#i mean it's not like he's performed bad at all so far this season. maybe he's just rightfully upset his lead is in big jeopardy this weeken

[blairdii]

god if i ever have to witness lando norris, who's been in mclaren for 6/7 years, has turned down fucking ferrari and red bull for this team, stood on business and made sure mclaren secured that wcc last season when it went down to the very bone, become 2nd driver, donate my body to science expeditiously.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIX

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @xxloveralways14 @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @makethemhoesmad @authentic-girl03

warnings infidelity, some sexual content

kalena speakss 🪽! this is easily my favorite chapter so far (for reasons that will become obvious towards the end) don’t expect another back to back update bc it’s not happening 😭 maybe thursday or friday at the earliest, i still have priorities!

June 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California 

“Paige, your shot wasn’t falling tonight like we are used to seeing from you. What was different tonight for you than either nights?”

It’s this that I’m not quite yet used to. The post lost pressers. It was different in college, where the team had way more wins for every one loss, but right now we’re at .500 and each time a loss follows a win and they ask me the same variation of the same question I get irritated.

But I’m media trained, which means I just answer the question no matter how dumb I feel it is. The real answer is that I played like shit tonight, forcing shots and getting into my head. Instead, I’m forced to say:

“We’re playing a team that has the reigning defensive player of the year and was just in the finals. It was gonna be a dog fight, for us to get settled against a defense like that, and they simply out performed us.” I look down at the stat sheet in front of me, I had 5 turnovers to my 4 assists, and I fucking hate turning the ball over. 

“Kayla McBride is a dog, she guarded me well tonight, forced me into some bad shots and got a few turnovers from me. But I gotta take all that and learn from it, it’s still too early in the season to stress out over things that are fixable.”

I'm the only one sitting at the podium tonight, Rickea and Dearica doing theirs together and Zia who had just gone before me. I knew what the gist of the questions would be, turnovers, defense, and the most gruesome: injuries.

“We saw you roll your ankle pretty bad tonight. Even though you finished the game, can you tell us a bit about the seriousness of it?” It’s a different reporter now, one that I recognize from our win the other night.

I shake my head. My ankle was fine up until he just mentioned it. Now, it stung bad. I had some extra tape around it, it was only sore, while I was sitting but walking and running full speed on the court made that shit hurt like no other. 

“It’s not serious.” I reply honestly. “We got two days off before the next game at home so I’m not worried. I’m gonna treat it like any other tweak and just follow what the trainers got for me, and hopefully we have a better night against Minnesota on Friday.”

It seems like that is a sufficient answer for the rest of the reporters in the room when I hear that wonderful “no more questions.” I stand up gingerly from my seat. They don’t miss my slight limp, but after a few steps the pain shakes off and it just feels uncomfortable. 

When I get back to the locker room it’s damn near empty except for Cameron and Rae. I give them both curt nods before heading over to my locker.

They don’t speak to me, which I’m silently grateful for because I might snap at them unintentionally. Losing is one thing, playing like dog shit is another, but my ankle really put the nail in the coffin.

I attempt to clean up my locker a bit, making life a little bit easier for the ladies who’re gonna come in and clean up when we leave. I throw my jersey and shorts in the growing pile of towels and warm ups and all other gear before reaching for my phone in the bag. 

just saw the injury on tv, pray it’s not too bad ❤️‍🩹

That’s the second most recent text in my phone, from about an hour ago from Maraye. It just briefly brings a smile to my face that I can’t even fight. It’s crazy to me that even when I’m at my grumpiest she finds a way to make me forget about it all.

I scroll through the rest of my notifications before tapping on her contact. I see that she texted me multiple times tonight throughout different parts of the game.

don’t fuck up my parlay tonight. jk good luck fav! 7:09pm

OKAY BLOCKKK GET UP THEN 7:20pm

omg the cross over??? don’t do her like that p 😮‍💨  8:03pm

I laugh fights through my lips, she told me in Atlanta she would start live texting me during games, I didn’t think she was serious. Nevertheless, I find it adorable. Maraye, throughout the busyness that is her schedule, turned on my game and watched the whole thing, keeping me posted on all her thoughts throughout the night.

I’m so beyond saving.

My thumb scrolls back down to the bottom of the thread. I can’t deny the way my heartbeat quickens in my chest at the choice of heart emoji. It’s not quite a red heart, but it’s enough to let me know she cares. I can’t believe that I’m sitting here like I’m in high school again, psycho analyzing her texts and gushing over them until my face is red.

“You headin’ out?” I look up and Cam is getting ready to leave. She’s going to be fully cleared to play this week, probably not playing with us until right before All-star. I’m excited for her, and I can tell that she is too because it’s practically beaming off of her.

I nod. “Yeah, inna minute. I’ll catch you in the morning.” Cameron takes that answer and walks out alongside Rae. I grab my back shortly after them, getting up and leaving the locker room. The arena is quiet, so is the parking garage as I make my way out there. The chirp of my car alerts me to it. I drop my bag in the trunk before sitting down in my seat.

The cushion practically eats me alive, I haven’t been this physically exhausted in months. 

Then I’m reminded that Maraye and I’d thread is still open on my phone. When I glance at the time I realize it’s not that late, I know that if I go home, I’ll just fall into the rabbit hole of watching film all night.

Instead I reach for the phone heavy in my sweatpants pocket. My thumbs begin typing away before sending Maraye a text back.

Nah it’s not all that bad 

You busy? Or can I slide?

I make sure my phone is connected to the speakers. When He’s Not There by Kehlani plays through the car while I get settled. Following that, I place my phone on its spot on the center console. It isn’t until Maraye’s name flashes on my carplay screen that I finally pull out of the parking garage.

yes please, come see meee

—

Paige sits comfortably to my left on my couch. Her leg propped on my coffee table with a bag of ice resting on her swollen ankle. 

It’s her first time at my apartment, but even then she navigates the place like she’s been here countless of times. It feels so similar to our friendship, just comfortable. 

Her arm is draped over my shoulder as I nestle into her side. When she first came over, I sat on the other side of the couch, so far away from her you would think we were fighting. And then she started talking, pulling me closer with her words until I sat right next to her. My body is leaning into her warmth.

An NBA finals game plays on the TV. Knicks versus the Thunder, it’s in the last few minutes of overtime, a high intensity game that Paige swore she couldn’t miss a second of.

“He’s so fine.” I chirp jokingly, Shai Gilgeous Alexander is on the screen, about to shoot game tying free throws.

Paige pulls her arm off of me, looking down at me incredulously before reaching for my remote. She lowers the volume on the TV, reducing Mike Breen’s commentating to a whisper.

“Who, Shai?”

“Yeah. You don’t think so?” I ask, looking up at her with a grin.

“I’m like a raging homosexual, but if you like it I love it?”

I laugh at that, pushing her hair away from my view. It cascades down her shoulders in soft bright strands that tickle my face. 

“You can never just laugh at my jokes.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny.” Paige says. The face she makes reacts to her own statement like it’s obvious, when we both know I could make her laugh until she cried if I wanted to. “And Shai isn’t your type.”

I move from my spot next to her, jumping up and turning my attention to her face, while hers are stuck to the game. The way she is seated briefly makes me forget my train of thought. Her legs are spread comfortably and she leans back on the couch with her arms against the back of the couch. She looks like a fuckboy, and in any other scenario I would make fun of her for it, but the TV glow shines on her face just right and her cologne in my nose nearly makes me go blind.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s my type then, Paige?”

A commercial cuts on and Paige finally draws her eyes away from the screen. “What, Julian’s lightskin ass wasn’t the giveaway?” She laughs at her own joke, it’s stupid, but I love that laugh. So uniquely her. “Or y’want me to say you like six foot blonde girls.”

I roll my eyes, and when my vision clears up again, Paige is grinning at me.

“C’mon it was funny!”

“I don’t like women, idiot.”

“You like me.”

“I do not. I don’t even know why I let you hang out around me.” My body turns and my back hits the couch with a soft thud. Just to annoy her I sit further away from her body.

“Yeah okay, ma. You keep tellin’ yourself that.” Paige’s voice is low, a deep and raspy tone that I have never heard from her before. With Julian that had always been a given— he’s a man with a deep voice, that’s obvious. But when I hear it from Paige, I don’t know. It’s different.

My body just barely reacts to the pet name, but it’s there. The glob of saliva that pushes down my dry throat. And my legs just slightly press together. Paige reaches for the pocket of my striped shorts, tugging me back to my original spot in the curve of her body. 

“You’ve really never done anything with a girl before?”

“Paige—”

“No, not to be annoying. I’m just wondering.” She shrugs. Her hand reaches over to flick the bag of ice off her ankle and brings her leg down to my carpet. She looks down at me slowly, a lick of her lips and scan of my face lets me know she’s listening, waiting for my response.

I return her gaze. “Yes, I’ve really never done anything with a girl before.”

“Why? We’re much better. Better than whatever Julian is doing for you, I can tell you that much.” Paige’s voice is smug, teasing almost. I don’t know if she’s trying to rile me up between my legs or in my heart so I defend Julian. Either way it’s working, my heartbeat quickening in my chest.

“You seem sure about that.”

She nods. “I am. I think you forget how often you complain to me about that guy.” She says with a laugh.

The game in front of us is dying down, a three point lead for the Knicks with 40 seconds left in overtime, Oklahoma just now calling a timeout. I know she’s into the game, way more than me, but still she looks at me with an intensity that makes it feel like we’re the only two things in the world.

“Doesn’t mean a girl could do it better.”

Her eyes darted from my eyes to my lips, I’m expecting them to move. To look back at my eyes or even at the TV but she doesn’t. Just me.

“Y’believe that?” Paige asks me.

“Uh huh.” 

I’m going to lose. Whatever is going on with Paige and I, what has been going on for the last few weeks. The banter, the tension, the constant touching, it’s all a fight. Her and I are going back and forth like a fucking tennis match and she’s about to win. She’s about to make me lose whatever is left of my composure and grab the collar of her Hopkins High School t-shirt and kiss her until there’s no more breath in my lungs.

“Yeah? Ion know, can’t knock it till you try it.” She says, leaning into me for all of 5 milliseconds before sitting back in her seat and looking at the screen. The volume raises on my TV the cheers and commentary bouncing off the walls of my home.

Paige has left me frozen. Stuck there, in the exact position that she left me in. My eyes staring into the side of her perfect skin, burning holes there if I had the capability. I need her. My thighs are damn near glued together to keep me from dripping down my couch. 

I adjust my position some, sitting uncomfortably on my heels but with the way Paige is manspreading, it gives me just enough to be an inch taller than her. She looks at me, eyes trailing from my thighs past my covered stomach and chest, suddenly I’m hyper aware of how close my tits are from falling out of my Skims top.

“There some’ you wanna tell me, angel?” She asks. I hate the way that nickname makes me feel. She’s the only one that calls me that, the only one who makes me feel so small with just a single word. “Or you jus’ gonna keep lookin’ at me?”

The words just barely die in the air before I’m leaning into her, pressing my lips to hers. 

It starts off soft, so soft. Her body hesitates, like she knows better than to kiss me back but she does so anyway, tilting her head further and deepening the kiss. Paige hums against me, her arms still pressed against the back of the couch as if she has to avoid touching me. As if the second her hands touch my body then it’s game over. 

She bites my bottom lip, making me moan against her. I further into the kiss, cupping her cheek and then it really is game over. Paige reaches for my hips, lifting my body onto her lap and settling my thighs on the outside of hers.

Her tongue is entering my mouth, warm and tasting like candy. They’re clashing, messy and sticky and so damn hot. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of her I’m not sure I want to give it up. 

Paige roams my body with fervor. Trailing just a bit further to grab at my ass, kneading it in her large and veiny hands. I pull back from her breathlessly. Her hair is messy, lips so swollen and pink. It leaves me soaked as a response.

“This is doin’ so much damage. Y’know that?” She asks. Her hand travel back up my body to the back of my neck. I know it’s wrong, but still I let her pull me back into her. 

“Mmm, Ion wanna— stop.” I speak against her lips, letting her kiss me as she pleases. Grope me as she pleases. Talk to me as nasty as she wants to. I miss it, the feeling of being so vulgar with another person. Paige is on a different level and I want so much more. More of her, more than anyone has ever given me but for whatever reason I know that she can.

My phone starts ringing. I try to pull back to answer it but she pulls me right back, navigating my mouth with her tongue.

“Don’t.” She mumbles.

“I gotta.” I tell her pulling back with such force that I’m almost falling off the couch. I need to. Because if I don’t stop, I’m gonna let her see me in my most vulnerable state and even I know how wrong that would be. 

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, swiping to answer the call before I can even see who it is.

“Hello?” My voice is wheezy, and I’m huffing and puffing into the speaker.

“Hey, baby. You home?” 

It’s Julian. Of course it is. Of course God would let this man call me in the middle of making out with Paige just to make me feel guilty. Like the asshole I so obviously am right now.

“N— yeah. Yeah, but I’m busy. Sorry.” I stutter. “Paige is over right now.” I tell him honestly. But still, my breath hitches at my mention of her name. She rubs my thighs while I speak, looking at me like I’m a piece of meat. 

Her hand travels to her mouth, holding up one finger to her lips with a snide glare. I reach to slap her hand away, barely listening to what Julian says to me on the other line. 

Blah blah blah I miss you blah blah blah needa start hanging out with me blah blah less Paige. It’s gibberish. And I don't care.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight Ju.” I tell him, bothered by his continued talking and wanting to occupy myself with something else. Namely, the pink lips in front of me that look so fucking pretty and the gorgeous face just inches away from mine.

I toss my phone on the couch after Julian responds and hangs up.

“You fuckin’ like me.”

“And don’t.” Just when I’m about to hop off of her lap, the TV blares loudly.

“Bang! Bang! Shai Gilgeous-Alexander takes us into double overtime!” Mike Breen’s cheers echo into my ears. Paige looks past me, obviously upset that she missed the shot.

“Damn. He’s good and fine?”

“Dont get fucked up, Raye.”

[dilly-dahlia]

DROP ANOTHER DANTE ONESHOT AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRRRSSSSSSSSSS HES SO PATHETIC I LOVE HIM

Boy in Love

pairing: Dante x Reader

content: MyStreet season 1, theatre teacher!reader, angst with a happy ending??, reader and Dante met on Tinder, use of y/n, Dante is kind of a red flag tbh...

summary: All your life you'd wanted true love, even more so after you had played countless roles in which your character fell in love with another. And when you finally meet a man and think all is well, you find out he doesn't like musicals.

now playing: "Boy in Love" by Elliot James Reay

word count: 5.5k (hello??? i did not realize it was that long)

a/n: ask and you shall receive ofc I will drop another Dante one shot I love that pathetic lovesick fool with everything I have

masterlist

You glanced down at your phone screen again. 7:23, it read.

Dante was almost an hour late. Although, you really shouldn’t have expected much from a guy you met on Tinder, the app you downloaded in a last ditch effort to find a boyfriend. God, you really were desperate.

You had talked to Dante before going on the first date. In fact, this was your third. It was nicer than the two before, as he had planned a reservation at a fancy restaurant for it. But if he went through the trouble of making the reservation and then didn’t show up, was he really serious about this?

Your wine glass had already been emptied and you’d already drank nearly three cups of sweet tea. You still hadn’t ordered a proper meal yet, but you were using the complimentary rolls to hold you over until Dante showed up.

You glanced down at your phone again when it buzzed.

Dante: I am so sorry, I got caught in really bad traffic. I’ll be there in five minutes

You huff out a sigh at the text, rolling your eyes as you picked up your phone and opened the message.

You: It’s okay. I’ll just get another basket of rolls

You turned off your phone and tucked it away. You didn’t want to look at it anymore. You let out another sigh and leaned against the table, your arms crossed.

By the time Dante had waltzed into the restaurant, you had looked through the menu twice and noticed yours was void of prices. Dante stood in the foyer, looking around for you before pointing and saying something to the host. He started towards you and sat in the chair across from yours, his hair tousled from the wind outside.

“I’m so sorry,” he told you again. He’d probably recite his text to you. “I got stuck in terrible traffic. There was a crash on-“

You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you said. “I don’t mind. Stuff happens.”

You gave him a soft smile, which he returned with a small boyish one of his own. It wasn’t long before the waiter approached your table and took your proper orders.

“Do you like the place?” Dante asked as you handed your menu to the waiter. “So far, I mean. I know you haven’t tried it yet.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I like it. The atmosphere is really nice.”

And by that you meant it made you feel extraordinarily poor. Nearly everything was draped in red velvet and the flutes for champagne and wine glasses were made of crystal. There was low lighting, and looking at the other customers alone made your wallet cry. Your teacher salary could only dream of eating at a place like this.

“It’s nice,” you repeated, not knowing what else to say.

Dante smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

You felt out of place in your cheap Amazon sundress, but seeing Dante sit across from you so boyishly (even if he was wearing slacks and a white button up and cuff links) made your nerves ease. You fidgeted with the gold bangle around your wrist, twisting it around as you rolled a thought over in your head.

“I’m, uh,” you began, brushing your hair out of your face. “My students’ musical performances start next week. They’re performing She Loves Me. Maybe you could come to one of the shows? I could let you in for free.”

Dante had lifted the wineglass to his lips, and at your proposal he lowered it. His eyebrows slightly furrowed as he answered. “Oh, uhm, I don’t really do musicals,” he admitted. “Or . . . plays, for that matter.”

“Oh.” Your eyes slightly widened. How did you manage to pick someone that wouldn’t even consider supporting your job? “Oh, that’s alright. I just . . . I thought I’d extend an invitation if you wanted to come.”

You smiled nervously, lifting your own wine glass to your lips in an attempt to hide the flush on your face.

“I appreciate the offer.”

You thanked Irene that the food arrived at that exact moment. It gave you the chance to distract yourself and try to recover from how awkward this date had been so far. The last two weren’t so tense, so why was this one?

“So you’re a theater teacher?” Dante asked, rubbing his jaw.

You nodded, twirling the pasta noodles around your fork. He didn’t know that? You could’ve sworn you told him. Even if you didn’t, you had put it in your Tinder bio. “For high school, yes. I teach at Phoenix Drop High.”

Dante hummed in response and said, “I went to school there,” but didn’t offer anything else . You felt awkward just letting the tension in the air thicken, so you cleared your throat and kept talking.

“It was one of the only things I ever wanted to be. I was a theater kid in school, so it always interested me.”

“Were you a weird one?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” you replied, thinking back. You never really did anything embarrassing. “No, not really. I just really liked it.”

Dante didn’t say anything else and neither did you. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the two of you as your forks clanked against your dishes.

The rest of the date consisted of the odd statement and curt response every couple minutes. The two of you couldn’t seem to fall into any sort of conversation, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when the waiter gave you a pitying look as he refilled your wine glasses. Dante requested the check, and it was a moment more before the waiter placed a small black book on Dante’s side of the table. You reached for it, but Dante pulled it away from your grasp before you could.

“I can pay for half,” you said, meeting his gaze.

He shook his head, pulling his wallet from his pocket and pulled out his card. “I can pay. I arrived late, so it’s the least I can do. Besides, this restaurant doesn’t let the woman pay if she’s on a date.”

He smiled at you, which you returned. So that’s why your menu didn’t have prices. Maybe he was serious about this. You couldn’t fathom another reason he would bring you here.

You followed Dante out once he had paid, shrugging on your coat before stepping outside.

“Could I give you a ride home?” he asked. He had fallen into step with you.

“I would love if you did, but my car is here,” you softly said. “And I have to be at work early tomorrow, so I can’t leave it.”

“I’ll walk you to your car, then.”

You smiled, glancing down at your feet. “Okay.”

So he followed you to your car, making sure to stay close to you. You started your car once you reached it, and stood with Dante until he bid you farewell.

“Can I take you out again tomorrow?” he asked. He gave you another of his shy, boyish smiles and leaned against your car. “Not somewhere as nice as this, just . . . Out. Wherever you want.”

You softly exhaled, thinking about your schedule. You were almost completely booked for the next two and a half weeks.

“I can’t,” you said. You exhaled, shifting your weight so you faced him more head on. “It’s tech week and we have to finish the set. I’m at the high school until eight tomorrow. The only reason I could go on this date is because it’s Wednesday.”

You forced yourself to chuckle, something to try and lighten the tense air that was still between the two of you. It didn’t work though, and your strained laughter dried out. Dante rapped his fingers against the roof of your car.

“I’ll text you, then? And we can plan another date?” You nodded. Dante grabbed your hand, his own warm compared to your cold one, and pressed his lips against your knuckles. You smiled, gently squeezing his hand. “I’ll see you?”

You laughed. “Yes, Dante. You will.”

He gave you another boyish smile—you were really staring to love that smile—and leaned forward to brush a kiss to your cheek. He let go of your hand to open your car door for you and blew you a kiss once you had started driving away.

The car ride back to your apartment was quiet. You didn’t listen to music and chose to wallow in your own thoughts.

Dante didn’t like musicals. Or plays. It wouldn’t have been a problem, and if anyone else had told you that you would’ve shrugged it off, but musicals and plays were quite literally your life. You been interested in it since you were little, and even if you became a theatre teacher instead of a big shot actress, you still poured your heart and soul into the program at Phoenix Drop High. Your job meant something to you—your students meant something to you.

Could you really be with someone that didn’t like that?

—

“Heads!”

The chorus of voices rang out as the cyc was slowly lowered. You watched as it was, making sure there wasn’t a stray student beneath it before it was secured against the ground.

You were clicking the tip of your pen, inspecting the set from your seat in the audience. Something was off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“Levin!” you called. It was a moment before the blond’s head popped out from behind one of the fake buildings on stage. You motioned him over. “And Malachi,” you added.

It wasn’t long before the pair of brother’s stood before you. You pointed behind them at the outside set. “What’s missing?”

Malachi and Levin were your stage hands. They were the ones to ask questions to when you weren’t available and they consulted on nearly every choice for the show.

Not to mention they had an eye for design.

“That one’s too dark,” Malachi said, pointing to the building that sat downstage right. You hummed, considering his words.

He was right. The navy blue walls paired with the chocolate brown trim clashed with the rest of the brightly painted set. It stood out too much. The main focus in the outside set was meant to be the parfumerie.

“Maybe a lighter blue would work?” Levin suggested, turning back to you.

“Maraczek’s is already light blue,” you mused, tapping the tip of the pen to your lips. “See if we have any more of that pastel yellow and swatch it.”

The boys nodded before bounding back onto the stage, disappearing behind the cyc and fake buildings. You were just about to turn back to the script in your hand to make a few final edits when you heard your name.

“Miss L/n!” You lifted your gaze. Leona, a little freshman that often hid her werewolf ears and tail, ran across the stage. “Miss L/n, there’s someone by the red door looking for you.”

Your brows furrowed. You exhaled, setting the open script in your lap down on the music stand in front of you before standing up. You had to use one of the side entrances to get backstage, since the small sets of stairs that were typically at the stage’s edge had been moved. Leona met you in the wing and followed behind you to the door. You pushed it open, confused at the sight of a Domino’s delivery man.

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door. The sun was just beginning to set and a crisp chill had entered the air.

“For”—the delivery man looked down at the box in his hand—“Y/n?”

You nodded. “That’s me.”

He handed you the box, which you carefully took. You opened your mouth to further question him, but he only said, “It’s already been paid for so don’t worry ‘bout that,” before walking away.

You stood in the open door, baffled. You watched as the delivery man started his car and drove out of the student parking lot, more confused than you had ever been.

“What was that?” Leona chirped, standing on her tiptoes to look over your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you replied. You finally stepped back into the auditorium, the red door closing loudly behind you. You looked down at the box and opened it. “Oh.”

There was a note stuck to the inside of the lid. Chicken scratch spelled out a short note that made the corners of your lips pull up.

I thought I’d buy you dinner, since I can’t take you out. I don’t know how much you like alfredo, but you always get that on our dates.

It was from Dante, though you doubted he was the one that physically wrote it out. Truthfully, it was probably the most thoughtful thing anyone had done for you in your adult life.

“What is it?” Leona repeated, looking around you to glance at the note. You shook your head and closed the box. Leona was the nosiest girl you knew and you wouldn’t be able to stand if she figured out you were trying to date.

“Just from a friend,” you said, offering her a smile. “They wanted to get me dinner since we can’t hang out tonight.”

Leona hummed, but the way she glanced at you signaled she didn’t believe you. You walked off, glancing down at your watch and noticing the time.

“Alright, dinner!” you called out. “Stuff for sandwiches and leftovers are in the fridge. We’ll continue with set at seven, but I want to give everyone refining notes while they eat.”

You heard a couple yes ma’am’s as you made your way back to the seating area of the auditorium. You picked up your pen and phone from where you had sat and retreated to your office for a moment, opening your contacts and searing for one in particular.

“Hello?”

You smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” you said, sitting at your desk and opening the little container in the box. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You could imagine the grin that spread across his face—the same boyish one you were falling for despite yourself. “I thought it’d be nice to do.”

“It is. I’m surprised you noticed what I like.”

Dante chuckled. “What can I say? I’m not a ladies man for no reason.”

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t see it, but another laugh slipped from his lips, almost in response to your teasing antics. “Okay, player. Just because you happened to notice something doesn’t make you a ladies man.”

“I like to think I’ve still got it.”

You rolled your eyes again, opening the plastic bag with the plastic fork and napkin before beginning to eat. “Whatever makes you feel better, I suppose. How was your day?”

“Better now that you’ve called me.”

“Is that why you sent me food?”

“Well . . .” You scoffed and he laughed, and for a moment you forgot that he didn’t like what you like. For a moment you could imagine going home to him after a long day of work. “That may have been a risky factor.”

“So you were betting that I would call and make your day better?”

“So many questions.” You laughed this time, the sound ringing like a bell in Dante’s ears. For a moment it made him consider liking what you like, just to hear it again.

Your laughter died down, and a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you. A smile was on your face, one you didn’t even realize was there, as you ate.

Then the moment of fantasy was gone, and you remembered that he didn’t like what you liked, and your smile faded.

“I have to go in a few minutes,” you softly said, looking up through your office window. Most everyone had sat down, laughing with each other as they scarfed down their food. You noticed Leona, looking at you through the window, though she quickly turned her attention back to Yip and Alexis when you caught her eyes.

“Right,” Dante mused. “Say, are you free Saturday?”

“Rehearsal from nine to five,” you replied, glancing over at the calendar you had taped to the wall behind your computer.

“Next week? At all?”

“No . . .” you mumbled. Dante softly cursed, though you couldn’t make out the exact word he used. “We’re practicing with the orchestra, then.”

“Right.”

Just like that the awkward silence similar to the one a few nights ago at the restaurant was back. You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking.

“You could come watch?” you suggested. “Sometime next week before opening night. Rehearsals are four to-“

“I’m busy,” Dante admitted, though it sounded like he didn’t want to.

“Oh.” Was he really busy? Or was his distaste for musicals that strong? “That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Hey, uhm.” You glanced at the time. “Can we talk sometime tomorrow? I’m free from basically eleven-thirty to one o’ five.”

You heard Dante exhale. “Yeah. I’ll be waiting.”

You hummed. “Okay. I have to go now.”

Dante bid you goodbye and promptly hung up. You say in shock for a moment at the abruptness before letting out a heavy breath.

You weren’t sure this was going to work.

—

“Fuck, I messed up,” Dante groaned, covering his face with his hands and running his fingers through his dyed hair. Two weeks had passed, and Dante felt like he had been endlessly battling with himself about whether or not to reach out to you again.

On Friday—sometime between eleven-thirty and one o’ five, just as you’d said—Dante’s phone rang with the chimes he’d assigned specifically to your contact. He’d drummed his fingers against his desk for what seemed like hours before answering.

The news he received was . . . Not great.

You’d told him your predicament—not knowing if you’d be able to be with him knowing he doesn’t like musicals and plays, which you love. It wasn’t just that, though, you’d said, it was that Dante wasn’t willing to put his dislike for it aside and attend a musical just to support you.

It wasn’t technically a breakup, since the two of you had never really officiated the whole boyfriend girlfriend thing, but damn did it feel like one.

At least, Dante imagined this is what a breakup felt like. Was this how every girl he dumped reacted? Maybe he should apologize to the ones he could . . .

“Will you quit moping?” Laurance complained from his place at the kitchen island. He sat in one of the stools, pouring over a check book or inventory log or something. “I can’t focus with all your complaining.”

Dante nearly pulled his hair out. He dropped his hands from his head and turned it to face Laurance. “If you had been dumped you’d know how I feel.”

Dante couldn’t see Laurance’s face, but he could feel the exaggerated eye roll.

“You were not even dating her.”

“I was planning on it!” Dante shouted. He groaned again, running his hands over his face once more before falling sideways onto the couch. The springs squeaked under the strain of his weight.

“Well why didn’t you?”

“I was waiting until the right time. I had planned to ask her when we went to your damn restaurant, and then I found out she’s . . .” Dante hesitated, tripping over his words. “She’s a theatre kid.”

Whatever scribbling Laurance had been doing ceased immediately. Dante didn’t hear the scratch of graphite on paper anymore, and when he looked up he was met with Laurance’s harsh glare.

“Be so serious,” Laurance said. “You didn’t ask her to be your girlfriend because she’s a theatre kid?” He blinked. “That’s so childish.”

Dante flushed. “Well- Okay, it’s not just that-“

“Then what is it?” Laurance set his ballpoint pen down and turned the stool to lean back against the counter, crossing his arms. It made Dante feel like he was being judged.

Which, in all reality, he was. He knew Laurance was refraining from saying a few choice words.

“She’s a teacher. And she teaches at Phoenix Drop High. I don’t-“ Laurance raised an eyebrow in question when Dante stumbled over his words. What was he even trying to say. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t get it. Know why? Because learning a girl’s interests isn’t something that typically deters me. Laurance rolled his eyes. He slipped out of the island chair and walked across the room to the couch. Laurance grabbed Dante’s hand and forced him to sit up, settling in beside him. “Dante, I’ve never seen you more genuinely interested in a girl and the fact that you’re off put by her interest in theatre is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well what do you propose I do, Mister I-Can-Get-Any-Girl-I-Want? You know I can’t stand musicals.”

Laurance deadpanned. “You like her?”

“Obviously.”

“Then give it a chance. Or pretend. I don’t think she’d mind that you hate musicals so long as you make an effort to support her.” Laurance watched for Dante’s reaction, shrugging when his friend showed no sign of verbal acknowledgment. “Or don’t listen to me. What do I know?”

Laurance stood from the couch. He returned to the island and grabbed the three-ring binder before going off to his room, leaving Dante to wallow in his own thoughts.

Dante stared straight ahead, making eye contact with himself through the TV’s reflection. He sat there for a moment, completely unmoving. He’s sure if someone walked in, they would assume he’d died.

And then, somewhere between mourning the loss of you and processing Laurance’s words, Dante was hit with a sense of clarity.

He’d never really put effort into anything. He enjoyed the chase, but once a girl showed no interest he gave up. And when a girl did show interest, he rejected her when she finally made a move.

He’d never been in this situation before. Having feelings for someone that obviously shared them, and then being very politely rejected because their interests didn’t match.

He started by looking up the Phoenix Drop High theatre program on Instagram. It wasn’t a hard find, as the account was public and followed by Katelyn. He scrolled through the posts, clicking on the pinned one and reading through the advertisement.

It was for the musical. The words She Loves Me were centered in easy to read swirly writing and letters were scattered around the whole flyer. Dante looked at the performance times. It was Sunday, meaning he had one more chance.

He found himself thinking, I’m in deep, as he held his phone up to his ear, waiting for the recipient to answer.

“What do you want?”

Dante breathed out a sigh of relief. “Hey, Katelyn. I was, uh, looking through events in Phoenix Drop and saw that the local high school is putting on a performance.

“So?”

“Do you wanna go with me?”

Katelyn was silent for a moment. “This isn’t going to be a date, right?”

“No,” Dante answered quickly. “No, it’s not. I just want to go.”

Another moment of silence. Then, Katelyn softly exhaled. “Fine.”

—

The last time Dante had been in the Phoenix Drop High auditorium was for his graduation. Irene, he didn’t even want to think about how long ago that was.

It looked the exact same as it did in his memory, though instead of a row of chairs being lines up on the stage there were five small buildings.

He’d paid for both his and Katelyn’s tickets. It was the least he could do for bringing her, though he suspected she had already been since the red-haired woman in the lobby said, “Welcome back.”

Dante didn’t care. He mindlessly followed Katelyn down the rows until she stopped and slipped into seats. Dante sat in the one beside her, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

He didn’t know why he had dressed nicer than usual. He knew his usual jeans and T-shirt would have sufficed. But some part of him wanted to . . . Impress you. Win you back, maybe. Convince you that he did care about you and that he was willing to put effort into making sure you knew that.

Irene, he was down bad. Look at him, all dressed up to attend a show he had absolutely zero interest in. What kind of boy in love was he?

Dante never expected to find himself in an auditorium, anticipating the start of the coming show. He never thought he’d be putting this much effort into anything for a girl either. He’d never been that kind of person. His high school self would’ve laughed at him if he knew just how deep in his feelings Dante was.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but when the room lights dimmed and the stage lights lit up in shades of yellow and a pitchy freshman came onstage singing Good morning, Dante couldn’t help but smile.

What he couldn’t figure out was why.

—

He pieced it together when the curtain closed for intermission and he immediately stood up, spinning around like a dummy trying to find you. It was because he could see you in every part of the play. He didn’t know your tastes that well, but the fact that you had chosen a musical about love made perfect sense to him. He was able to see your hand in every set piece and costume—even the way your students acted. A few of your mannerisms were scattered throughout, like the way you covered your mouth when you laughed or twirled your hair when you flirted. He saw all of that.

He didn’t find you during intermission, but once Georg and Amalia kissed and exited and the bows were done and the very last song was sang and you came on stage, a wide smile spread across Dante’s face. There you were, beaming at the audience with pride in the work you had done. You thanked everyone for coming, as well as the entire cast and crew and other unnamed adults that helped tremendously during rehearsals. And then finally, when you set the microphone back on the stand and let your students disperse into the crowd to find their friends and family, Dante was able to get close to you.

Katelyn had already bid him goodbye and left, not caring for whatever Dante was trying to do. Which, if she had waited for him it would’ve been a while. Dante couldn’t quite get close to you. Some parents or student or camera man was constantly walking up to you. But, now that Katelyn was gone, Dante was stranded if you didn’t take him back.

It wasn’t until you’d taken a final photo with the girl who played Amalia (Dante eavesdropped and learned her name was Alexis) that he was able to approach you.

He called your name, which made you turn toward him. When you saw who it was, your eyes widened. Your mouth opened like you were going to say something before you shut it again.

“Dante,” you finally settled on saying. “You’re here.”

Dante smiled. “Yeah. I am.”

—

Finishing a show was always a surreal experience for you. It was always difficult to believe that you had pulled everything together. That the choices you made had created a beautiful portrayal of any play or musical.

The final show was by far the best. Alexis and Yip had managed to perfect the chemistry woven into every conversation Amalia and Georg had. Not to mention Kyle had made a shockingly good Kodaly.

You were beaming with pride and joy while you stood on the stage, thanking everyone for coming and supporting Phoenix Drop High’s theatre students.

Maybe youd lost the one chance at love you had because he didn’t like what you liked, but that was okay. As long as you were able to continue doing what you loved, to continue guiding students into fields they excelled in and enjoyed, it was okay.

You weren’t expecting to see him, though, and when you did your heart squeezed tight.

He was dressed nicely. Slacks and a pressed white collared shirt, not unlike the outfit he’d worn on your date two weeks ago. He was obviously out of place, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Dante,” you breathed. Your mouth felt dry. What were you supposed to say? You had broken off whatever relationship you had with him because he didn’t want t come, but now . . . “You’re here.”

He smiled. It was soft. Very different from the boyish one he typically sported. His gaze flitted around your face—your eyes then your eyebrows then your cheeks and your lips. “I am.”

“You said you weren’t coming.”

Dante let out a heavy breath. “I did.”

It seemed like he wanted to add more. “But?”

“Well, a friend of mine made me realize that you’re something special.”

“You couldn’t realize that yourself?” Your tone was lighthearted, but behind the teasing you were a bit hurt. It took someone else to make Dante realize he wanted to be with you?

“No, I-“ Dante stuttered, his cheeks turning pink. “Yes. I could realize that myself. It just didn’t- I’m not the best at this.”

“What happened to being a ladies man?”

“Well.” Dante paused, hesitating. It wasn’t until you raised an eyebrow at him in question that he let out a short breath and continued. “I was more of a ladies man in high school, and even I was, uh . . . Low commitment.”

Your eyes widened, but you laughed. Irene, Dante missed that sound. “Low commitment?”

“Loved the chase, not so much the reward.”

You only laughed again, covering your mouth. When your laughter died down, you asked, “So what? Am I, like, your first actual relationship?”

“Sort of? I mean, you and I hadn’t really reached the officially dating stage, so . . .”

You smiled softly. Seeing Dante nervous was refreshing. On all of your dates before he had been the biggest flirt you’d ever met. Seeing him fumble over his words was endearing. It reminded you that he was a human with feelings, too.

“I’m glad you came,” you admitted after a moment.

“I had to,” he replied. It made your smile widen, because he really didn’t. He could have stayed home and continued to try and pursue you. You would have given in eventually. But no, Dante decided to attend the show you had orchestrated. Dante decided to make an effort.

It made your heart swell.

“Do you wanna, like, hang out? Like right now?” he asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. It was probably do you didn’t notice him fidgeting with your fingers.

Your smile slightly faded. Even though the show was officially over, you were still just a tad busy. You saw the moment Dante recognized that. “I’m sorry. There are a couple things I do for seniors since it’s their last show,” you explained.

Dante shook his head. “No, no. It’s alright. I can wait.”

That made you smile, and Dante smiled as well. He was willing to wait.

The two of you walked for a moment longer before Yip announced that they were going to start their little traditions. Dante sat himself back in the audience and watched as your students gathered on the stage and swirled around each other and shared heartwarming stories about their time in the theatre program.

He watched your delight as Levin and Malachi gifted you a bouquet of pink daisies and a VHS of some old She Loves Me production they had found at the thrift store.

He waited until the students started leaving one by one, and when the last one finally left, he approached you again. Now it was just the two of you in the auditorium.

You smiled at him, gathering the daisies and VHS in your arms before swiping your keys from a table backstage. “Ready?”

Dante nodded, eyeing the bouquet in your hands. “I’ll get you flowers. Big ones.”

You chuckled. “You don’t have to. You already came all dressed up.”

“I want to.” Dante offered his hand to take the keys, which you gave him. It looked like he would be driving. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You beamed, following Dante out the red doors in the back. Your car wasn’t parked far. It barely took a second to reach it. You opened the back seat and set the bouquet and VHS down. “So your solution is to ask me with flowers?”

“Yes.”

You smiled, shutting the door before turning to him. He was standing less than an arm’s length away.

“You just have to ask, you know?”

Dante’s blue eyes glimmered. They were such a pretty shade, their color akin to sapphires. He smiled down at you, and then he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his lips. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You tried to stop your lips from curling up, but it was useless. You stood straighter and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Yes.”

The moment felt right, so Dante pressed his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss he’d ever had. Your lips were soft and you tasted like cherries, and Dante found that he never wanted to pull away or be without your touch.

You got him good.

can you guys tell i had fun writing this based on how long it is lmao

TAGGING: if you’d like to be notified whenever I write for Dante or other characters, comment, DM or send in an ask to let me know!

[hearts-hunger]

i don't even know what to say about tlou hbo at this point. anything goes, i guess? and it sucks?

ellie narrowly escapes getting hung by the seraphites after miraculously surviving a several mile float to scar island. yeah, whatever. sure.

she almost performs a fucking c section?? i will say this did serve to humanize mel and give me some sympathy for her, but it was so jarring that it was kind of a net zero effect.

she... feels that maybe joel did deserve what happened to him? and dina also feels that way? because boy fucking howdy does neil druckmann want to get rid of any nuance in joel's character. villainize that man from the top down. have ellie painstakingly tell a horrified dina what joel did. make him a monster even after his death, with no regard for the fact that he did all that to save his kid.

ellie also feels really sad and says so to abby, sobbingly, about killing owen and mel? like, is she here to kill them or not?

jesse and ellie are all over the fucking place with "you're good i'm bad no wait i'm good you're bad" and why the FUCK is ellie going to risk her life and jesse's for some scar like she's not here just to kill people

i like show jesse being mean to show ellie because she's fucking annoying but that's not his character at all. so i can't really in good conscience enjoy it. god did any character come out of this show unscathed by shit writing and blatant mischaracterization

i might catch some heat for this but bella ramsey just isn't a good actor, all things considered. like i'm sorry but every delivery is just so one dimensional and flat. i don't care necessarily bc it doesn't make or break the show for me, but i'm sick of hearing how great of an actor they are when they're just kinda..... adequate. this is nowhere more apparent than in the "i made her talk" scene when bella's just....... whatever and game ellie is practically radiating with misery and anguish.

also, with regard to this scene, i don't understand dina's response. in the game i don't think dina ever knows about salt lake or that to make a cure ellie would have had to die. i have the feeling that if she did know, she'd be on joel's side. but now we have show dina, who has been the revenge anchor point so far, deciding maybe joel was a monster after all and they need to go home because he deserved what he got and revenge bad!!! or something.

why are we spending so much time with the wlf and isaac when we have a WHOLE FUCKING SEASON dedicated to them coming up?? can we focus on the main characters of this part of the story, please? can we not rush their scenes just to squeeze in five more minutes of some fuckass wlf bullshit???

this show is just ellie planning for a baby that isn't even hers and then getting reminded that "oh yeah i'm on a revenge mission!" and the narrative dissonance between those two is never addressed

is she angry? is she selfish? is she violent? it seems like she's just a huge fucking mess because the writers can't decide. she's impulsive and stupid and hell bent on revenge until she's not, until she feels sad about hurting someone, until she takes the moral high ground, but then she's mad at jesse for taking the moral high ground, and she's mad at joel for being a bad person, but she can't wait to kill everyone...... she's a bitch she's a lover she's a child she's a mother she's a sinner she's a saint she does not feel ashamed

oh hi gabriel luna it was nice to see your totally underutilized character for two minutes. by the way, care to explain why tommy was sniping abby and manny if he didn't think he should get revenge for joel? just curious as to your character's 180 here

geez abby's skinny even for a regular person. get that girl a sandwich. also, super ending but i'm afraid i'm simply not that hype for a new season coming out years from now that promises to be just as bad as this one.

to be honest i'm glad it's over because i'm tired of the continual butchering of my favorite piece of media ever. but it fucking blows that this version is the one people are going to know. that people are singing hbo's praises for a really shit adaptation of a genre-defining, groundbreaking, truly compelling piece of storytelling. when it's all said and done, i will never not be upset that something i love this much got reduced to..... whatever the fuck this was.

[finally-im-home]

Words from your resident hope-giver:

I’ve been holding on to hope all this time, even while preparing my heart for the bad news.

It’s just—this wouldn’t hurt so much if they hadn’t promised us a dreamland, only to pour tar over it. What happened here isn’t just about the loss of a second season (which, honestly, I wasn’t overly concerned about—the first ended beautifully). It’s about two people we admire being mistreated, misrepresented, and abandoned by the very system that should’ve uplifted them.

Both their companies are tactical—and frankly, cowardly. It’s painfully clear they’re shifting blame, doing PR damage control, and still trying to wring money out of fans through a paywalled “documentary” that plays more like a smear campaign than a tribute.

I can't help but think about a clip I saw from the documentary where the director and another woman (I don’t even care to learn who she is at this point) reflected on how Boom’s initial energy was “not good.” They said he was good-looking and a great actor, but “gloomy.” Now, I want to believe they didn’t mean it maliciously—maybe they were just trying to highlight how far Boom had come in transforming into Akin. But why point to something so personal—something he’s likely still sensitive about—to talk about one of his best performances?

They could have told his story as a triumph:

A man abandoned by his family. Wrongfully imprisoned. Blacklisted. And still—he rose. He came back. He gave a performance that moved people, connected people, and built a fandom that’s still here. Still fighting. Still feeling the ripples of what he created.

And they reduce all that to “he didn’t have the energy”???

I don’t know what the future holds for Smart and Boom—but I do believe this may be a blessing in disguise. If the system never planned to protect them, maybe it’s better that they’re free from it. It hurts like hell right now, but this? This is not the end of their story.

I just hope—pray—that SmartBoom have the strength to keep going, to not give up without a fight.

Sometimes it's just a matter of time. The Universe can/will do anything to repay your misfortunes. Remember RDJ? Initially, the makers were so against casting him as Iron Man. But Jon Favreau not only vouched for him strongly but also took the sole risk of a potential movie failure. And look what happened. Sometimes all it takes is one person who believes in you. One risk. One right place, right time. The world told RDJ he was finished, a liability. And yet look who became the face of an entire universe.

Boom and Smart—especially Boom—deserve that kind of chance. Someone who sees past a bad day or a quiet demeanor or a complicated past, and instead sees talent, heart, and resilience.

Let them throw stones. Let the companies burn bridges. Because some of us? We’re building monuments in the ashes.

And I promise you—the universe sees that.

Hold on to hope. Not blind optimism—but rooted hope. Grounded in truth and talent and love.

There will come a day when this story flips. And when it does? We’ll be there—ready to say:

“We never gave up on them.” 🩷🩵🖤

[strawwritesfic]

Matt Murdock x Reader: Introspection

Summary: A long day of soul-searching leads you right to the offices of Nelson & Murdock.

Rating/Tags: G (Gender of Reader Is Not Specified; Second Person POV; Lawyer!Reader; Secret Identity; Beginning of Romance; Not Canon Compliant)

Word Count: 2,110

Challenge: 160 Collective Drabbles

Prompt: Seductive

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: And now I have quadrupled my output from last year. Wow!

I actually work in a courtroom (I'm not an attorney), but I'm nowhere near New York. I did look up a few things to double-check legal stuff for the county this should be set in and whatnot. Still, if you happen to know I got a detail wrong, please let me know! I am always eager to learn and correct. Also, I've never seen anything beyond Daredevil season one, and it's been so long that the voice I had for Matt was based more on Samuel Brewer's performance in Terminal Degree.

Titling this one was a real pain. It's still not great. They've all been pretty bad lately, haven't they?

Ao3 Version Here

Introspection

Most of Hell's Kitchen was shrouded in darkness when you stepped out of your taxi in the wee hours of the morning. The businesses lining the streets loomed empty around you. Surely those living in the apartments nearby slept as best they could—though how, with the bass pounding from the still-hopping clubs a block or two over, you didn't know. Your driver must have heard those siren calls himself, because you barely had time to pay his fare before he sped away. You stood stranded in the island of light coming from the streetlamp above your head.

Well, what was the point in catching a ride all the way out here in the middle of the night only to chicken out when you got there? This would not be the first time you ate crow, nor did you suspect it would be last. You tried not to anticipate the taste too much as you took a deep breath and forced yourself to face the shadowed entrance to the offices of Nelson & Murdock.

You wavered for a moment with your arm outstretched, hand nearly grasping the bar across the door. Yes, it was dark inside. Not a single light on in the entire building as far as you could tell. And why should you think anyone would be here at 2:00 in the morning? Just because you'd been stuck at your office this late didn't mean the same for everyone else working the case.

No. No excuses. You'd just steeled your resolved to press forward when you heard a commotion above your head: the clang of something hitting metal, followed by rapid footsteps. You grabbed at once for the canister of pepper spray in your purse, but when you looked in the direction of the sound, you saw nothing that might have caused it.

Probably just a stray cat.

This time, you really did force yourself to push on the door. It opened easily. Damn. Now you had to go through with this, or at least check for signs of a break-in—not that you were likely to see any in the pitch-black you now stood in.

Your call of "Hello?" broke in two after its first syllable, interrupted by a series of thumps issuing from the ceiling.

What it was was absolutely too big to be a cat.

You should have called the police. Obviously! What could you do to stop someone with the balls to rob a defense attorney's office? Your pepper spray wouldn't do a thing to stop someone like that. But your feet took you up the stairs before you could reach for your cell phone instead. Somehow, someway, you managed to bound all the way up the incline without tripping on something in the unfamiliar territory.

There. The nearest door. You could hear beyond it. With as much force as you could muster, you slammed the door open. At least if you could startle the intruder, that would give you the chance to —

"Counselor. What an unexpected surprise."

—the chance to look like a complete buffoon. Matt Murdock sat at Matt Murdock's desk in Matt Murdock's office, looking entirely unruffled in the light coming from the window behind him. Well, maybe not entirely unruffled. It looked as though he had hat hair, although your jobs being what they were, you'd never actually seen him wear a hat.

You must have waited too long to speak, because Matt cocked his head slightly to one side and asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Uh," you said, in a desperate bid for time. But the second it took you to say that didn't give you any grand ideas for answers. "I was in the neighborhood."

"This neighborhood? Really?"

How did this man always manage to sound so polite and so condescending at the same damn time? You stalked up to his desk and slammed your palms into its surface. Matt didn't even flinch. "Listen, Murdock. I was nearby, I heard something up here, and I rushed in to help at risk of my life. And this is the thanks I get?"

"I take it by your attitude that you were not 'nearby' to offer apologies for your earlier conduct," he observed in that same infuriatingly mild tone.

"What I was nearby for isn't the point!"

"On the contrary, Counselor. I think what you're doing breaking into my office when you didn't believe anyone would be here is the point."

"I—" You bristled, cutting yourself off as you realized Matt had you dead to rights. After your performance that morning, people weren't likely to believe you had good intentions being where you were when you were. You wouldn't believe it, had the roles been reversed. So you forced yourself to inhale slowly and step away from his desk.

"I only lied about why I was here. I did come to see you. But I didn't break in. The door was unlocked."

"And you decided to keep going even though all the lights were turned off."

"I told you I heard something up here!"

There was just something about Matt's demeanor that pushed all your buttons, and you weren't known for your even temper to begin with. Then it dawned on you:

"And you are here. Why are you here sitting in the dark?"

One corner of Matt's lips twitched up. "Well, it isn't as though I need a lamp. It keeps the bills down, which in turn keeps Foggy's blood pressure down."

"Do you often say here in a completely dark building so late after closing?"

"No. Our discussion today raised some questions for me. After all this time, I'd hate to see my client in chains over a technicality." He tapped on the thick, hard cover of a tome sitting closed in front of him. "And you're lucky I did tonight and that I have no plans to press charges."

"And if you did, I'd never try to prevent someone from stealing from you again."

"I'll be more careful to lock the door when I'm here alone late. At any rate, I'm afraid all you heard was my fumbling through my case files. I'm sorry for causing you concern."

"Are you sure? I swear I heard someone on the fire escape before I came in."

"Must have been a stray cat," he said as he moved to switch on his desk lamp. Doing so could only be for your benefit. You took the hint and collapsed into the chair across from him. God, even just talking to this man made you tired. "Not that I don't appreciate a purely social call from a person of your caliber, but I do have a lot of reading to do before I file in the morning. Why don't you just tell me what brought you here to begin with," he said.

Your hackles raised automatically. It took some willpower to lower them—willpower and a reminder that you'd already admitted to wanting to see him. The fight left you as you sighed.

"I came to say...I'm sorry," you said.

A long paused followed your statement. Matt appeared frozen in place. "Excuse me?"

A spark of frustration seared inside your chest, but you stifled it before it could grow. You'd spent most of the day consumed by that fire. Time to let it go.

"I'm sorry for my behavior in court this morning. The judge should have held me in contempt. I was out of line."

There was more, and Matt must have known that. He said nothing while you mentally prepared to continue.

"We've both been on this case for a long time. It's been my life for months now. And the suggestion we might be on the wrong track..."

"Stung?" Matt offered pleasantly.

"It's ludicrous! My investigator couldn't be that wrong. All my witnesses can't be lying. The evidence leads us directly to your client. But..."

Matt's eyebrows folded into one long line above the frames of his glasses. "But?"

"You were right," you said softly. "Maybe I've been living this too long. Maybe I want this to be over more than I want the truth."

It was a difficult thing to admit. The implications of doing so would have far-reaching consequences. But as long as you said it out loud, one of those consequences wouldn't have to be losing your soul in the slow-grinding wheels of justice.

"Thank you for saying that," Matt said, and oh no. You recognized that note in his voice. If you let him go on in it, you'd regret it. "I—"

"Which is why tomorrow I'm going to request to be withdrawn from the case."

"What?"

"It'll be better for everyone involved. We can get some fresh eyes on it, let someone new take a look."

"You getting taken off the case is the last thing I wanted."

"Why? It's not as though you've invoked your right to a speedy trial."

"You know the case. You know my client is innocent!"

"I don't know that, Matt!"

"But you admit it's a possibility."

Your hesitation to disagree answered for you. Matt half-rose from behind his desk, leaning across it to whisper, "Don't you want to know? Don't you want to find out why they've all been lying to you?"

You shook your head. "I think all I really want is to be done."

The unasked question of done with what? rang in the air. An unexpected lump in your throat made it impossible for you to speak. Then Matt opened a drawer, and the sudden noise of it made you jump in your seat.

"You know what we both need?" That strangely impish smile of his had returned.

"A straitjacket and a white room?"

"A break." He stood with his briefcase in his hand. "You said it yourself. We've been working this case a long time. A few hours of time to ourselves won't ruin it."

You nodded again as you dragged yourself up out of his chair. That was all you had the energy for. "I'll get out of your hair. I should probably try to get some sleep before I talk to my boss anyway."

A faint touch on your elbow kept you from moving very far. When you glanced back, you found Matt's hand grasping you there. "Come with me," he said.

Great. Now you'd been mulling things over so much you were hallucinating. You jab about the straitjackets sharpened into a nearing reality. In an effort to save the miniscule amount of dignity remaining to you, you laughed a little hysterically during your attempt to shake him off.

"I'm not going to your house with you, Murdock."

"You wound me, Counselor. What sort of cad do you take me for?"

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"The bars are still open for another or so. Let me buy you a drink. We can talk."

You recoiled far enough to get his arm to drop. "And what will people think of us out colluding in public?"

Matt shrugged. "We won't talk about the case, so we won't be colluding."

"We can claim that all we want. The judge will be concerned with what the witness thinks they saw."

"If someone accuses us of colluding, what's the big deal?" Here, he looked over his red lenses directly into your eyes; you felt goosebumps prickle up your arms at the feeling Matt could actually see you. "You're already talking about stepping back. I happen to know a defense firm that might be interested in someone of your talents if you get forced out."

He shifted his cane and his case to offer you his arm in silence, the obvious ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. You paused. His offer sounded good—better than it should have, considering all your bombastic meetings in court up until then. Then, before you could change your mind, you bent over to switch off Matt's lamp. Your arms hooked together, and his smile widened before he tugged you gently in the direction of the exit.

Matt Murdock was an infuriating man. Equal parts charm and sarcasm, you always found yourself thinking about him long after any hearing where you tried to tear each other apart. At the same time, you couldn't deny that he was honest and good, and, you thought, while you locked the door to the office behind you both with the key he passed to you, more than a little seductive when you got him alone. If things didn't work out with your boss later that morning, taking Matt up on his offer didn't seem like an awful idea after all.

[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER THREE (MELBOURNE & IMOLA)

genre: angst, fluff, comfort, etc.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: more heartbreak but that's probs it

author's note: hello again !!! i've been meaning to post this for several days now but never found the strength to proofread it all. decided to fit melbourne and imola both into one chapter because they were kinda short on their own, and they are about a lot of similar stuff so i think it made sense. hope you enjoy, thank you for all love on this <33 monaco chapter is like maybe halfway done so it shouldn't take too long !! (& i like that one more hehe)

series masterlist

MELBOURNE

"ollie, put on your sunglasses," dino tells his friend, doing the same with his own reflective sunglasses before flipping his cap around. "let's look tough and cool."

you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the boys in front of you. ollie does as he's told, both of them crossing their arms over their chests as they lean their shoulders against each others. "is that really the pose you're going for?" you ask, and you're instantly met with a string of protests from the impatient swedish man, making you raise your hands in defense. "as you wish..."

you lean back slightly to fit the whole wall behind them into the frame, all works of graffiti apparently important to include, according to your friend. you're glad that you were quick to press the button to take the picture since, of course, they can't keep the pose for more than a few seconds before breaking into a fit of laughter.

you may be complaining a lot about having been dragged around melbourne the entire day, taking photos of your friends, and being forced to socialize. but really, you're thankful for this opportunity to take your mind off everything that's been going on. during your entire break since jeddah, you've been mourning your feature race and dwelling on everything about paul. it's easy to get stuck in your head, to only remember the bad things. and in those times, you're glad to have people around you to pull you out of the darkness.

melbourne will be different. that's what you've been telling yourself ever since you got out of the car in jeddah. you got your first f3 win here last season, and despite how it's still a fairly new track to you, you have a lot of confidence driving around it. you have faith in your car, and you know you have the skills to perform well. you just need to actually score some points again to keep up in the championship.

"can you two losers stop laughing already?" you huff, slipping your phone into your pocket. "i'm starving, and i refuse to have dinner in the f2 hospitality before the race weekend has even started."

"blah blah blah, you're just picky," dino says as he strolls up to you, one of his hands coming up to mess up your hair. you shoot him a glare. "whatever, let's get going. i'm really hungry myself, actually."

you rake a hand through your hair to fix the chaos he caused, before hurrying to keep up with the long-legged boys who've already started walking away. as you squeeze in between them, ollie reaches for your hand, fingers slipping between yours. you let out a content sigh; not only because you're finally getting some food, nor because of the way ollie squeezes your hand.

like this, it's like you don't seem to have a single care about anything in the world. like you've just flown across the world to hang out with your best friend and your boyfriend, to just have fun and relax in the sun.

dino and ollie pick up on the change in your mood, too; it's hard not to. though you haven't spent any time with them during the break, with the trio split up between england and italy, your slump has been so palpable that they could tell even from so far away. so seeing you this lighthearted and happy makes them satisfied, too.

the calm before the storm, as they say.

"and you said i was the picky one?" you ask as dino sits down at your table in the hospitality, nothing but some plain pasta and some kind of meat pie on his plate.

"you're not much better now, are you?" he asks back, glancing down at your empty plate and then up at your face again. the little baguette you've already eaten was not nearly enough to fuel you for the upcoming qualifying session.

you sigh. "i miss the fish and chips we had yesterday..."

"that was definitely not a part of our diet plan."

a scoff passes your lips and you shake your head. "maybe it wasn't the best possible food for my performance," you start, looking over your shoulder at the long buffet table. "but at least it was edible. my muscles may not have grown, but my heart sure did. isn't that important, too?"

dino chuckles as he chews down some pasta, shrugging his shoulders. "speaking of your heart," he says before taking a long sip from his water bottle. "i was surprised to see how lovey-dovey you and ollie were yesterday."

you raise an eyebrow at him. "aren't we always like that?"

"yeah you are, that's the thing."

you pause for a long moment. "and what's that supposed to mean?"

a sliver of regret makes its way onto his face, so slight you almost don't pick up on it. "well..." he tries his best to play it cool, even pulling his phone out of his pocket to check his notifications, but you see right through him. "i may have heard something, but it doesn't mat-"

you can't stop yourself from cutting him off. "tell me. now."

now it's dino's time to let out a sigh, pulling a hand through his hair. "i heard that you and ollie were having problems. but clearly, that's not the case."

"and who told you that?"

"well, here's the thing, i-" dino's voice cracks just like it always does when he's nervous or when he's lying. he takes a second to clear his throat, and you intervene.

"it was paul, wasn't it?" you ask, and he doesn't answer. the fact that he doesn't immediately deny it, along with his blank expression, gives it away. "that idiot! oh my god..." dino is just about to speak up again, to explain himself or make up an excuse, but you give him no space. "why are you listening to him and not me? why would you not ask me if it's true before assuming something? is he really more reliable when it comes to my relationship?"

"y/n, you know i'm stuck between you three. you're all my best friends, and..." he drags a hand down his face, shaking his head. "how should i know who to trust and who to talk to? i can't even mention him around you."

when his words kick in, your expression softens from the infuriated frown you were earlier displaying. you understand what he means; it must be hard for him to be in the middle of this ongoing cold war. "i get it, i get it," you finally say with a dismissive hand gesture. "just... tell me the details. tell me exactly what he said."

to be fair, the things paul had said to dino weren't as bad as you had expected. it had just been a tiny comment, something along the lines of how paul wasn't sure if you and ollie were still as comfortable around each other since you weren't spotted with him in the paddock in bahrain.

a full-on lie, but not the worst thing to ever happen.

though, what dino then tells you about, is the fact that paul wasn't the only one he heard about it from. kimi had confided in him, too; just like gabriel and dennis.

kimi's story had been pretty much the same as what paul told dino, but dennis said that he had heard that you and ollie had broken up already. and according to gabriel, paul has been telling people that you and ollie are only dating for publicity.

what a joke.

the weight of the rumors sits heavy on your shoulders, but you refuse to let them break you. and despite how much you loathe the thought of even looking at him, your body is bubbling with the need to confront him. this can't go on.

how are you supposed to not think about paul and ollie all day, every day after that?

when you know your ex-boyfriend has been spreading fake rumors about you, how are you supposed to look at his stupid smile when he's walking through the paddock and not punch him in the face?

you manage to restrain yourself, with some help from pepe subtly grabbing your arm to hold you back whenever he notices that paul is near. the negative thing is that it means you don't get an outlet for your emotions.

you have yet to find any positives to it.

you were always told to not mix your driving with romance. now, you understand why. you're so distracted that pretty much everything gets messed up your entire weekend. you aren't able to prepare well for your sessions, so you end up with a weak 15:th position in the qualifying, along with one dnf in the sprint, in what's probably one of the fastest cars on the grid this weekend.

not even the feature works out for you. after a lucky start with five positions gained, you were finally fighting for points again. though, stalling in the pit is apparently not the most optimal thing to do when looking to climb the ranks, which was something you learned the hard way.

the worst of it all is the fact that of course paul ended up with yet another podium. where's the karma in that?

just when you've gotten out of your car and made your way back to the paddock, you spot him. he's on his way to the podium from the cooldown room, climbing a staircase and loudly chatting with zane maloney about the race.

this time, you can't hold back. he ruined your race; he deserves your anger.

"you're a complete idiot, you know that, right?"

your voice startles zane, who looks at you with a guilty expression for a moment until he takes in paul's reaction, realizing that he's not the one you're mat at. "yeah?" the estonian chuckles.

"yeah, you are!" the volume and intensity of your voice rise by the second as you make your way to the foot of the staircase. "where did you find the audacity to run around spreading false rumors about me and my boyfriend?!"

zane slowly steps away, not wanting to get caught in this crossfire, and ascends the steps towards the podium. paul's amused expression doesn't change at all. "what false rumors?"

you gawk at him, completely dumbfounded by his entire way of acting. "that we're having issues."

"well, you are."

"we are not!"

"come on," he starts shaking his head as you take a quick couple of steps up the staircase. "it's easy to see that you're not happy with him."

it doesn't take long for you to reach the landing he's standing on, and for the first time ever, you find yourself hating how tall he is. the way he looks down at you only furthers your aggravation – it's like you're smaller, like you matter less, like you aren't as strong. "and how would you know that i'm not happy?"

he sighs, as if he's completely uninterested in this entire conversation. like your anger doesn't affect him the slightest. "because i know you." he shrugs. "you don't smile like you used to. ollie isn't right for you."

"oh, but you were?!" you scoff, not believing your ears. "you're so conceited, holy shit! you just ruined my weekend, you ruined both of my races, just- leave me and ollie alone!"

when you turn around to descend the stairs again, you notice the crowd that's started to form below you. great. you haven't exactly been subtle, and you wouldn't be surprised if your yells could be heard all the way back to the campos garage. the sight should scare you – any other day, you would've been so embarrassed you'd want to melt through the floor. but right now, you're too full on anger to care.

"maybe you would be driving better if you were still with me."

paul's voice stops you just as you're about to walk down the first step. you slowly turn back to him, mouth gaping wide and eyes blown up.

"something about being with him is clearly bothering you. you weren't like this when you were with me." you're at a loss for words, which he notices and takes advantage of. "you're prioritizing him over your own racing. you did it in bahrain, you did it again in jeddah. it's not good for you."

"maybe what's not good for me is you, have you ever thought about that?" you walk up to him, a finger pressed up to his chest as you stare up at him. "maybe the reason i'm distracted because you won't leave me alone! you keep on spreading these stupid rumors about me and-" you have to pause for a moment to force down the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. "i can't take it! just back the fuck off!"

you feel like you could explode any second – if that isn't what you just did – and the fact that paul still looks like he doesn't give one single fuck about this makes you want to give him that beating he so deserves. but you hear pepe's voice in the back of your head, reminding you of how the fia wouldn't appreciate having a driver on the grid who gets into fistfights, and so you back off. with one last shake of your head, you turn again, storming down the stairs.

the sea of people at the end of the staircase splits open for you and you hurry away, not taking any time to see if you notice anyone you know in the crowd. you hear a familiar voice call out for you, one you can't quite identify, but you continue running towards your truck.

paul is an idiot – there's no denying in that fact.

but why was there more passion in these two minutes of fighting him than you've had in your entire relationship with ollie?

he can't be right, you decide. you really are in love with ollie, but not in a way that makes you compromise your racing. it's a great relationship, no matter how different it is from the one you had with paul. he may not believe it, but you will make it work.

he can't be right. you won't let him.

ollie heard about the fight between you and paul just minutes later. of course, there are people around the paddock who loves to run around and gossip – and how could they not tell the story of this huge fight to the man who was the topic of it?

in hindsight, he should've come to you instantly. he thought that the wise thing would be to give you space, to give you a few moments to breathe before he came in with all kinds of questions.

but then, when you finally come out of the campos truck over an hour later and make your way over to where he is waiting for you, he can't say anything. he sees the redness of your eyes and hears your heavy sighs loud and clear, and he knows you won't want to talk. he's too late; the wound may still be far from healed, but he still doesn't want to rip off the bandaid you've so carefully applied on yourself.

all he can do is wrap his arms around you, let you rest against his chest and kiss the top of your head, hoping to bring you at least a little bit of comfort.

next time, he will be quicker. he will be there for you right when you need it.

ollie sleeps soundlessly next to you when you pull out your journal from the bedside table. he hasn't had the most flawless weekend either, but at least he scored his first points of the season, which is a great start.

you usually can write paragraphs upon paragraphs about paul. any other day, you're jane austen and nicholas sparks both in one body. but today, there's only one thing that comes out of you.

paul aron is an asshole.

after a few seconds of just staring at your blank journal, another sentence comes to you; one you just can't bring yourself to write down.

but what if he's right?

maybe what you have with ollie isn't true love.

but maybe it's enough.

yourusername just posted!

yourusername not the best weekend race-wise, but alright off the track. we will come back stronger, thank you to the team for all of the hard work :)

show all 54 comments

user keep pushing y/n!! don't let this weekend affect you ❤️

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user .....what is pepe doing in the last slide?

→ yourusername wish i knew 🤷‍♀️ he sure looked silly doing it, that's all i know

→ user ollie and dino then?

→ yourusername 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user pretty embarrassing weekend tbh

→ user send your hate somewhere else

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user did anyone else hear those rumors... about her and paul....

→ user omg what rumors

→ user check your dms 😘

IMOLA

melbourne was not a good weekend in any possible way, and having it be the last weekend before a long break? not exactly what you had hoped for.

in times like these, you do the one thing you're better at than anyone; distracting yourself.

hours upon hours in the red bull simulator, mornings and evenings at the gym, rewatching old f1 and f2 races all night. anything to get your mind off your love life. pepe is a lifesaver too, since he's good at picking up on the little hints about your current mood and he understands which of your buttons not to push when you're like this.

though ollie understands why you're behaving the way you are after melbourne, he still doesn't enjoy the fact that you're much less open and harder to get hold of. there's a long period of time where you don't answer his texts as often as you usually do, where you cut your face time calls short for random reasons, and where he just can't get through to you. and it hurts him so much more since he's several hours away in italy, not able to properly talk to you about it.

that's why he was overjoyed when you arrived in imola a few days earlier than you needed, just so the two of you could spend some time alone before the weekend started.

it's currently wednesday night, and you just need to swing by your hotel room before heading out for dinner. "i'm to be really quick," you say as the light on the door blinks green and you enter, shuffling over to your suitcase. "i just need to find my purse..."

ollie strolls around for a few moments, almost as if inspecting the room, before just standing to watch the sun set over the city through your balcony door. eventually, you hear his voice from behind you. "what's this?"

when you turn around, you find him staring down into your open duffle bag on the floor – and on top of all your clothes lies your journal.

shit.

"it's... nothing."

he chuckles. "it's clearly not nothing. it looks like it's been used quite a lot," he says, eyes moving over to you. "is it a novel? a calendar?"

you turn back to your suitcase, pretending like it's no big deal, that you're just much more interested in finding your purse. "well, something like that."

"something like what?" ollie frowns, bending down a little to take a closer look at the outside.

"found it!" you reach for your handbag, pulling it out and holding it up in the air as you step away from the suitcase. "we can go now."

"why aren't you telling me? is it secret?"

ollie is stubborn; it's one of the things you like about him, one of the things that makes him the person he is. without his determination, he would've never made it to f2 nor the ferrari driver academy – and he wouldn't be your boyfriend. so, you aren't surprised that he's not letting go of your journal.

he can clearly tell it's a big deal for you, despite the fact that you try to hide it, and he can't help but feel a bit of worry creep into him when you don't answer him instantly. he regrets pushing you for an answer, but he's also immensely curious – and he's a bit tired of you still keeping secrets from him, despite the fact that he would never tell you that.

after a few more moments of silence, he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on the edge of the bed with him. and with the way he's looking at you, there's no way you can hold back from telling him.

you tell him about when you first bought it, that rainy day back home in cambridge and that little bookshop near your elementary school. you tell him about how it just called for you, begged for you to buy it, how the dark blue color felt like it was chosen just to attract attention from your eyes and your eyes only.

and you tell him about your therapist and the amount of time you've spent trying to work out all of your issues. you tell him about how when she suggested that you find an outlet for your emotions that's more easily accessible during race weekends, your mind instantly wandered to the little journal you'd bought but found no use for yet.

but you make sure to leave out all of the details, only filling him in on the major issues. you don't tell him about just how bad your performance anxiety gets, or about how close you've been to just quitting racing when your imposter syndrome thoughts cloud your mind. you can't let him know too much, get too close.

you try to brush it off as something casual, like it's no big deal; but you also make sure to tell him how extremely secret it is and about the many ways you would kill him by if you found out he'd read in it. your tone is one of levity, of course – but in reality, you weren't really kidding.

paul knew about the journal, too, and you knew how much he longed to know more than the color of the wrapping. you'd often find him with pleading eyes as he watched you write, tiny pout on his lips and a joking comment along the lines of "you're not cursing me out in that, are you?".

but despite how curious he was, paul never overstepped his boundaries. he would never – and you trust that ollie won't, either. he's far too good for that, too kindhearted and empathetic to go against your wishes. especially with how fragile and vulnerable you look to him in this moment.

he makes sure to listen to every word that leaves your mouth, nodding understandingly and letting you finish pouring your heart out before he speaks up.

"you know, you could also use me if you want to,” he starts, a gentle hand coming up to caress your cheek. "to talk to, i mean. or rant, or anything. if you think being vocal about it instead of writing could work."

of course he would try to find a way to help you out. to him, it's a win-win situation – if venting to him works for you, then that's great, but it would also mean that he could maybe finally work himself past that wall you've built up around yourself. if you start telling him about your feelings for your own sake, maybe he can finally get to know you better and get closer to you.

but that's the thing. opening up means being vulnerable, letting your guard down. you do trust him, you really do; so why can't you just do it?

ollie smiles at the little nod you give him – it's not a promise, but it's a good start. you've started talking to him, and he thinks that maybe the momentum will keep you going.

you realize that he's still holding your hand when he gives it a soft squeeze, standing up from the bed. "enough of that now," he says, trying to ignore the slightly somber expression taking over your features. "let's go to that restaurant, hm?"

you intertwine your fingers with his and rise next to him, slinging your purse over your shoulder with another nod. "let's go."

seven missed calls.

that's the sight you're met by when you scan over your phone notifications after your post-qualifying debrief with the team. you don't even need to check who they're from; you knew your dad would be dissatisfied with your results from the second you stepped out of your car halfway through the session.

before today, you hadn't spun out in a qualifying session since your karting days – but apparently, there's a first time for everything. another qualifying outside of the top ten means that yet again, you will be starting in the lower ranks in both races. missing out on the reverse grid always sucks, but it sucks a little extra when you know you could've, and should've, performed better. with pepe's third-place finish, you know your campos car was good enough to end up in the top of the timings. if only you'd kept the car on the track, maybe you could've proved something.

proven that you're capable, proven that you belong here. proven that you actually can handle the pressure.

if you know your dad right, he's definitely not calling to give you his condolences or cheer you up. it's not exactly his style. chances are, he's not just going to criticize your performance, but also compare it to a certain someone else's.

ollie managed to snatch that second place for the starting grid on sunday, which is something you should only be happy about. but as much as you adore your boyfriend and wish him all of the joy in the world, it's upsetting that he needed to perform so well this weekend. it's like the fuel to your dad's "you should've gone to ferrari"-fire he wanted so badly.

pepe knows that look on your face by now; he's been a first-hand witness to your fights with your father too many times to count by now. his hand on your shoulder gives you a quick squeeze after he's watched you flip your phone upside down on the table with a sigh before slumping further into your seat.

"did someone die in here or what?" sebastian's voice spreads through the room when he walks into it and catches a glimpse of you. the air is so thick with tension that he fears he will choke on it if he doesn't try to lighten the mood a bit.

"nothing except my weekend, i guess," you mumble back, not giving into his attempt that easily. what's he so happy for, anyway? his result of qualifying 25th isn't exactly something to celebrate, either.

"hey, cheer up," sebastian says. "we'll have an overtaking party this weekend!"

when you stay quiet, pepe says something quick in spanish to sebastian who just nods, eyes flickering between you two. you let out a groan – it's ironic, really, since you're a driver for a spanish team, but you hate it when people speak spanish around you since you can't understand it. especially when you know they're talking about you but not with you.

pepe apologizes instantly, but the smile on his lips never falters. not even your behavior is enough to stop him from beaming over his own qualifying results. for the first time in a while, he is actually happy after a session – and he won't let you ruin it.

"okay, come on. i have the perfect plan to save this night," pepe starts. your phone buzzes on the table with what you assume is another angry message, and you're just about to open it when he interjects. "and that starts with giving me your phone."

"that seems pretty suspicious…" you say, though you understand immediately why he does it. pepe knows you far too well already.

you reluctantly place your phone into the hand he holds out for you. "i promise to let you know if ollie or anyone on the team texts you. but i think you need to stay away from this for a while." he nods toward sebastian, whose eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "could you run out to get some kind of candy? anything that could work as poker chips is good enough."

"and i suppose that means my deck of cards is needed, too?" you ask, not able to hold back from smiling anymore at your friend's silly attempt to cheer you up.

"you bet."

call it childish, but your poker session really did serve its purpose. it ended up being the first time you've been able to properly relax and just have fun in months. it didn’t matter that none of you three got a lot of sleep – just getting to enjoy the moment was good enough.

however, the next day, it was all back to square one again.

the sprint race was indeed an overtaking party, as sebastian had suggested – but six overtakes from p20 is still not enough for any points, not even when about five drivers crash in the first lap. despite all that, you still had some hope for the feature; even more laps to work your way up the ranks and the possibility of having a good strategy were the only two thoughts on your mind.

but yet again, you left the race having scored exactly no points. and to your biggest annoyance, the winner was the one person you prayed would not get the win. one pretty much no one had expected.

just like spa last year in f3, paul was insanely lucky with his choice of strategy. with a perfectly timed late pit stop when the safety car came out, he came out in the front of the field on his new option tires. pretty much the entire field behind him had opted for the opposite strategy, which meant he soared away at the safety car restart and took the win quite easily.

at least, now the championship can't possibly get any worse, can it?

celebrations are always due when paul wins, and this weekend is no exception. you honestly wanted nothing more than to stay back in your hotel room and forget about the weekend even happening. but after some combined begging from ollie, pepe and jak, all saying something about how "you're no fun anymore" and "it's been so long since you partied with us", you finally gave in.

"and i promise, you won't be left alone for even a second," ollie whispers into your ear as he wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the door to the club of the night. "i'll be right here, and all of your other friends. okay?"

your answer comes in the form of a hum and a quick nod as the loud music floods all of your senses the second you step into the club. your boyfriend gives you a squeeze, just about to speak up again, when he spots pepe waving at you both from a table a few meters ahead.

"you actually made it!" he exclaims when you join him, reaching over to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting his hand drop to his side again. "and you look great. i was scared you'd show up wearing your race suit or pyjamas just as a form of protest."

"trust me, i wanted to," you tell him with a shrug. "but someone stopped me. said it wasn’t appropriate."

"what, i was just supposed to let you make a fool of yourself?" ollie scoffs from next to you. "isn't that why i'm your boyfriend? making sure you don't embarrass yourself in public?"

"of course, what else?" you say back without missing a beat, giving him a pat on the top of his head. you then turn to greet dennis, zak and gabriel, who are also standing by the table. the discussion around the table easily falls into a race debrief, before morphing into a debate about the f1 race of the night. but it doesn't take long until the group is split up, with pepe and gabriel deciding to go for a round of dancing on the dance floor, and dennis and zak both running off toward the bathrooms.

you have to confirm to ollie about five times that you indeed will be alright standing alone for a few moments as he walks the twenty meters away to the bar to get you both a drink before he actually goes away. the way he's treating you feels somewhat strange; like you're some kind of fragile glass sculpture, like even the slightest hint of turbulence will make you break.

but then again, maybe you've earned it. your recent months definitely haven't been making you any stronger, that's for sure.

you don't really mind it at first; the slight tipsiness you already feel from the shots dennis had ordered for the table and the throbbing bass from the random house song playing on the dance floor doing a good job at drowning out your thoughts. except, that's only until something out on the dance floor catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

paul has been gone all evening, busy celebrating his win probably, and your heart flutters momentarily at the sight of him out there. but when you turn your head towards him to take him in fully, your heart drops instead.

he's with someone. and not just anyone – a girl.

a girl who's got her arms draped around his neck, while his hands hold her hips close to him.

the smiles on their lips can be spotted from miles away, and you can hear the sweet sound of paul's laughter ringing in your ears when you see her lean in to whisper something in his ear.

who is she? what's she doing with her arms around him? why is she-

your thoughts all go silent when paul places a hand underneath her jaw, leans down, and gently presses his lips to hers. it's like the entire world goes silent; like everything else is just a blur of blinking lights, but the spotlight is on the couple on the dance floor. your eyes can't help but follow their lips, their hands caressing each other's bodies...

goosebumps spread across your skin in an instant and an eerie feeling passes through your body. you finally manage to pull your gaze off paul and the girl – who is she, anyway? – and you turn away, making a beeline to the restroom. thankfully, a woman exits through the door just as you arrive, and you're quick to lock yourself in.

once you're inside and pressing your back up against the wall, it's like everything that's been building up in you is let loose. the walls are broken down, and every thought and emotion you have comes crashing down onto you. rivers of tears are flowing down your cheeks before you can react, and you slide down the wall, knees coming up to your chest as your hands come up to cover your face.

there's this strong, heartbreaking feeling spreading through your chest. is it jealousy? is it disappointment? regret?

what you do know is that this aching feeling in your heart is stronger than ever.

is this how paul feels when he sees me with ollie?

it can't be, you think – it just can't. paul can't be in this much pain...

does this mean that you still love him? does this mean you still aren't over him?

you know you should be over him already. you've tried so hard, put so much energy into your relationship with ollie. and yet, you still feel like this.

it's not fair. not to you, and especially not to ollie. he cares about you, respects you, supports you – hell, he's probably out there right now looking for you and wanting to make sure you're okay. he really likes you, and he thinks you like him too. but here you are, crying about another man.

when you're all out of tears, you use your last piece of strength to push yourself up from the floor, standing up and leaning over the sink. wearing non-waterproof is both a blessing and a curse; the trails down your cheeks are straight out of a nightmare, but they're also easy to wash off with a little water and some paper towels. the redness in your eyes isn't as easy to erase, unfortunately, but it'll have to do. you hope to be able to blame it on being tired, or having too much to drink.

you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom and making your way towards the crowd on the dance floor again. the music is just as loud as it was before, and the crowd is just as sweaty and chaotic as a packed summer festival. thankfully, you don't see paul anywhere, but you find ollie quite easily. he's standing by a high table with gabriel and dennis when you approach, eyes lighting up when he spots you.

"there you are!" he exclaims, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "i've been looking for you–" ollie cuts himself off, his eyebrows furrowing a little. his voice lowers a few notches. "what's wrong?"

he noticed. in hindsight, how could he not? he's always been extremely attentive. "it's nothing, i..." you start, looking down at your feet. "i'm just exhausted from the day."

but he isn't stupid. he knows, he understands. even if he doesn't know who or what caused it, it's easy for him to tell that you've been crying. he nods, arm dropping from your shoulders to hold you around your back. "okay," he says, hand giving your waist a soft squeeze. "let's leave."

you look up at him again. the last thing you want is for him to have to cut his night short just for you. "no, i can go alone-"

"i don't mind. we came together, so we're leaving together." and before you can interject again, he's already said his goodbyes to the boys and pulled you along through the crowd.

the cab ride back to the hotel is mostly silent. you play the "exhausted" card, while ollie plays the "naive boyfriend" card. but just because you're both quiet doesn't mean your heads aren't absolutely buzzing. your mind is racing with the memory of paul's lips on that girl, kissing her and holding her like he used to kiss and hold you. but your thoughts are also clouded by the guilt you feel for being this much of a mess, and making yourself so unavailable to ollie.

ollie, on the other hand, isn't exactly rolling his thumbs, either. it takes his everything not to push you into telling him what's wrong; he wishes you would tell him because you want to, not because he's pressuring you. he's so worried about you, but at the same time, he hates the fact that you won't confide in him.

what's he doing wrong? why don't you trust him?

ollie is fast asleep next to you in your hotel bed when you pull out your dark blue journal from the bedside table.

the journal is not a secret from him anymore per se, but you still waited until this moment. the guilt of writing about another man when ollie is the one in bed with you is too big to face with his brown eyes looking up at you, so you'd rather do it like this.

yet another round of the championship, yet another bad weekend. no points, bad results as always – and that's not even the worst part.

paul was with another girl. someone i've never seen before. but he was acting like they were attached by the hip. like they've known each other forever. like i wasn't even there.

he must've known i would see. and yet, he had no issues kissing her like his life depended on it.

is it only this painful to see paul because we haven't spoken in weeks?

or is it going to be like this forever?

and just like in melbourne, there's one more thought that springs to your mind that you just can't find in yourself to write down.

i wish it were me.

yourusername just posted!

yourusername a weekend to forget, focusing on monaco instead. thanks for your support. ❤️ #foreversenna

show all 47 comments

user you did the best you could 💙

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user honestly what is she doing?

→ user bad results over and over even though the car is on fire, what even

→ user awkward

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user are she and ollie even a couple anymore?

→ user just because she doesn't post him, they've broken up? 🤨

→ user no no it's just because i've heard things... 😶

→ user omg pls tell me

→ user she'll delete the comment probably 🤪 but lemme dm you

[valyrfia]

i was thinking about the drivers who don’t have a wdc yet and are most likely to win one in the next 5 years with their current team and this is what i came up with re - their chances:

1. charles - i think his best chance to win his first is 2025. now inarguably, ferrari is the team which has the most left to gain from these set of regulations. they have made some absolutely stupid development choices and still they are pretty competitive? if the rumors are true and they are switching their suspension for next year, it should gear the car balance more towards charles and and that’s all he needs to win races consistently. and i don’t think lewis would instantly be comfortable enough in a new team to contend for the championship (i might be wrong) but charles is the ferrari man.

2. george - my intuition is that mercedes is going to nail the 2026 regulations. and purely that’s why george is probably winning the championship in 2026. he mostly won’t get intense competition from kimi until atleast his 3rd year in f1 just because he is still so young. and max is not leaving red bull before 2026 because switching teams before regulations change would be stupid.

3. lando - now this is where it gets interesting. maybe i don’t really like the guy too much but imo his best chance to win a wdc is 2024. mclaren have a significant pace advantage over the rest rn but it’s not going to stay that way. they will hit a development ceiling and teams will converge. and i think mclaren are going to implement team orders to help lando this year and just because oscar is still in his 2nd season and a little further away from lando in points, he will have to oblige. but this is mostly the last year lando will have that advantage over oscar and unless one of them switch teams, none of them are winning a wdc.

4. oscar - i see him winning a wdc after 2026. now i don’t know out of him and lando, who is leaving the team but i am sure one of them is going to red bull in the future.

i haven’t taken aston martin and newey into account here yet because there are just too many unknowns in that team right now. but somehow i have the feeling they are not going to cook as everyone is expecting them to.

sorry this is so long but i thought since you love hypotheticals you might have some thoughts on this!

I agree with this analysis! Ferrari haven't actually been that bad this time round with the regulations, and while I'm sure they're also looking to nail 2026, they've been vocal about aiming for 2025 with the arrival of Lewis. It will be interesting to see how Ferrari might handle Charles being the one with the championship charge considering their other driver is Lewis Hamilton though...they don't have the best track record with team orders as is.

I agree that Toto is putting all his willpower into the 2026 regulations, however I'm not sure this will mean Merc will win in 2026 necessarily, considering Ferrari are focusing on the same thing. I think Merc will jump back up the field again (since I would probably place as the 4th fastest car in this set of regulations). I also think there's a high possibility that politics at Merc will start to go bad, fast. Toto's made it clear that he wants Max, and if Kimi performs well George could be in real danger. I think Toto will be backing Kimi for WDC contention from 2026 onwards (hence why he wanted him in the car for 2025), so I unfortunately don't see George winning a WDC with Mercedes.

Lando is interesting, because I think there's a good chance that if he gets a WDC, he'll pull a Nico Rosberg and retire from F1 and focus on Quadrant and other pursuits. I get the feeling especially in the last year that F1 is bringing him far more grief than joy, and the massive backlash hasn't helped. I think this is his best year to win that WDC–Andrea Stella wants the future of McLaren to be Oscar and has made that quite clear, and I don't see them choosing him to be their championship contender in the future after this year just from the perspective of "well we tried that, it didn't work". If Lando doesn't win this year, I think he'll stick around for a few more years and maybe even move to Red Bull if Max moves to Mercedes, but I think this might be his clearest chance at the WDC. Especially if the rumours about team orders are true– if McLaren are front of the field again next year, they're giving Oscar priority. I actually DON'T think this is entirely fair–if a decision like this was to be made essentially trading off Lando's WDC chance next year, it needed to be made before the summer break since that points deficit to Max gets harder and harder to overcome with each passing race. But I agree, this is Lando's best shot at it.

Oscar might be a possibility for next year (again if the team orders rumours are true), but we've seen him not be able to beat Charles (who would likely be another title contender) for the last couple of races despite Charles being in a far worse car. So, I would think it's more likely that Oscar fights Charles for future titles once Charles has a WDC, or Oscar is fighting the Mercedes that is being built around Kimi Antonelli. I don't think Oscar will go to Red Bull purely because of Mark Webber–I think Lando is more likely at this point to get pushed out of McLaren.

I will add two things: first I don't think we need to worry about Aston and Newey. This is Newey's retirement project and while I can see Aston improving (and maybe even getting Fernando Alonso a race win), they won't be title contenders. Second, Max Verstappen is a wildcard still. Either he retires soon, or for all the talk of retirement when he was dominating, losing that top step has turned the hunt back on in him and he will want to fight for another WDC after 2024. I can see him moving to Mercedes, or if Lewis ends his Ferrari contract early (as I suspect he might), moving to Ferrari. Heavy on the Ferrari especially, considering Charles has said he'd have Max as a teammate, Fred is obviously deranged enough to go with two n1 drivers as a driver pairing, Max has a personal Michael Schumacher connection, and Ferrari have a history of wanting WDCs in their seats.

[scoobydoodean]

I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

[chillicoded]

Lando Norris is NOT an underdog.

This is NOT Lando hate. I don't endorse or tolerate hate towards ANY driver. This is just an opinion.

I had a conversation with somebody on Bumble about the Norris/Verstappen championship battle this season. I was for Verstappen, he was for Norris - no problem whatsoever in itself. After Max's absolute dominance last season, I really can't blame anyone for being bored of Max winning and wanting to see a new driver succeeding. But what Got My Goat is that he said the reason he wants Lando to win the WDC is because "he's an underdog". I sent a (pretty lengthy) message back on why I really don't think Lando qualifies as an underdog, and he never got back to me to defend his position. Maybe I scared him off, or maybe he just wasn't on Bumble to debate the nuances of what it means to be an underdog. Either way, I figured the topic would make a good first opinion post because I'm more likely to get a discussion out of it here, plus I have extra thoughts to add.

To me, an underdog is somebody who is disadvantaged because of the external resources available to them, in comparison to those they are competing against. For an F1 driver, that's the car, the team, the strategy, the experience they have in F1, the track (not just condition, but whether or not it suits their car) and momentary bursts of luck, among countless other variables. A good "underdog coming out on top" narrative comes from a person or character (in this case a driver) performing well or succeeding despite lacking the ideal resources to do so.

It's important to note that I don't think skill counts as an external resource. I also think skill is hard to measure. I personally would measure it in terms of results, consistency and versatility, but even within that, I feel like you need to take all of the external factors into account. For example, DNFing or dropping way back because of a collision, bad luck with the car or a botched pit stop would make a dent in a driver's consistency and results, but it doesn't mean they're less skilled.

Underdog narratives do exist in F1. The Alpine double podium in Brazil was a great underdog narrative. The Alpine car is hardly competitive most of the time. At the start of the season it was an absolute tractor. I don't know enough about the team, strategies, pit stops, etc. to comment on those, but regardless, I don't think anyone was expecting a double podium from them this season because Alpine just hasn't been competing at the front of the field. Yet, despite all that, both drivers finished on the podium and scored mad points in easily the most unpredictable race of the season.

Franco Colapinto performing well and scoring points, despite being dumped into Williams mid-season with a firmly midfield car and no experience, is also an underdog narrative. He's far outperformed Logan Sargeant already and has been battling with some of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and coming out on top. I don't think anyone was expecting all this from him when he was first brought into F1. Personally I saw a lot of people saying that they were booting out one underprepared F2 driver, and replacing him with another underprepared F2 driver. I was part of that crowd too. Sorry Franco. I was not familiar with your game.

Even Carlos Sainz's win at Singapore last year could be considered an underdog narrative. Sure, he started on pole and he's an experienced driver, but everyone was an underdog compared to Red Bull (mainly Max) last year, and Ferrari didn't have a great car or great strategies. He did have the luck of Max being practically out of sight, having been outqualified by Liam Lawson in an AlphaTauri (another great underdog moment, by the way), but it still takes skill to keep the lead, and his strategic use of Lando goes to show that even further than just the win itself.

These are just a few recent examples. Think about them. Seriously deep them. Revel in how they make you feel.

Now think about Lando's performance this season.

His first win in Miami was great. At the time, I was still a hardcore Lando supporter and I was absolutely thrilled. A few laps before the end of the race, when it became apparent that he was almost definitely going to win, I was already celebrating for him. It had been a long time coming and it was amazing to see him realising the potential I knew he and McLaren had. He's won twice more this season so far, and both times he was ahead by a country mile at the chequered flag. Aside from that first ever win, though, his other impressive performances this year haven't quite evoked the same emotion as my previous examples. That sense that he's overcoming disadvantages and delivering even when the odds are stacked against him just isn't there for me. Why is that?

There's no denying that he's a skilled driver. Three wins in a season with 7 different race winners (6 of whom have won multiple races) isn't too bad at all. He's also been relatively consistent throughout the year, never finishing a race outside the points. He's even been able to adapt to a range of tracks and weather conditions. For example, he finished P6 after the rain and chaos of Brazil, which threw off even some of the other skilled drivers mentioned above like Sainz and Colapinto.

But we're not here to discuss whether or not he's skilled. We're here to discuss whether or not he's an underdog.

Honestly, did you even read the title?

Anyway. Skill doesn't make someone an underdog. I established that earlier. If skill makes someone an underdog, Max Verstappen is probably the underest dog on the current grid, and that's obviously not the case. We need to look into those external factors I mentioned above: things like car, strategy, luck and experience, in comparison to what other drivers have had to work with this year. The less he has, the more of an underdog it makes him.

First and foremost, McLaren's strategies this year have been pretty abysmal. The terrible calls made in instances like the Hungarian Grand Prix and the lack of calls made in instances like Monza lap one have been enough to make me stop supporting McLaren as a team altogether. They insisted that they weren't prioritising the drivers' championship, but with the constructors' practically secured, I honestly find that hard to believe. If it is true, they've been doing a disservice to both drivers: to Lando by not giving proper attention to his very real championship chances, and to Oscar by ordering him to give up positions for Lando and act as a second driver at certain points, apparently for no real reason. Overall, McLaren's strategies have been in Lando's favour at times, but they've rarely been good. It's hard for me to compare McLaren's strategy calls to other teams, though, simply because I don't know enough about other teams' strategy calls. Maybe all the teams have been equally rubbish with strategy this year, so it technically hasn't been putting Lando at a disadvantage. I wouldn't know. If you have any insight on this, let me know and I might make a second, more definitive post about this.

As for luck, Lando has had bouts of both good luck and bad luck so far this year. He had some good luck in Miami, ultimately facilitating his first win, and he had some hard luck in Austria with his collision with Verstappen and Baku with qualifying. I'm not at all suggesting that Lando didn't deserve his first win (honestly, I don't believe that "deserving" matters in this sport at all), but I don't think he would've won that first race without the luck of the safety car, and I'm not sure he would've performed as well as he has without the confidence boost from that first win. With the car he's had this season (and I'll talk about that next), it would've come eventually, but I really do think that momentary burst of luck has been a really important factor in shaping this season for Lando. It has definitely had more of an effect than his moments of poor luck. I think few other lucky instances have had as much of an effect for a team or driver, except maybe Alpine's performance in Brazil.

His car has been a seriously influential factor, too. Of course, no driver's success is all because of the car; the driver and the car always go hand in hand. A less skilled driver can't properly handle a good car (see Pérez) and even a good driver can rarely drag performance that isn't there out of a tractor (see Bottas at Sauber). But, like his luck, the MCL38 has massively facilitated Lando's ability to perform this year. It's a car that has been capable of winning races by over twenty seconds, creating final laps that are reminiscent of Max's dominance last season. That alone begs the question, why has Lando not been performing consistently at that level? Where exactly does the balance of success lie between Lando and his car?

It's definitely worth taking into consideration that top teams this year have certainly given Lando a lot of competition to deal with this year. Even with a dominant car, with around six other drivers able to put up a fight against Lando, he's not in as dominant a position as Max was last year. But there is a difference in skill in certain areas, and it shows in moments like Lando's first lap bottles from pole compared to Max's perfect starts last year, for example. Lando is just not as polished a driver as some of his competitors, and that is something that naturally comes with more experience.

It's hard to say Lando lacks experience, though. 2024 is his fifth season in F1. He's not always had a great car, but now that he does have one, it's clear to see that he knows how to handle it decently well. Compared to Oscar Piastri, though, it doesn't look like his experience is giving him the competitive edge you'd expect. With four years of experience over his teammate, you'd think Lando would be performing at a much higher level, but that just isn't the case. As a quick example, Oscar's average finishing position this season is 4.9. Lando's is only 0.8 higher at 4.1. With that difference in experience, you'd expect a much higher gap in performance... or at least I would. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Let me know.

Overall, I really don't think Lando is at any kind of serious disadvantage that would make it fair to call him an underdog. He has issues thanks to McLaren's strategic blunders, sure, but the rest of his problems are pretty much skill issues. Call me back with the notion of an "underdog narrative" when Ollie Bearman is in the championship fight in a Haas next year.

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

rewatched most of True Detective season 1, episode 1 last night. minor thoughts, not in order, mostly for me to refer back to when I need it. memory of a memory and if I forgot it in like 20 hours, maybe it's not important anyway.

Marty really does go: me? oh normal regular dude. with a huge dick.

Marty, you've JUST met these guys. must they know about your dick.

Oh, Rust is so sad and wet. You know he's sad and wet. You remember that he's sad and wet. And then he's on screen and he's so much wetter and sadder than you remember.

Rust is not even waiting for a red light to pound his fuckin robitussin. my guy, you already specifically experience hallucinations. YOU ARE DRIVING. put down the DXM.

Rust is so funny, actually, in general. "Oh, I wouldn't bust anybody for hooking. OR DRUGS." [sends other girl away to buy drinks] SO. pills? you got pills? you got downers? pills?? <- first half is a quote and the rest is paraphrased but for real. man's here like. so. PILLS? yeah I'm workin. yeah there's a girl missing. medium breasts, natural. now about those pills--

Like, I remembered Rust as mostly functionally sober until the Crash episode, minus his Sophia grief drink binge, and that's just. That's so inaccurate of me. He's hot for it the instant we get him away from Marty.

Marty is actually initially pretty nice at the dinner, nice about Rust showing up while fucking trashed. He bitches Rust out for like a sentence and then reassesses. The cup of coffee, a little physical touching for anchoring, we'll try this again another time, etc.

And Rust is actually quite forthcoming here also--he outright apologizes.

Or, no. Rather:

It's Rust's being forthcoming that prompts Marty to turn nicer. Rust admitting that he doesn't drink because he's had trouble with it before. Explaining meeting a CI, being at the bar, "couldn't think of a good reason not to."

Which is a good example of how they work--they dance--they adjust to each other.

I always remember Rust as less communicative than he actually is. Because in large stretches, he isn't communicative even when he's talkative. But he's actually very forthright, when he chooses. Like, oddly forthright--no wonder Marty backs down immediately. How can you kick that sad wet man while he's down and apologizing to you?

thought for later--ways he is prideful vs the ways he is very much not.

I want to know more about the dead cats in universe, actually. are they black cats? are they being harvested for their bones. first inaccurate santeria mention here. I'm gonna count them all so I can bitch.

not devil traps, devil nets. i mean, nonsense either way. NOT SANTERIA. nor is Santeria incompatible with identifying as a good Christian--up until recently, any Santero you talked to would, in fact, identify as a good Christian and they'd mean it.

Rust never says "alright" or "all right." Rust strictly says aight. Those Ls are getting dropped, baby. I'm usually pretty good about this--was I paying too much attention to the captions? Either way. Not sure I'll go back and fix it, fic wise, but it's something to consider for future dialogue.

UNSURE if they drop their gs as often as I think they do. It took me ten years to learn to understand Southern and if I watch this show for too long, I forget that these dudes even have accents. It's like how if you put me in the panhandle for a week I start droppin' my gs and I can't even hear myself doing it. Not that I consistently pronounce my gs in any case, but usually I know if I'm doing it because it's one of those code switch-y things. can you take elocution lessons as an adult. askin for a friend.

People tend to discuss how Rust is playing Gilbough and Papania, but Marty is ABSOLUTELY performing a bit the whole time so far.

Speaking of Gilbough and Papania: Papania wants Rust to be the killer sooo bad. He's ready to fight Rust in the parking lot as is, no further questions asked.

Gilbough has such a nice smile, actually.

Rust's ties are so shittily tied. I know this is on purpose, it is a Look for the audience, it is a Characterization Choice, the way this man is undone, ramshackle except where he isn't, but I dated a lawyer for a long time so the loose tie is just. On one hand, it's a leash. Good. On the other hand, it's wrong and I know my fingers could fix it.

He does do it up nice for the press conference, however. He knows how. He just chooses not to.

Thinking about the dinner again. I like how lying comes so easily to Marty. He's clearly just so used to it. 

do we actually ever find out who burned the fuckin field in the very first opening shot. is that addressed? ever?

[warsamongthestars]

( image is taken from Wookiepedia; Rancor Battalion page )

Alright, these are three of the four known members of Rancor Battalion, stationed on Kamino. (As a battallion is a 1000 soldiers roughly, that means we've got several hundred implied to exist. These ones in particular are just the Commanders of the battalion )

Commander Havoc, is the far right in the Blue. Far Left? That's Commander Blitz

But the one in the middle is Commander Colt. You'll know him from Early TCWs, where he was the Commander who graded Domino Squad's performance on their graduation test of the Citadel, and as the poor bastard who got skewered and kissed by Asaaj Ventress.

Now the reason I'm bringing them up because they are CF99 related.

( CF99 "Clone Force 99". Unfortunately I cannae separate my views of the Bad Batch without immediately running into "The Bad Batch" TV Show... which I fucking hate. So this is a case of me just, trying [key word] to focus on the thing I love without having to deal with the published fanfiction about it [by too much], and maybe inspire some folks along the way as once again I scream "I FOUND A THING AGAIN" )

TCWshow is the origin show of the Bad Batch, and that's clear from the cut material of their season 6 arc. (Yes, it was meant to be season 6 in production order. What we got from released Season 6 were actually stuff made for Seasons 5 and Seasons 4 respectively )

That means, to find the backstory we need to move forward, we go through TCWs first.

Let's start.

Commander Colt, on the right, has a full one skull painted face and he primarily favors dark gray and deep red trim.

As we know, the jawless skull is a prime symbol of the Bad Batchers, and most of paint used by Colt are also used by CF99.

This suggests that Commander Colt was actually a prime, if not main, influence over the Bad Batcher's lives. Particularly, Hunter, who has clearly painted half a stylized skull on his helmet. While the CF99 skull is more stylized than Colt's--the Skull motif had to be inspired by something.

And since we're provided with no obvious alternative (and could probably fanfic plenty of alternatives instead)--the most clear connection here, in show, is with Commander Colt.

( This also helps the slow developed parallel between Domino Squad and CF99. Both are "bad batches", both were given a helping hand by Maintenance Clone 99, and were influenced by Commander Colt. Though its pretty obvious that Commander Colt had more hand with CF99 than Domino ever received. )

[ Side Tangent: This also means that the Bad Batch's association with Ventress is out of character and out of place. She murdered their favored Commander from cadethood, and assaulted him as he died via her kiss. ]

It should be noted that most of Rancor Battallion Commanders (nearly) all have gray faceplates, which makes the helmet appear to be or have a "skull".

This is Commander Havoc, wearing the Blue that was been adopted as 501st colors.

( Its pretty clear that Rancor Battalion does not, in fact, follow the paint cultures of deployed legions. They are either semi-following the now defuncted paint-rank system from "Attack of the Clones", or they have decided "Fuck it, we do what we want"... Either works, hell, both can work simultaneously )

The reason I bring Commander Havoc up, is that the CF99 ship is (was) known as the "Havoc Marauder". And it can be just as easily inferred that its not just the act of causing havoc and chaos, but that it was named in honor of Commander Havoc.

( This is, of course, mere speculation... But fuck it, its fun speculation.)

Commander Havoc's most significant story contributions, before being killed during the (third) Battle of Kamino, was defending 99; and that small contribution could've been enough to name a ship after him.

So y'know, more fun to be had.

ADDENDUM:

I know I did a whole a thing about Clone Names, and I'm still kinda confused but also find it really fun, about Commander Colt's name. Like, is he named after the horse? Are there horses in Star Wars? Is there an anime call a colt? Is the baby form of a rancor called a colt? Or is it the colt single action army revolver? I mean, star wars having combustible revolver weapons with projectiles and gunpowder wouldn't shock me... But Colt Revolvers are named after American Gun Manufacturer Samuel Colt. So uh, does--does this mean Mr. Colt was in Star Wars at some point? Is there a planet called Connecticut where he comes from. Maybe its the swedish origin of colt, which means "half grown animal" or "young boy". Is... Is Sweden in star wars. Is there a planet called Swedish. Its stuff like this, which both makes it both confusing and so fucking funny. Cos now we gotta ask some serious questions, that may or may not result in a parody. ( Name things what you want in your fantasy, so that it can absolutely result in confusing sets of questions like this. Simple Confusion is the best part. )

[storkmuffin]

KQ ffs figure this out better?!?? please please pleaaaaa-

So! In Korea KQ has been trying (and failing as far as I can tell) to promote the In Your Fantasy release by having this collaboration with a bakery chain, Our Bakery, which has about 20 total locations in Korea so far. The drinks (three types of iced tea) and the baked goods are color coded red and/or black to match the concept art.

The location that had the splashiest rollout was in 고척, which I think is near one of the Kpop performances venues, but that's really so far away from my house. Then, at random, I saw that the Our Bakery near my workplace in a mall that's been struggling lately was part of the promotion.

So I begged my BTS Army Friend and budding San bias to go with me on our lunch break to check it out.

KQ SUCKS AT TRYING TO MAKE MONEY. Why are they like this? I'm getting so irritated at the total failure.

First, there was no signage or indication on the outside of the shop whatsoever that they were doing a collaboration with anyone. You had to already know to go look for it, then go to the counter, where you saw this:

My friend does a lot of work with advertising and promotions, and she exploded. WHY DID THEY PRINT ATEEZ IN BLACK AGAINST A DARK RED BACKGROUND? she shouted. CAN ANYONE READ THIS? And um, you can't . So they are like, advertising that these red drinks and baked goods, which also look very off season during the super humid post-monsoon summer we're having, are about someone's fantasy but YOU CAN'T TELL IT'S FOR ATEEZ or that it's for an album.

So I asked the male barista what the red drinks were, because when they show three they mean there are three flavors, right?

He did not know. He ran away. Literally just, turned and ran. Someone else took over. I asked again what the drinks were. The female barista didn't know either, so she enlisted a third (another male) barista who got out a sheet of paper and read it out to me really fast - one of the drinks was pomegranate tea and the other two went by too fast to hear over my friend still shouting about THIS IS SUCH SHIT PROMOTIONAL PRINTOUT, WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS??

I asked where I could get the baked goods, and got pointed to this open fridge.

You had to actually open up the fridge and peer inside to find the teeny tiny photo that indicates which baked goods are the In Your Fantasy promo items.

I got my baked goods and some for my friend, and went back to the counter, where I asked the girl barista for photocards. She at least knew what they were. The male baristas looked over her shoulder, surreptitiously, as they were making other people's drinks, to see what she was getting me.

Getting Matz did make me feel calmer. Like, Mom and Dad are here, this is going to be fine. (I am certifiable at this point, help me).

As I was leaving with my treats and drink in hand, one of the male baristas called after me to be like, OH WE HAVE TO GIVE YOU A SPECIAL CUP.

Behold, my special cup. Because they didn't remember to give it to me at first.

So like, if by chance, someone who isn't already an Atiny in the market for a photocard comes into the bakery (and it was at full seating capacity) they will NOT KNOW that this is for Ateez, because THE SIGNAGE IS UNREADABLE. They will just think that Our Bakery is selling black and red desserts for some mysterious reason to do with "Fantasy." They'll have gone to the cafe, seen the posters, maybe asked about what the flavors are, maybe even bought the drinks and the treats, WITHOUT EVER HAVING HEARD OF ATEEZ because THE SIGNAGE IS TINY AND ILLEGIBLE.

HEADDESK.

I'd be crying if I wasn't full of sugar right now. Why are they like this? This must've cost time and money to put together, but the follow through is so horrendously bad. Why do it at all then?? Why not just save the money it took to do this?? KQ WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

[itsblasttothepast]

As Sergio's connoisseur, if you have to choose a team for him to be able to race this season, what are his chances? where do you think he could race?

Ah... you mean if I dream really hard? or realistically speaking?

If I dream really hard, I want him in any team Lewis is! I want them to be teammates so bad 🥹

If we talk realistically... none. For the 2025 season I think it's really hard he can get a place, leaving the fact that all the drivers are selected, we always have the mid season. But let me explain why I don't think we can get Checo in an F1 team for this year, team by team:

RedBull: No way they are letting Checo back, it would be admiting they screwed up; also the whole thing between them ended in bad terms (this according to the press and Marko), so obviously they won't even consider this option (it works both ways: RBR won't consider Checo and Checo won't consider RBR).

Ferrari and McLaren: Each team have a very solid pair of drivers, there's no possibility of anything bad happening. I know many think Lewis and Charles will create drama (like Vettel back when Charles started in Ferrari), but I there's no chance for a change of line-up.

Mercedes: Yes, people think Kimi is still a little green for F1, and probably will be changed after summer (I want to clarify that this is not what I want or believe will happen, just what I've seen others theorize); then Checo could be the one taking his place, but nope, Bottas will be the one taking charge, since he's the reserve driver and also has been on the team, he's family. If something happens with Kimi, Bottas would be the one in that seat.

Sauber and Williams: The same as McLaren and Ferrari. I doubt Bortoleto will do badly, he has potential, and besides Sauber is still a very troubled team, they're not expecting big results. Williams could be the surprise though, Carlos always improves the teams he joins, and if for some reason Albon has to be replaced (I hope not), Franco Colapinto is the one taking that place.

Haas: Esteban is a solid driver, and Ollie has done a good job so far, so I think they'll work well and don't have many problems that imply replacing a driver.

Alpine: This is the most sounded rumor lately, particularly for the other rumor of Jack Doohan only having a contract for certain number of races; Alpine needs money, Checo has a lot of sponsors... but I don't think it will happen, Doohan would have to perform really bad, and since it's Alpine... what's the standard there?

Aston Martin: Here it could be as a reserve driver, like Nico Hulkenberg was back in 2021. But Alonso and Stroll are solid this year, the only way Checo could join is as a reserve, and so far there has been not even rumors about it.

Also, something that called my attention was Bottas winks at Cadillac for a F1 seat (before Checo left RBR), and now he said that if the F1 seat doesn't come through, he's going to Indy. So maybe there's something there about the Checo seat in Cadillac for 2026.

Sorry about the long rant anon, but I don't think we'll see Checo in F1 this year. Maybe in WEC if everything goes as the rumors say.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Okay, with Phase Five of the Multiverse Saga DONE, here's the obligatory ranking...

Secret Invasion is at the very BOTTOM of the list, no doubt about it. It looked interesting in the first episode, but quickly lost its momentum as it became a BORING slag to watch with the WORST CGI a Marvel TV show had and the WORST finale any of these bullshit shows had. This is the absolute bottom of the barrel, right there with Iron Fist and Inhumans as a show I do NOT want to see again. I'm not kidding.

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania's biggest problem is its consistency. It's trying to be this SUPERHERO EPIC, with great battles and threatening villain that our heroes just can't seem to stop...And also an Ant-Man movie with goofy humor and silly characters. Honestly, if it chose to be one or the other, this movie wouldn't be so bad. Just cut out most of the jokes and have this be a serious showdown with the MCU's new (And quickly forgotten) big bad, Kang. Or, alternatively, cut out KANG and make it a lowstakes movie where Scott teaches Cassie to be a great hero as they face off against MODOK. Either option would have worked well, but because the movie tried to be BOTH, it ended up falling short in the process. It also doesn't help that the best thing about the movie, Kang himself, is tainted by the actor being a not great person. Overall, I don't hate the movie as much as everyone else did, but I can't really call it GOOD.

Captain America: Brave New World is the most OK movie the MCU has ever had...and that kind of makes me hate it a little more, BECAUSE IT DIDN'T NEED TO BE! This is a movie that could have been the BOLDEST film Marvel could have ever produced in this year alone. It's a movie where the president turns into a giant, red rage monster who could have burned the whole world down, all while being guided by his tech-bro "super genius" to get the position he has in the first place. THE UNIVERSE SERVED THIS FILM WITH THE BIGGEST POLITICAL STATEMENT OF THE CENTURY ON A SILVER PLATTER...And it did NOTHING with it! It's actually FRUSTRATING how scared this movie is to make a SINGLE claim about ANYTHING. It gets so PAINFULLY close to doing so, yet it feels like some Disney executive is holding a gun to the film's head and DARING it to make those connections. I mean, does it still have some epic fight scenes and some solid performances? Yeah, it does, but so does a LOT of MCU movies. This one doesn't offer much outside of that, despite how CLOSE it does to doing so. I WANT to like movie more, it IS awesome to see Sam Wilson as Captain America fighting the mother fucking Red Hulk of all things, but it doesn't offer ENOUGH substance. It TRIES, but trying isn't enough at times.

Echo...is a show I keep forgetting exists and that's not great for it. I respect the attempt to bring more mature story telling to the MCU again, and it was actually cool to see someone gruesomely bleeding out for the first time in years...as sick and twisted as that sounds. But as far as this show goes, it also doesn't go far ENOUGH, as its big climax is this...sort of BS about seeing the good inside someone foul (Really glad Daredevil backpedaled on that idea...). Also, there's the fact that the show made a big change in adapting Echo by giving her the powers to have the same abilities and strengths of her ancestors as they echo through her. Cool idea on paper, I guess, but I went over this with Ms. Marvel: If you change the heroes' powers, you might as well make them a new superhero. It doesn't help that the showrunner/director/WHOEVER said that the reason for this change was because they didn't think Echo's comic accurate powers were COOL enough, so they decided to give her this mystic nonsense instead. And I don't think anyone really care for it...Or maybe they did? I don't know, this show flew under the radar and I haven't heard anyone talk about it since. And it came out a YEAR ago! We forgot a show that's over year old, people!

What If...? Seasons Two and Three might as well be lumped together, and I will forever stand on the hill that says they're NOT the worst thing the MCU has put out. Only weirdos who have this intense hatred towards Captain Carter (for reasons that boggle my mind). We have Secret Invasion RIGHT THERE, a show so lazy it relied on an AI Generated intro, yet you'll see people SHAME What If...? for being...I guess not living up to expectations? People were expecting HIGH concept adventures and FASCINATING new universes that the MCU could never explore. Only to get a show with twenty-six episodes of dumb fun that's the equivalent of someone mashing their action figures together. And, truth be told, I'm fine with it being the ladder. Don't get me wrong, I would LOVE the high concept adventures, but this is a series where you get to see Iron Man go on a drag race with The Grand Master and see Howard the Duck fight every big bad in the MCU to protect his surprisingly powerful egg. Oh, and also watch the big buff lady kill nazis and body slam beings of pure infinity. That's either your cup of tea or it isn't, but it surely was mine. I enjoyed a lot of it, and I will never understand the hatred it got. It's NOT that bad, it's just...fun. Nothing more.

Ironheart is a show that exists. There, I said the thing. And truly...it's accurate. I have nothing more to say about the majority of this show other than it being something that...exists. Is it fun? Sometimes. I guess it's kind of cool to see Iron Man-like action again after a good few years without it. Though, that comes with the fact that the CGI isn't always the best at times. When it's good, it's like movie levels of quality. When it's not, it's like watching a Red vs Blue CGI shot, cheap-looking and very out of place. As for the characters, they're also fine? I guess? Weirdly enough, I find every character fascinating...except for the titular Ironheart. There are too many lines that TELL us how great and brilliant Riri Williams is, but never enough scenes that SHOW us. I mean, the girl BIT INTO live wire and would eventually make a deal with a clearly evil man and that same man's little bitch. She's not exactly BRILLIANT, and I think it says a lot where I am WAY more invested in the identity crisis her AI is going through more than Riri trying to find herself. Not to mention the show suddenly throws in some magic bullshit that is WAY too jarring to just take in for six episode season. A lot of it really wasn't hitting for me...until those last two episodes. THAT is when things get really fun, fascinating, AND engaging. We're not only introduced to a character fans have been hoping to see since WandaVision, but the show also ends on a cliffhanger that REALLY makes me hopeful for a season two. Or, at the very least, a continuation at SOME point before the universe soft reboots itself if those rumors about Secret Wars are true. We'll see what happens when it happens, but for now I'll say that I don't entirely mind this show. The last third of it was REALLY amazing, even if the first two thirds could use a little more polish...And a LOT more time for the CGI (I really hope those animators weren't killing themselves with this one...)

The Marvels is...fun. It's not SUBSTANTIAL, but it's got a lot of fun moments with solid chemistry between the cast and some pretty cool fight scenes. It's one of those movies you put on if you just want something to kill the time...Basically, it's an airplane movie, but I'm fine with that. Not every MCU film needs to be a masterpiece that reinvents the wheel, it just needs to be OK at worst, and that really is The Marvels. At its worst, it's just...OK.

Oh, Deadpool and Wolverine, weirdos on Twitter could NEVER make me hate you. Are you the very best the MCU has to offer? Not even close. Your story is messy and your themes could use a bit more polish. But are you a super fun, mildly hilarious, and wonderfully awesome movie that I don't really see myself getting sick of. This is the movie that has Ryan Reynolds as his most Deadpooliest and Hugh Jackman arguably at his most Wolveriniest. It is so much fun seeing these two interact and bounce off each other, while still giving it their all to make sure the humor and serious moments are as effective as possible. Jackman may not top his performance in Logan, it's still so much fun seeing him cuss, kill, and drink for a big final ride with Reynolds' Deadpool, all with a comic accurate suit for the first time in twenty fuckin' years. It's awesome, mildly rewatchable, and some good comic book fun that I will not get over. Some may have moved on, but I'm sure as hell not ready to get off the ride this movie consistently offers.

I. Was. NOT expecting to like Agatha All Along as much as I did, but holy SHIT was it good! Not OUTSTANDING, mind you, but still a really well-performed, strongly written, and surprisingly compelling mini-series that acts as a spiritual second season to WandaVision. We watch as Agatha Harkness and her Coven of Chaos travel a world of insanity and try to survive to get what they all desire. What follows is a fun enough adventure that's often delightfully dark with characters I can't help but admire. There's this one character who has what's best described as reverse Alzheimers as her oracle magic leads to her mind constantly drifting to the FUTURE instead of the past. That is just ONE of the brilliant ideas that Agatha All Along has, and that's not getting into the two big twists at the end. I'm not kidding when I said I was IMMENSELY impressed by both, more so about how the show reveals it really WAS Agatha all along. I'm NOT going to explain HOW that makes sense, trust me when I say it's for the best to see it for yourself as it's up there as one of the best twists an MCU project has had. Even if the finale itself floundered a bit past that major reveal. Still, solid ending to a surprisingly solid show.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man Season One is part of the Multiverse Saga. Disney+ says so. Fuck you. And also FUCK ME for having doubts in this...Okay, the doubts were warranted with a bad trailer, choppy animation, and a leading actor who I HOPE gets replaced by Season Two. Not a lot of hope to work with when going into this series, and those supremely low expectations is what hurt my enjoyment going into the first episode. I saw nothing but faults through most of that first episode, thinking it was going to be exactly what people who HATE MCU Spider-Man THINK MCU Spider-Man is like. The cracks showed immediately...but then we got to that final few minutes that showed us MORE the direction this show was going to go in. And from there, the show got better and better with every episode, making it feel like a show that lines up more with what Spider-Man fans WANTED the MCU to do with the character. We have great drama, a compelling cast of side-characters, and the slow burn of seeing some of Spidey's iconic foes becoming the sinister threats we know and love. In some cases, with characters like Lonnie, it's tragic, seeing someone GOOD go down a darker path. It's surprisingly compelling stuff with scenes that kind of make me wish that THIS is what MCU Spider-Man was like from the start. It's filled to the brim with some pretty clever writing, including this one twist to Spider-Man's mantra that hit me RIGHT in the SOUL. Like, HOLY SHIT, what was said and WHO said it was a case of brilliance that I will NOT get over. This is another one of those Spider-Man projects that has fans PRAISING it nonstop and telling others it gets the character better than anything that came before. And...things MIGHT be hyperbolic at this point, as Season Two can easily change that the second it makes ONE decision fans hate. Plus, as great as everything is, it is often held back by shoddy animation and sometimes the restraint to make this an alternate timeline in the MCU CAN get in the way. Still, as a Spider-Man fan, I found myself loving the hell out of this first season way more than I thought I did. If you're not hooked in immediately, stick it with it. Trust me when I say it is WORTH it.

Daredevil: Born Again is NOT Daredevil Season Four. That is a harsh truth that people need to understand as this is NOT a direct continuation that matches the highs and lows of the original series. Instead...it's more like Daredevil comic run ended and Marvel switched writers and artists for a new one, trying to match what made the work of the last team good while still making it their own story with its own identity. That being said, though, while Born Again never matches the high of Daredevil Seasons One and Three, it is still a GREAT season of television. This is a season that shows all you need are great actors to give performances that can take even the most mediocre writing and ideas and turn them into GOLD. Every actor in this is giving it their all, with the ones from the original series feeling like they've never left the roles they played for four years. And while it IS a little obvious that the show is a Frankenstien monster of a new cast and crew trying to rework a HORRIBLE first draft, what they make is still really great with strong performances and some amazing action that, at times, rivals the original with its intensity and violence. Daredevil's first fight with Bullseye was the perfect return to form to draw audiences in, with the rest of the season...admittedly taking a while to match that same greatness. But when it does hit, it really fucking hits, with those last two episodes being the strongest of the season and giving high hopes in Season Two being even BETTER. Plus, everything else isn't entirely without merits. Kingpin treating his duties as Mayor the same as his job as THE Kingpin is a brilliant idea and that bank heist episode still remains one my favorite episodes due to how good it felt seeing old school superhero shit again. People act like the last two episodes are the ONLY parts of the show that are good, but I disagree. The rest of the season IS great due to its direction and performances. It never reaches the same level of perfection, but for a starting season to bring back the character and his dark stories, it's not too bad. I look forward to season two, and all the bloody mayhem that will surely follow.

Thunderbolts* was the movie that restored faith in a lot fans in the MCU. I think it's just...pretty good. It has a solid script, incredible action, a fun cast with great chemistry, decently handled themes about depression and suicidal ideation (YES, really), and a fair mix of humor and heart that feels perfectly balanced. In other words, it's...an average MCU movie, BUT a good one. REALLY good, I can't stress that enough. For a lot of fans, it felt like watching the MCU at its best and brightest again, taking characters no one really cared much about and making them EVERYONE'S favorites. Only instead of ripping comic characters and giving them a coat of fresh paint, Thunderbolts* takes MCU characters and gives them a better chance to shine brighter than they did upon their introductions. I have seen so many people give more of a shit towards Red Guardian here than they ever did in Black Widow, and that's the power of this movie. It dared to ask fans to CARE about what's basically the scraps of the MCU, and it did it well. Fans LOVED this film and these characters, but I feel like all this hype Thunderbolts* got is because...it's been too long since fans saw a GOOD MCU movie project like this? I mean, we've had a lot of good ones, three in particular that rank HIGHER, but things HAVE been inconsistent for a while. Thunderbolts* just happened to have the right amount of sauce at the right time, and fans aren't willing to give up on how...GOOD it is yet. I mean, they might after a while (They always do), but for the time being, this DOES feel like a film that's worth its praise. It's everything that's fun about the MCU with the tiniest bit of substance to make you appreciate it all the more.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3 is definitely going to be up there as one of the best in the MCU, not just in the Multiverse Saga. It's highly emotional, actually FUNNY, and a perfect final swan song for all of these characters and James Gunn's inclusion to the franchise before peacing out to fix DC (Don't let me down, Superman...). I'm SO glad that this wasn't a rushed job made out to make a deadline, as it really feels like a movie people wanted to get RIGHT, and they succeeded in spades. I mean, it made us cry over a talking CGI raccoon. COME ON!

Loki Season Two was the show that renewed my faith in the MCU after Secret Invasion downright squashed it into peaces. I was about ready to call it quits after that absolute MESS of a mini-series, but was willing to give Loki Season Two a chance because, well, I liked the first season and was hopeful for the second to at least be just as good. And it wasn't...it was BETTER, introducing more fun characters, getting into even WACKIER nonsense with time travel and multiverse shenanigans, and somehow having even STRONGER emotions. That ending--That FINALE--remains as the only time this saga has given me CHILLS that match the ending of Infinity War. It's beautiful as it is tragic, and don't you DARE think I'm going to spoil it. It is THAT good.

X-Men '97 Season One is ALSO in the Multivers Saga, according to Disney+, so you better BELIEVE it counts! And good thing too, HOLY SHIT is X-Men '97 awesome! Controversies involving the showrunner aside, this was the show that made me think, "Oh, that's RIGHT! The X-Men are COOL!" After the FoX-Men movies that focussed more on making Wolverine awesome, and ONLY Wolverine, I knew X-Men '97 was on the right track the second they made Scott Cyclops Summers have the coolest opening fight scene imaginable. And the momentum from that just never stopped as we got some INCREDIBLE action, some heart clenching tragedy between these characters and their relationships, and some LARGER THAN LIFE scenes that can only be conveyed through animation. The best part being that all of this happens in ONE season! One season alone, and this show already feels like a modern Marvel Masterpiece! Now, Seasons Two and Three CAN change that, especially with What If showrunner replacing this show's due to...valid reasons (That Rogue and Magneto subplot feels so uncomfortable now...). For now, though, I'll take this super epic and emotional first season for all it's worth.

All in all, this is definitely a MUCH better phase than Phase Four. Phase Five has much higher highs, even the lows are almost unforgivable at times. It really feels like everyone involved has heard the critiques the MCU has been getting the last few years and are trying to do better. Sometimes they succeed, other times they almost miss the mark, but when things work, they REALLY work. Let's just hope that Phase Six ends this MESS with a bang instead of a whimper...

[blueikeproductions]

So next month, EarthSpark is returning for its (most likely) final batch on Paramount+.

The plan so far is it premiers October 25th.

It’s labeled “S3”, but realistically it’s just the next round of the second season. What it involves is anyone’s guess, because the old planning document that was leaked that first revealed CyberWorld has only confused things.

The EarthSpark toys are on clearance and being phased out. Those unsold, dust collecting Cyber Combiners are going to Ollies before long, and the Chaos Terrans aren’t even on shelves here. The Legacy toys are mostly gone too, the TF section is nearly all TFONE and a modest Studio Series selection.

There’s no conceivable way a series that tanked on streaming is getting specials during the successor’s tenure. If that’s how it worked, Animated would’ve gotten a special that tied up loose ends when Prime was on.

The only thing we’re probably getting is Prowl, and maybe Mirage since he was plastered on the leaked document. Considering how poorly handled ES’s (and CV’s since they share staff) ideas were, I don’t have high hopes the Quintesson and Decepticon plot will be handled well to close out ES. Modern shows have a bad habit of butterfly chasing, one idea that has potential to be fleshed out is abandoned on a whim in favor of a spur of the moment idea that isn’t much better. Entertainment in general also tends to learn the wrong lessons, like the awkward lesson taken from Lightyear is the gay kiss was the problem, so let’s just not do gay stuff at all. The gay kiss didn’t help matters due to international cultures unfortunately and the loudest grifters MADE it the problem, when Lightyear and Strange World’s problems were weak story and weaker concepts. To Strange World’s credit, it’d be a perfect Kingdom Hearts level for Sora, Donald and Goofy to run around in and the world turtle’s virus can easily be made into Heartless. Whether they’ll include in Kingdom Hearts, I dunno.

Anyway my point is, after Aligned, Transformers cartoons have all suffered bad writing and characterization: Cyberverse (said by the creators to be made for and by the fans “inbetween” which translated into Twitter IDW canon), War For Cybertron (so bleak, so overacted, so poorly acted, a downgrade in animation as it’s the same studio that made Prime, written so suffocatingly serious, it’s the 13 year old edgelord’s wet dream we grew out of), Prime Wars (oh god that was so bad, they got Peter Cullen and Mark Hamill to save face, and they instead fell flat on their faces), BotBots (the very belated response to Teen Titans Go! and Shopkins) and EarthSpark (a well meaning show using Rescue Bots’ concepts as a spring board, but refused to let go of IDW’s bad ideas, and used “DEI” as a selling point in an era where its slowly dying out.).

The movies were trying to improve, as Bumblebee and RotB are looked in more fondly by TF fans, they got (what hard cores claim) was the appeal of TFs over the Bay trilogy. And now we’re at TFONE, the film that “finally” got it right, but no one went to see.

So where are we at.

With TFONE, most news outlets agree it’s a good movie, but with its abysmal box office performance starting out, it’s not looking like that’s gonna improve, with the newsies saying the Transformers are out of gas. Or is that Energon?

In a way they’re not wrong. It’s been reported Transformers is on a decline, and with the cartoons and toys not doing well either, we’re back to the end of G2, where things aren’t looking good. The difference is we don’t have the flash in a pan miracle that was Hasbro, Kenner and Mainframe making Beast Wars and later the same thing happening with the first Micheal Bay film.

We have been long overdue for a similar kick in the pants, and I think it’s clear Hasbro wanted TFONE to be that, but alas, it’s not despite the good will.

The only kick so far are the Skybound Energon Universe series. They’re doing, as of typing, phenomenally, with the Transformers book being a decent mix of 80’s G1 Movie, Prime, and Bayformers, written and drawn in a way only the people that created Walking Dead and Invincible can do.

The other good will was the Trigger animated 40th Anniversary short.

Skybound and Trigger are the only things people were on board with. Let that sink in.

Trigger also contributed a poster for the Japanese release of TFONE.

So maybe that’s a sign they’ll be allowed to do more official things going forward. Which I think is a good thing.

TFOne is a good movie, but due to Hasbro’s and Paramount’s own indecision on what to do with the movies, and their increasingly dubious canon, we’re stuck with what is officially declared its own thing separate from Bay, though it’s pretty apparent someone internal had to show Lorenzo how irreconcilable ONE was with ROTF & DOTM because The Fallen & Sentinel Prime can’t be villains of both died horribly back on Cybertron. However, the Bayformers series is still very popular among casual fans and audiences. Universal wouldn’t still have its own Bay themed Transformers attraction with the delightfully snarky Movie Megatron if it wasn’t.

So here lies the issues. The movies. Pretty much after TLK, they’ve done poorly in theaters despite their nostalgic popularity. Notably, RotB does really well on streaming, as it did well on P+ and Netflix (in other counties, it’s not on the American one yet). The Garfield Movie is currently #1 on Netflix after having a weak but successful box office. And with preorders now open for home video, ONE walks a slippery slope of everyone agreeing this is the good movie, but no one cares enough to pay money to see it in theaters. It will probably do gangbusters on streaming, going by trends, so that’s probably the best shot it has, as apparently good word of mouth isn’t enough.

It’s not helped there’s continued confusion among casuals if TFONE is a prequel to the Bay films, and it sounds like in very early development it was leaning that way, but the differing designs, and the trailers making the film look more kiddy than Bayhem, was among the turn offs. Like how does it make sense the Transformers started out as more cartoony G1 designs but overtime evolved into the shredded metal Bionicle style. No cartoon had convincingly explained a style shift that drastic.

It was said that if TFONE did well, Hasbro would use that as the basis of future material. Well with its lukewarm performance, there’s no financial incentive to do so, but the general positivity from people about Optimus and Megatron’s blue collar years and the greatly simplified Cog and Cogless system could work in its favor anyway.

There’s still, as of typing, plans to continue with a sequel to TFONE, and while it’s still unknown if Cyberworld will borrow the Worker-Bot backstory for its Optimus… and Galvatron(?), there’s a chance it might for some brand synergy.

We’re at a fork in the road now that One has underperformed and Skybound is the only thing keeping the interest going. CyberWorld has to do what Cyberverse and EarthSpark couldn’t do and attract fresh kids to get into Transformers. Fans think they’re the only ones that matter, but it’s clear with One just appealing to us doesn’t work we need new blood. Just maintaining isn’t enough anymore. Skybound found a way, now we just need to see if CyberWorld can do so too.