONLY silly song!!! this one is him sneaking into and hiding in the Watterson's house almost entirely undetected :3 (DON'T look at his body dysphoria look at him he’s normal he’s NORMAL)

Projections by CG5

hey hey hey hey hey DON'T look at the Bendy and The Ink Machine character on the cover of the song—look at me! this song is a PERFECTLY NORMAL CHOICE-hey hey! stop looking at The Projectionist look at me-LOOK AT ME! this is NORMAL.

just. hear me out, okay. just listen. to the song.

"in the dark i see everything there's no place that i'd rather be"

he's just some poor amnesiac hiding out in a basement. he isn't happy about it, but he doesn't have anywhere to go. no memories, no family, and goodness knows California isn't particularly kind to the homeless. he has nowhere else to go. this is what he has and he has to deal with it.

"way back in history, you could say i was very bright, but now i'm drawn to the deepest darkness, and that's where i find my light”

and now he's alone in the dark, where the only light he has is the light that emits from his body.

"everywhere that i look, all that i see is projections of what i used to be"

he sees the ghost of his former self so often, and he knows that it's a clue to his past, but he can never get a good enough look at it to jog his memories.

in the original song, the change in vocalist signifies that Norman Polk, (the soul trapped inside The Projectionist) is the one singing now. i though that was cool, so that format carries over here as the former self begins to sing!

"but i guess it'll always be like this cant change anything about this infinite abyss”

infinite abyss is the Void that lurks just beyond their world, all powerful and unchanging

“i cant believe that this is happening, not at all i'm literally a walking thing singing 'bout my downfall i can still remember the day that i drowned, but i never even died"

this is the part in The Nobody when he got his memories back and decided to pursue vengeance

"start the show and look up at the screen watch from the beginning to the end of the scene if you want to learn more about me just watch the projections of what i used to be"

the rest of the song is his acceptance of the villain role and the ghost abandoning him for it

Again by Crusher-P

the first song for The Nemesis!!!

okay so quick thing before we start: there's a cover of this song by Jayn and The Living Tombstone (MAJOR FLASHING LIGHT WARNING FOR THE VIDEO). this version changed the lyrics in some places which offered some SUPER awesome opportunities for angst stuff. i would have put this version on the playlist, but it sadly isn't available on Spotify :( so for simplicity's sake i'll just talk abt the original here :)

i sort of see this song as an argument between his current self and the one he left behind. how much this anger and resentment has changed him from what he was. some parts of the song are sung by his past self and others are sung by the present.

"i haven't been myself lately i don't blame you for not wanting to stay saying things that i don't mean not meaning what i say"

(lines 1 and 2 are present self, lines 3 and 4 are past self)

i think that after he accepted the role of antagonist, the ghost of who he was before just vanished. i like to believe it was afraid of him, and perhaps ashamed, too.

"when its good, its so good when its bad, its so bad even when i knew what i had what am i supposed to say when i end up driving everyone away?"

(present self)

wanting revenge can change you. you were hurt, or something was taken from you, and you want to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. when you have all of that anger festering inside of you, it can distort whatever idea you have of who you are—and that is what happened here. the anger and resentment not only permanently changed who he is now, but scared away what little of himself he had left.

"every inch of me is charred god, what happened to my heart? i'm about to fall apart again, again and you're never coming back and i'm not okay with that! and i should have never let myself get attached!"

(present self speaking about past self)

he's never getting back what they took from him. he'll never be the same, because of them. who he was — that's not him anymore, and its their fault.

"and its like every day is a fight for my life to get some self control and when you've forgotten who i am, it just feels, it just feels like i'm nobody at all"

(present self talking about past self)

again, the ghost disappearing after he accepts the antagonist role making him lose touch with who he was

"i lost myself hitting the ground i held my breath in case i drowned"

flashback to when he got spat out of the Void without his memories. when he got his memories back, he also regained self-awareness.

"i should have known when to let go and when to see who i was being"

maybe it was a mistake. but its still their fault. now he's REALLY mad.

Enemy by Imagine Dragons

i think you and i know each other pretty well at this point. you're reading my analytical mini-essay about this cartoon character. we’re being cringe together. you won’t make fun of me for choosing the jerma meme song.

the first part of this song is for The Bus. think of it as an internal monologue while he does his villain shit. this one also kind of touches on how he’s taking the nemesis thing a lot more seriously than Gumball is

the second part of the song transitions into the events of The Disaster.

"they say pray it away i swear that i’ll never be a saint, no way”

this is Rob reflecting the role he’s been given as antagonist because he wants to be the main character. he’s not content to be a good little character and stay in his assigned role, he wants freedom!

“a chair in the corner is my place i stay i shake and i think about the powers at play, the powers at play”

the powers at play are exactly what they sound like. it’s the show runners and the audience — the people who are watching and controlling his fictional world.

“and the kids in the dark that were doomed from the start,"

i've done a little digging into what the show creators have said about Rob, and from what i can gather it was planned for him to have had this happen to him from a very early point in the show. so. yeah. doomed from the start indeed

"love is a constant, love is a basis, he cannot be, she cannot be, they can not be changed goodbye..."

everyone in this story is powerless to change it. everyone... except him, now that he has the remote

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off

a classic villain rage song! most of this is him fucking up Gumball's life in The Disaster

"baa baa, black sheep, have you any soul? no, sir, by the way what the hell are morals?!"

fun fact! early prototype versions of Gumball made him a black cat to tie into his unluckiness :3 they didn't end up going with it because he was too hard to see against black backgrounds, but still. i like to imagine Rob knows stuff like that,,,,

"maybe you'll change abandon all your wicked ways make amends and start anew again maybe you'll see all the wrongs you did to me and start all over, start all over again"

this is that moment in The Disaster where Rob tries to reveal the nature of their world to Gumball

"oh, who am I kidding? now, let's not get overzealous here you've always been a huge piece of shit if I could kill you, I would but it's frowned upon in all fifty states having said that, burn in hell, yeah!"

but Gumball doesn't understand. so Rob gives up and decides to finish what he started.

"karma's gonna come collect your debt!"

at the end of the song its Gumball jumping in after the remote, Rob closing the AV portal like curtains, and Gumball managing to press the rewind button, transitioning into the next episode

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA

holy fuck i love this one okay lets go. now we're in The Re-Run, but these next two songs are replacing the ones that were there in The Disaster

"you don't have to be like everybody else you don't have to fit into the norm you are not here to conform"

again, rejection of the role he was given and what the universe wants him to be.

"i am here to take a look inside myself recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm"

now that he has the remote, he can be the center of it all. the eye of the storm, the main character.

"i am not my body, not my mind or my brain (ha) not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA i am the observer, I'm a witness of life"

i like the interesting position that sentience puts him in. he's watching the world with the context that none of its real, so he's watching it with us, the audience. but he's still living through all of these experiences like they are real because they’re happening in his reality, so he’s still part of the show and,,, yeah you get it.

"i live in the space between the stars and the sky"

line is in reference to how he's caught between worlds. he doesn't belong in Elmore, but he doesn't want to go back to the Void

Dr. Sunshine Is Dead by Will Wood and The Tapeworms

ooooh this one’s good. let’s get started.

"if we can't see each other, then there's no more use for hiding I've decided I'll abide it; why deny the color black?"

why shouldn't he have what he wants? he has all of the power to get it. who's going to stop him?

"i'm not a flower, not a solar-powered calculator Damn my eyes for seeing what's not there"

these lines are in reference to Leslie and Bobert, who get to be important and interesting and not having their lives ripped apart by the universe. god fuck those guys and fuck him for ever wanting to settle for being a cute side character when he could have THIS

"the future must know where you've been the past predicts the state you're in the present did and will not last is, isn't, was, have, hasn't, has"

this is the part where Gumball starts to get the upper hand and it starts to dawn on Rob that he's fucked

"all that i ask is, keep those empty frames if nobody's in them, then no one is to blame for your self-portraits, sign another name well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same?

Gumball ejects him. and now he's falling…

"and if dreams can come true, what does that say about nightmares? i'll stay awake tonight..."

if he can come so close to his perfect life, if he can wield the power of a god and still fail--is there any point in continuing to think he can be anything else? anything but a mistake to be cast aside and forgotten?

there's nowhere to go--no point in trying to be anything else. this is the end.

Bad Apple!! - English Remaster by RichaadEB and Christina Vee

STOP LAUGHING

okay so this cover is metal as fuck and i love it a lot but anyway- we're still in The Re-Run at this point. just for fun we're going to pretend he was in there a lot longer than he was in canon

"and maybe its a dream, maybe nothing else is real but it wouldn't mean a thing if i told you how i feel"

oughhh imagine trying to pull the wool away from someone's eyes only for them not to understand and leave you more isolated than you've ever been before.

"you could tell me what to say, you could tell me where to go, but i doubt that i would care and my heart would never know"

so what if he's a mistake? does any of it really matter in the first place if none of it’s real?

"will tomorrow ever come? will i make it through the night? will there ever be a place for the broken in the light?"

will things ever get better for him? will things get better for anyone trapped in the existential nightmare of their own fictionality?

will the mistakes of the world ever find peace, or comfort, or solace in what they are--toys to be ripped apart and cast aside by greater beings?

"if i find a way to change, if i step into the light then i'll never be the same and it all would fade to white"

imagine holding infinite power in your hands--the ability to rewrite reality to your liking, to step into the spotlight you've yearned for for so long, only to be sent back to the buzzing white hellscape where everything terrible began?

ramping up towards the climax of the song is when Gumball enters to rescue him from this place. Rob is running from him stubbornly because he's being overwhelmed by hatred and hopelessness- convinced an eternity of loneliness is what he deserves.

"this time you're not hurting me! this time i will take a stand! all the hatred in my eyes building up an evil plan standing lonely in the night, with the darkness by my side"

he finally gets ahold of the remote again. Gumball is utterly defenseless--and Rob has the chance to finish what he started. but...

"looking deep inside myself, and revealing only fright"

but standing behind Gumball is the ghost. his ghost.

"if i make another move, if i take another step then it all would fall apart, there'd be nothing of me left"

the person that he was- the person who would have done anything to even have the chance to be rescued, is right there.

if he does this--if he takes Gumball's life in favor of an eternity of loneliness--then he'll lose what little remained of who he was.

so he cant do it. he cant bring himself to do it. so he goes back

"so i'm back here once again, so i'm back here once again! will i ever make a change? will my heart begin to mend?

this one simple action, where Gumball goes back into the Void to save Rob even though he's won, it lets Rob forgive him in a sense. the two of them are friends now.

"would you love me if i go?"

but it cant last, even if he wants it to. he has to fix the mess he's created.

"it feels like a heart attack! but still everything's the same-"

so he rewinds, fixing all of the problems he caused. he finally stops just after he first got the remote

"and it all just fades to black"

he smashes the remote and the world goes dark as the credits roll and the music fades out...

Amygdala’s Ragdoll by Ghost and Pals

this is another song that takes place during some offscreen time, specifically the time between the rerun's end the ex's beginning.

there's a general theme of guilt and anguish in this song. he reason he “breaks up” with Gumball is tied to what happened at the end of The Re-Run. Rob feels bad about ruining Gumball life and he’s still struggling with the guilt of his actions along with everything else.

"an eye for an eye that's how the game works i'm losing my autonomy, a mutilated part of me"

being aware that you are fictional character and therefore losing what autonomy you had because somebody is making all of your decisions for you & having a mangled, broken body that's a distorted version of who you are or used to be.

"today something changed i figured it's true the frontal lobe placed me behind my own strings 'cause i defy the way the game works i'll say it again, i'm only getting worse"

yet another reference to Rob being sentient and trying to go against the show's narrative

"the dull assumptions that I've tasted decency waiting for the embers to lose their glow and I, and I dunno oh, all I've ever seen before were clusters of holes"

he's really been put through the ringer for like. genuinely no reason. what was the point.

“the fire and i, alone again the guilt and i, alone again”

ough this one hits. after everything that happened in the re-run can you imagine the kind of guilt he felt? like. friendly reminder that The Re-Run was an infinitely more fucked up episode than The Disaster because one character CEASED TO EXIST and another literally DIED onscreen.

jesus. being somewhat responsible for that happening has GOT to fuck you up.

Be Nice To Me by The Front Bottoms

this one is a breakup song that i put on here just for The Ex because there is no heterosexual explanation for it. anyway

the themes of hating someone you’re in a relationship with and trying to get them out of your life but they just keep showing up despite every attempt you make to push them away,,, yeah

“i got boulders on my shoulders collarbones begin to crack there is very little left of me and it’s never coming back”

CRYING

"you say i'm changing sorry, i didn't know i had to stay the same could we talk about this later? your voice is driving me insane, driving me insane!

you get it. you see the parallels.

"you're a werewolf and i'm a full moon all your very worst enemies will be gone soon"

oh boy, more foreshadowing! but yeah that's it for The Ex. moving on!

Infinitesimal by Mother Mother

this is one of the few super mentally ill songs that i let stay on the playlist.

this song has a general theme of feeling like an idiot for being upset about seemingly minuscule problems. its also a song about existentialism, which i thought was fitting

All The Rowboats by Regina Spektor

this ones for The Future! starting with him kidnapping Banana Barbara and ending with him being erased, then painted back into existence.

like. listen to these lyrics and TELL me it cant be tied to the paintings predicting unchangeable futures.

"all the rowboats in the paintings they keep trying to row away and the captains' worried faces stay contorted and staring at the waves they'll keep hanging in their gold frames for forever, forever and a day all the rowboats in the oil paintings they keep trying to row away, row away"

Rät by Penelope Scott

i imagine this takes place when Rob wakes up after being painted back into existence.

now he's dealing with anger and resentment over Gumball again, but now its different because he was TRYING to do a good thing but he STILL got FUCKED OVER ANYWAY.

"i fell for circuit boards rocket ships pictures of the stars if you could only be what you pretend you are"

if only Gumball could be a somebody who's worthy of being the main character

"let me level with you, man as someone guilty of the game i took the help, I took the cash i would've taken your last name"

in reference to Rob trying to replace Gumball using the remote, but ultimately choosing not to

This Is Home by Cavetown

this song is where i introduce one of my favorite headcanons inspired by this playlist: that Rob was the one who built the transformation machines from The Inquisition.

in this song, he's starting to work on his plans to save everyone as well as reflecting on his life and the decisions he's made up until now.

“i’ll cut my hair to make you stare”

okay so. you know that cluster of polygons on Rob's back? it’s supposed to be a backpack, but the fans (myself included) always draw it as a ponytail.

in The Inquisition, its missing.

i'm serious, go and watch that episode back. it's just gone.

this was probably a purposeful choice during production so that the audience wouldn't see his model clipping through the floor in the shots where he's lying down, since that would break immersion.

but in conjunction with the ponytail headcanon? oh man.

i like to think that after the events of The Future, Rob cut his hair. mostly because i just LOVE the trope of a character cutting their hair to symbolize change/character growth. not sure how it would work with his whole... whatever he has going on, but i digress

"are you dead? sometimes i think i'm dead 'cause i can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head but i don't wanna fall asleep just yet my eyes went dark i don't know where my pupils are but i'll figure out a way to get us outta here"

i don't think Rob knows about the painting, but what he does know is that the world is ending, and he doesn't want to disappear before he can have a chance to save everyone.

"get a load of this monster he doesn't know how to communicate his mind is in a different place can everybody please give him a little bit of space?

reflecting on how he handled the confrontation in the Future. he was so fixated on finding answers and getting rid of obstacles that he hadn't thought to explain the reasons behind his actions to anyone.

"get a load of this trainwreck his hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet but little do we know the stars welcome him with open arms oh..."

little does Rob know that while he works on a solution, the Void is waiting for him.

Moonsickness by Penelope Scott

getting all of the machines to work right is an arduous task. he's building all of them from scratch, conducting all of the necessary tests, dealing with all of the bugs and problems, and its all on a time limit. the world is set to end any day now and he feels like he's failing, but he has to keep going for the sake of everyone in Elmore.

Who We Are by Imagine Dragons

we've finally made it to The Inquisition!! think of this song sort of like an internal justification for his actions as Superintendent Evil (goofy ass name btw, there's no way he didn't come up with that because of the Dr Wrecker persona)

“it’s who we are, doesn’t matter if we’ve gone too far, doesn’t matter if it’s all okay, doesn’t matter if it’s not our day,”

its for the greater good.

"oh, wont you save us from what we are?"

"up in the attic, down in the cellar lost in the static, coming back for more oh, for more"

they need to do this. they need to change. there's no other way.

but things never go his way, do they?

7 O'Clock by Penelope Scott

after he gets knocked out via t. rex clobbering, in my head there's an intense dream sequence that this and part of Some Nights takes place in.

"a glitch in the game, i loop like a bug and all that i ever wanted was a really tight hug"

REMEMBER WHEN HE AND GUMBALL HUGGED IN THE RE-RUN? BECAUSE I DO

"a glitch in the game, i loop like a bug and all i ever died for was a really tight hug"

SCREAMING AND CRYING ANS SOBBING AND WAILING AND BANGING MY FISTS ON THE FLOOR

"the future is static, it drips on the floor and makes its way underneath my bedroom door"

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ARHARGGARRAFHRASFASGA (<- INSANITY)

Some Nights by fun.

oh my god we finally made it to the reason i made this post. if you've made it this far you have a problem (<- WROTE ALL THE SHIT)

so. this song is already about reflecting on your past. but my GOD its like they made this song for Rob because so many lines just fit him perfectly. lets get into it.

"but i still wake up, i still see your ghost"

when he started working on a way to save everyone, i like to imagine the ghost started appearing more frequently, eagerly watching him work on a solution and rooting for him to finally become a better person

"oh Lord, i'm still not sure what i stand for what do i stand for? what do i stand for? most nights i don't know anymore"

i'm. sorry guys i need a second. (UGLY CRIES SUPER LOUD INTO A PILLOW)

at this point he doesn't know who he wants to be. first he didn't know who he was. then he decided he would be someone driven by anger and vengeance. then he wanted to turn over a new leaf, but was dragged back into villainy.

so who should he be? the frail and scared amnesiac? the malicious and cunning villain? or... maybe, once all of this is over, he can finally choose for himself.

"well some nights i wish that this would all would end 'cause i could use some friends for a change! and some nights i'm scared you'll forget me again some nights i always win (i always win)"

I'M SOBBING JUST LET HIM BE HAPPY

"so this is it? i sold my soul for this? washed my hands of that for this? i miss my mom and dad for this? no, when i see stars- when i see- when i see stars, that's all they are"

this whole bit is him waking up and monologing about why they stopped him. if he's failed, what was the point of all of this? what was the point of anything?

"well, that is it guys, that is all five minutes in, and i'm bored again ten years of this, i'm not sure if anybody understands"

in reference to how people sometimes tune out in the middle of a show's the runtime and also. the show turned twelve this year. (kubrik stare)

"the other night, you wouldn't believe the dream i just had about you and me i called you up, but we both agree

the ground starts to shake under him and the floor caves in. we hear the final lines of the song as he falls in slow motion, deeper and deeper into the abyss.

"its for the best you didn't listen its for the best we get our distance, oh its for the best you didn't listen its for the best we get our distance, oh"

-Ish by Will Wood and the Tapeworms

in his final moments, Rob reflects on his life for a final time. falling through the air, he realizes that who he is, who he was, who he wanted to be never mattered anyway. because no matter what he did, it all ended the same.

with the world devoured by static and nobody left to defend it.

#I'M NORMAL #DON'T LOOK AT THE WORD COUNT LOOK AT ME I'M NORMAL #please read the notes tho it legit took me like a week to put together #also shoutout to the two random people on spotify who found this playlist and saved it before i posted it on here #no clue who you are but youre the real ones #the amazing world of gumball #tawog #rob tawog #tawog rob #dr wrecker tawog #tawog dr wrecker #blorbo posting #tomothy rambles

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

@monthly-challenge 2024 | 11. Bear Hugs

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,036

Nathan plucked a flower and, bowing and placing his hand on his heart, offered it romantically to Patience. “For you, my lady love, whom I always think of with everything I do. I love you with every fibre of my being, and am glad to present you with this flower as a token of my devotion.”

She swatted lightheartedly at his hand, but accepted it. “That’s literally a dandelion.”

“And it’s the best I have on offer here! This is all this garden bed provides!”

“I know,” she said, and ate it.

“You—! You would eat the flower I give to you, on this, the eve of Valentine’s Day—”

“I would, actually, and I’d do it again,” she said, snatching another flower from the weed in his hand and eating it. “Not that they taste very good.”

“Then can I suggest that you perhaps… don’t eat them?”

“You can suggest it,” she agreed, swallowing with a grimace. “Why does Mum have a garden full of dandelions if she doesn’t even want them?”

“Because they like to live ferociously, and she wants something for her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend to do that she can supervise from inside.”

“You might be right.” She pulled another dandelion and threw it into the pile. “I’m going to put ‘living ferociously’ in any gaps on my resume. It might make interviewers be interested in me.”

“Better than not having a job because you’re too busy thinking about not living, I guess.”

“Do you feel that way sometimes?” she asked quietly, pausing to look at him.

Nathan yanked a weed with unnecessary force and pitched it into the pile. “Sometimes, but not often. Don’t you worry about me, Patience.”

“I just want you to be okay, or at least okay enough,” she admitted. “I love you too much to want to see you struggle.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Please keep on trying, and tell me if you find that you can’t.”

“I’ll try. Is this a weed or is this something your mother actually wants in her garden?”

“You throw such shade that the shadiest loving plants would rejoice to be near you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“No, not really. Should it be supposed to be?”

“You’re tying me in knots,” he said, and tugged hard at a particularly recalcitrant dandelion. “I bet your mother secretly loves the dandelions, to let them get this much overgrown. Anyone would think this was a dandelion garden, not a whatever she wants going on here.”

“Dahlias.” Patience poked at the one example actually in the soil, which sat small and rather shrivelled amidst its more victorious compatriots. “In theory.”

“Ha, yeah, more theory than practise right now. Which is, I suppose, why she chucked us out here to weed.”

“What’ll she do if I weed out something she wants?”

“Replant it, I suppose. Mostly it’s dandelions, though.”

“I have noticed.” He removed another and tossed it through the air to the growing heap. “What do we do if these ones release some seeds and they grow a whole new crop in about two seconds?”

“We weed them again, I guess. Never can beat them.”

“I say find a weed that you actually like and make it fill the space. That would make the most sense of anything, I reckon.” Nathan twisted at one, broke the root and scowled at the pale result, which remained in the earth. “The dandelions hate me, Patience.”

“Don’t worry, they hate me too. They’re nihilists. They hate all the world.”

“Not sure that’s the definition of a nihilist, but sure, we’ll run with that.”

She smiled and leaned over to get another one, pointedly avoiding touching the dahlia. “I really hope neither of us is allergic to any of these plants because now would be a very inconvenient time to find that out.”

“We’ve been out here for half an hour; I think we would have noticed by now if that was the case.”

“Maybe, maybe not: maybe it’s just now starting to kick in and one of us is about to drop dead of anaphylaxis.”

“Not funny,” said Nathan soberly. “Some people have really bad reactions.”

“Okay, sorry.” She kept on weeding, glancing back once at the bare garden bed behind her, satisfaction filling her. “We’re doing pretty well here, I reckon. Almost time for a breather.”

“Sure, so long as I get a kiss out of it,” he said audaciously.

Patience stared and laughed. “That was not what I expected, but I mean--sure! Go ahead and kiss me.” She stood up, muddy-handed, and spread her arms wide.

Nathan took her hint, closed the distance between them and kissed her.

“I’m all over mud,” she said, flushing as she stepped back afterwards. “You’re going to get muddy.”

“Oh well!” he said, and jumped forward with energy, flinging his arms around her.

Given her rather precarious stance, this was a foolish move.

They tumbled into the freshly turned up dirt, he closing his arms tightly around her in a bear hug and twisting as he fell to get the brunt of it. Their landing was soft, but elicited a startled shriek from the lady.

“Careful!”

“Are you all right?” Nathan asked instantly, worried. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” She scrambled up, covered in mud, and commenced to giggle. “Don’t worry, you just gave me a shock.”

Satisfied she was all right, he also began to laugh, and they laughed together over the mishap. Patience patted the extraneous dirt from her person and tried to wipe it from her face. This was not a particularly good move, as it simply smeared on her face.

“We’re going to look like we were squabbling,” she said, almost choking on her laughter. “We’re going to look awfully guilty.”

“Everyone knows we’re not doing anything weird,” he said, coolly ignoring her implication, which on reflection she was quite happy with. “I’ll just tell people I came in for a hug and bowled you over. They’ll believe it.”

“Also it’s literally true,” she pointed out.

“True!” he replied. “We can try again and have another hug with better results this time.”

Reader, their second bear hug had similar results.

Tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun @graycedelfin @pilgrimsofworship @noisette-tornade and @choasuqeen

#I had to rewrite the first half because I literally deleted 500 words of it and i was so sad #februfluff2024 #nathan #patience

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

Weekend WIP Game

Thank you for tagging me, @rmd-writes and @thisbuildinghasfeelings!

I know I am very late to this, but it is still technically the weekend here in the Pacific time zone, so here we go. I'll be using the questions for Artists/GIF makers. (There are also questions for writers in @welcometololaland's original post!)

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only work on one project at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

1. WIP List:

I am so afraid to see these all written out in a way where I can count them. [deep breath] This is a rather mixed-up list of gif sets for 911 Lone Star, Schitt's Creek, and The X-Files. Also, since they're gif sets, they don't really have titles, just nicknames:

husbands fancy dinner lizard arc kisses quotes of devotion come rain or come shine spin instructors flashbacks yes way meet the parents until i'm okay, too pile of good things best man wedding attire tk stays capable and decent unspectacular things endless act of being loved gravity of hearts simply the best reassuring head kisses he's a jungle cat wedding behind the scenes soft light/tooms/squeeze hope is messy iris/tk arc you are good and i love you

2. Which WIP is your most complex?

Oh gosh. Anything that involves coloring of more than one scene, really. That's what slows me down. And pretty much all of these fall into that category. Which is a big part of why they're not done yet.

3. Do any of your WIPs involve you using a technique/style that you haven't used before? What inspired you to try it?

Um. Possibly? I'm not far enough along to know for sure, but I think a couple of them might involve trying out a new text treatment.

4. Which WIP do you expect will take you the longest?

I am historically a very bad judge of this. Lol. There are plenty of potential obstacles in that list. I'm afraid to jinx it/make things worse by saying anything specific.

5. Which WIP are you finding the most enjoyable to create?

The "lizard arc" set has been very enjoyable to play with. And I suspect that "he's a jungle cat" will be very fun to eventually get back to.

6. Do you have a favourite character to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

Hmmm. Not really. I mean, I certainly tend to focus on my favorite ships, but I can't really pick a favorite from that group.

7. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

All of them. Because I am self-taught and constantly second guessing absolutely everything.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of creator's block?

I suppose so. Although It's more lack of energy or just… utter frustration that results in a WIP getting a time out.

9. Do any of your WIPs contain characters outside the main ship? How are you finding creating those?

Yeah, definitely. There are a couple on that list that focus on other relationships.

10. What emotions are you hoping to convey through your WIPs?

It varies. Some are angsty. Some are meant to be funny. But I think, in general, they are all trying to convey love.

11. Are there any features/details you are finding challenging in your WIPs?

[gestures wildly at the lighting teams on every show, thwarting my best efforts to see what's going on]

12. Which WIP has the most complex shading/colouring?

Don't know yet. All of them. Lol. I can tell you that the "fancy dinner" set has been in time out for months now. Because of lighting and coloring.

13. Which WIP has the most complex background?

Not sure this one applies to me.

14. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for?

Oh, I really don't know. My opinions here change all the time.

15. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

I normally do not remember my dreams. But very recently, I dreamt that I had finished one of those sets. I was very disappointed to wake up and realize it wasn't true.

16. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other art doesn't?

Hmm, I don't think so.

17. Are any of your WIPs commissions?

No, but some of them are friendly requests or things that came about from chatting here on tumblr.

18. Do you have a character that is more difficult to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

I'm going to go with Patrick Brewer. That boy's face just… goes nuclear bright whenever I try to brighten a scene overall. There are a lot of rather pale characters on that show, but they take pretty well to coloring/brightening. He does not.

19. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

Um. Some items have been on that list for years. They're not abandoned, I promise. I am just not in charge of the creative process.

Since it is barely the weekend for me anymore (and no longer the weekend for many of you), please consider this an open tag!! If you'd like to play along, go for it. Even if the weekend has passed you by.

#weekend wip game #creative process #ask game #rmd-writes #thisbuildinghasfeelings #creator asks #tag game

[capybaraonabicycle]

7, 11, 12, 15 for... Fugitive maybe? 😊

Thank you so much, love <3 I very much enjoy talking about her, indeed.

Let's put it under a 'read more' to hide the pictures I took of Origins. Not quite sure how legal that is, actually. I'm ready to take the images down in any case.

7. the moment of theirs that made me the happiest

See you around, see you around, see you around!!!!

Listen, I just want more fugitive Doctor <3 Always. This promise of hers was so, so sweet <3

Generally, that whole scene was a TREAT. I nearly screamed when she walked into the room (okay, maybe that was the moment that made me happiest, actually) and then her roasting the Master was *chef's kiss* (btw I am very sure that the fugitive Doctor does not know the Master and simply drew from the rest of the hologram's information to pick on him <3). And then we get 2s of Yaz x fugitive Doctor interaction?!

Amazing scene, loved every second of it.

11. my favorite relationship they have with another character

Hm, that's difficult. I do love Gat x fugitive a lot. I like to think of them having been very close while working for the Division - seldomly of the same opinion, but with huge mutual respect and trust. I imagine they liked to rile each other up with their contrasting views and enjoy the bickering, but have each other's backs when it counted.

And then, as we know, the Doctor and Lee left Gat behind - which in this case I am convinced was deliberate (Karvanista being left behind was an accident, I believe, at least on the Doctor's part). I think it was a difficult decision for the Doctor but in the end she decided, Gat would not be okay with the disappearing act enough for it to work with her involved.

And then Gat is hunting the Doctor. And the Doctor kills her (or does she?) because she has to. Because there are two versions of herself she has to keep safe and Gat killed Lee and she is cornered and she has to. And then she spends her time on the run mourning all of her friends.

Like, there is so much tragedy in that relationship that we can fathom even though we only saw the broken remnants of it.

(This is a little contradicted by Origins btw, where it is implied Gat doesn't think highly of the Doctor, but I like to imagine one of Vinder and Yaz was Gat in that scene in Once, Upon Time.)

And I feel like I also need to mention Taslo, because contrarily to Gat, we do see a lot of their relationship developing. And A) I love mentor/mentee relationships and B) the fugitive Doctor is like the perfect incarnation to have an apprentice??? (she's so much like 12 in vibes, she needs her own Bill Potts) (Also Taslo is a tiny bit Mels!coded so, yeah...) Just, like, look at this:

teaching her valuable life lessons <3

while being slightly condescending <3 (look at her smug face <33)

the GRAB (Ma'am, what are you doing?? are you going to walk her out there backwards?)

and then the development!!! the handholding!! the softness!! looking out for her mentee!! look at them 😍😍😍 (also the division trauma TM)

The above two panels are the best thing ever. Together with the weeping angel they are totally worth the comic alone. And the rest is amazing too btw 🥰

12. what i like about the way the fandom portrays them

Hm. I like that we as a fandom generally have a lot of love for the fugitive Doctor and look up to her. I have rarely seen anyone portray her as anything other than the (slightly morally ambiguous, perhaps) hero, the badass, the one who calls the shots. I also do like that we seem to agree on her glasses being perfection <3

I actually also enjoy that people keep mentioning her in the same breath as the war doctor. But I like him a lot and they have some similarities (beyond being the 'extra Doctors'). Also when people do that it tends to be opposed to those who forget about both, so -

Not really the question, but just in case you would like some recs on good fandom portrayals:

Art: 1(this one is by Roz :) ), 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Fic:

The Cul-de-Sac (the fugitive Doctor arrives late but there is thasmin to tide you over and the wait is so worth it),

picking up a penny with a press-on (I really need to reread it because I barely remember what happens, just that it hurt in a really good way and made me wish Yaz would leave 13 for her in the end of potd before the episode aired),

Softness (Do you like good omens? This one is short and fluffy and bittersweet. Slight Lee slander if I remember correctly),

the wild ones (perfect, favourite fugitiveRiver fic <3 I think I still haven't left a comment here but I keep telling the author how much I love it on tumblr instead 😅),

Gorgeous (not sure whether you like reader inserts but this was written for me and it basically inspired the comic I made for my mum)

And this (puppet stories featuring the Doctor x dhawan!Master and others - like here Karvanista <3 (pure fluff, this is so wholesome, let me tell you - maybe you already know?))

Also Pine coming up with the perfect ship name for fugitive Doctor x Mels

15. what i dont like about the way canon portrayed them

Maybe the fact that she killed Gat? But like, that's because I believe there would be a lot more potential for stories if Gat and/or Lee were still alive. (also I want her not to have lost all her friends but, well, yeah-) I do believe the Doctor might be ready to kill her friend in a situation as extreme, like I explained above. So, like, the portrayal is fine, the decision simply does not please me.

Also, generally, we don't see enough of her. But it's the 13th Doctor's show, so that's fine? Like, I want to see her grieve her friends and meet Karvanista again and fight with Tecteun and talk to the fam and explain why her TARDIS looks like that and that it's the same ship... but I get why there's no time for that.

AND I DON'T LIKE THIS:

Like, great that she's there. (She better be if you put dt twice but anyway.) But HOW. Jo is TALLER than Jodie. And you couldn't like, put anyone else behind the arm? Or use a 13 who doesn't point the sonic? Why. Who did this? I just want to talk

(also is it me or does Jodie look a little weird here? just - not like Jodie?)

Also - not actually canon but close enough - I hate that she is still The Doctor | Ruth Clayton on ao3. That's not what we call her! That's confusing, because Ruth is a different person! I love you so much ao3, but make two tags for them! - I actually wrote a request about that quite some time ago but nothing has come of it yet. Maybe I'll have to ask again.

#I just love her so much #thank you for the ask <3 #jennyandvastraflint

[sunnyie-eve]

11 | Spelled

Series: No Prince Charming

Paring: Harry Hook x Original female character Princess!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

"Oh, no. Okay. Who got onto Jane's cake?" Carlos shouts at the other kids.

Bella tries to calm Carlos down about him worrying about the cake till they hear shouting outside and run out to see Audrey with the scepter and crown.

"Wow, my example to y'all was right." Bella turns to see Mal old.

In order to help Mal turn back onto her normal self they had to go to the Isle to get Hades ember. All Bella had to do was changer out of her skirt into pants Evie had made her that she's been meaning to give to her.

"Hey, I'm me again." Mal says as they arrive and Bella gets of Jay's bike.

"Duh. Evil magic doesn't work here. Kind of the point." Celia tells her leading the way to her dad.

Carlos turns on the tv to show that the man was talking about Audrey is behind the spell so they rush out to see Harry, Gil and others stealing their bikes.

"Long time nay see." Harry smiles.

"Get off my bike, Hook." Jay tells him.

"Catch me if you can, Jay." Harry takes off so they rush to stop them while Mal and Celia go to Hades.

The four end up losing them so they just met up with Mal once she was finished and they head back home just for Harry and Gil to jump through before the barrier closed.

"We made it, bro." They cheer.

"Hey, guys. We're just coming for a wee visit." Harry says so Carlos and Jay try to stop them.

"Stop it you guys." Bella tells them as Mal drops the ember and it goes towards the water but Uma shows up catching it before getting out of the water to join them on the bridge.

"Uma, you swam off and forgot all about us." Gil tells her as him and Harry join her side.

"Yeah. Planning her revenge, no doubt." Mal crosses her arms.

"It's not all about you, Mal. I was looking for a hike in the barrier to let everybody out. And you know what I found, boys. It's way better out there than we thought. There this thing that looks like a furry rock called a coconut. And fish so big you could dance on their backs. And they've been keeping it all for themselves."

"Uma, Mal kind of needs that to break a spell. Ben's ex, Audrey, sleeping beauty's daughter." Bella tells her.

"Mm. So the good guy is the bad guy?" Uma laughs, "Well, I might not give it back. Let's see what happens."

"Uma, it's not the time for games! People's lives are in danger!" Mal yells at her.

"Guarantee me that every single villain kid who wants to, can get off the Isle." Uma walks back some.

"I can't do that." Mal tells her.

"Can't do that... How about now?" Uma holds the ember over the water.

"Deal. Deal."

"Uma. Her word is good." Evie tells her while Bella looks at Mal knowing the truth.

"I'll still keep this, for the time being. Because of you think I trust you to save the world on your own, think again. This is a job for pirates."

"We can always go back to hating each other when this is over." Jay tells Mal so she agrees, "Where our bikes?" Jay turns to the guys.

"Oh, yeah. We crashed them." Gil smiles while Harry demonstrates it.

"Here's a thought. We could try to be friends. Put our history behind us and celebrate our differences. Yeah? Who wants gum?" Evie steps forward.

"Jay, the bridge, please." Bella tells him while Mal ans Uma bicker about who's in charge.

As they walk across the bridge, Harry grabs Bella's wrists as she walks in front of them pulling her back, "What happened to your visits?" He says making Mal look back at them.

"So you did go see Harry too on your trips to the Isle. You lied to me and Evie." Mal stops turning back.

Bella looks at Evie, "She lied to just you. I knew she saw Harry and Gil too on her trips." Evie comes clean.

"You lied to me too?"

"Can we talk about this later? We have Audrey to deal with right now." Bella tells Mal so they start to walk again.

Finally arriving they see everyone was asleep and couldn't contact anyone one. "So you hung out with Harry and Gil?" Uma stands next to Bella.

"Yeah, we got close. I wanted to get to know them more." She explains and sees Harry taking someone wallet, "Harry, no. We don't steal people's money here. Especially when they are under a spell." She takes the money out of his hand putting it back in the guy's wallet.

"You're no fun."

"Boohoo." She walks him to Uma and Gil.

Carlos comes across Dude who tells him what Audrey did to everyone either making them sleep or turn to stone.

Then Uma and Mal start to argue about where to check first and Bella gets annoyed, "How about I make the decision first since Ben is my brother and I want to check on him. So I beat you and you. Blood wins." Bella heads off for the castle so they all follow her.

Arriving at the castle they don't have much luck looking for Ben and end up in the knights room. "Okay, he's obviously not here." Bella looks around at the big empty room.

"You still have the ring." Harry picks up her hand making Jay eye the two.

"It was a gift, so yes." She take her hand back as they follow Mal and Uma to the dead end.

And since they were too busy arguing they didn't see the knight in front of them moving till Harry yelled at them.

"You like a Prince, Mal? How about a knight and shining armor? Or Knights." She makes all the knights come alive.

Watch your back, watch your back Watch your back, watch your back We can counter their attack Hit 'em 'til the armor cracks

"This could get a little sticky. How to win this battle could be tricky. But I know the best way, fall back, let me lead. You hold the line and we'll bring them to their knees." Uma tells everyone as they arm up.

"Swords in the air if you're with me. They got us outnumbered one to fifty. But victory is ours 'cause I got a strategy. You take the left and the rest of you can follow me. This is my crew." Mal tells Uma.

"This is my squad." They argue.

"This is my turf."

"Oh my gosh. Look, guys, we've got bigger fish to fry. Put your differences aside. Cause right now we're on the same side." Evie stops them.

Until the night falls, everyone We'll stay together 'til the battle is done Watch your back, watch your back Watch your back, watch your back We can counter their attack Hit 'em 'til the armor cracks Until the night falls, we're aligned It doesn't mean that we're on the same side Watch your back, watch your back Watch your back, watch your back Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast They're too heavy to react

"This situation's getting kinda heavy. Hold your weapons tight, keep 'em steady. Cause if we stick together, we can make it out alive. I'll cause a distraction, you attack them from the side." Mal gives instructions.

"All my soldiers stand at the ready. We can cut 'em up like confetti. We'll hit 'em from the front, you counter from behind. Don't forget the fate of Auradon's on the line." Uma adds.

This is all-out war, they got us outnumbered The way the swords clash is the sound of the thunder And we are not going under, we will never run for cover We battle for the victory and ride for each other

Until the night falls, everyone We'll stay together 'til the battle is done Back to back, back to back Back to back, back to back We can counter their attack Hit 'em 'til the armor cracks Until the night falls, we're aligned It doesn't mean that we're on the same side Back to back, back to back Back to back, back to back Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast They're too heavy to react

"Suit of armor strong and true. Make this metal bust a move!" Mal spells the knights.

Until the night falls, you can trust I'm gonna help you win this battle because I got your back, got your back Got your back, got your back All for one and that's a fact Knights fall, pitch black

#thomas doherty #harry hook #descendants 2 #descendants #descendants 3 #descendants oc #descendants au #harry hook descendants #descendants mal #descendants evie #descendants carlos #descendants jay #descendants uma #descendants gil #dcom #vks #disney #villains

[aeoki]

Seven Bridges - Love and Peace?: Chapter 11

Location: Yumenosaki Soundproof Lesson Room Characters: Ritsu, Mao & Hitsugi

Ritsu: Well, that just goes to show how there are weird dreamfests at our school.

You can get some funding from the Student Council if they approve of your proposal, so it basically means you can do anything you want without spending your own money.

If it was ES, it has to be something profitable. It’s a money-making business, after all – you can’t do anything based on your interests unless you do a good job.

And work offers from outside, like TV stations and stuff, come through ES instead of directly through Yumenosaki or personal means.

Not to mention the contents of the work have to fit under ES’ rules too.

All the work that’s conducted at ES is managed by them, passed down to the agencies and then allocated to the idols. ES’ intentions and wishes come first; the idol’s come second.

The order is just different. At school, the idol’s intentions and wishes come first and the project can only start once the Student Council gives their stamp of approval.

Hitsugi: O-Okay…? I get it but I kinda don’t?

Arashi: Ehehe. We don’t completely know what’s going on, either. It hasn’t been that long since ES started opening its doors.

We’re all in the middle of thinking about how to face the huge existence called ES.

We don’t know it well enough to give a proper explanation just yet.

Ritsu: If anything, Kurocchi, was it? You’re like a “producer”...

So shouldn’t you be the one explaining all these difficult things to us idols instead?

That’s what a “producer” does, right?

Arashi: Yeah. That’s what a “producer” or “manager” does, isn’t it? Originally, anyway. We’re used to doing everything by ourselves so we tend to forget that.

Hitsugi: Whaa~ I’m sorry for not doing my job properly! But I was thrown into the “producer course” before I knew it…

And to be honest, I don’t really get what it means to be a “producer” or idol.

…What does a “producer” do?

Arashi: We’re not the best people to ask.

Ritsu: He’s a real weird one. He sounds impressive just by having the title of a “producer”, but it looks like he can’t even tell right from left.

He kinda reminds me of Anzu at the very beginning.

She was suddenly thrown into the hell that was “Trickstar’s” revolution and it looks like she had no choice but to deal with what was in front of her.

Arashi: I’m surprised she didn’t just run away… She’s really amazing and strong, Anzu-chan.

Hitsugi: Hehehe, looks like everyone loves Anzu-senpai! That’s the impression I’m getting! I like her a lot too!

There’s only bad stuff in store for her if she gets involved with me but she still helped me despite that.

She can be kinda weird sometimes.

Ritsu: Hey, this isn’t related to anything but how’s Anzu doing recently?

Hitsugi: What do you mean? She’s having her meals, sitting her classes and falling asleep, I guess…?

Ritsu: Not that. She’s been working her butt off at ES and I haven’t seen her at school much lately.

Arashi: Yeah. When I saw her during the “school job” the other day, I realised it’s been a while since I last talked to her. I do see her at ES working, though.

But I can’t feel her presence at school at all.

Ritsu: Presence? I guess I do know what you mean.

Hitsugi: Uhh, I don’t know if you know but for the dreamfests at school, the “producer course” chooses which producer should produce which idol.

Either the idol or the “producer” can submit proposals for dreamfests.

But which “producer” will oversee that project depends on the decision that’s made within the “producer course”.

That’s why projects for popular powerhouse units like “Knights” is quite a big deal. Things get pretty complicated.

There are too many people who want to produce “Knights”, so a lot of the time, it’s decided by lottery.

…Also, they all say Anzu-senpai had them all to herself last year, so she’s generally not even counted in.

She’s not someone who would overly assert her wishes in the first place. She’s overpowered by the “Peace Party’s” pressure and is forced to back down.

They’re telling her to take a hint.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

#seven bridges

[stingyslegslookweird]

Curvier - a short essay-type thing

Okay, it's been 11 years, I have to share a theory. I'm fully aware that basically no one who currently follows me and/or pays attention to the things I post about will understand anything I'm about to say, but tbh I've put way too much into this to really care.

Anyway, you guys ever heard of TOME? :D

If not, it's this neat little 15-episode (technically 16 if you count /FILE:ZERO, 25 if you also count the Season 1 shorts, and 26 if you count all of those plus AvZ, the 5-year anniversary short) animated web series about two teenagers, an imp, a dragon-man, and a [REDACTED] who get together and fight criminals in VRchat.

Jokes aside, it's really good and you can watch it here. Seriously, go do that. It's so damn good. Today's the 11th anniversary, you literally have no excuse. At least watch episode one, otherwise the rest of this post will make absolutely no sense beyond the most surface-level of details.

Okay, done? You've watched Episode 1? Good, good. So...

In the first episode, specifically around 3:06, Nylocke pronounces Kirb's username wrong, to which he replies "It's Kirbopher. It's like Christopher except curvier." But... it isn't, though, is it? Merriam-Webster Dictionary (the most official dictionary, as we all know) defines a curve as "to have or take a turn, change, or deviation from a straight line or plane surface without sharp breaks or angularity", its synonyms including bend, curvature, arc, bow, and crook. Basically, any circle, half-circle, quarter-circle, oval, etc.

To be fair, assuming the onscreen textboxes are actually a "thing" in TOME itself, as opposed to a visual effect only used to tell the story, one could claim that the font Kirb's player uses is rather curvy itself (and they'd be right), but is it curvier?

After checking Google, I quickly found a list of every font used in the show, gathered in this here Google Doc by one unicornfoal (their username didn't pop up in the menu thing when I tried to @ them so idk if they still go by that), which tells us that the font Kirb uses is "Spicy Sushi Roll".

With the font determined, we can compare the curviness of the names. To do this, I typed each of them out in a word document, took a screenshot, and pasted it into my photo-editing software of choice. There, I created this handy diagram detailing every curve in the letters, in addition to offering brief definitions of my terminology and method for determining what counts as a curve.

Also, as an aside, I'm really proud of how this turned out, especially with the lines and colors and the grid in the background. Like... man. Not to suck myself off or anything, but holy hell am I good at this.

Anyway, as you can see, the name "Kirbopher" has 7 inner (convex) curves and 8 outer (concave) curves, adding up to a total of 15 curves, which, assuming I'm correct about all this, had to be intentional. "Christopher", on the other hand, has 10 inner curves and 11 outer curves, which adds up to 21 total curves. Therefore, "Kirbopher" is not only not "like Christopher except curvier", but is in fact less curvy. This revelation, while shocking, isn't my final point. No, no. Because this rabbit hole goes deeper, dear reader. First, though, we must talk about parallel universes a long-defunct 2000s internet forum.

Long before TOME was a 15-episode web series, its world and characters were conceptualized in a 70-something long series of sprite animations on Newgrounds, known as TvTome Adventures, or TTA for short. Based on the forums of the TvTome website, which now redirects to tv.com, the series featured characters based largely on the forum's users, including one white sword-wielding marshmallow-thing by the name of Kirbopher15, pictured below.

Yeah. That's... more or less Kirby in a hat. Somewhat Kirby-like. Kirbyish? Though, to be fair, it could probably be... kirbyer?

And that's where my theory kicks in. Buckle your fuckle because this is gonna blow your damn mind.

What if, and hear me out here, the original line wasn't "curvier", but instead "kirbyer", as in "more Kirby"? It'd certainly make more sense, seeing as, one, the character was originally just a Kirby recolor in a hat, and two, the name Kirbopher is literally just "Christopher" but with "Chris" replaced with "Kirby", minus the y.

Why was it changed, then? Seeing as it's so early on in the show, which has been stated to have had somewhat of a rough production, almost not making it past four episodes, it could be out of concern over copyrights, trademarks, or other legal issues possibly arising, were the show to be, say, picked up by a TV network or something. Even though Kirby is an actual name that real people have, when you factor in the character's previous incarnation, it could definitely be taken to mean the Nintendo character, instead of a regular person's name.

Oh, and one more thing. Tumblr, being very art-driven by design, is home to tons and tons of artists, writers, voice actors, etc., both amateur and professional. Plus, because Tumblr lets you @ blogs you know the names of, someone with an insane theory about a single throwaway line of dialogue in an episode of a somewhat niche web animation could, say... @ the creator of said animation, assuming they're on tumblr in the first place, and ask if they're correct in their long-winded assertions, or are simply talking out of their ass. So, with that in mind...

@kirbopher How'd I do?

#tome #terrain of magical expertise #kirbopher #kirbopher15 #tvtome adventures #tta #good lord i actually spent like three hours on this #i meant to rewatch all of tome today in preparation for the 11 year anniversary video that's coming out today #and somehow i watched like two minutes of episode one and worked right past the premiere of the new video #but anyway #kirb if youre reading this first off thank you for listening to my ramblings #second thank you for tome and everything it encompasses #third congrats on 11 years #and lastly i just wanna ask: ravenfreak is TOTALLY a theater kid right? #k that's all have good day :3

[the-whispers-of-death]

i feel like i should preface this with: these arent fandom ocs. theyre in their own universe thats 100% made up

uhh. okay hm. so the only 2 with actual personalities and stories. and im now remembering theres probably more than 8 lemme give a small quick summary of. everyone? oh no.

so theres 2 "main" stories in their own respective universes, but one of them is going trough wip and rewrite hell rn.

the ones from said rewrite hell are Typlus/Void (they/it); Vast (he/him); Elly (it/its); Melz (he/him) and Steph/Stephanie (she/they). fun fact it all started as a rewrite of the bible and the impending doom of the planet. or something, i dont even remember anymore. but now theyre just a big family sorta chilling out on their own planet at the physical edge of the universe. its more of a concept than actual ocs, so i have things to draw when i dont know WHAT to draw. nothing is set in stone, nothing is real here. and none of them are human.

and the other is more.. grounded in reality that ive been chipping away at slowly for the past year or so because the characters decided to make my brain into a 5 star hotel

theres elias (he/she/they); dominic (he/him); marcus (he/him); elizabeth (she/her); andrew (he/him) and amelia (she/her)

theres 2 seperate families within this: the jamesons, which includes elias as the son and andrew+amelia as his parents, and the DeAngelo's which is the 3 others, but theyre siblings instead

the only 2 with personalities right now are dominic and elias, who are also in a situationship with eachother, and will probably remain that way for the rest of time

story's basically just "what if the disgraced son of rich parents who happens to be an owner of a bar/club (elias) meets the guy who mans a stand at a farmers market (dominic). and what if they were both t4t. and what if they ended up being workplace lovers/friends w benefits"

elias is lowkey a very unlikeable and bitter guy, very self centered and speaks without thinking. dominic's the reserved type who only speaks when spoken to, but very willing to resort to violence when needed.

does this make sense. i dont know. oh and i counted, theres 11 of them, if we dont count the spin-off AUs as characters. (like when i decided they should be hybrids. or the royalty au. or the mafia au that was actually the origin of all this nonsense)

theres also 2 filler ocs i use whenever i just need a placeholder character for any situation: red and sylvester, but neither of them even got as far as getting designs from me but theyre there

theres. so much content on my main about these idiots that a friend made a sideblog just to sort it in one place. and even after this he hasnt sorted everything lol

.... shit bad news i think i have like 30 ocs actually, i just remembered another batch from ages ago. so. uhm. anyways. and does a made-up species of flower count as an oc. because. yeah. ive got that too.

~ rusty (i get embarrassed when OCposting to others sorry)

I think I need separate asks on both the rewrite hell and the wip stories, because they seem too interesting to be in one ask. They deserve their own separate moment to shine.

I'd love to hear more.

And I'm contemplating adding some of my other OCs (is it still called OC if I made the universe?) in, just because I've been stuck in this limbo of not even finishing a chapter in a book I've started writing and I've had these characters & universe in my head for roughly two years.

#tyler's asks #tyler's inbox #tyler answers asks #answering asks #asks #other ocs #oc talk #anyways sorry I derailed the ask there at the end #but I'm really interesting in knowing more about your OCs in each separate universe in-depth #rusty anon #:)

[tapas-and-stuff-productions]

The Deities Project: Part 6

An early notion for the Keys & Kingdoms universe was to divide its world into sections ruled by three pantheons, and those would be the historical pantheons of Greek, Norse, and Egyptian mythology! As it turned out, the 3rd Edition D&D supplement “Deities & Demigods” included stats for those exact three pantheons, and I carefully studied that for guidance on how to reinterpret those legendary pantheons for use in a fantasy world.

And so began this project: drawing all 53 historical deities depicted in that book. Casey Gosselin drew their symbols and Stacy Lord drew the characters themselves. Neither saw the illustrations in the D&D book, but we stuck to what the book claimed as their symbol, their sacred weapon, and very general appearance. The big project lasted from October 2019 to August 2020. Since then, we’ve been putting more research into the real myths and other gods, but these will still form the foundation for the core members of the pantheons and what they’ll look like when the K&K universe begins.

This is an 11-part series presenting all the art anew and talking about the ideas behind it! Presented in the order in which they were done, which is approximately in the order of strongest to weakest according to their rankings in the D&D book. Don’t forget to check out Stacy and Casey’s own pages:

The son of Baldur looks, eh, more like his dad than some other gods do. Both Casey and Stacy counted this design among their favorites and it’s easy to see why. Casey did a great design for his head - yes, for whatever reason, his symbol is nothing more than his own face - and Stacy got to build off of not only the very cool hairdo Casey gave him, but also one of my more interesting ideas for an outfit.

The symbol just needs a few modifications for world consistency - firstly, Forseti is the god of justice and balance, and so his symbol should be wearing a very neutral, symmetrical expression, not the smirk she gave him. And then there’s the general fact that Casey’s art style is more gritty and real than Stacy’s, so… his symbol is more realistic than his actual face. That’ll need some fixin’ in the actual world, hehe.

Thoth, also of the primordial Ogdoad pantheon - while Ptah is the most ancient and powerful of them, it’s Thoth who is implied to have once been the leader of the Ogdoad, having invented writing and mathematics - this fact enabling people to somewhat place him in history, as his presence is itself missing from the historical record. While Ptah and Bes married into the pantheon, Thoth just kinda showed up.

That’s all story ideas derived from the D&D interpretation of Thoth. Further ideas of mine alone include the notion that he never speaks… that seems appropriate for his mystique. And since it’s hard to be emotive with that long ibis beak… well, I originally figured his final model wouldn’t include those expressive eyebrows Stacy gave him, but, no, reckon we ought to keep those! So he can be expressive. Yup. And, as I mentioned with Set, I figure his neck will be a bit less human in his final model. Oh, and, yes, I made him a white guy. Because I figured every pantheon should represent people on a global scale, and that meant, yes, turning a handful of the Egyptian gods white as well. I guess I found the one instance where that would be the fair thing to do.

Stacy listed this one among her least favorites. From what she said, I think it’s mostly an issue of construction, she’s thinking the proportions are weird and that his lively dancing doesn’t look lively enough - the actual design, I hope she’s okay with, because I think it’s really good. The leopard print is a nice standout bit of detail we don’t see much in the collection, and I’m rather proud of my color choices on his staff, the thyrsus; after Casey drew it as all silver, I found I liked that idea for his symbol but that the real thing ought to have a splash of color on it, with a wood handle and a real pinecone and, yeah, went with purple for the ribbon - quite appropriate to his personality.

He’s got a pretty good story to him I think is worth examining in the K&K universe with some modifications appropriate to the world itself. And as in some writings in the myths, Dionysus will sometimes take over Hestia’s seat on the council of the twelve Olympians.

Sister to Osiris, Isis, and Set, but well below them in current power and influence according to the D&D book. Apparently a far more important death god than her son Anubis - heck, you’d never know that from how much attention Anubis gets in modern interpretations…

This is one of my favorite designs, for being probably the most blatantly erotic character in the collection, the amazingly detailed wings, and just all the haunting mystery she exudes. She’s a central figure in the story of the birth of Sobek and Anubis - not just for being the person who happened to give birth to them both, but also having a proactive role in the events surrounding it. Nice to see a mom in ancient myth having some drive! I came to really admire and sympathize with the character from skimming those events, and thinking hard about how to tell a good story surrounding them.

I’m… not entirely sure what this dude’s deal is, haven’t seen him in many Norse myth writings outside the D&D book. Seems he’s a Jotun, and he and his wife generally stay out of the gods’ business, just living in their undersea mead hall where the gods are welcome to visit if they don’t talk shop too much.

Had some fun with this design. I like that he has bear claws, I had the idea that in the future his club could be very distinctly made of some driftwood, since he has a deep-sea theme. And here’s where I said to Stacy, eh, how about we try a different Black skin tone this time? That felt well-timed, good that it happened exactly when it did. And then his crazy hair, the mustache, the huge beard-braid, the insane eyebrows… ultimately ought to stick to my rule of Black characters having Black hair textures, but hopefully won’t end up too different from what we have here!

Casey counted his symbol among her faves - that is indeed a very impressive cresting wave. And, yes, it’s Aegir and Set who are the two gods who don’t actually display their symbol anywhere. Just couldn’t find a good way.

#TAPAS and Stuff Productions #Keys & Kingdoms #The Deities Project

[koishua]

→ RED LIGHTS / PARK SUNGHOON

pairings: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst

word count: 2.2k

warnings: major character death, hospitals, blood mention, traffic accident mention, food mention

synopsis: park sunghoon never expected his birthday to end up as the day he hated the most.

notes from vie: hi everyone <3 i originally had intended this to be for a large fic but my motivation has dwindled down so i am not sure if i will ever post the full thing, so i brought out a part of it that you can read as a standalone! hope you enjoy!

i really hope you can give me your thoughts about this by the end of it! feedbacks and reblogs help writers a ton<3

december 8, 2021, 10:49 pm.

“happy birthday, sunghoon.” you slip your fingers through his after he blows out the candles you had placed on the small cake for him with a shy smile. you dip a finger into the white frosting, scooping up a decent amount of it to smear it onto his chin.

“hey!” the grin on his face only widens at your lighthearted chuckles. he doesn’t mind the uncomfortable feeling on his face as long as you are right by his side. he doesn’t mind it as long as he hears your voice over and over again.

you let him smooth a spoonful of frosting on your nose, giggling at the odd heaviness of the ingredient, “that does feel very wrong.” taking a small plate and a knife to cut two slices, he snorts, “see?”

you plop on the soft couch to take a taste of the spongy cake, humming with satisfaction, “this one is better than the one we made last year.” sunghoon leans his arms on your side, nudging your shoulders playfully, “it’s because i had a hand in baking it. who knows how terribly it would have gone if you had done it alone?”

the roll of your eyes amuses him, “yeah, whatever. you are still somehow a terrible cook, though.” he sets his plate down on the coffee table before his stretched legs to wrap his arm around your shoulders, “i have never broken any utensils, though.”

he glances pointedly in the direction of the kitchen counter where a mixer stands, pathetically broken down. eyes back to stare into your mildly irked ones, he pinches your cheeks, “it’s okay, i still love you anyway.”

you huff, slapping his arms away to continue enjoying your dessert. “whatever, let’s just hurry up and get going to the rink.”

december 8th, 2021, 11:05 pm.

“you have to pull this down more.” he stops you by grabbing your hand before you can dart out of the door, excited for the young night. the beanie resting on your head hadn’t covered your ears yet, “i don’t need a sick cuddlebug.”

“fine, mom.” you adjust the collar of his jacket for him while he pulls the knitwear further down your hair, tucking a few strands behind neatly. the tips of his fingers brush your cheeks affectionately, “you’re such a kid.”

“yes, so you are obligated to never let go of my hand.”

and so he makes a promise to never, ever let go of your gloved hands that night and beyond. he makes a promise to always keep you safe and happy, to always make sure you were healthy and right by his side. he makes a promise to hold your hand never let go.

he makes a promise, breakable and fragile, easily forgotten. he makes a promise he vows to keep, one that alters the course of his life forever, a hundred times. he makes a small promise to never let go of a girl’s hands, not to ever let anything happen to her so long as he is by her side. it’s a vow he makes, so little and warm, that brings him nightmares for the rest of his nights to come.

sunghoon makes a promise. he smiles and takes your hand in his, tightly wrapping them around yours for you to swing them back and forth as you tread through the icy streets of seoul. “okay, i promise.”

december 8th, 2021, 11:29 pm.

“look at all those sweets!” your eyes are locked onto the windows of the shop across the street, glancing at the green light of the crosswalk. “do you want to check it out before we go to the skating rink?”

he purses his lips, “sure, why not?” anything for you, he thinks while looking at your glowing smile, stars flickering, twinkling behind those lashes of yours. you tug on his hand, slowly making your way to stop before the white stripes.

the light turns red.

the light is a bright and obnoxious red as a little girl slips on the ice gathered on the ground, her short legs buckling beneath her. she looks at her hands, pink from the friction and coldness, tears brimming in her eyes as she looks around for her parents that had gotten lost in the crowd from before.

the light is so painfully red as a large vehicle starts desperately honking at the pedestrians who stare as it inches closer, skidding on the ice while the little girl cries, unaware of the speeding car, the driver having lost complete control over the wheel.

the light taunts sunghoon, because it is so agonizingly red, red, red when he feels your hand slipping away from his hold. time slows down for him as he watches your fingers leave the safety of his palms, the red light you run towards giving him a sinister, cruel glint.

the light is so distractingly red while his feet stay glued on the sidewalk, as you dart onto the crosswalk and everyone in the vicinity screams. his eyes are stuck on your beanie that falls down on the wet asphalt, forgotten as you rush five steps ahead. the beat of his heart goes unnoticed by his ears that are deaf to all sounds but the screeches of tires, the little girl’s wail, and the loud ringing in his head.

the light is red when he hears one last honk, then a thud.

and the light is still red when all blood drains from his face, when he sees the dark crimson trickles of life behind the black car, his vision blocked by the panicked strangers rushing to crowd the crosswalk. sunghoon feels disoriented, world turned upside down.

his hands tremble, clenching around empty air where yours should have been securely wrapped around. a man begs for help, a woman stumbling closer towards the scene, a hand over her mouth as she wails in agony.

“my daughter! someone call for an ambulance!” ah, it registers numbly in his brain. her daughter was there, too. somehow, sunghoon can’t begin to feel sorry for the woman and her husband. somehow, he can’t help but feel so achingly cold.

it is december the eighth, the night of his birthday. it’s december eighth and he had been on his way with his lover to spend some time together at the local outdoor ice rink. it is december eighth, his birthday, and the night he had been planning to propose with a ring in a small velvet box.

it is december the eighth, the night his world loses its sunlight and the night his world crashes into the ground.

“excuse me,” his voice shakes, puffs of white hot breath escaping his mouth. he pushes through a few women whispering among themselves near the steaming car, “i have to get through. excuse me.”

nothing feels real at the moment, surreal to the point where he harshly turns his fingers into a fist, feeling the distant sting as his nails bite into his skin— it’s not one of his nightmares that you’d wake him up from, cradling his head in your chest, soothing his heavy breaths down. it’s not a nightmare, nor is it a dream, at this moment.

the light is still a bright red, the rough surface beneath his feet a deep crimson. he shivers twice, rounding the side of the car that had blocked his vision. he doesn’t even feel his hands anymore, nor does he really even feel anything else at all. he feels red, blue.

it’s red, the lights.

there you are, he stills. his heart is caught in his throat, struggling to let air through to his lungs. an older man notices the heaving of his chest and the way his eyes are locked right onto the woman laying sideways on the ground, the little girl safe in her hold, away from the direct impact.

“it’s terrible, isn’t it?” the man’s gravelly voice reaches his ears, his tone of pity clear and so, so loud. sunghoon reaches his hands, knees weak and eyes brimming with unshed tears. “she’s my,”

sunghoon heaves, feet suddenly gaining the strength to walk further down the stained road while the small number of people let him through. most grimace in understanding, it is hard not to make connections when he is so distraught. he sounds desperate, “please, let me through.”

the two parents of the little girl glancing at him with eyes as red as the light above the street. “please, move out of my way.” his world spins, vision unfocused yet clear at the same exact time he sees your fingers twitch the slightest amount.

“i,” he falls to his knees, hands trembling with such force as sobs rack throughout his body. “is no one a doctor here? please,” his head whips around, handsome features twisted in clear torment, begging for help. his hand finds yours, the one that had moved so slightly that he wonders if it was all a hallucination, a mirage of his steadily dying hope.

“are you related to her?” the man from before quips, watching the way sunghoon blankly stares at your unmoving body. “someone, help.” is his only response to anything ever said to him.

help.

his insides tear themselves apart for he can’t help you. his mind begs for his body to do something, anything, to stop the cold seeping into your skin and creeping up your limbs. every single cell in his body is in strain. voices that surround him, like the distant sound of the ambulance that carefully makes its way through the brightly lit streets of seoul, agitates him.

help.

sunghoon is not a doctor. he is not a doctor that could have helped you. he is just a mere figure skater who had dedicated his life to the ice. ice, he thinks again bitterly, feeling the distinct frozen substance melt under his knees. sunghoon is not a doctor, he can’t help you. he feels so utterly forlorn, pathetically weak and powerless.

“someone, please help.” the strength seeps out of his body as he leans forward, forehead touching the ground next to your hand as his hands clutch yours. he feels like he is underwater, everything a blur and muffled, drowing. he is drowning in the scent of the cool winter air at night, the smell of the food stands— he is, maybe even, drowning in the sight of your lifeless form, in the sight of the wound on your temple where he often adored pressing a tender kiss to.

he is suffocating and he is so, so lost. “help,” he begs, “please, help.”

december 8th, 2021, 11:57 pm.

jake is there.

jake is there.

jake is there.

jake is there in the blindingly lit hallways that reek of medicine and death. jake is there to watch as his best friend crumbles down into a mere speck of himself from before. jake is there to try and keep a steady breathing while one of his best friends is fighting for her life, while the other is barely clinging onto his sanity.

jake is right there to watch from the hallways as three different doctors raise their voices at each other, nurses rushing to try and stabilize the erratic lines that spike up and down on the screen of the monitor. he is glued to the spot behind the open door to watch as two male staff restrain sunghoon whose face, once flawless, is smeared in deep and dark red, eyes bloodshot and streaks of dried tears visible, new ones dripping down his chin at a constant pace.

jake is there to watch one of his best friends fighting for and losing her life while his other friend is breaking down into irrecoverable pieces, shattering before his eyes. there he is, feet unmoving as the doctors still, beads of sweat giving a light sheen on their foreheads.

there he is as the line goes perfectly flat.

sunghoon’s ears ring and he feels all of his strength leaving his body, all fight drained out of him when he sees, through his blurred vision, the unmistakable line of a lost life. then, jake agonizes, sunghoon crouches on the floor.

then, jake weeps, sunghoon holds his head between his hands, fingers digging into his hair and knuckles paling. jake stops breathing when he hears, for the first time, the sound of pure agony ripping through his best friend’s throat. he feels his heart stop when the image of a brightly shining sunghoon split right through the middle, webs of cracks expand throughout the image of him.

december 9th, 2021, 12:00 am.

sunghoon is completely lost.

#enhypennetwork #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon angst

[madswonders]

A Lesson In Romance #11: Actions

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: A little ✨spice✨ and a little ✨action✨

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, gun violence, mild (???) dirty talk

Word Count: 2.3k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they pretend to be married.

A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to the Classy Restaurant Music playlist on Spotify for capturing the fancy restaurant vibes I needed hahahah

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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"You know, this is not how I imagined coming back here." You said quietly. Next to you, Spencer smiled.

Your eyes were still adjusting to the warm light, a stark contrast to the blue winter evening outside. This was your second time here, technically, but the sensation of his hand on your waist and the cool metal on your left hand made it all feel brand new.

"Table for Mr. and Mrs. Reid." He said to the hostess, calmer than you'd ever seen him before. You didn't miss the way he tugged you closer when he said "Mrs." and despite the truth of the matter, giddy smiles tugged on both your lips.

But it was the hostess' reaction that gave it away for you. When she glanced at your intertwined hands and matching rings with a soft smile, you began to realise why the two of you were chosen for this in the first place. The effect you had on each other was hypnotising.

Sending you and Spencer undercover as newlyweds was probably the easiest decision Hotch has ever had to make. His reasoning came from basic human psychology; people are drawn to extreme events, and while this generally applied to accidents and tragedy, it also applied to marriage and child birth.

In this case, few things would stand out more in a crowded restaurant than a pair of shiny new wedding rings, a large bouquet of flowers, and a bottle of champagne for two. And to top it all off, he had the two of you. Everything else came secondary.

Still, it was strange. Being isolated from the operation only made you more in awe of your team. Even under the duress of three hours, they operated like clockwork; devising a comprehensive undercover mission, building a profile for an unsub they didn't even know, and training an entire restaurant's staff in a handful of hours.

By the time the final pieces fell into place, all that was left was for you and Spencer to carry out the final stage of the plan.

Maybe it was the pressure of having the entire team rest on your shoulders, or this new "character" you had to play, but something felt different tonight. It was like electricity crackled in the air; you felt it when his hand lingered on your back, low enough that you felt a growing warmth in your belly, making you yearn for his touch long after he let go.

Maybe it was the stress from going undercover for the first time that made you trail your gaze down his suited figure, muscled and lean as a side effect of this job. Maybe that's why the image of him standing at the foot of your bed in this very suit couldn't leave your mind, until the physical action of squirming in your seat jolted you out of your own imagination.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Spencer locked eyes with you, his hazel eyes dark under the dim restaurant lighting.

"Just thinking about you." You admitted, placing your hand across the table. He took your hand in his instantly, his thumb tentatively resting on the jewel on your ring finger.

"All good things, I hope?"

"Nothing but good things."

"Well, perhaps I can add to that. You look beautiful." He pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his eyes crinkling playfully when your cheeks turned pink in response.

"How do I know you're not just saying that for our audience?" You whispered, eyes darting to his tie where the mic was hidden.

"If it weren't for our audience, I'd be saying a lot more, love." He replied lowly, and you bit back a thought you didn't want any of your colleagues to hear. You could already imagine them cringing as they listened in on your conversation, and the image made you giggle.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Dr. Spencer Reid?" You accused jokingly.

"When love is not madness, it is not love." He answered simply.

You thought for a moment, before the reference clicked in your head. "Pedro Calderon de la Barca. Interesting choice. You weren't lying about your education in classic literature, doctor." You looked impressed.

"I'm hurt that you even doubted it." He mocked insult, and you grinned.

"No, I'm just surprised."

"Wait until you see my actual surprise." He smiled, gesturing behind you as a waiter appeared carrying two plates in your direction.

"I took the liberty of ordering our food in advance." He explained. When you looked at him in surprise, he simply shrugged. “I figured I should expand my theory beyond breakfast.”

"And here I thought tonight couldn't get anymore exciting." You said, marvelling at the appetisers as they were placed in front of you two.

“You can reserve your compliments for when I guess everything correct, and I will.” He mock bowed.

“You're on." You giggled. "Now, can we finally have some of this champagne?"

Dinner went by smoother than you thought it would, and thankfully for your team listening in, your conversations steered away from thinly veiled flirting to classic films as the food appeared.

Not that it was any easier for you talk about Billy Wilder and Francis Ford Coppola with what was happening in front of you. Spencer had taken to playing with the ring on your finger while you talked, and each time his long fingers brushed against yours, it sent chills down your spine.

But it was when his leg brushed against yours underneath the clothed table that you felt yourself lose grip of your facade. The first time it happened, you even thought it might be a mistake. But after the second and third time, it was clear that Spencer knew exactly what he was doing, even if the innocent expression on his face didn't betray anything.

If you didn't know him better, you would even think that he liked it, teasing you underneath the restaurant table on case, where you couldn't act on it. Instead, you pushed away the thought and allowed your skin to prick with every touch; all the while you sipped on your champagne, taking the chance to observe the patrons around you through the rim of your glass.

Unfortunately, your luck was a little worse in the unsub department, and your concern only continued to grow as your entrées made way for dessert.

Before you entered the restaurant, the team had discussed the best-case-scenario for tonight — identifying and apprehending the unsub quietly before the dinner shift was up. But if you ran out of time, there was always one back-up plan, something that would definitely force the unsub's hand.

The good thing about having two unsubs now was that victimology became incredibly simple to decipher. What you and Spencer had considered inconsistencies at first, were now clear patterns distinguishing each one.

The first one was impulsive but experienced, driven purely by a compulsion to complete his pattern as fast as possible. Despite that, he had the sense to stick to high-risk victims and secluded locations, which made him so hard to catch in the first place.

It was the second unsub that was interesting. He seemed more controlled and calculating, choosing low-risk victims and public locations. The team profiled him as the narcissistic component of the original profile. The more high profile the victims, the more they attracted him.

And now that you’d spent the entire night drawing attention to yourselves, all you had to do was present an easy opportunity for the unsub to pounce — right into the BAU’s trap.

The moment Spencer beckoned you to come closer, you knew something was up. "Listen carefully, love. I'm going to call for the bill, and we're going to go outside. If I'm right about my guess, the unsub is going to be right behind us. Do you understand me?" He whispered into your ear, low and calm.

You made an obvious move to cup his cheek as you leaned back. "Can we go home now, baby?" You cooed. Yeah, you got him.

As you walked out of the restaurant, you intentionally stumbled as you clung onto his arm, letting out a loud giggle. Your gaze fixed adoringly on your date, even as Emily and Hotch called for their bill on your left, Derek and Rossi no doubt already rounding to the front of the restaurant from the back exit.

"Trust me." Spencer murmured as he opened the door for you, and when you nodded, he pulled you into one final kiss for the public. What you didn't expect was for him to move his hand down and squeeze your ass, causing you to let out a loud squeak at the doorway.

If anybody was looking at the two of you before, they were certainly staring now, and the doctor confirmed this with a low whisper. "He's coming."

When he finally caged you against his car, you had to remember not to go overboard for your listening colleagues, but you couldn't help but let out a quiet moan into his mouth as he pushed his leg lightly against your core.

"Sp— Spencer—" You breathed, locking your fingers behind his neck.

"Just hold on a little bit more, love." He muttered, cupping your cheeks with his large hands and stroking your hair. "Just a bit mor—"

You heard the sound of a gun cocking next to you as you broke apart, lightly gasping. A middle-aged man stood in the shadows, waving his gun aggressively. Bingo.

"Get into the car."

The two of you raised your arms warily. "Who are you?" Spencer shouted, moving to shield you from the unsub.

"I said, get into the car!" He yelled. "Starting with you."

"Okay, okay." The doctor conceded, unlocking the car and slowly getting in the backseat. He left some room for you to get in next, but the unsub trained his gun on you.

"Not you, sweetheart. I'm going to finish you right here." He narrowed his eyes at you. "Drop your bag on the ground."

Everything seemed to fall silent as you slowly lowered your bag, and your hidden gun, to the ground. When you stood back up with your hands in the air, the unsub slammed you into the side of the car and you groaned at the sudden impact.

You didn't need to gather your senses to know that his gun was pointed right at you.

"Leave her alone, James." Spencer threatened, already out of the car and levelling his gun at the unsub. All around you, the team moved into the light.

"FBI! James Luther — put the gun down." Hotch ordered.

The unsub looked shocked for a moment as he looked around, finally realising the situation he was in. His expression was unusually calm, and it chilled you to the bone.

"Very, very interesting. Are you a fed too?" He sneered down at you.

"It's over, James. Either you put the gun down, or you don't walk out of here alive." Spencer warned, but the unsub only laughed.

"I should have known that it was too good to be true. It's not often I get such a perfect couple, much less one with a wife this pretty." He drawled, waving the gun in your face.

"Spencer. I'm okay." You ordered through gritted teeth, already knowing what the genius was about to do.

"Look at her, so brave. Are the two of you even married? Or is everything about this fake?"

"I won't say this a second time. Put the gun down." Spencer repeated, cocking his gun straight at the unsub's head.

"T-think about this, James." You reasoned. "If you kill me, they'll kill you, and you won't be able to hear what the press will say about your murders after we expose you. Isn't that what you want? Don't you want to stop living in somebody else's shadow?"

The unsub's grip on his gun slackened. "They're not going to run a story on me. Why would they unless I keep killing?"

"They will if you give us the names and descriptions of all your victims, and we will make sure your face is front and centre for every single one." Spencer added. The unsub looked into both your eyes, seemingly searching for a hint of a lie, but there was none.

"Fine. Looks like the lady lives, this time." He gave up, dropping his gun to the floor and putting both hands on his head.

"James Luther, you are under arrest for the murders of Lucy Patt..." Derek recited his rights while dragging him away. You braced yourself against the car, catching your breath.

"Are you okay?" Spencer rushed over, sweeping you into a hug before you could even reply. You buried your face into his shoulder, tears welling up in your eyes involuntarily as you inhaled the familiar scent of paperbacks and coffee.

"I-I'm okay, baby. I'm okay." You mumbled, not sure if you were reassuring your boyfriend or yourself in that moment.

"It's okay, just let it out. You're safe now. I'm here. You're safe." He repeated, stroking your back as he kissed the top of your head again and again and again until you lost count.

You'd never been so relieved to arrive back at the BAU. Penelope was the first to give the two of you a big hug when you returned, fussing over the small cut on your face and the bruises on your arms, while you reassured her that you'd been cleared by the medics to go home.

"Good work today, both of you." Hotch called out from behind, shooting a small smile at you and Spencer. "Reid, take her home, and take a day off tomorrow. The two of you deserve it."

"You wouldn't be able to drag me into work tomorrow if you tried." You joked, and Spencer chuckled. For the first time, he wasn't about to argue with an order to take a break.

Nor was he about to argue when you asked him to come in to your apartment, or when you asked him to stay the night.

The only thing he wanted after tonight, was you.

---------

Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @mellowalieneggsknight @kenny-0909 || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

#mads fics #spencer reid x reader: a lesson in romance #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fic #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x reader smut

[ilici]

221141425 3165

Summary: Karl finally hand delivers the bunny tail to Y/N and finds out she works at a Bunny Maid Cafe.

{Numbers mean Bunny Cafe}

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2809

Karl was now getting off the plane, as he walked to the baggage claim to get his suitcase. Niki and Karl had hid this from Y/N the entire time, making her think he wasn’t coming at all. Once he had his luggage, he was soon looking around for Niki, who instead was picking up Karl instead of picking up Y/N. Seeing her bright pink hair, he walked towards her a bright smile on his face, “Karl!” Niki said once she saw his fluffy brown hair. “Hey!” He said, pulling her into a quick hug, “How was the fly?” She asked, and Karl shrugged, “It would have been better if I wasn’t seated next to an old man who was snoring the entire time.” He said, which made Niki giggle. “I told you I would have gotten you first class, but you denied it.” She said, as the two walked towards her car.

“Yeah yeah.” He mumbled putting his suitcase in the trunk, “I am picking her up from work right? How long is the drive to your house?” He asked, not wanting to be late to pick her up. “Just down the road actually, but Y/N’s work is a ten minute drive. I’ll text her and tell her that I am picking her up instead, but it will actually be you driving my car. She usually is in the back, cleaning, so just wait for her outside.” She said, as she pulled into her driveway. “You weren’t joking when you said it was right down the road.” He mumbled, looking around seeing they lived in a somewhat secluded area. “Yeah, well, I will take your stuff into your room, you should head to her work. I’ll send the directions to you.” She told him, and he got out of the passenger seat, going to the drivers seat. While he was pulling out, his phone dinged indicating that Niki sent him the address for her work.

Pulling it open while watching the road, he saw that he led him to a place called ‘Coney Cafe’. Pushing the directions for it, the monotone robotic voice spoke up, telling him the way. Listening to it, he played some music to fill in the silence when the robot wasn’t speaking. As he was driving, he became more and more nervous, he didn’t know how he’d react or how Y/N would react. His heart was beating through his chest, and he gulped when he saw the little cafe appear in his line of vision. It was small and cute, from what he could see. Getting out, as it was still day light he locked Niki’s car, slowly walking into the cafe. His eye’s nearly bulged out of his skull when he saw three girls in an outfit similar to the ones Y/N was showing him days before. He looked around, seeing only one guy in a outfit that matched a butler, but settled on his head was a pair of bunny ears.

Karl’s first thought was he was at the wrong place, but when he saw a pair of white bunny ears on a similar set of hair, he froze. Y/N slowly walked out, in a white latex outfit, that was identical to Mai’s, and a pair of red knee high socks. He saw her carrying a tray of what seemed to be buns, and she kindly greeted a stranger giving them their desired food. Turning around, Karl locked eyes with E/C eyes, and he felt the breath get knocked out of him. Her eyes were adorned with red eyeshadow that matched her socks, “Karl?” Y/N said shocked, and Karl just let his eyes travel over her slowly, “Hey..” He said, nervously scratching the back of his neck. Sadly, he couldn’t see her smile as it was covered with a mask, that had the cafe’s name on it. “You’re here?!” She said shocked, and he sheepishly nodded his head. “I’m here.” He said, adjusting the mask on his nose, as it kept slipping from him speaking.

“How, what? when?” She asked confused, walking towards him slowly, only then did he realize their height difference. She was about Y/H, and her eye’s seemed much more innocent looking in person. “You work at a maid cafe?” He asked, and Y/N nodded her head, “Niki recommended it, she knew how much I liked wearing stuff like this, and she saw this cafe when she was out getting a tour from Wilbur.” She explained, as she led him to a table to sit him. “Wait here while I finish up.” She said, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Karl was in the UK sitting, waiting, for her. The only way she recognized him was by the hair, the eyes, and the light blue Sapnap hoodie he wore that stuck out like a thumb. She knew something fishy was going on, because Corpse accidentally said Karl wouldn’t answer her for hours since he was on a plane. Before she could even ask, Corpse laughed and said, ‘Joking’ before hanging up.

She smiled and waved goodbye to her boss, who was always helping around the cafe whenever she was able to. “Bye Notori!” She said, as her boss waved back with a smile that was hidden behind her mask. Sighing, Y/N was mentally groaning because she had to open today, which meant she was awake since 4 this morning. Walking back out from the door that read ‘Staff Only’ she tapped Karl’s shoulder, “Do you want anything before we go? I usually fix myself a cup of Boba.” She said, and Karl just looked at the menu that was on the wall. “Yeah, I want to try the red velvet boba?” He asked, somewhat confused. Y/N smiled, “That’s new actually, it’s milk tea with red food coloring, and boba pearls that taste like red velvet cake.” She explained to him, going behind fixing their drinks. As Y/N made their drinks, Karl couldn't help but look at how amazing her body was, “Like what you see?” He heard a voice behind him, and he turned around coming face to face with the guy he saw earlier. 

“I’m Vincent, but I prefer Vince.” He said, holding out a gloved hand to Karl. Karl hesitantly shook it, “You like her, don’t you?” He asked, and Karl’s face went bright red. He was thankful his mask covered his blush, “What makes you think that?” He asked, and Vince just grinned. “I’m like her older brother, I can tell.” He said, leaning in, “She likes you too. She hasn’t shut up about you since she met you.” He whispers, which made Karl have a boost of confidence. “So, where are you from?” Vince suddenly asked, changing the subject rather quickly, “Uh. Oh, I am from North Carolina.” He said, and Vince nodded, “So what made you work at a place like this?” Karl asked, noting he was the only boy here. “My mother owns the shop, we originally had the shop in Japan, but we moved here for better business, and because my step father lives here.” He explained, and Y/N walked back with two drinks in her hands.

“Hey Vince!” Y/N chirped happily, and Vince just patted Y/N head, ruffling her hair a bit purposely messing up her bunny ears. Y/N’s pout was not visible, as she ordered him to fix her hair and ears. “You’re lucky I have my hands occupied.” She mumbled to him, as Karl watched the two interact like actual siblings. “Oh! Here Karl.” She said, handing him is red drink, he looked at it closely before he noticed how shiny it looked. “Why is it so shiny?” He asked, confused. “I added some edible glitter into yours, special treat since you flew this way to see me.” She shrugged, as the two walked out. “Oh well thanks.” He mumbled, as they got into the car. “My feet hurt.” Y/N instantly whined, taking off her white heels. Karl looked over at her sympathetically, “How long were you walking around in those?” He asked, and Y/N took her mask off revealing her lower half of her face. 

Karl’s eyes immediately went to her lips, and he watched her bite her bottom lip in thought. Her lips looked so soft, that he wanted to just reach out and touch them, but he held himself back. “Well, it is now 3 pm, so maybe 11 hours?” She said, and Karl looked over at her completely shocked. “11 hours?!” He said, bewildered, and Y/N simply nodded. “When we get to the house, you are going to change into comfortable clothes and I am giving you a foot massage.” He ordered, and Y/N looked over at him trying to think of ways to ruin the moment. “Karl.. do you have a foot kink..?” She asked, trying to pretend to be concerned. Karl let out a snort, and a few giggles as he drove shaking his head “No I do not.” He said, and Y/N laughed breaking out of character, “Okay good, that would have been a deal breaker.” She said, and Karl just laughed, as they drove back in peace.

After a short 10 minute silence, Y/N looked over at Karl, who was sipping on his boba. “Has anyone ever told you that your lips perfect for kissing?” She asked out of the blue, making Karl nearly choke. Quickly putting his drink down, he looked over at Y/N as they were now at a red light. “Pardon?” He asked, and Y/N just shrugged, “Nothing nothing.” She said, looking out of her window, and Karl just gaped at her. Hearing a honk, Karl snapped out of his trance and quickly pressed on the gas, turning left. “How long will you be staying?” Y/N asked, and Karl’s brain went numb at the fact that she could act like nothing happened. “Maybe a couple days, weeks.” He said, shrugging and Y/N just nodded. “Did you get the tail?” Karl nodded, “Yeah I did, you can pin it onto your outfits.” He said, “It’s actually under your seat if you want to get it.” He told her, pointing to the floor board.

Y/N reached down and grabbed a bag, pulling it up she looked seeing a ball of fur. Smiling, she grabbed it and took it out, examining it, “It’s so cute.” She said, feeling it, and put it on her lap. “Thank you.” She said, and looked over at Karl, as he drove. “Of course.” He mumbled, and finally pulled into the driveway. Y/N grinned and was about to open her door, before Karl yelled a quick ‘stop!’ which caused her to freeze. Seeing Karl now in front of her door, he opened it, and grabbed her heels and quickly picked her up from the seat. Y/N squealed, wrapping her arms around Karl’s neck so she felt more secure. Shutting her door with his foot, he walked to the porch, and reached forward, opening the door with one of his hands, holding Y/N up by his knee. Walking inside, he asked Y/N to lead him to his room, and finally they made it.

Placing her on her bed, he grinned, “You said your feet ached, so I am letting you take a break from walking.” He said, and Y/N’s heart fluttered at that, “Thank you.” She said, looking away to hide the very obvious blush that was creeping up to her cheeks. “I will be right back, be changed when I get back.” He told her, before he walked out shutting her door behind him. Looking around for Niki, he finally found her in the kitchen, “Where’s the room I will be staying in?” He asked, and Niki led him to a room upstairs, the left of Y/N’s. Walking inside, he noticed it was a neat room, it was a light grey and had its own streaming set up. He figured the room had it, since Wilbur would stay over from time to time. Unpacking, he changed into a pair of sweats, and a Harry Potter sweater. Walking out and back to Y/N’s he knocked, “Come in!” He heard Y/N’s voice.

Walking inside, he was welcomed with the sight of Y/N’s now disheveled hair, bare face, and her in a pajama set. “You look comfortable.” He reasoned, and Y/N just smiled, patting the spot beside of her, “I have Winnie the pooh playing.” She said, and Karl sat beside of her, and pulled her feet onto his lap softly. Y/N relaxed into the pillows behind her, as Karl massaged her feet. “I figured we could have a Disney marathon tonight.” She said, and Karl looked over at her, and grinned. “I’d love that.” He said, before finishing up his massage. After the movie ended, the two were now cuddled close together, “Y/N..” Karl whispered, seeing if she was still awake. Y/N hummed, turning over to face Karl. Now they were face to face, their lips inches away from each other. “I wanted to tell you something.” He said, looking at her features up close.

Y/N nodded her head, motioning for him to continue, both of their hearts beating rather quickly. “I really enjoy talking to you, and I enjoy seeing you every time we FaceTime.” He started, and Y/N smiled, “I really like you, Y/N. I know you don’t like long distance, but I will wait for you if I have to.” He said, and Y/N looked at him, her breath caught in her throat. “I like you too. It’s just I am so scared, I know you wouldn’t cheat or anything, I am afraid the distance will destroy everything. Especially with cover going on, you never know when the next travel ban will be.” She explained, “But I am willing to see if it will work.” She mumbled. Karl smiled, before both of their phones simultaneously dinging. Grabbing their phones, their eyes widened before they both laughed. ‘REPORT UK IS NOW UNDER TRAVEL BAN UNTIL THE BEGINNING OF MAY.’ “Looks like you’re stuck with me bunny girl.” Karl said, looking at her, and Y/N laughed.

“What about Jimmy’s youtube?” Y/N asked worried, and Karl just shook his head, “It’s okay, I will be streaming still, and I can just join Jimmy from FaceTime. I can also join the gaming videos no matter what, I just won’t be in the real life videos.” He said, and Y/N frowned, “Are you sure you are okay with that?” She asked, and he nodded his head, “Things happen in mysterious ways Y/N. I mean look at us, we met through Niki forgetting to mute her mic.” He said, and Y/N laughed at the memory, “Yeah that is true.” She said, and looked away in thought. “I’m getting a call.” Karl said, and answered it putting it on speaker, motioning for Y/N to be quiet. “Hello?” Karl answered, and Sapnap’s voice came from Karl’s phone. “Hey! I just saw that the UK is in a travel ban, which means you are stuck there.” He said, and Karl hummed, “Yeah I am.” He said, and Sapnap chuckled as another voice spoke up.

“If you don’t end up getting with Y/N by the time the travel ban lifts, I will meet you at the airport, and openly punch you.” Dream spoke up, and Karl laughed, “I will allow you to do that.” He said, and Sapnap spoke up, “If you don’t date her, our wedding in minecraft is off and I will marry Quackity only.” He said, and Karl gasped, “Now that’s just too far.” Karl said, and Dream’s muffled laugh came through, “That’s just messed up.” Dream said, and Sapnap just scoffed, “Screw you guys.” He mumbled hanging up. Karl laughed and looked back at Y/N who was just smiling at him. “What?” He asked, seeing Y/N wanted to say something. “Nothing.” She said, teasingly, and Karl groaned, “Not this again, just tell me.”

“Maybe the universe wants this.” She said, motioning to each other, and Karl grinned nodding his head. “Let’s not make the universe mad, we already have a pandemic going on.” He said, and Y/N laughed nodding her head, “Agreed.” She whispered, looking at Karl’s lips. Karl bit his lip, his mind wondering back to how soft her lips look, finally wanting to know the truth. He grabbed her chin and brought her face closer, “Let’s see.” He whispered to himself, as their lips were now inches apart. “See what?” She asked, clueless, and Karl smirked, “How soft they really are.” 

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dreamsmp

[kitsu-katsu]

About revived (by Derivakat)

(Disclaimer: Nothing against Derivakat, I think her songs are amazing in general and she's very talented, I simply have a bone to pick with these lyrics and characterization)

So um, here's my counter to some of the lyrics because fuck it, I'm tired and fueled by spite, let's go:

Let's start with the chorus:

"White streak in my hair but no stress now" - Funnily incorrect, cc!Wilbur confirmed that the white hair is from stress itself, it's not about the revival process alone. Also just by reasoning, I cannot imagine what might have been stressful about spiralling and believing that the world is out to crush you, believing that you're the scum of the Earth as well, only to die, spend 13 and half years in dark isolation and then being jolted back up to life missing huge chunks of information, really cannot fathom how that might be stressful /s

"I've seen hell, but this is a bit more my style" - True you know? It's awesome that he's said that he's over the moon about being alive again after spending 13 and a half years of pure isolation in the dark, screming until his throat was hoarse. But coming from the tone of it, I'd like to point out that Wilbur's also still passively suicidal and self harms (check out the part under "He doesn't love TNT, he self-harms with it" in this post)

"A decade of time to make everything mine" (also counts for "This is my sunrise, this is my dawn, this is what I've waited for all along. All of this time, all this is mine. MINE. MINE. MINE!")- Honestly, based on what he's been doing, no prejudices, forget everything fandom's said: he doesn't really seem to want to "make everything his", does he? This perception mostly comes from him saying "This is my sunrise, this is mine!" in the original revival stream, however, if you forget about common fandom perception, what's so evilly framed about a guy who spent 13 and a half years of isolation in the dark saying "this is my sunrise!" after watching the sun coming up again for the first time since his death, in which he was extremely emotionally unstable? Like for real?

Now onto the verses:

"Am I the bad guy? I'll be the bad guy again" and "I've come back hell-bent" - Now, he has said that: “Here’s the thing, Tommy. I, I, I, I know I was bad, and I know I can redeem myself, but like, you know, there’s a little bit of fun in being bad, you know, we’ve spoken about this.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 11:31, 5th May), BUT, since then he's also expressed genuine remorse for his worse actions during Pogtopia (check out the parts under "He really regrets what happened in Pogtopia" and "Wilbur cares. A LOT" in this post), a wanting to redeem himself and truly become better and... uh... OH! He's also admitted that he's afraid he scares people and cried when Ranboo said that he was "an alright person". For real, just watch the Healthy Competition stream and read this reddit post by cc!Wilbur

The reddit post in question, just in case:

"You think I cared? It was always a means to an end" - So false. Just... so false. Ok, so quick one, let's review the actual lines said originally about him "not caring for L'manburg" in full:

“Uh, one thing, I didn’t actually really care about L'Manberg, I just cared about, you know, sticking it to the man. Actually, I cared about L'Manberg for the sole reason that I could use it to stick it to the man.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 24:18, 5th May)

“Look, I- Okay, I said it wrong. Look, I did care about- I did care about L'Manberg, but I cared about it for- You would call it the wrong reasons, but I, I- Just don’t think about it, don’t think about it too hard. Look, L'Manberg’s gone now, we’ve got that, you know- That, that wart on my side is gone, you know. I salute it, I salute it, you know, it was a great- It was a great place.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 25:18, 5th May)

“Look, Tommy, I’m gonna reiterate for you once more because I don’t think you quite understood, and that’s okay, you know, you don’t need to understand everything. I did care about L'Manberg. I did, I did. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, Tommy. L'Manberg would have been as loved by me had it been called Bimbum and was built in the middle of the desert.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 26:05, 5th May)

“The actual location, and the actual things it was, it were, were not important to me. It’s the thing it stood for. Which was freedom, liberty, and sticking it to the man, Tommy!” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 26:26, 5th May)

“We were a family, Tommy. We were…” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 27:26, 5th May)

So as you may see, he retracts himself immediately and explains his feelings with more nuance

Then, let's look at the more recent confession to Ranboo:

“I told Tommy that I didn’t actually care about L'Manberg, and that it was just like a tool for me to use to gain like, you know, power and stuff. But it’s not, it’s not true.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:36, 3rd Aug)

“L'Manberg is- was really important to me. And it is still to this day.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:47, 3rd Aug)

“I want it to, em, I want its history to live on not as a stain caused by me, you know. I basically just took a big shit on the history books, it feels like. I wanna, I wanna make it, I wanna make it feel like it was, you know, it was something that happened. You know, it was a great thing, you know, think of the good times. The- The years of safety. Well, not years, but you know.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:47, 3rd Aug)

If this got more explicit I'd be literally hitting you over the head with it. Anyway, check out the parts under "Wilbur cared. A LOT" and "He really cared and cares about L'Manburg, and didn't want its ideals twisted to hur others with" in this post

"So who cares? So what? I'm not calming down" and "Shut up! And listen" - “Tommy, shut up! I mean, Tommy, come over here. Tommy, come over here, come over here, man. It’s cool, it’s cool, it’s cool. Sorry, I, I-” (Alivebur)

– (Wilbur’s A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them: 26:08, 31st May)

That line's totality gets often cut down, erasing the immediate apology after the loss of cool. Furthermore, I'd argue that him "not calming down" in general is mainly due to his euphoria and overexcitement during certain scenes where it makes complete sense for him to be feeling like that, and in a broader sense, he has a tendency to say things in the heat of the moment and out of impulsivity that he turns to later regret from all the way back at Pogtopia. Him not calming down now is either out of impulsivity or outright euphoria to be out of limbo, not necessarily an evil thing. And when he percieves he should calm down, he tries his best to do it, or apologizes for snapping

“I’m sorry I wasn’t, you know, entirely on the same page. But, man, I promise you, I’ve calmed down, you know, I’m all, I’m all settled in. I understand, you know, what’s changed, what hasn’t, who’s new, who’s old, you know, who’s still about, you know, who… Who, uh… uh… Who trusts me and stuff.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 15:04, 3rd Aug)

“I relived that explosion in my head so many times man. And, and, and I- I get that you don’t, you don’t trust me, I do, but like, man, look at me, bro, I’m not gonna do it again. I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna hurt you again.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 21:21, 3rd Aug)

(Check out the parts under "Wilbur cares. A LOT", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character", "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character", "He hesitated regarding the button tons of times" and "He feels inhuman. He knows that people see him as a freak, evil or crazy and that makes him feel dehumanized" in this post)

"There's nothing wrong with me" - BUDDY. Wilbur drowns in self-hatred, what are you talking about? The man got caught off guard and cried when someone said "you're an alright person"... He's worried that he scares people, he knows how others see him on top of his own self-hatred

“TommyInnit, as you know, is just, he thinks I’m insane. I’m not insane, chat, I’m not insane.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 4:30, 16th Oct)

“See, I’m not so crazy, Tommy. I know what I’m doing.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 16:40, 16th Oct)

“I’ve told you, I’m not crazy, Tommy. I know what I’m doing, and this is genuinely the best thing we could do right now.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 17:18, 16th Oct)

“I’m not crazy! How am I crazy?!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 43:18, 17th Oct)

“Everyone I seem to meet has this deep intrisnic feeling of disgust towards me. Jack Manifold seemed to be quite nice to me, but I reckon he, I could feel it, you know, in his stare. But like, you don’t have that. I can tell you’re a good guy.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 30:24, 5th May)

“Quackity, I’ve, I’ve, I’ve, I’ll be honest you with you, I’ve lost everything, man. I, um. I’ve lost decades of my life. I’ve lost my- most of the people who cared about me. Some people don’t even know I’m back yet, and I, and I think that’s probably for the best. So I feel like that does humble a man. That really humbles a man, you know?” – (Wilbur’s A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them: 1:00:52, 31st May)

“Listen, Phil, I met, I met Quackity. After you very kindly lent me your house. I went and met him. Yeah! I met up with him, and I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was, I’m gonna say it, it was nice. It was a nice time. I- I- It felt good, it felt, uh, you know, he didn’t, he didn’t seem afraid of me, which is cool.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 7:38, 25th July)

“Not many people do. I mean, Phil, you don’t seem afraid of me, you’re not afraid of me, are you, Phil?” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 8:03, 25th July)

“Good, good. 'Cause I’m not afraid of you.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 8:10, 25th July)

“Why? Why? … No, no, no, no, no, not the, not the bit about the, not the bit about the right foot, the why don’t you think I’m a bad person?” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 35:13, 25th July)

“Can I be real with you, man? I think I scare people.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:30, 25th July)

“I mean, like I, I, I, I don’t think I, I- I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do, and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:46, 25th July)

“Dream is- He’s had his comeuppance, and I have not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for this people. They’re just waiting, they’re waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on, and, Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo. I’m different.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:07, 25th July)

“I’m living in eternal limbo, again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:36, 25th July)

(Check out the parts under "He feels inhuman. He knows that people see him as a freak, evil or crazy and that makes him feel dehumanized", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character" and "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character" in this post)

"Oh yes, I blew up the nation!" (said with glee) - I make a point of the tone in this specific line, because I could make a point of the tone in the whole song, but this line is a good example. He didn't blow up L'manburg just with glee like "hell yeah! I did it!". Of course he talks about it with pride sometimes, but it's usually either said in the middle of the same impulsive moments in which he'd claim he doesn't care, said with relief of him having control over at least that situation (like him sighing right after doing it just to ask Phil to finish it off by killing him), or said with the same deflection with which he'd claim that not having a grave didn't affect him and was badass actually since he only wanted it for the hateful obituaries anyway (which was a lie, and he admitted it on the third of august stream when saying "I was so pressed about not having a grave" in case you had doubts)

Finally, I want to make emphasis on the fact that: The explosion on the 16th had two main drives behind it and they often get glossed over. The first objectivee was blowing it up and causing just enough destruction to get L'manburg back (You know, when Wilbur still had some kind of hope). After his spiral went further and his paranoia and self-loathing worsened, his two drives become apparent: First was blowing it up to rid the world of the twisted thing L'manburg became, ridding the world of what the twisted version of his ideals became with Schlatt in control of them. Secondly, he wanted to end L'manburg as a part of himself and rid the world of himself completely (by this I'm referencing his suicide), he decided he wanted to die and expected that as a result since a lot of time before the 16th. The explosion was effectively a bigger projection of his suicide, rid the world of both himself and his creation, mixed with his constant desire to protect, it also becomes "rid the world of the corrupted version of L'manburg that became Manburg", because for all intents and purposes, since the important thing about L'manburg was its founding ideals, L'manburg had been dead for a long time at that point.

“Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to blow everything up and finally end it, you know. I had the perfect opportunity to finally blow up everything and end it and just completely save everyone, right, from the tyranny of Schlatt and the tyranny of the existence of Manberg and L’Manberg, right.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 25:17, 17th Oct)

“Explain it to me! Give me a reason! Give me a reason!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:50, 17th Oct)

“Who else is it gonna hurt?! It’s gonna hurt Schlatt, Manberg, and-” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:55, 17th Oct)

“Why did I bring- I should have just done it. I’m such a fucking showman. I should have just done it.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:18, 17th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I just- I just want to f… I just wanna end it, I wanna end it. I wanna press that button, man.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:08, 17th Oct)

(Check out the parts under "Wilbur cares. A LOT", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character", "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character", "He hesitated regarding the button tons of times", "He really cared and cares about L'Manburg, and didn't want its ideals twisted to hur others with", and "He really regrets what happened in Pogtopia" in this post)

#tw self harm mention #tw suicide mention #wilbur #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #wilbur dsmp #revived #revivedbur #alivebur #revived wilbur #derivakat revived #fandom critical #dsmp #dream smp #analysis #c!wilbur analysis