was rewatching some of s4 while ao3 was finicky last night and I’m still thinking about the nuance that got added to Carlos’ character and how the few hints dropped in earlier seasons—not telling his parents about TK or ever talking to them about anything regarding his sexuality or how he didn’t tell them about the break up or how he bought the loft without telling TK—fit so in line with this fundamentally rooted trauma response that was emphasized in s4 and how he has trouble telling people in his life big things that may make him seem less than perfect because he spent years and years and YEARS trying to fit into a box and repressing pieces of himself and now he’s safe and loved in so many ways but it’s ingrained in his mind to hide and to keep that to himself because that’s how he thought he had to live to be accepted and it’s not a great trait to have, it’s messy and can be hurtful but given what we’ve learned about his past, it feels so necessary almost? that he didn’t come out unscathed from all of that. that it lingers with him though his life is so different now because that’s what trauma does and it takes time and effort to heal
and he’s flawed now more that he ever was. but so is TK. so is everyone on this show. so are real people. and Carlos went from this character whose sole purpose was to be TK’s hot love interest and Michelle’s helper and now he’s this big beautiful character with his own issues who gets so much love and support from the people in his life just as he has given in return for three years and I never would’ve expected this watching s1 live but wow what a journey it has been to see this character unfold
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Ravikumar Jet | Somewhere Over SimDonia
Jennifer: Okay, so Rose does Ballet, right?
Gianni: No, that's Ella.
Jennifer: Ugh, why can't I get this right?
Gianni: You should've been researching me with your mom.
Jennifer: Funny. I don't think that would've been a good idea if I wanted to keep dating you.
Gianni: Ouch. I'm just kidding. Jeez, relax! Everything is going to be fine.
Jennifer: Easy for you to say! You didn't have to do a whole background check just to meet my family.
Gianni: Uh...
Jennifer: My mom's amateur detective snooping doesn't count. She can barely work Simstagram... I had to submit paperwork to come here! Your family is royal!
Gianni: Yeah, but they're like cool about it. Trust me they are going to love you.
Jennifer: And why are you so sure?
Gianni: Because you're someone that I'm bringing home for one. That obviously means something. For two? Because you're awesome and sweet and funny. There's nothing not to like.
Jennifer sighs: Thanks, I'll try to remember that I guess.
Gianni: Trust me, they're going to just be excited I'm bringing a girl with me. You being the best girl ever will just be icing on the cake. My sisters are going to try to make you like them more than me, Emmitt's going to go out of his way to make you comfortable at the palace, my brother and his fiancé are deep in wedding shit, but they are literally the nicest people.
Jennifer: And you're mom?
Gianni: Uh... my mom? Well... she's fine.
Jennifer: That's it? Just fine?
Gianni: She can be... kind of difficult, but usually only if you rub her the wrong way. Which you won't so I wouldn't worry about it.
Jennifer: Okay... gosh. This is so unlike me to be nervous about this kind of thing. I don't know what's wrong with me.
Gianni: I guess you just really want to impress the guy you like's parents. Probably because you like him soooooo much.
Jennifer tries not to laugh: No, that's probably not it.
Gianni: I get it. I'm pretty great. Man, you're lucky to have me.
Jennifer teases: Oh my, Watcher. Sooo lucky.
Gianni: There's my girlfriend.
Jennifer: You're so...
Gianni: Charming? Funny? Handsome?
Jennifer: I was going to say insufferable. But I guess you're those other things, too.
Gianni: And that's why you're on this plane flying to another country for a practical stranger's wedding.
Jennifer: Yeah, this is crazy... I'm excited, though. I've never been to SimDonia.
Gianni: It's fine, I guess. I never really get the tourist experience when I'm there.
Jennifer: Oooh, we should go do some touristy things.
Gianni: Sure. We might have some downtime when my mom isn't breathing down our necks about, I don't know, flowers and shit. Do you feel any better?
Jennifer smiles: I do. Thank you.
Gianni smiles: Of course. Thanks for coming with me.
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Every time I see the English translation of a certain Clear Card panel with Touyuki appearing on my TL I want to pull my hair because that line was mistranslated so, so badly and people are making speculations and going nuts about it in the tags and it's all based on something that doesn't exists because that's not what Touya says, not at all. Like, not even remotely. It's also so out of character for him to say something like that, I don't know how his fans don't realize something is off in that line.
One day I will compile those translation mistakes in one giant google sheet or something, I need to turn this into a mission because it's honestly so irritating to see how riddled with mistakes this localization is, sometimes to the point of messing with important parts of the plot. I don't see them releasing a decently translated edition in the near future, so it's all I can do to give back some respect to the story. Clamp are aware of the translation mistakes and how they change the perception of the story for the foreign readers, just as they are aware of the posts I've made about them over the years (they talked about this in a Space long time ago, and I still cherish that mention in my heart with pride). But there was basically nothing they could do at the time, if not suggesting the English readers to check the posts mentioning the translation differences. That's great and all, I'm glad I have their blessing but this is also not really how ideally one should read a story. My posts are long and filled with personal comments and maybe that would deter many people from checking out what a certain line actually says, so I need to find a quicker and easier way. Also, I started to do those only from chapter 40 onwards (and in the beginning I was way overzealous, I would need to revise) and this panel I'm mentioning above is part of the butchery they did in the first volumes, which weren't covered by my posts yet.
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Unnamed 'No Roses On Your Bones' Sequel - opening pitch
Caroline’s phone pinged loudly as she was leaving work around 1 AM, tired and sore from ensuring the reception dinner for a local politician’s son’s wedding went smoothly. It could have been more of a nightmare than it had been–the parents of the groom were, true to type, a giant disaster waiting for a place to happen–but the actual couple had been lovely and clearly smiling for pictures while waiting for it to be time to bolt for the Bahamas for two weeks. At least Caroline could help the pair out by finding social situations for the parents to solve periodically, thereby pulling them away for a few minutes. It was a juggling act, but Caroline was very good at her job.
Sticky and hot in the muggy July air, the air was practically dead in the underground employee parking lot of The Drake Hotel. Fishing her phone out of her purse, she waved a hand at the security guard in her booth when she passed by. As she walked to her car parked not that far away, she thumbed through her notifications, keeping an eye out around her just in case. Kol had put out a new video, better save that for tomorrow morning. Bekah’s Story said she was at a party at Tao Chicago nightclub, which might be true, but when Caroline had asked her if she wanted to stop by for dinner on her break, she’d said she had to work tonight.
The newest notification was a text from Klaus. Before she could read it, she stuffed her phone into her bra as she unlocked her car and opened the door, tossed her purse in on the passenger seat, and got in. Palming the door locks as she started the car, she sat for a second while the Bluetooth linked up and her music playlist started up over the speakers. Then she pulled out her phone and opened his message. When she read it, she immediately huffed, typing out her own message.
Caroline paused a moment before pointing out that you basically have to commit murder or sign over your firstborn for those tickets this late into the season. Right, she was talking to Klaus.
Squinting at the screen, Caroline tapped her finger against the side of her phone, thinking. This man held too many cards. Dropping her phone in her cupholder, Caroline tapped the car's touch screen of her contacts until Klaus' name came up. When the sound system started ringing, she pulled out of the parking spot.
"Hello, love," As was often the case when Klaus picked up, his voice sounded like this was the best part of his day.
"I have some conditions," Caroline said as she weaved through the underground parking lot.
She could hear him grinning. "Of course you do." There was a pause. "You're not driving, are you?"
Huffing, she pulled up to the exit and waited while the security bar lifted to let her car out to the street. "Excuse you, glass houses? Those who text and drive do not get to throw stones."
His voice filled with disgruntled pique. "If my insurance agent can't prove I did it, I don't think you should be able to hold it against me."
"Harassment-free technicalities don't include insurance fraud, Klaus." Her way was clear and she pulled out into the street. At this time of night, the streets were free of anything resembling traffic, and it wouldn’t take too long to get back to her apartment. Normally she took the L during the day since there was a stop near her apartment, but the last two times she’d taken the elevated train that ran through most of Chicago at night, she’d been not-so-discretely followed by one of the guys she had one-hundred-percent seen playing bouncer at one of the doors of a Mikaelson underground casino. Which sibling was being an over-protective weirdo might have been a guessing game, if she wasn’t fully aware that exactly one of them had a mysteriously accurate bead on her schedule.
“Perhaps they should? If you’d only spoken to my secretary after your last accident–”
“Zzzt!” Caroline shushed him with one hand, despite him being unable to see it. “That was a tiny little fender bender, hardly worth Dana’s time. I’m saving my descent into villainy for something really worth it.”
“Like baseball tickets.” The smug tone was back in his voice again.
Caroline tapped her fingers against the steering wheel at a red light. “I am not descending, I’m merely… slouching.” When his soft laugh rumbled across the line, she may have preened slightly. Whatever, he'd never know. "Anyways. My conditions."
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The Ruined pizzaplex is steeped in death and disrepair, it’s almost to the point that when the others are finally Meteor-ed, they don’t even know if they’ll survive escaping the damn place. None of them know, it’s a death trap. I don’t even think some of them expected to live for long after they escaped
But then they do, and they’re in a completely unfamiliar world that’s saturated with life and it’s unlike anything they’ve ever been exposed to before. Fazent always carried that touch of death, yknow? They never knew any different.
But then they claw their way into the light and someone is wrapping a blanket around their shoulders and giving them a bottle of water and asking if they’re ok because they must’ve just been Changed, they look so disoriented, and they don’t know what to do.
But they have each other, they’re *alive* again. The scars will never go away, but they have each other, and they desperately hope that’s enough.
YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE-
Fsdfsdf nah though you're on the right lines with this... may I offer...
The Plex is dead. It's stagnant, forever unchanging and is left to rot like all the other bodies under the floorboards. Those that remain are rotting and hurt, discarded like broken and unwanted toys and abandoned in the ruins of what is the only world, the only home they've ever known.
... But it's not dead.
How can it be? They're still there. They're still alive.
And like a phoenix rising from the ashes, they'll realise that for themselves and start laying the kindle for their fire.
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