#But that's probably best not to think about.
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sometimes i see cis people say "trans people will understand if you misgender them at first. i call my nephew 'her' all the time and he knows i don't mean it" no he doesnt. he probably never hangs out with you for more than ten minutes because that's how long you can last in a conversation before making him feel like shit. also he thinks you're, best case scenario, stupid for not being able to figure it out, or worst case scenario, uncaring about him and his needs. he doesn't like spending time with you. you're deluding yourself into thinking you're far kinder than you are. you're weird man.
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Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.
There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.
The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.
The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.
There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)
And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.
But. This brings me to the real point of the post.
Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:
Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.
And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"
And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.
It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.
And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.
TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.
#I reckon anyway#mileage may vary I suppose#but this has certainly made my life a lot happier to stop assuming everyone was attacking me#and to stop getting into pointless fights with no good or satisfying ending#this has been this week's Gospel According to Elanor
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do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick
As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping
Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.
Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.
Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy
None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.
The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one
No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.
Some things I've done myself that seem to help:
Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.
When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.
Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:
Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.
At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?
There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.
Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍
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alexia putellas x reader after insisting on going to r's childhood home to spend christmas with her family, alexia helps r navigate a rather difficult reunion with rather difficult parents. angst -> fluff / comfort :)
—
It was almost embarrassing, bringing Alexia home to a family so devoid of love. She’d insisted, though, never having met your parents, even though you’d met her entire extended family multiple times. She’d explained it adorably, that she wanted to see where you came from and the people that raised you. You weren’t entirely sure how to tell her that none of that was worth seeing, so with several complaints, you’d agreed to return home for Christmas. Alexia could be difficult like that; when she wanted something, she was like a dog with a bone.
She wanted you to get to spend Christmas with your family, and she was making it happen. No matter what you said.
What you absolutely couldn’t have, though, was Alexia getting to your childhood home unprepared. She had to know what she was getting herself into, and you did your best to prepare her. It started with small things, telling her how your mother was very religious, or how your father was quiet and probably wouldn’t speak much. But you couldn’t stop thinking of things to warn her about, until you were on the plane sitting next to her, a whole speech about your mother and her disapproval of your career falling from your mouth.
“And she’ll probably say something about us getting real jobs, and I just don’t want you to–”
Alexia cut you off, grabbing the hand that was gesturing wildly as you spoke and giving it a firm squeeze. “Amor, I have been hearing that for years from people. I can take it.”
Her smile was nothing but reassuring, and you weren’t sure how to express just how difficult your parents and your family could be. Your girlfriend knew that your relationship with your family was strained, but you’d always been very tight-lipped about the details. You were filled to the brim with anxious anticipation, and you could tell Alexia didn’t understand why you seemed to be dreading this. Christmas at home with your family should, theoretically, be an enjoyable and fun time.
It wouldn’t be. It hadn’t been, in all the years that you’d been travelling back home for it, and you knew it’d be even worse this year, because every second your mind would be consumed with being terrified of what your girlfriend would be thinking. Of your family and the way they viewed you, the way they spoke and belittled you. The fear that she would realize just how ugly and cruel your family could be and decide she didn’t want that in her life was all consuming.
You’d always heard that a person was the truest version of themselves with their family. This sentiment had always horrified you, your greatest fear being that it was correct. The version of you around your parents was the worst version of yourself, and Alexia was about to see all of it.
But didn’t Alexia deserve to see what she was getting herself into with you? In the end, this was what had you convinced to let her come home with you for the holidays. She deserved to know all of the person she was with.
“Amor, hey.” Alexia called, cupping your cheek with one hand as you focused back on her, apparently having gotten lost in your thoughts. “Where did you go just now?”
Her eyes were crinkled with concern, her fingers soft on your cheek, and you felt the sudden appearance of tears pooling in your eyes. Her brow knitted together and she leaned closer, gently kissing your cheek.
You inhaled deeply, letting her hand in yours ground you into the present. “I’m nervous. I don’t think you get that–”
Alexia interrupted you again, covering your mouth with her hand. “I understand that your family is difficult. I understand that your relationship with them is not the best. But maybe this can be your chance to try to mend things, no? And I promise, amorcita, nothing I see from your family will make me love you any less.”
Alexia kissed you again before pulling you into her chest as best she could with the arm of the airplane seat in between you. You let her hold you, wondering if she was telling the truth. If she’d really still love you after… what you were increasingly sure would be a disaster was over.
—
It started as soon as you arrived. There were a few moments of peace on the drive from the airport to your parents house, with Alexia practically smooshing her face against the window to get a glimpse of your hometown.
And then you’d arrived, and within a few minutes of your arrival, your mother had commented on your hair, your clothes, your career, and your lack of time spent at home. Alexia was quiet, as you knew she would be, because she still felt insecure about her English, and she much preferred to listen to it than to speak it.
Your parents seemed to like Alexia, at least, commenting on how put together she seemed, and how kind it was of her to bring the bottle of wine she had with her as a gift for them. You were still tense, though, standing in the pristinely white kitchen with your parents and your siblings, discussing the plans for the day. It was the 22nd, and there were still things needed to be done before everyone arrived on Christmas Eve. Alexia stood at your side, just observing.
“Alright, what else does everyone need to do?” Your mother asked, taking out a notepad and holding her pen at the ready over it, as if you all weren’t adults that could remember simple tasks.
“I need to get the ingredients for the Christmas cookies I’m going to make.” You stated, having done all of your shopping already and sent it ahead.
“Really? You’re going to make those cookies?” Your mother replied, her fast twisting with disgust. You shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
“Yes, everyone normally likes them.”
Your mother exchanged a look with your father, smirking as she looked back at her list. “Honey, no one eats them. I throw most of them out every year when you’re not looking.”
Your face burned with embarrassment, and you shrunk into yourself, head bowed as you stared at the floor and willed everyone to stop looking at you. This was what you’d always done; instead of arguing back, you’d shut down. They could say what they wanted, but you didn’t have to let it hurt you. You weren’t exactly sure how to stop it from hurting, but they didn’t have to know that.
Yet as your Mom turned to your sister to ask her what she had left to do, Alexia stepped closer towards you, grabbing your hand and taking a deep breath.
“I like the cookies. And so does the team, they always ask you to bring them.” Her voice was soft, words accented, but the room was silent. Your mother turned to look at her, an odd expression on her face, and you sighed internally. You could feel nothing but deep gratitude for Alexia, sweet loyal Alexia who loved anything you cooked and and refused to let even you criticize yourself.
Your Mother chuckled, a cruel sound that made you wince.
“You don’t need to lie, Alexia, you’re already way out of her league. You shouldn’t have to eat her awful baking too.” Your Mother joked, a glint in her eye that told you she wasn’t really joking.
Still, Alexia seemed offended at your mother’s words, and you should have known she would be. Her grip on your hand tightened, and she stepped in closer.
“No, she is a good baker, and I–”
Your father cut Alexia off, speaking for the first time since you’d arrived. “Well, the Spanish do have weird tastes. Excessively affectionate, too.” His eyes flickered down to where your hand was intertwined with Alexia’s, his meaning clear in his tone.
You felt Alexia’s hand slip from yours, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that she had turned red. This was a step too far. Making Alexia feel embarrassed for showing affection towards you… you could take everything they had to throw at you, but they were not allowed to mess with the best person you’d ever known.
You stepped forward, despite the light tug on the back of your shirt from Alexia, clearly telling you to let it go. You couldn’t let it go; you could handle the disrespect from your parents, but you wouldn’t let them do the same to Alexia.
“That was rude, Dad.” Your voice shook pathetically, the big stand you were taking seemed pitiful as soon as you tried to speak.
Again, your parents just exchanged amused glances, and you could see out of the corner of your eye your siblings rolling their eyes. It seemed as if no one was on your side, and you weren’t sure why you were surprised. That’s how it always went.
Without another word in your direction, your Mother turned to your siblings, asking them what they had left to do. Of course, there was no criticism of the cake your sister intended to bake, even though it always came out dry. No one told your brother that the amount of alcohol he was planning on getting was absurd. It seemed the humiliation was only reserved for you.
The old feeling was back, the one of deep loneliness. You’d spent almost 18 years in this house, feeling like an outsider. Whenever you returned, it was like you reverted back to the 18 year old that had left, no matter how much time had passed. You always felt like an irrationally angry kid in the face of how your parents treated you, and you hated it. Always second guessing yourself, always half sure that you were the one in the wrong. Your parents, your brother and your sister, they all agreed that you were the problem. You were alone, here, like you always were.
Another tug on your hand, though, reminded you that you weren’t actually alone.
“Come on, show me your room.” Alexia whispered, her hands gentle as she guided you out of the room. She was shocked, to say the least, at your family’s treatment of you. She’d known you had a difficult relationship but she didn’t imagine it was like this. You’d been home for 10 minutes, seeing your parents for the first time in almost a year, and they’d wasted no time trying to embarrass you in front of her. She was hoping this was a one off, though, perhaps an inside joke she had misunderstood. So, she let you lead the way to your room, taking in the small space more critically than she normally would have.
Her room at her mothers house was left practically untouched from when she’d moved out. It was filled with posters of footballers and old memories. Your room here, though, was devoid of any sentiment. No pictures, no decorations, nothing that made it feel like it had been yours. Alexia wasn’t sure if your parents had cleared away any trace of you from the room, or if it had never really been decorated in the first place. She wasn’t sure which she preferred, honestly.
But as you leaned into her wordlessly for a hug as soon as the bedroom door shut behind you, Alexia began to worry. Making you bring her here was starting to feel like a mistake. She didn’t have the whole picture, or even most of it. All she knew was that she hated the blank expression on your face, and she hated the way you seemed to shrink into yourself around your parents. Like you’d rather disappear than be noticed by them.
—
It wasn’t a one off, the awkward moment upon your immediate arrival home. It had barely been 24 hours, but Alexia had witnessed at least 5 different instances of your parents treating you like an inconvenient annoyance instead of the daughter they hadn’t seen in almost a year.
First, it was your mother asking about your plans for when football ended.
“All I’m saying, honey, is that you are not going to be able to find a good job with your school records.” She tutted, before turning to Alexia. “I swear, she didn’t finish a math or science class with more than a C her entire time in school.”
Your mother smiled, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Alexia’s face was one of both shock and horror. Her mami would never have said something even remotely close to what your mother had just said, even if Alexia had failed every class she’d ever taken. It was so unnecessary, and your girlfriend could see the weight your mother’s words had over you.
It was more of the same from the day before; instead of saying anything in response, you just sank back into the couch, gaze fixed on the floor. This only seemed to mollify your mom, and as she kept talking, rehashing every test you’d failed, Alexia could see tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“Her marks were so bad before she left for football, I don’t think she would have even graduated.” Your mother chuckled. It was untrue; your grades weren’t that bad. Not the best, sure, but you weren’t in any danger of failing or getting kicked out. Still, it was like your mouth was sealed shut, and saying anything in response wasn’t possible. You couldn’t defend yourself, you couldn’t even look up from the ground. It was pathetic.
“Amor, can you help me choose what to wear tonight? I brought two sweaters, and I cannot decide.”
Alexia didn’t wait for a response from you, standing and reaching for your hand, well past caring that your parents seemed to think of Alexia’s affection as something of an entertaining joke. You followed her down the hall and into your bedroom, her hand warm and soft in yours, only making the sob caught in your throat more difficult to keep in.
As soon as you were safely in your sadly bare bedroom, though, she was wrapping you up tight in her arms.
You tried to defend yourself, mortified at everything your mother had said, words mumbled into Alexia’s sweatshirt. “I’m not dumb. She made it sound like I’m dumb, but–”
Alexia cut you off, holding you even tighter. “You are not dumb, I know this. Do not listen to her, do not even think about it. You are so intelligent, mi amor, I promise you.”
Your body began to shake in her arms, a quiet thank you breaking the brief silence. You were crying, and it was all Alexia could do to keep holding you until the tears stopped. What else could she say?
But for every conversation that followed in which your mother attempted to belittle you or make you feel bad, Alexia would find an excuse to pull you away.
When your mother expressed her distaste for your haircut, Alexia practically wrote you a poem in the garage about how much she loved your hair.
When your father made a thinly veiled comment about how you were most definitely not invited to church the following day, as the other families would be judgemental about your lifestyle, Alexia was right beside you, trying to hold back her absolute fury. She forced a smile, telling your father it was better you both stay home, because ignorance and stupidity were not worth engaging with.
When your mother suggested you eat a salad instead of the pasta you were going to order for dinner, Alexia very pointedly informed your mother that you were among the fittest on the team. And later, laying in bed, when she could tell you were still thinking about the comment, she… reminded you how much she loved your body. Twice.
Alexia had an answer for everything, a way to make your chest stop squeezing whenever your mother opened her mouth. You weren’t sure how she was doing it, weren’t sure why she was possibly still here. After all of your flaws were explicitly laid out in front of her, she seemed only more determined to make it clear how much she loved you.
It was easier, one you decided to just focus on Alexia and not what your parents had to say. With her there with you, it felt like this was a trip you could maybe get through.
But then Alexia offered to take the family dog for a long walk while you caught up with your sister, by far your favorite member of the family. She thought it was important that you have time together, and she didn’t mind a bit of time away from the loud chaos that had taken over the house.
She left with the dog, returning only 45 minutes later, with no idea what her absence had given the opportunity for.
Alexia came back into the house, unhooking the dog from his leash, the smile falling from her face when she sensed the tension in the room. You were nowhere to be seen, and your parents looked beyond furious, clattering around angrily in the kitchen as they cooked. Your sister sat on the couch, guilt written across her face.
“She’s in her room, go,” your sister whispered, catching Alexia’s eye and giving her a meaningful nod. It didn’t take a mind reader to understand what had happened. Things had been on the brink with your parents the short time you’d been home. It seemed everything had finally boiled over. Alexia moved towards your room as fast as was socially acceptable, knocking softly on the door before opening it. You were sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, face wet with tears.
“Oh, mí bebe,” Alexia whispered, shutting the door quietly behind her and lowering herself onto the ground next to you. Her strong arms pulled you into a tight hug, and you burrowed into her, not minding the chill of her skin from the cold outside. No hug had ever felt warmer.
“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, feeling guilt upon guilt at the fact that you’d brought your girlfriend into this environment, even if she’d insisted on it. How embarrassed she must be, to see you so easily humiliated by your parents. She must be rethinking everything, your whole relationship.
But, as Alexia was often inclined to do, she surprised you, tenderly wiping away your tears and giving you a reassuring smile.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, nothing.” She assured you, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek.
“I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Then let’s go. We can get flights back to Spain. Be home before Christmas, spend it ourselves. Just us.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course I would, amor.”
“You wanted to come here, though, I don’t want to ruin everything,”
Alexia cut you off. “I don’t want to be anywhere that makes you unhappy.” She said softly. You looked up at her finally, and the adoring expression on her face as she gazed down at you was almost overwhelming.
“Okay.” You murmured, pressing your face into her shoulder. She held you close, pulling out her phone to buy tickets on the next flight out. Once that was done, she guided you away from the safety of her sweatshirt, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
“Get packing. I am going to speak to your parents.”
“Ale,”
“No. I am. Stay here, pack. I will be back in a moment.”
—
You couldn’t be sure what Alexia said to your parents. They didn’t speak as you left the house, and neither did either of your siblings. They all just watched you go, a somewhat impressed look on your sister’s face. Alexia wouldn’t tell you, either, saying she’d just told them what they needed to hear.
The next half a day or so went by in a blur. You were emotionally exhausted from being home, and Alexia practically had to drag you through the airport once you’d landed in Barcelona. Before you knew it, you were at Alexia’s mother’s house for Christmas Eve. Eli had been delighted to have the both of you home, not saying a single word about how you were supposed to be at your family’s home.
You could relax, finally, at Eli’s house with people you felt comfortable around. You loved Alexia’s family, loved how they all seemed excited to see you, asked you enthusiastic questions about your life. It was nice, spending the holidays with them. With Alexia’s arms around your shoulders, making sure you were always tucked into her side, and her family so happily chatting around you, it was so nice to be around a happy, loving family.
Happy, though, wasn’t all you felt. You watched Alexia with her Mami, her cousins and her aunts and uncles. She fit so easily, smiling widely as she joked around with them. Alexia was loved by her family, but you were not. You never had been and you didn’t understand why.
There had to be over 50 people in the house, and you were confident that no one would notice if you slipped off, just for a minute. Someone had noticed. Alba noticed the tears in your eyes, too, the ones you hadn’t even been aware of. So, while you darted off to the bathroom, the brunette went in search of her sister.
She found her in a crowd of her uncles, in a heated argument about some football tactic. Alba didn’t have the patience to wait until the conversation had ended, and knew that if Alexia had seen you just a few moments before, she wouldn’t either.
“Ale.” Alba said quietly, pulling on her sister’s arm. The blonde shook her off, barely turning her head to look at her as she did so. “Alexia, now.”
With a roll of her eyes, Alexia exited the conversation. “Ay dios mio, what, Alba?” she huffed, dragging her feet as Alba yanked her in the direction of the bathroom.
“Your girlfriend snuck away, and it looked like she was crying. Just thought you’d want to know.” Alba snapped with a frown, turning on her heel and stomping away. Alexia would fix that later, she thought.
“Amor?” Alexia called, knocking quietly. “Are you in there?”
She heard a deep inhale, and then your shaky voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”
Alexia tried the handle again. “Let me in, please.”
A moment passed before the lock clicked open and Alexia practically threw herself through the door and into the bathroom.
Your makeup was running, and you were desperately trying to mop up the tears still streaming down your face.
“Come here.” Alexia said simply, opening her arms for you to collapse into. It was a good thing she was wearing a black sweater, or there’d have been mascara visible all over it. You sniffled against her for a few moments, and she didn’t push you to talk. She ran her hand through your hair, leaving a light kiss on the top of your head.
You pulled away after a moment, reaching for a tissue, but Alexia grabbed one before you could, gently wiping away the tears and running makeup off your face. She had a frown set on her face, and you misunderstood the cause.
“I’m sorry. I’m okay, you can go back to your family.”
Her frown deepened. “Do not say sorry. What upset you? Did someone say something?”
You shook your head, feeling more tears well up in your eyes though you knew you really shouldn’t be crying anymore about this. “No, no one said anything.” You were wilting under Alexia’s stern gaze, so she made a conscious effort to soften, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
“Tell me what has you so upset.” She encouraged, pulling your body closer into hers.
You exhaled shakily, not quite sure how to explain it without sounding like an awful, pathetic person. “I… it’s just…”
Alexia sighed, resting her hand on your cheek and encouraging you to look up at her. “You can tell me, bebé. Whatever it is, you can always tell me.”
“It’s hard.” You mumbled eventually, studying the floor under your feet very closely.
“What is hard?”
“Being here.” You admitted. “With your family who all adore you, and they should, it’s just that my family… they don’t… and I just want…” Your voice broke and you slammed your mouth shut, unwilling to allow yourself to break down again.
“Amor,” Alexia breathed, engulfing you once more in a tight hug. “I know. It is not fair the way they treat you, I am so sorry. It makes sense that this is hard, I understand.”
You held tight to your girlfriend, letting the smell of her perfume wash over you. Alexia always knew what to say. Always knew how to make you feel better. You didn’t deserve someone as good as her, you were sure of that. As if reading your thoughts, Alexia leaned away from the hug and cradled your face in her hands.
“Let’s go home. I have a surprise for you there.” Her face was so earnest and hopeful, you felt your heart melt.
“But your family–”
“They will understand, and I am pretty sure they will not even notice us leave anyway, it is so loud in here, everyone loves to hear the sound of their own voice.” With a fond roll of her eyes and a half smile, Alexia had you convinced. She made sure the makeup that had run while you cried was wiped off your face, before expertly leading you out of the house. As she said, most of her family was too busy chatting to notice Alexia pulling you through the crowd, though she did stop to say goodbye to her mother. Eli gave you a tight hug, sending the two of you on your way with a large shopping bag full of wrapped gifts.
It didn’t seem to bother Alexia, leaving early. In fact, she seemed so excited about whatever surprise she had for you at home that she was practically bouncing in the driver’s seat. Her excitement remained all the way home, until you were sitting on the sofa in your shared apartment, hands dutifully covering your eyes.
There was some rustling in the front hall closet, what sounded like a box falling from a shelf and Alexia’s voice quietly swearing. You smiled to yourself, hearing her footsteps approach, before something was placed in your lap.
“Okay! Open!” Alexia sang, sitting on the edge of the coffee table just in front of you. Opening your eyes, you found a gift bag resting in your lap, puffy as though it was a bit too small for whatever was inside, tissue paper haphazardly covering the opening of the bag. “Come on! Open!”
You chuckled, pulling the tissue paper out of the reindeer covered bag, and reaching in. Before you had even processed the fabric in your hands, Alexia was leaning in to kiss you, bursting with eagerness.
“It is matching Christmas pajamas!” She burst out, grinning from ear to ear as you unfolded the red and white plaid pajama pants, white long sleeve shirts with a well decorated christmas tree adorning the front.
You couldn’t help but match her energy, smiling back at her as she explained herself.
“I looked up Christmas traditions we could start, just ourselves. I have a whole list, and this is the first thing on the list. New matching pajamas every Christmas Eve. A new… our family tradition.”
It shouldn’t have surprised you, that Alexia thought of you as her family, but maybe you just weren’t expecting anyone to choose you when your family wouldn’t even do that. You dropped the pajamas into your lap, pulling her in for a soft kiss. “You’re the sweetest. I love it. And I love you.”
“I love you more.” Alexia whispered, kissing you again before pulling you to your feet. “Let’s put them on and watch a Christmas movie!”
It didn’t matter that Alexia didn’t particularly care for Christmas movies. Not when she was waiting for you on the bed, her set of pajamas looking adorable on her. Her fading blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, and her face broke into a massive smile when she saw you in your set of pajamas.
And as you laid in Alexia’s arms, plaid pajama covered legs tangled together as a Christmas movie played on the TV, it didn’t matter so much that you didn’t have your family to celebrate with. You had Alexia, and that was more than enough.
—
have not proofread this so pls tell me if you find a typo
i hope you enjoy! i know the holidays aren't always enjoyable for everyone, and honestly it's gonna be a weird one for me, but i hope everyone feels loved and appreciated this year.
#woso x reader#woso imagine#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics
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⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ
yandere!heeseung・ reader g ・ smut cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ 0.8k | click to library
request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!
he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.
he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.
he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”
heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.
you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.
“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.
you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!
you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”
you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”
he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”
you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”
he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”
that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.
because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.
you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…
©️LUVYENI
#enhypen ff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung fic#heeseung fic#lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung hard thoughts#lee heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts
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SINSMAS SPOILERS AHEAD
Fan theory time!
This part of this episode had me SCREAMING because I hope they're hinting at a headcanon/theory I've had for a long time!
The way this scene was such a DIRECT callback to S1E1 Muder Family, down to looking through a window and one of them being hesitant to go through with the job because there's a happy family?
In Murder Family it was the same situation (murdering someone responsible for a marriage falling apart), but Blitzø didn't think anything of it even though he had done the same with Stolas. Blitzø and Stolas' situationship vs. Stella could've well been a Martha and Mrs. Mayberry situation, if you remove the later knowledge he and the viewers didn't have at first. Mrs. Mayberry as a client could have very well been a Stella if we didn't know the context later in the episode said otherwise. Mrs. Mayberry was more angry that the public viewed Martha as a hero for surviving being shot than anything else.
And the entire Sinsmas mission making Blitzø hesitant, because now he's realizing that he relates to his target? Like, suddenly he's examining that his revenge murder stuff isn't always the best solution, and this might be hurting someone who has been through shit and should be happy? That he could be killing a Stolas or a Blitzø? That he could be ruining a family of kids like Loona and Via who don't deserve it?
That maybe like he's been doing with his personal life, he should be asking some more questions about the impact of the jobs he's taking on, too? Add in the way Blitzø insists constantly that he's an assassin, not a bodyguard, but he is super protective of his loved ones and has proven to be really, really good at saving people...
Incoming IMP revolution theories might mess this up, but I am going to be SO, SO HAPPY if the eventual end-of-show route for IMP is that they transfer from murder to being bodyguards for hire. Like IMP is now Imminent Murder Prevention or something. Blitz is getting over his mentality that he can only make people's lives worse, and what better symbolism for that than his entire company eventually being devoted to protecting/saving people instead of destroying them?
They still get to fight/shoot/kill if needed, but to help instead of harm. The absolute symbolism. The way that would probably be really good for Blitzø's mental health once he makes that connection because he loves helping people he likes or thinks need it. Moxxie might like it, too. Just everything about this possibility.
I would love it SO MUCH.
#helluva boss spoilers#helluva boss#helluvaverse#sinsmas spoilers#sinsmas#helluva boss sinsmas#helluva boss fan theory#fan theory#caldella#tw blood#tw violent imagery
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You know I only like miscommunication when it's being used for comedic purposes like, for example 14 year old Billy Batson and 15 year old Danny Phantom accidentally get magically Married and both tell the other there identities because why not there stuck married till one of them stops exiting so they might as well make the best of it, and just don't tell anybody cause nobody asks ( nobody would know to ask anyway)
And it's been years since then that Captain Marvel (17 years old now) off hand says he has to go back for dinner with his husband (Danny, 18 years old, they're going on a date), and all of the Justice League league being surprised by this info, and of course they ask if they can meet his husband and Marvels like sure lemme ask him, and Danny agrees to go but only as Phantom (because secret identities) but also Phantom still looks like he's 14 back from when he died. So it's just weird to the Justice League and it's just so funny to me that they don't ask about the obvious age difference while also trying to subtly ask how they met! And then more confusion when Danny mentions stuff he did while he time traveled and then the justice league thinks he's thousands of years old but just looks like how he died (tho the person who asked that most definitely got the cold shoulder)(probably Batman)
#danny phantom#dc#batman#dpxdc#dc comics#dcu#dcxdp prompt#dcxdp#dc x dp#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc#billy x danny#danny x billy#billy batson#dc captain marvel#dc x dp misunderstandings#dp x dc misunderstandings#justice league#it's just so hilarious to me and it's even funnier if the confusion never gets cleared up except maybe Billy and Danny who think it's funny#danny fenton#forever fourteen Phantom
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She does, and with some stuffed dollies too :D No favorites though. They're pretty much just for the aesthetics
Absolutely! But I don't think she'd see animals as pets since they're more like friends to her. Not sure about the child one, she's gonna need a lot of help (hehe) with taking care of one.
I dont get this question, cuz I myself know who her love interests are but she doesn't yet. Should she still describe them anyway? Is that what the answer is supposed to be here? Idk lol maybe I'd back on this another time.
Hell yeah
Yeah! About anything! Snakes, rocks, flags, the word hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia, the first 10 digits of pi, a snowflake, the evolution of microphones, and pretty much anything that would interest her, and there's a lot that would interest her!
No matter what, she'll trust her fellow deities advice (and herself) since they know. And Papyrus too. So far theres no specific person she won't listen to advice for just yet.
Silly. Smart. Stupid. As for how she'd describe herself: Human. Student. Girl. OR! She is a B, C, and D. :D
She likes puzzles, no matter how complex it can get.
Nope.
She's totally fine with the age she has now and it's definitely her age, yep! She didn't just make it up or anything nope.
She'll give it away :) (you'd question why she'd join the lottery in the first place, but she probably just wanted to know what would happen and how it worked)
She can enjoy it
She would if she had any :D
She wouldn't. People should enjoy what they want without guilt!
Well, school and work is definitely not a waste of time for her. Everything she puts time and effort on is no waste :D there's always something to learn from everything she tries or does
Whatever it is she wears now
Yes! They're just smaller, younger mortals!
*shrugs*
Technically yeah she would
Math I guess (and other sciences related to it), if she's around dumb people (like me). And no one probably likes mosquitoes, or cockroaches, or pretty much any insect or living being that people are typically disgusted with or afraid of, but she does :D
Idk probably if she no longer feels comfortable? She's not one to stay silent on the important things I think, if she realizes there's a pressing problem/issue in the relationship then she HAS to address it. If they fix it, good, if not, well, they tried, but there's no point forcing things when they simply don't work. It's gonna hurt a lot, but it's gonna hurt a lot more otherwise. There won't be a last straw.
Not sure if she likes it. If it's a really good pet name, she'll love it at best and if it's meh she's neutral about it at worst. Pet names are kinda harmless, so even if she doesn't like a nickname someone gives to her she'll shrug it off I think. Just mortal things she supposed, may as well let them at it. An exemption though if the petname is just so insulting to her (congrats if you managed to find a petname that would be insulting for her), and in that case NOPE please call her something else. Please. She's not one to use petnames either. She prefers addressing everyone with their name. Even the ones she's very close with
Novelty
Honesty
Possibility
Effort
Forgiveness
Maybe
Sliding down a rainbow and landing on a pot of gold. Sometimes the gold is a pile of candies. Sometimes they're cotton candies. Sometimes the pot is just liquid chocolate. (She intentionally dreams all this by the way)
She's not gonna like that question 😅
oc asks that reveal more than you think
Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?
Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?
Ask them to describe their love interest.
Do they look good in red?
Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?
Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?
Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.
Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?
Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?
What age do they most want to be right now?
They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?
Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?
Name one thing their parents taught them.
Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?
What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?
If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?
Do they like children?
Kissing: tongue or no tongue?
Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?
What do they like that nobody else does?
What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?
Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?
Stability or novelty?
Honesty or charity?
Safety or possibility?
Talent or effort?
Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?
Would they date a fixer-upper?
What recurring dreams do they have?
What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?
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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Part one
Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.
Under the cut⤵️
Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?
Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?
For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.
Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.
It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.
Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.
His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!
But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.
Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.
He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.
Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.
Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.
He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.
So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.
That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?
Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...
His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.
Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?
Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.
Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.
It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!
People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.
In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.
He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.
Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.
Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..
He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.
Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.
In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.
Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.
Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.
But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.
Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.
Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.
Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.
Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.
Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.
Uggh.
The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.
Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.
When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.
When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.
The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??
Freaking cursed.
Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.
One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???
Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.
It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.
If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--
He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?
He's going to get sick.
He needs to talk to Jazz right now.
____________
Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.
They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).
“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”
Jazz frowns
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.
“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”
Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.
“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”
Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.
“Mech, what the hell?”
“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.
Before thinking for a bit, and adding.
“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”
And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.
This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.
Prowl looks confused.
Jazz looks absolutely frantic.
“SWERVE????”
Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?
Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.
Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.
“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."
Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.
“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”
“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”
There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.
“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”
Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.
Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?
“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”
He pauses dramatically.
“The long version is...”
Jazz raises his hand
“What's a holoform?”
Swerve sighs.
“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”
Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl
“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“
Prowl hums
“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”
Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.
“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”
Jazz laughs
“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”
“ I was.”
Prowl frowns.
“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”
“.... I had a lot of practice...”
Jazz claps his hands.
“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”
“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.
Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused
“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”
“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”
“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.
Swerve blows the hair out of his face
“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”
Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.
“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”
Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets
“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”
Prowl twitches his door wings
“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”
Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.
He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.
He's thinking.
Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!
Then he remembers the mess he left behind.
Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.
Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”
“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”
Jazz looks...puzzled.
“Is that bad?”
Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...
“It's...complicated.”
This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...
And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...
Hahahahah oh fUCK.
He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.
It's also probably too late.
But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.
And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.
Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face
“ That expression you have...”
Swerve puts the smile back on his face.
“I need to get to Earth.”
___________________
Swerve is not an idiot.
Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.
He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.
Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.
The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.
He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....
Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.
“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”
Swerve laughs.
“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”
“It's not harmful?”
Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.
“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”
Jazz tilts his head
“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”
Swerve bites his knuckles.
“ I have some unfinished business?”
“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”
Swerve only laughs in response.
_______________
Concentration is tricky.
Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?
Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost
Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.
What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.
He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.
The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.
After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.
He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--
Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.
This is the place where he was last.
He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.
Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.
Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.
Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.
All right.
He's got things to do.
_______________
He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?
He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.
He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.
Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.
All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...
He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?
The answer is probably none.
Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.
A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.
Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.
Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.
Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.
Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.
It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.
He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.
It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.
Blurr's name isn't there.
So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.
He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.
That's...something's wrong.
He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”
Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.
“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?
Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.
Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”
This is it, Swerve thinks.
He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.
He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.
He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.
Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi
Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.
Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.
Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.
Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.
Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.
“'Got bored without me Swindle?”
Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.
“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”
Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.
“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”
Swindle adjusts his glasses
“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”
“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.
Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”
He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.
Goes back to his seat.
“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”
He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.
“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”
Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again
“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”
Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.
“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?
Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose
“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”
Blurr blinks.
“Why are you telling me all this.”
Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.
“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”
Blurr's eye widens
“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”
“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”
Blurr runs his fingers through his hair
“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”
Swindle puts his hat back on.
“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”
The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.
Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”
They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.
“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”
Blurr smiles sourly.
“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”
Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.
“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”
Blurr bites his lip.
“I..don’t know...”
Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.
Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.
Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.
The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.
The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.
Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.
Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.
Ah, damn it.
Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.
And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.
Blurr ... is crumbling.
Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.
But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.
He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.
And continues to act like a jerk of course.
The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.
Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.
When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.
Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.
It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.
It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.
Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”
Investors say, “I think he likes me.”
Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”
Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.
Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.
On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.
Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.
Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.
Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.
Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.
But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.
It makes a difference. Small one. But still.
It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.
From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”
More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?
There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.
While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.
After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.
“Good show.”
Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.
“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”
Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.
Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.
“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”
Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.
“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”
Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.
“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”
Blurr freezes.
No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't
“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”
Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.
“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”
Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.
Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.
“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”
Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.
“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”
Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.
“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”
He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.
“You are broken. I can fix you.”
Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.
“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”
Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.
“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”
Blurr flinches.
“I don't need your help.”
“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”
...
“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”
Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.
____________________________
Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.
Holy shit...
Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm
“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”
“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”
Jazz laughs
“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”
Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.
“Ah...”
“So it worked?”
“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”
Jazz rubs his hands together happily.
“I'll take it.”
Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.
He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.
He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.
Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.
Left to himself.
He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.
....
Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?
He looks at Jazz and Prowl.
“You two get along really well.”
Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.
“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”
Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.
On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.
_____________________
”Are you a ghost?”
Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.
He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?
“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”
Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.
Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.
“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”
Blurr squints amusedly.
“You can walk through walls?”
“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”
He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.
“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.
Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.
“ Show me more?”
“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”
“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”
Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.
Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.
“They really drugged you huh?”
“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”
He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair
“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”
Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.
"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?
Race???”
He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???
Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket
“I won't.”
He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.
“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”
Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.
“Well...at least you're alive....”
Blurr shakes his head.
“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”
“...”
“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”
Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.
Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.
“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”
Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.
“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”
“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”
Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...
Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.
“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”
“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”
Swerve stiffens.
“I...Wwhat?”
“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”
He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues
“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”
Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.
Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.
“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”
“You'll tell me later?”
Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.
“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”
---------------
Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.
“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”
Swerve snorts.
“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”
“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”
Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.
“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”
Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.
“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.
Swerve laughs.
“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”
_______________
His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.
He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.
They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.
Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.
Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.
Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.
Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake
“Mind some company?”
Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.
“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”
Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.
“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”
Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly
“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”
“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”
Pharma tilts his head
“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”
Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.
“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”
“What do you mea...”
“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.
“No I'm just...”
“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”
“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”
Swerve shakes his head.
“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”
“Wh..”
Blurr rolls his eye.
“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”
“Wait..”
“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”
Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.
“Can at least one of you shut up??”
Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner
“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”
He raises his eyebrows knowingly
“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”
Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.
“…..Wha....there's rumors?”
“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”
He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself
“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”
Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.
“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma
Swerve shrugs.
“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”
Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.
A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.
“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”
Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.
“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”
Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.
Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.
Then he reaches out his hand to him.
Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.
Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.
Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.
Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....
“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”
Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.
“You're real???”
Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him
“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”
Blurr shrugs.
“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”
Swerve twitches.
“Third??? How are you still standing???”
He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.
“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”
Blurr laughs quietly.
“I'm glad you're back.”
_____________________
He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.
When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.
“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”
“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”
Jazz smiles
“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”
“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”
“Worried about what your human friends will think?”
Swerve swings back and forth on his heels
“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”
Jazz frowns
“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”
“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”
#maccadam#tf mecha universe#blurr#Swerve#mecha writing#mecha kef writing#mecha bs writing#if you saw any mistakes - no you didn’t#it’s six am I need to go to bed but I wanted to post it before my brain shuts down completely#mecha pilot jazz au#jazzprowl#jazzprowl happens on the background lol#Swindle#two nano seconds of Vortex#Shockwave#Pharma
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NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4
↳pt.5
christmas special
part one - part two - part three - part four
summary : As the days start getting closer to Christmas, you find yourself even more comfortable with your previous enemy. In a drunken spirit and ego boosted from karaoke, Lando can’t control his words. Even when Max finds you two in bed together.
og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.
listen up : dual pov! alcohol! swearing! drunk lando!
words : 3334
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Lando. Listen to me.” Oscar says over the phone, his voice registering in my brain but being distinctly distracted by two women taking instagram photos next to me.
“I am listening.” I mumble, watching Y/n turn and smile at the camera. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see that Oscar has requested facetime instead.
“What?” I look at the man who’s sitting in the sun and probably at the beach, “Can you pay attention for two seconds? I don’t want to be talking about work either.”
I sigh, turning away from the girls, “Can I ask you something?” I walk farther away just in case they can hear me.
Oscar groans at me still being off topic, “Shoot.”
“How did you know Lily fancied you?”
His brow jolts up, “I mean, We were pretty young, I just remember that she spoke to me a lot and she-” Lily pops her head in the call now.
“Don't listen to him, Lando! He was absolutely oblivious even though I was literally a giggling school girl around him.”
Oscar looks at her lovingly, “You were quite smiley.”
“Okay wrap it up lovebirds.” I roll my eyes.
Lily leaves and Oscar looks at me quizzically again, “So, who do you like so much that would possess you to ask that question?” I stay quiet for a moment, glancing back at Y/n who’s backlit by the sun, “Aren’t you with your family? Or Max and his girlfriend right?”
“No one. I’m just curious.” Deny deny deny.
He hums, “Wait… Doesn't Max have that sister you stalked all year-”
“Okay bye Oscar!”
He scrambles to get words in, “Wait we still need to talk about-”
I hang up on him.
⋆༺
Max and I have been kicked out by our the women. More like I was kicked out and Max was just craving a coffee. It’s not my fault I can’t cook!
After almost catching Y/n’s hair on fire, I was banished to the little coffee shop that’s been getting us through this week.
The barista hands us our coffees and one hot chocolate for Y/n. Max and I walk slowly to our car, looking at the scenery on the way. “I’m excited for Christmas.”
I smile as Max hums, “You’re awfully chipper.” He gives me a side eye and a smirk, to which I promptly shove him, “Ugh! I do not want to know!”
He laughs, “I know that P teases you about it, But I really do think a girlfriend would be good for you.”
I don’t just want a girlfriend. I want Y/n. I kick a rock at my feet, mumbling, “Yeah I doubt that.” I meant that he wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend if it was his sister, just he scoffs.
“Think about it! This year was completely fucked and yeah a lot of good shit happened but imagine how much easier the bad shit would be if you were in love.”
“You’re disgusting. Us ten years ago would be gagging at this conversation.”
He’s smiling still, “Yeah and that’s because I am in love.” I roll my eyes at his cheesy ass, “How do you have no roster, mate? It’s honestly embarrassing.”
“Maybe I do.” I sip my coffee, “I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“Maybe i’m just hanging out with Y/n and P too much, their best friend girly vibes are fun.” He points to me, “Still, it’s break! Get your groove on!”
I walk faster, shaking my head. “Groove? I’m going to leave you in the snow.”
⋆༺
you
I’m in a mini dress in the snow. What could go wrong?
I slip five minutes out the door which makes Lando’s arm become my new best friend even though my faux fur coat keeps tickling him.
We may or may not have pregamed for the tiny local bar which has me slipping on ice. “Four jolly jolly shots please…” Lando reads off the bar's menu, laughing a bit.
He looks good. Like really really good. His curls are perfect as usual and when he leans over to talk to the bartender, his dark green shirt tugs against his arms.
My brothers arm goes around my neck, tugging me and laughing, “Merry Christmas, sis!”
“Let go of me you vermin!”
“Shots!” P sings, handing me mine.
“Cheers to us!” Max grins, holding his tiny glass up.
“Cheers to Christmas.” P smiles happily.
Lando taps his glass on the table along with us, winking at me, “Cheers.” We all down the weird peppermint alcohol and swiftly make our way to the dance floor.
We sing along to shitty music and dance together in a crowd of college kids home for break, and their parents.
Lando’s hand finds my waist and is quickly slapped away. He gives me a pouty look which I find annoyingly attractive and quickly turns it into a smirk.
I down my drink, spinning back to my friends and dodging a guy and his friends. “Hey!” The guy smirks and I accidentally laugh in his face, he looks about five years younger than me and is staring at my chest.
I find my friends laughing and drinking with a random man who sort of looks like santa.
“Y/n!” Lando puts his arm around me which I promptly pull off.
“Aren’t you busy trying to hook up with a tourist?” I blink at him while my brother and P are distracted.
He leans in a bit, “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”
“You trying to get in my pants, Norris?” This makes him smile.
“I’m familiar with the area.”
I find myself at the bar again, but this time I order water. P and I giggle at the sight of Max and Lando just standing there looking lost without us.
“I’m really proud of you.” P says out of the blue.
I frown, “Thanks? I’m proud of you too.”
“I just mean… you’ve been through a lot.” I know what she means. My ex. “And you’re the best person I know.”
I smile, “I adore you, P.”
The truth is, my ex cheating really did break me. But I already knew something was wrong. I wasn’t being treated correctly and honestly breaking up with him was not on the top of my to-do list.
P was always there for me, my brother is a lot to handle and sometimes I just need a girl to talk to. That girl for me is P.
She pops back to her boyfriend while my water gets refilled. I swear this altitude is fucking with me, i’m so thirsty all the time.
“Hi.” I'm about to yell at the college guy who approaches me, until I realize there is no way this man is under twenty five.
“Oh! Hi.” I smile politely and tap the bar.
I clock his douchy attitude as soon as his ringed hand (which definitely came from shein) and patchwork tattoos land on the bar, clearly flexing.
“You’re gorgeous… Sorry, I just had to tell you!” He acts shy, like it’s horribly embarrassing to hit on. woman.
“Thank you…” Is all I can say before he continues.
“I’m Seth!” He’s australian… I think? He’s got short hair with dark skin that makes his eyes pop. “Are you visiting? I am.”
I nod and sip my water, “Yeah…”
“My girlfriend used to live here! My friends let me choose the place and…” He’s going on a long rant that I definitely did not consent to hear.
He’s loud in the way that i’m embarrassed to be heard with because he’s talking nonsense and trying to scoot closer to me with every word he speaks.
I bring my glass to my lips again, looking around then back to Seth who is still talking about his ex. Did I do something to offend the universe?
The hand on my hip scares me, but I don’t jump. I know the feeling too well by now. Lando’s smiling at the bartender, a protective arm around me, “Three green tea shots, thanks.”
He leans his hip against the bar, holding me close as my cheeks go red and I start chugging my water. Seth looks absolutely astonished, “Who’s your new friend, Sunshine?”
“Seth.” I say, swirling my straw around the cold glass.
“Hey man…” Seth looks scared. “I- I didn’t know she was taken.”
“She’s not.” He’s quick with it and I have to bite back my smile to contain myself from embarrassing Seth even more.
“Oh…” Seth hums, clearly wanting to go but I know Lando’s doing that thing where he states blankly at someone while smiling. “Well uh…”
“Choose your words carefully, Seth.” Lando slides him the shot then hands one to me. I decline and he downs it easily.
“Thanks.” He downs the drink with Lando, “And sorry.” Seth looks at me before scurrying off.
I turn to Lando, his hand never moving from my body, “Who knew you were so intimidating?
He shrugs, “I don’t mess around with the people I care about. Plus he just seemed like he was bugging you.”
“Quite talkative.” I smile softly as he laughs, “You’re good at the whole protective act.”
“Who said I was acting?” His face is serious when he says it, but immediately changes when he hears Max’s voice.
“Yo!” His hand drops to his side and he smiles at my approaching brother, “They have karaoke!”
P and Max end up on stage exactly two drinks later. I stick to water, my head already hurts from the others singing.
They're singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, and sort of slaying it. Max spins P as they both laugh and pretend they’re at some sort of concert.
“Please get up there!” I giggle with Lando, my hand on his arm as he smiles at me in that dreamy way he does so often.
“No way, Sunshine.” His eyes lined on my lips, his words a bit slurred.
“Please, Lan?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “What’ll you give me if I do?” My breathing quickens as he looks at me, drunk and so out of it that he looks like he’s about to kiss me.
I reach my arm out to fix the messy bit of his hair. His eyes follow my hand and drift down my arm back to me. There’s something so personal about the way he looks at me but it’s hard to explain.
He’s got many different expressions and maybe I'm just a bit self centered, but I swear he has some just for me.
He’s drunk now so all secrecy goes out the window. He’s lucky Max and P are singing so horribly on the tiny sticky stage.
“Whatever you want.” I pull my hand away, “When you’re sober, though.”
“I’m not even that many drinks in!” He scoffs in a whiny tone.
He’s five drinks in I think.
“But i’ll do whatever you say apparently.” His chair makes noise against the floors, practically pushing P and Max off the stage as his chosen music starts.
Linger, by the cranberries.
My smile grows as he starts, absolutely butchering the song immediately. He looks fucking free and absolutely ridiculous.
The microphone against his lips as he spins around and points to me, “You’ve got me wrapped around your fingerrrrrr!”
It was my favorite song in highschool.
He’s a terrible singer and incredibly drunk but knows all the lyrics by heart.
Max starts videoing and Lando flips him off, P is actually in tears and I feel a sense of calm and quiet happiness. It’s weird to think about, especially surrounded by sound and drunken people.
Still, I really do appreciate my friends in moments like these. I watch Lando on the stage again, his eyes are closed and he’s singing along quietly.
Most of the bar claps when he’s done, providing him false confidence even as he almost falls from the stage.
Lando slumps himself in the chair next to mine, Max and I speaking about old Christmas’ and how weird it is that so many things have changed.
P talks about her family traditions and how she’s happy we’re all together even if it is a bit unconventional.
Lando stays quiet, just hums along to the music and keeps his eyes closed. Max laughs at his friend, “Ready for bed, Bob?”
“I can drive back.” I sit up.
Max and P aren’t quite ready to go and assure me that they can take a cab. Lando, however is piss drunk and giggling at everything I say.
He holds onto my hand as we leave, the cold air hitting him like a wreck, “Ay!” He practically runs to the car, tries to get in the driver's seat, and finally gives in to me driving.
“I don't want to go back!” He complains as I drive off.
“We can… look at lights?” He nods eagerly and rests his head against my arm, his fingers drift up and down my arm, doodling invisible drawings.
I drive through the small neighborhoods, all quiet for the time of night. The lights are bright and nothing like where I actually live.
Lando slips his hand in mine, holding it tight and looking out the front window. I let him rub his thumb against my skin, acknowledging the goosebumps it sends up arm.
Maybe I let myself pretend like it means something more than Lando’s drunk touchy self.
His curls brush my bare arm because he requested I take off my coat and turn the heat up instead because it was ‘itching him’.
And I did it because something about Lando makes me just want to say yes.
“I wanna house like that.” He says, pointing to a medium sized white home. It’s got colorful lights all over and a tiny display of Rudolph in the yard.
“I like this one.” I take my free hand off the wheel for a second and point. It’s across the street and covered in white lights.
I keep driving as Lando turns the radio on which is playing Christmas music.
He hums along with the song that he most definitely doesn’t know.
His hand goes to my hair, twirling it around his finger as he looks up at me, doe eyed, “Can I have my reward now.”
“You’re nowhere close to being sober, love.”
He stops when I speak, whispering as if there’s a million people around, “You called me love.”
“You’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow.”
He gasps, “Tomorrow's Christmas eve! What a good present. You love me.” He hums and rests his head back against my shoulder.
“Keep dreaming, Norris.” I say while smiling.
We look at all the different lights, rating them and laughing. I mostly laugh at drunk Lando who can’t stop laughing.
Lando rolls down the window and even though it’s freezing, I let him. It’s silent out, except for our music on low.
“Do you like me?” Lando asks as I start back to our place.
I raise a brow, “Sure.”
“But do you?” He looks up at me but I don’t dare look down.
“I don’t hate you.”
It’s easier to get him into the house than it was to get him in the car. Besides a tiny slip, he laughs it off and instantly pulls his shirt off when we step inside the hot house.
We both stumble upstairs, I'm so tired that I could fall asleep on the floor. Yet I drag myself into the bathroom and remove my makeup and change into sweats and a hoodie.
Lando is in sweats now, leaning against the bathroom door as I brush my hair. “I can’t sleep.”
I laugh, “You haven’t even tried.”
“Come with me?” I shake my head, going to my own bed. He follows me still, catching my wrist and begging, “Please. I’m cold.”
“You have no shirt on.”
“I want you to.” He admits and for a second I wish he wasn’t so fond of Vodka.
I’m dragged into his bed, his arms wrapping around me quickly and humming against my hoodie, “You’re warm.” His hand goes to mine again, holding it.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble.” I say as I see the smirk on his face.
“The doors locked.”
His hand is still intertwined with mine when he looks up at me. I probably look terrible, but he just smiles.
“You’re really beautiful, Sunny.” His voice is clear and the softest it’s been in a while, especially while drunk.
He yawns and rests his head back on me. Lando whispers while his eyes are closed, i’m not even sure if he meant to say it out loud, but he does. “I hate you for it.”
It’s the first time his words really hit me.
“Why?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.
“You know.” And then he’s asleep and i’m stuck with a man cuddling me who I think I just might like more than I ever thought I could.
⋆༺
There’s few times in my life where I completely regret my life’s decisions. This might just be one of them.
Max is staring at us with his mouth open.
Max is staring at Lando’s shirtless self and his bare arm that’s around me!
I elbow Lando so hard that he wakes up with a groan. “Five more minutes.” He tries to pull me closer but I slap him again.
He opens his eyes this time, at first they’re narrowed at me as if I had the audacity to wake him up. Then he turns his head to what i’m staring at and promptly sits up straight.
“Goodmorning, Max!” He grins.
“Shut the fuck up.” My brother responds, Lando’s face goes slack and lays back down, covering his face with a pillow, “Is this why you two wanted to leave early yesterday?”
“No!” I say right as Lando says, “Yes!”
“I think I'm going to throw up.” Max starts pacing while I see P peek her head in from my room, surveying the situation as I mouth ‘help me’ and he leaves me.
“Chill out! Nothing happened.” I say while Lando moans and reaches for the water on his bedside table. “Right, Lando!?” I hit him again.
He sends me an annoyed look, “Right.” He takes a drink, wiping his mouth and looking at Max, “Trust me mate if something did happen she wouldn’t be wearing anything.”
I think he might still be drunk.
Max and I scream in unison. I climb out of the bed, my leg getting stuck in the bedsheet.
“I came to check if you two were still alive because it’s eleven in the morning, but Lando’s door was locked. Yours wasn’t and your room connector was wide open!” I roll my eyes and stomp into my room.
“His drunk ass practically dragged me in there and I wanted to sleep!” I shrug, putting on my slippers and pulling my bed head hair into a messy bun.
“My head is pounding, can you two be quiet!?” Lando says from the other room.
Max follows me down the stairs, “Nothing happened?”
“Nothing happened!” I echo, finding P in the kitchen and sending her a wide eyed look, “He was drunk, Max.”
I pour myself some coffee, crossing my arms as Max gives me a look. Lando comes thumping down the stairs, hoodie on now with his hair an absolute mess. “Guys…”
Max stops him, “If you make another sex joke Lan, I might kill you.”
“Hey!” He groans, taking my coffee from out of my hands and drinking it! I roll my eyes and pour myself another. “I was just going to say-”
“Choose your words very carefully, Norris.” I mumble.
“Happy Christmas Eve.” He raises his mug, smiling at all of us.
“Oh.” Max blinks as P lets out a little snort.
“Well then…” P smiles at me, “I think it’s time to cook!”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris series#lando norris fluff#lando x you#f1 christmas#christmas fanfic
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🌟Random JJK Men Headcanons!🌟
Creds to @cafekitsune for all dividers!!
Masterlist
NSFW CONTENT UP AHEAD!!
Includes: Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Shiu Kong (Maybe more characters in the future! Recommend some n’ they might be up here next!…just no minors pls unless it’s for fluff 😭😭)
Not rlly proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes!!!
Kento Nanami
• Would definitely be a whiner, especially when it’s time to get up in the morning, “Mmm..darlinggg…”, his grip on your waist becoming tighter. “Just five more minutes.. pretty please…?”, how could you possibly deny your sweet husband?
• Kento will always help you with your hair if needed and is always good at it (You don’t know this, but every night while your sleeping, he watches YouTube videos on how to style curly hair in cute styles he knows you’d like).
• Rarely ever cries to you since he doesn’t want you stressing out over him. When he did cry, however, you’d be sure to have him lay on your lap and softly coo at him until he falls asleep.
• Will be the cook of the house. Sure, he’d let you cook a few meals from time to time, but he would prefer cooking for you instead of vice versa. (His food ALWAYS ended up delicious)
“Kento let me cook for tonight please! You cook all the timeee!” You whine as you’re being dragged back to the living room by your husband.
“Please, my love, sit down. I want you to relax this evening.” Kento kisses you on your forehead as he sits you down on the couch. “Dinner will be ready in a few, okay?”
“Tomorrow night Kento, I will be cooking.” You say with a pout on your face, and Kento can’t help but let out a chuckle.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
• When one of your favorite songs of all time play on the car radio, you’d scream the lyrics, eventually luring Kento in to sing with you. He probably wouldn’t know half of the songs you listen to, but he’ll still sing with you if it makes you happy.
• Never calls you by your name unless something serious is going on. Will always call you baby, sweetheart, darling, love, or honey. (Ex. “Love, if you don’t mind, could you get me a sandwich from that bakery I always go to?” “Honey, you’re always so good to me, I love you so much.”)
• Speaking of which, he loves it when you call him sweetie, Ken, or even if you refer to him as “your man”. He gets hard just thinking about it.
• He’s definitely a little pervert. Whenever you’re out the house for a lengthened period of time, he’d use the opportunity to steal multiple pairs a pair of your used underwear and jack off to it in your shared bedroom, making sure to leave his cum right in the center of your panties. Little did he know, however, the cameras in your house caught every second of it.
• Kento would absolutely love to be dominated by you. Just the thought of you riding him and fucking him with your strap until there’s tears rolling down his face just does something to him.
• He’ll beg and whimper to you at any point during sex, the way he looks so pathetic as soon as you have him in your grasp is something indescribable and makes you want more. “Mmh—babyyyy—haah—oh goddd—I’m gonna cumm-”
“L-Love please—please let me—”
“Ooohhhh—can’t hold it b-back, d-darling-“
• We all know this man is an absolute king when it comes to aftercare. Giving you a minute to rest, he goes to your kitchen and brews up some chamomile tea. Afterwards, he runs a warm bath with some rose petals which he knows you like.
Toji Fushiguro
• Isn’t very good at communication due to being raised in nothing but an abusive household. Knowing this, you help him every step of the way, and he can’t help but look at you with hearts in his eyes.
•He’ll hit you with a dad joke at the most random and unexpected times. You could both be showering together and he’d be talking about some, “What do you call two ducks and a cow? Quackers and milk.” They’ll always make you laugh, though.
• Expect Toji to tease you 24/7. For example, if you’re wearing a bonnet, best believe he’s snatching it off as soon as you walk past him, laughing and holding it over his head as you’re trying to take it back.
-SWOOP- All you feel now is a breeze on the top of your head instead of your trusty bonnet. “Toji I swear to God if you don’t stop snatching my bonnet there’s gonna be problems.” You turn to face the man who now has your leopard print bonnet in his big hand.
“Oh please girl,” you hated the way he mirrored your sass. (You didn’t) “Y’r not gonna do a thing to me.” He chuckled, now putting your bonnet on his head.
“Tojiiiii you’re gonna stretch it outtt!” You groaned and hit his chest, yet Toji doesn’t pay you any mind.
“Babyyyyy,” He mimics you, “I’ll give it back under one condition.”
You sigh, knowing the exact condition.
“Jus’ gimmie a kiss, and the bonnet is all yours.”
• His usual go-to of pet names would include: Doll, babe, baby, ma, brat, and princess (Ex. “Babe, you wanna come to this new restaurant with me? Heard they had some good steak.” “Quit bein’ such a little brat.” “Y’look so damn pretty, doll.”).
• Toji brags to his best friend Shiu all about you, much to his annoyance. He boasts about how pretty you are, how smart you are, how big your ass is, and how lucky he is to have you.
• He absolutely loves the way you treat his five year old son, Megumi. You treat the boy as if he’s your own, and Toji can’t help but smile until his cheeks are sore, and even then he wouldn’t stop smiling.
• This man cannot cook for shit. The only cooking he’s doing would be making toast with butter or ordering takeout.
• He’d definitely eat you out of a house and home and take a fat nap afterwards, though. His portions of food would be enough to feed three people. Living with him, you’d have to go food shopping every two days.
• Though he’d never admit it, Toji loves hugs and how you smother him will all kinds of affection. He’d act all annoyed and tough and claim he doesn’t like it, but deep down you both know he eats it up every single time.
•Expect to see dirty gym socks and other clothing attire scattered across your shared bedroom. You’ll tell him to stop acting like a pig and clean up after himself, but it’ll go in one ear and straight out the other.
• Toji has such a praise kink. Whenever the words “good boy” or any other compliment leaves your pretty lips, it’s like he can’t think for himself anymore.
• He loves, loves, loves, having sex in missionary position with you. He loves being so close to you, being able to smell your special scent, and whisper in your ears, “Look how—fuck—look how messy this pretty pussy is for me, ma.”
“Y’r taking my cock so fucking well, baby.”
“Love ya so fucking much, y’know that? Hah—shit—Yeah, y’know that.” while he’s absolutely demolishing your insides. Don’t get him wrong, the man loves tons of sex positions, but missionary will always be his first pick.
• He may not look the part, but Toji whimpers and moans like crazy when he’s about to cum. “Hnghh—ooohhhh—fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—“
• When he cums, expect a bunch of it. It’s so much that it leaks out of your throbbing cunt and onto the light pink bed sheets, leaving a puddle.
• His kind of aftercare would be licking your clit, ridding it of any leftover cum. Afterwards, he’d give you a water bottle and massage any aching body parts. He’d then order some of your favorite take out and you’d both eat it together while watching some corny dad show he found on tv.
Shiu Kong
• You have this man wrapped around your pretty finger. He’ll spoil you rotten. He couldn’t possibly think of saying no to his princess, especially when he has the money to get you whatever you want.
• You will never find yourself in a position where you need to lift a finger whenever he’s around. You’ll get nothing but royalty treatment.
• Shiu absolutely hates it whenever you’re around Toji. He knows Toji wouldn’t do anything, but seeing you even look at him gets on his nerves.
• You wake up to the smell of some freshly cooked bacon and eggs (or whatever else you’d favor) due to him. His day will literally be ruined if he isn’t able to cook for you.
• Whenever you want your hair and nails done, Shiu will give you the money, plus a little extra so you can get yourself something nice.
• Your car will definitely end up smelling like his cigarettes mixed with his signature cologne after a while.
• You practically beg him to teach you a few words in Korean (mostly curse words) since you claims he sounds so sexy speaking it.
“Come onnnnnn,” you whine, following Shiu around the house as he carries the clean laundry in a basket. “Just one word, please?”
“I’ve already said a word, princess, don’t you remember that?” He stops in his tracks and turns to face you.
“Okay—well—one more!” you pout and cross your arms.
“Don’t do that,” Shiu chuckles, then sighs contently. “How could I ever say no to you, beautiful?” Your eyes light up and a big smile is displayed on your face.
“사랑해요, 예쁜.” He whispers in your ear and leaves a kiss on your cheek.
“What’s that mean??”
“It means I love you, pretty.” He cups your face with two hands. You can’t help but giggle and leave a kiss on his lips.
• Like Kento, Shiu wouldn’t call you by your name at all. He hasn’t called you by your name ever since you two first met. Sometimes you wonder if he even knows your name (he does). The names he calls you are: Doll face, love, princess, pretty, beautiful, bunny (Ex. “Did y’want this necklace, princess?” “Let’s go out to eat, doll face.” “You can take it, bunny, can’t you? Yes you can.”).
• Every morning, his head is found in between your legs, licking and sucking at your clit. Every time you try to push his head away due to overstimulation, he says “Come on, pretty, m’just eating some breakfast, gimmie a minute.”
• This man is extremely weak for head. His breathy moans only get louder as he’s getting closer and closer to his climax. “Ohh f-fuck—my love—s-s’close—”
“Y’r sucking s’good pretty—mmh—so fucking good-”
• He’ll immediately return the favor by stuffing your sobbing pussy with his fat cock, thrusting in an unforgiving pace. “H-Hah—you h-hear that? Y’hear how she’s—shit—purring for me l-love?”
“I know you can take it bunny, I know you can—ooohhh ffffuckkkk-”
• After he’s done with you, he kisses your forehead and wipes you down with a warm damp towel. He then massages your plump thighs and kisses your face a bit more. When you’re finally asleep, he goes out to your balcony for a quick smoke.
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True Story- so back in 1705, the not yet famous composer JS Bach wanted to go see a performance by one of his idols, the organist/composer Dietrich Buxtehude. He probably only knew about his music from written manuscripts, so he would only be able to listen to the music by reading and playing it himself or getting someone else to. The only issue was that Buxtehude was working in a town in Northern Germany some 300 miles away from the town Bach was working in. Not an easy journey, especially before the industrial revolution, but Bach was determined to make it. So he calls out of work for the next month and starts walking. On his own. For 12 (twelve) days. He gets there and goes to a bunch of concerts and writes down a lot of the music he hears to take home with him. He has such a good time, in fact, that he decides to stay there for another 2 months. He left his post in October of that year, and returned in February of the following year.
Needless to say his employers were not happy. Bach was the church organist in the town of Arnstadt, and if you know anything about church music you know the end of the year isn't exactly the best time to disappear. But ultimately wasn't fired, there weren't many people willing or able to replace him.
Moral of the story: we currently live at a time where you can listen to basically anything you can think of without leaving your home. it's one of the greatest things humanity has ever accomplished. Never take it for granted.
sometimes I think too hard about like. how the ability to record audio fundamentally changed how humans interact with music. can you imagine if the only time you ever heard music in your whole life was when you or another human being in your actual physical presence decided to create it. and 99.99% of the time that person was not a professional but just like your wife or your dad or your co-worker or church choir singing or playing whatever they happened to know. i honestly don't think we can fathom it
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I like to think that Worst Logan adores Laura. Here is this mutant, who came from his DNA, who has good in her. His DNA has good in it, something good came from him. Maybe not him-him, the other Logan him, but still him. After all the bad he's done, here's her, here's his Laura. A part of him who saw the good in him! Part of his DNA thinks he can do good. That yeah, he's not the right guy, but he does the right thing when then time comes. He wants to be a better person, for her.
I fully believe that Worst Logan would treat her better then OG Logan. OG Logan was dying, had no hope, when Laura came around. Worst Logan now has hope, hope that he can be better. And because of that hope, he'll do everything to keep that hope alive in Laura. He'll be there when she needs him, he'll go through hell and keep living for her. Let him get chest fuck by a thousand tree, his batteries wont give up any time soon because he has someone to live for.
If she wants to be an X-Men, he'll do everything in his power to make that come true.
If she wants the quiet life of a farm, he'll make sure she gets the best damn farm.
Only downside to this, is he puts so much faith in her idea of him, if she's mad at him it kills him inside.
She's 18-19ish, she probably doesn't want to spend all her time with him, and get pissed off at his over protectiveness. When this happens he's hitting the bottle even worse, to the point Wade is worried for his liver. Until she comes around again.
They both need to talk shit out, but they'll fight claws to claws then talk about feelings.
I just need best dad Logan tbh-
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Thoughts on Sonic 3!
On December 10th, 2018, I was on the last day of a trip to Milwaukee. The night before, I'd attended the wedding of one of my best friends, Jake, who I've known since high school. Even though half of us were sick the whole trip, it was a great time. Derek had asked the wedding DJ to play "One Week" as the first request of the night, and proceeded to lip sync the entire song on the dance floor. On that cold winter morning in a hotel room hundreds of miles from home, Derek and I groggily checked Twitter on our phones and saw the shocking news: Paramount had teased the design for Sonic from their upcoming live action film. Even in silhouette, the shape of his face and the realistic curvature of his limbs made him look like a grotesque little homunculus. This movie was going to suck.
Six years later, I've now seen the third entry in what's become a hugely successful Sonic film franchise. It features Keanu Reeves as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog in a fairly faithful adaptation of his story from Sonic Adventure 2. At the time of writing, it currently sits at a whopping 86% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, vying for the title of the best-reviewed theatrically released video game movie of all time. Critics are saying nice things about the emotional journey of Shadow the Hedgehog. Never in a million years did I think I'd see this day.
I, too, have now seen this movie, and... yeah, it's pretty good.
I'm gonna get deep into spoilers here, so I'll just say up front that I liked the movie. It feels like just about the best possible execution of this version of Sonic. But that's also damning it with faint praise, depending on who you ask.
If you're a fan of the games who didn't like the second movie, you probably won't get much out of this one, either, unless you just really love Shadow so much that nothing else in the movie matters to you. It doesn't reinvent the wheel for this film series. It's still got a heaping helping of broad comedy, cheap pop culture references, bad one-liners, and characterization that diverges greatly from the source material. This is not high art, nor is it a direct adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2. If you're the kind of person who hates this portrayal of Sonic and Eggman, or a lore nerd who'll hate that they let Shadow do Chaos Control without an Emerald, then just don't bother with this.
On the other hand, if you did enjoy the last movie, then you'll probably have a fun time here, too. Shadow is very cool. The action is the best it's ever been. There's a bit more focus on characters from the games, and less on human characters invented for the movies—with the exception of Agent Stone, who's in this a lot because everyone likes him. There's a lot of SA2 fanservice. They even play "Live and Learn." It's a fun time! Be sure to stick around through the end credits.
And now, to dig deeper, let's get into the spoilers! I'm gonna jump around a lot and talk about different aspects of the movie, spoiling everything along the way.
Shadow and his reams of lore
Here's the main thing you came for: Shadow is great in this! They really did him justice. Keanu Reeves is extremely solid in the role. He can be a bit flat as an actor sometimes, but I think he did well here. He can be tough and menacing, but he can also be earnest and emotionally vulnerable. Good casting call. Excited at the prospect of seeing more of him in the future.
Really, as a Sonic Lore Nerd I'm most interested in discussing the changes they made to Shadow's backstory. I'm sure there will be many fans upset with the changes, but for the sake of streamlining a complicated backstory that was subject to a bunch of retcons and multiple layers of amnesia and fitting it into a 110-minute movie, I think they generally made smart choices.
For one, Gerald didn't create Shadow using Black Arms DNA, because Gerald didn't create Shadow at all! Instead, Shadow arrived on Earth inside a meteor, and Gerald was merely the prominent GUN scientist who studied him after he was captured. (That meteor does have very strong Black Arms vibes, though, so I wouldn't rule out the possibility of them exploring that stuff in the future.) This simplifies things a lot and allows Shadow to be a direct foil for Sonic, kind of a version of our hero who was treated as a lab rat and lost the only human he considered family instead of finding happiness like Sonic has. Then later Shadow hurts Tom and Sonic wants revenge, and it mirrors Shadow's feelings about Maria, and after they fight they can empathize with each other over this, Shadow sees the error of his ways and helps save the world, yada yada yada. You get it. People predicted 95% of this movie's plot from the trailers, but it's effective.
Likewise, all of the stuff about creating Shadow as the ultimate life form who's immune to all disease to cure Maria's illness is completely cut out. Shadow's still called the ultimate life form, but he's treated as more of an energy source than a genetic research project here, playing off of the stuff about Eggman wanting to harness Sonic's natural Chaos Energy in the movies. The original intent behind the ultimate life form project was always hard to explain in the games and doesn't even come up that much, so I don't blame them for cutting it.
Because Gerald isn't doing genetic experiments and creating artificial life, the Biolizard also doesn't exist. It does, however, appear in an old monster movie Shadow and Maria watch in a montage, with Shadow later commenting that he worries he's a monster like the one he saw in the movie. That's a clever way to include it, I think.
The ARK sort of exists. There was no space colony back in the '70s, all of the events of Shadow's flashbacks just took place at a secret GUN base on Earth. Fair enough for a version of the story ostensibly set in the real world. The big space laser in the third act of the film is obviously supposed to evoke the ARK, but it's referred to as simply the Eclipse Cannon. It's still not a full-blown space colony, just a weapon of mass destruction Gerald designed for GUN in exchange for his release (while also secretly planning to use it to blow up the planet in an act of revenge). I am, however, pleased to report that the Eclipse Cannon still has a giant Eggman face on it.
And as for Maria: I like her in this! She's obviously not going to get a ton of screentime, and she's always going to be a very straightforward character, but she's more playful and lively here. She teases Shadow for being grumpy and plays with him a lot. She feels less like this perfect embodiment of everything good and pure in the world and more like an actual kid. She's still not a complex character, but it works.
And the most important question: do they show a child getting shot and killed by the military? The answer is almost. In the flashback, GUN soldiers chase Maria, Shadow, and Gerald and ready their guns, but the young Commander Walters (who's in his 20s rather than being a kid) grabs them and tries to stop them from firing on a child. In the chaos, a soldier fires, missing Maria but hitting a generator that then blows up and kills Maria. So, y'know, close enough I suppose.
So, yes, many of the details change here, but they captured the gist of Shadow's story from SA2. The emotional core is there. I will say, though, I almost feel like Shadow isn't in this movie as much as I thought he'd be? I think he's used effectively in all of his scenes, and they make room for his backstory, and BOY does he get to kick ass in his fights, but for much of the middle part of the movie he's overshadowed by Ivo and Gerald. Though this might be a compromise to leave more screentime for...
Tails and Knuckles
I'm relieved to report that Tails and Knuckles both get a good amount of cool stuff to do in this! They don't feel like an afterthought.
I was worried that Tails in particular would completely fall by the wayside, since even his debut movie didn't entirely know what to do with him. But he's good here. He pretty much just feels like the Tails from the games at this point, especially since they dropped that fawning admiration he had for Sonic with that running gag of him going "Only Sonic the Hedgehog could do that!" He often chimes in as the one who wants Team Sonic to stick together when Sonic and Knuckles bicker. He particularly gets to shine in the Mission Impossible-inspired heist sequence at the GUN headquarters in London that serves as the climax of the second act, which feels like it was tailor made to let him shine as the tech guy of the team. He also gets several opportunities to swoop in and catch someone for a save in an action scene. He's good in this!
Knuckles is... fine. He's definitely fallen into the role of the comic relief dumb bruiser since joining the good guys, but he's at least a little better than he was in his own streaming show. The jokes lean more into him just being really brash about his strength and skill, rather than him being this archaic warrior who doesn't understand anything about the modern world. He also gets a few more serious bits in the back third of the movie where he gets to shine a little more, so overall it evens out to him being fine. They could've done way worse.
As for the relevance of the Knuckles show: Knuckles is now said to be the guardian of the Master Emerald, like in the games, though with no Angel Island this amounts to him hiding it somewhere for safekeeping. It's eventually revealed that he just gave it to Wade, who gets exactly one scene (sorry, Wade-heads) for a joke about him using the Master Emerald as a hockey puck. So, the miniseries explained why Knuckles has a connection with Wade. That's it! Also I think Knuckles might use the Flames of Disaster a bit in fights, but they never called the technique out by name, so I never really thought about it. So, yeah, the six-episode streaming miniseries about Wade bowling has zero meaningful relevance to the Shadow movie. Who could have seen this coming?
Miscellaneous humans
For that matter, the human supporting cast is MASSIVELY downplayed in this one. Tom and Maddie are there for two key sequences (the beginning of the movie and the GUN HQ heist), but otherwise they disappear for long stretches of the movie. They don't go to Japan in act I, nor do they go to space in act III, and there's no subplot for them during those periods, either. There's nothing like the wedding subplot in Sonic 2 where they'd constantly cut back to Hawaii for comic relief with the humans and only reveal why this was relevant to the plot near the end. (There's also no random dance battle in Siberia.) If a human character is here, it's because they have something to contribute to the plot right away. Most people will probably consider this an improvement, and I'd certainly say it makes for a much tighter script, though I have to remind everyone that I thought the wedding being a GUN sting operation was such a funny twist that I'm a defender of the Hawaii subplot.
On the subject of Tom, something funny I've noticed is that they've just completely downplayed the fact that Tom and Wade are cops. Tom being a cop never comes up once. Wade being a cop only gets referenced via the fact that he's practicing hockey on the roof of the police station in his one scene, but he's not in uniform or anything. They clearly got the memo that we don't want Sonic to hang out with cops.
Here's something else funny: Rachel and Randall got character posters, but they're actually not in the movie! Not technically, anyway. During the heist sequence at GUN HQ, Tom and Maddie use some gadgets Tails invented to holographically disguise themselves as those other characters. But the real Rachel and Randall never show up in the flesh. It's a very odd way to shoehorn the actors into the movie. (Jojo is also absent. They did not give her Amy's role of being the girl who reminds Shadow of Maria. Instead they just let Sonic have the big heart to heart with Shadow that makes him switch sides.)
You know who IS in this movie? Krysten Ritter. Not as the voice of Rouge, as the fandom once hoped, but as a director for GUN. She gets like three scenes and she feels completely checked out the whole time. Can't say I blame her! She's not really a character, just a plot necessity. Commander Walters dies in Japan but gives Sonic one of two keycards needed to activate the Eclipse Cannon, and then Ritter's character assumes Sonic stole it and labels him a bad guy. So that's why they have to break into GUN HQ in the second act instead of just talking things out with them. Still, I am at least relieved that Sonic doesn't work with GUN for most of the movie.
I gotta be honest: when Walters pulled a credit card-shaped object out of his pocket, I thought he was about to give Sonic another Olive Garden gift card as his final act before dying. Part of me wishes that happened.
The supporting human character in this who really gets to shine is Agent Stone, which I'm sure most fans will agree was the correct choice. There's a LOT of Agent Stone in this. He's good. I don't have much to say about him, but he's fun as usual.
But, of course, the ones who steal the show are Jim Carrey, and his costar Jim Carrey.
The Robotniks
I've gone back and forth on whether or not I can actually see movie Robotnik as Robotnik. I think with this third and final entry in the Jim Carrey Robotnik Trilogy, I've landed on... yeah, that's just Jim Carrey playing a Jim Carrey character. He's absolutely having fun with the role, and I enjoyed watching him, but I think a lot of that comes down to the fact that I'm a millennial who grew up watching Jim Carrey movies. If you didn't like him before, this movie will probably be nails on a chalkboard to you, because now there are two of him.
Ivo's arc here leans very heavily into the fact that he grew up as an orphan and never knew his family, a thing offhandedly mentioned in the first movie that's never been a thing for any other version of the character. Here, he learns that he has a living grandfather who's also a mad scientist, and it feels like a hole in his heart has been filled. It certainly makes sense for a place to take this version of the character, and it fits with the movie's themes of finding and losing family, but the cartoonish, childlike affection Ivo feels towards Gerald and all the scenes of them frolicking and dancing together have basically nothing to do with the characters from the games. He's a fun villain for this movie, but he's overwhelmingly used as comic relief this time rather than as a serious threat. He doesn't particularly feel like Sega's Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the arch nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog who'd take over the world with an army of robots and a fleet of airships in the span of a day if Sonic wasn't around to stop him. He's a guy who lives in a big crab robot and has some drones. He has more in common with Carrey's depictions of the Grinch or the Riddler or Count Olaf than Dr. Eggman. Though he does, at least, finally get his outfit from the games by the end of the movie. So that's something. And also he's in a fat suit now. They only make jokes at the expense of his weight a little. Hooray...?
Gerald, meanwhile, is... largely the same character as movie Eggman, but older, so they can make jokes about him having saggy flesh and smelling funny and needing dentures. (Also, his voice kind of sounds like Homer Simpson sometimes?) To his credit, Carrey absolutely nails the handful of more serious scenes Gerald gets, whether it's Maria's death or his sinister turn when he reveals that he actually wants to destroy the Earth. But then it's right back to goofs about there being two of the same guy. Even the final battle features a lot of slapstick shenanigans with the two Robotniks fighting each other. I was able to enjoy the absurdity of it all, but if the humor doesn't land for you the dual Jim Carrey schtick is a hell of a lot of the movie. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more Gerald than Shadow in the movie, when you go and tally up their screentime. I was able to enjoy the sheer absurdity of it, but your mileage will vary.
I will, however, say that the split screen stuff they do with the two Carreys is EXTREMELY impressive, from a filmmaking perspective. They were absolutely flexing with their ability to pull the effect off. They don't rely on cheap tricks like cutting a lot, or having shot/reverse shot scenes where you're looking at the back of a body double's head. Instead they have a lot of long takes where the two Robotniks are talking to each other, you can see both of their faces, and they'll even hug and touch each other a lot, and the whole time the conversation maintains a natural pace like it really is two actors playing off of each other. It's really well done. It's an incredibly silly idea, but boy did they commit to it.
Sonic
I've hardly said anything about Sonic himself in all of this. It's his movie, isn't it! Well... I don't know, he's fine.
I feel like movie Sonic is a known quantity at this point, and either you like this take on the character or you don't. There was some speculation early on that this was supposed to be a younger Sonic who would grow into being the character we know from the games and comics, the one who's still got lots of quips but is also kind of aloof and cool, a free spirit who goes where the wind takes him, a figure the other characters look up to. And... no, that didn't happen. Once again he gets more serious as the stakes are raised, and he's totally badass when he goes Super, but the rest of the time he's still a little goober with tons of generic one-liners who learns schmaltzy lessons about the importance of family. He's still constantly going to undercut the tension of most scenes by cracking a pop culture reference that will make the average American parent go "haha I've heard of that." I don't think they're ever gonna change that. I think this just what the writers think Sonic is like.
And, again, for what it is, it's fine. He's a little annoying. You already know how you feel about movie Sonic. This third entry won't change that. But they do, at least, have him say "Talk about low budget flights, no food or movies... I'm outta here!" before jumping out of a helicopter. As my thoughts on the climax will show, I am not immune to fanservice.
The climax
God, the climax is SOOOOO fucking good. It's fantastic. Easily the best action these movies have ever done.
Rather than saving Super Shadow for the team-up with Sonic at the end, they have both of them go Super to fight each other first, and they just go full DBZ with it, fighting across the entire planet. It absolutely rules. I think this is the new coolest fight the two of them have had in anything ever. And then they have to stop the Eclipse Cannon together, and sure, there's no Biolizard. But Gerald DOES release a swarm of GUN Hunter robots, and the ensuing space battle turns into some Gundam shit. It's good! It's so good!!! The movie's flaws kind of melt away for me here when I'm watching Super Shadow take out an army of robots with Chaos Spears on the big screen. What a timeline we're living in.
And yes, they play "Live and Learn." They had to. They knew the assignment. They actually play a slight remix, but it's still got the original vocals, so it's perfectly recognizable. Actually, the tune of the song is used as a leitmotif for Shadow throughout the movie, first introduced via an acoustic guitar version played by Maria, and I really love that. I've been begging these movies to use more music from the games the whole time, and I'm glad they finally did so here. (They also use the traditional level clear jingle early in the film, and Eggman's theme from SA2 is very briefly used as a ringtone.)
... Anyway, uh, meanwhile Eggman, Tails, and Knuckles straight up just kill Gerald to save the world? They unceremoniously knock him into an energy field at the end of their slapstick fight aboard the Eclipse Cannon and he disintegrates like he hit a bugzapper. It's over in an instant. It's not graphic or anything, but it's, like... I didn't expect them to show it, or for it to be such a casual murder! Eggman has one quip about it and then immediately moves on.
Shortly after this, Eggman and Shadow sacrifice themselves to stop the Eclipse Cannon. Shadow's sacrifice doesn't stick, obviously (he's revealed to be alive by the end of the second stinger—pretend to be shocked), but Eggman's probably dead dead. I seriously doubt Jim Carrey's gonna come out of retirement for these movies again. His final moments before the big explosion are also SO dragged out and belabored. He has a dramatic final line like ten times in a row. It really just feels like the series saying goodbye to Carrey. And, again, it feels like a fitting enough end for this Eggman's arc, but it's an odd adaptation of the character from the games.
And so, that's what we're left with. This is far from Sonic Adventure 2: The Movie. It's not that, though there are many, many references made to that game in particular. It's a sequel to the film Sonic the Hedgehog 2 that has a similar tone and style, but Shadow and Gerald are in it, and Shadow gets some really cool fights, and there's a liiiiiittle more focus on stuff from the games than last time, and the script's a little tighter. If that sounds fun to you, you will have fun with this. I know I did. If it doesn't, you're probably better off waiting for them to inevitably do an animated reboot whenever this live action series runs out of steam.
It hasn't quite run out of steam yet, though...
The post-credits scenes, and the future
One of the big questions going into this was: what's next? How do they top a Shadow movie with heavy Sonic Adventure 2 overtones, in terms of hype for the fans? How do you fill Eggman's shoes after Carrey retires, for real this time? There are still more fan favorite rival characters to get through, but how many movies in a row can they introduce a furry foe for Sonic who inevitably turns good and helps him stop a larger threat by the end? And when the hell are we gonna see the girls?
Well, we now have our answer, and it's one I'm cautiously excited for: a whole army of Metal Sonics, and Amy!
Yes, Amy! Finally!! It's an absolute crime that we've gone three whole movies and a streaming miniseries without including the female lead of the series. I've complained about this ad nauseum (and also the fact that they cut Rouge from the story). But at least now they're finally doing something about it.
But now the question is, how will they characterize Amy? Sega's struggled with her for years, and there's a million different directions you can take her. Her one scene here has her smashing a bunch of Metal Sonics and wearing a cloak for the sake of a dramatic reveal, which gives her the vibes of a mysterious, badass action girl. This is, of course, completely different from how Sonic and Amy met in the games. What will her personality be like? She doesn't speak here, so who will they get to play her? Where did she come from? Will she even have a crush on Sonic? All of these have yet to be determined. So, like, I'm hyped to finally see Amy, a character who should've been in the movies from the start, but they could so easily end up playing it safe with an incredibly boring girlboss version of Amy who's no fun at all. We'll have to wait and see.
(My prediction: they're going to try to cast either Zendaya or Ariana as Amy.)
Metal Sonic, likewise, is very exciting, and he looks perfect. He looks just like the design from the games. But the question is: what will they do with this army of Metals? Will they be lead by one main Metal Sonic, perhaps Neo Metal Sonic, who gets to be a proper bad guy? Will they take some cues from Sonic CD, Heroes, and the OVA, or do something completely original? Where did they come from? Were they activated as a failsafe after Eggman died? Did they and Amy come from some sort of bad future, riffing on Sonic CD's time travel? Will they explore the fact that Metal wants to be the one and only Sonic? Or will they just be an army of disposable robot grunts for Sonic and friends to mow down like it's a Dynasty Warriors game, while some other villain takes center stage?
It could go so many different ways, and some prospects are more exciting than others. I mean, the Knuckles show had endless possibilities for what it could do with him, and none of the options on my bingo card were "Pachacamac's ghost tells him to help Wade win a bowling tournament." And while I'm a sicko who thinks it's funny that the Knuckles show is what it is, forgive me for keeping my hype about Amy and Metal Sonic in check here until we learn more.
Regardless of what they do, it'll still be hard to top the hype of Shadow, and it'll be hard to fill Jim Carrey's shoes for general audiences. So despite this clear statement of intent, I have no idea what the future of this film franchise holds. But regardless of what they do, I can say one thing for certain: the kids in my theater were hyped as hell for it. They popped off over Metal Sonic, and they were screaming their heads off with excitement over Amy. I heard a teenage girl on the opposite end of my row of seats say "finally!" over Amy's reveal, verbalizing my exact thoughts. She also said that this movie was "peak," though it diverged from the games, and she hoped they'd do a movie with Silver and Blaze someday.
The kids are gonna be okay.
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Make it Special
violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
summary: vi's birthdays are usually quiet, but this year? the whole family is doing their best to make it special. (requested by twinklestarslight) warnings/themes: fluff, birthdays, found family, modern au words: 3.6k notes: THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY BUT BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS WOMAN!!
Vi's birthday was, like most of her other birthdays, uneventful. Vi tended to keep to herself. The day usually passed with more than a quiet “happy birthday” on everyone's lips. However, this year will be different. This year, Vi will find out just how loved she was and just how much she meant to the people she cared about.
“There's streamers in the cabinet, if you could help me hang those up,” Vander says, giving you a nod as you go to grab a chair to reach the ceiling. From there, you make yourself busy decorating—streamers along the walls, lanterns to dim the lights a bit.
“You think she'll like it?” Silco asks, leaning on the counter. He has a cigarette in his hand, but he's doing his best to keep the smoke away from everyone else. “Think she'll be mad?”
“I don't think she'll be mad,” you say, “she'll probably be shocked or confused, but not mad.”
Benzo is setting up the tables around the bar, taking chairs from the barstools and setting them around. He's been helping with decorations since Vander asked him, and he's been trying his hardest to keep the place neat. He even got a box of party hats, hoping to find a way to talk everyone into wearing one.
Claggor and Mylo are messing around with the music, trying to find a station that plays punk rock or heavy metal, which they know Vi likes. The first song that plays when they finally get the right station is punk rock, and the two look at each other, a smirk spreading on their faces.
Ekko is bringing down plates of food from the kitchen. There's cake, which Powder bakes earlier, sandwiches, cupcakes, and various snacks. Anything that can possibly satisfy any of Vi's cravings.
Sevika is at her usual spot by the bar. She's not doing much decorating wise, but she's there, and she's helping with the more heavy things like the tables and chairs.
Benzo nudges you when he's all set up, motioning over to the box of party hats. He's already put his own on. It's black and pink, with hearts on the sides. “You think I could get Vi to wear one?” he asks with a chuckle. “Or y'think she'd try to knock it offa my head?”
“I'll try to convince,” you say, putting down the streamers you just hung. “Maybe if we all wear one, it'll seem more welcoming.”
“Maybe she'll say yes,” Ekko says, passing by and stealing a chip off the plate on the table. “Not a guaranteed one, probably a ten percent chance.”
“But,” Claggor starts, walking to help Ekko with the food. “It is a small chance, so you might be able to get her with it,” he says. “She's a sucker for you.”
—
You still need to get Vi's birthday gift, which, admittedly, should've been done a lot earlier, but decorating the bar had come together so fast, you barely had enough time to think, let alone pick out something for Vi.
Now, you stand outside the animal shelter, shifting nervously as you look up at the sign. Vi has been thinking about getting a dog for a while now, and you know this shelter is one of her favorite places to visit, even though she has never gotten a dog of her own. Maybe it's time to change that.
You push the door open. The shelter is mostly empty at this hour, and you make your way towards the front.
The lady at the desk greets you with a smile. She's an older woman, and she's wearing a jacket with various cat hairs on it. “How can I help you?”
“I'm looking to adopt a dog, actually.”
“Oh, how nice,” the lady smiles, setting the paperwork she was working on aside and giving you her attention. “We have a lot of dogs available for adoption. Any breed you're looking for in particular?”
“Do you have any huskies for adoption right now?” You look around the shelter, trying to look for any cages that might have a dog inside.
The lady nods. “We do have a few, actually. Would you like to see them?” she asks, standing from her chair.
“I would, yes.”
She leads you down a hall that's lined with cages. Different breeds of dogs of different sizes and coat colors are barking and yelping when you walk by, trying to get your attention. if only you could adopt all of them. Impossible. But still, if you could, you would.
The lady leads you down another hallway after the first, and you stop in front of a cage. Two huskies. They're curled up together and asleep, but they lift their heads when they notice the two of you stop in front of them.
One of the huskies perks up, getting to its feet and moving closer, wagging its tail as it looks up at you with wide eyes. The other follows suit, looking up at you through squinted eyes, as if it has been woken up from a deep sleep.
“They're siblings,” the lady notes, crouching down to pet the closer of the two, smiling as it nudges her hand, tongue lolling out of its mouth. “They're still only pups, about one month old,” she continues. “A young couple dropped them off a week ago. They couldn't keep them. They didn't have the time for them anymore.”
It sucks, people giving up on animals like this. Huskies need a lot of care, a lot of attention, and a lot of time spent training. They're not dogs made to be stuck inside or alone for the whole day. You know most of the people who gave up huskies—or any dog for that matter—did it because they didn't know what they were doing. They couldn't take care of the dog, and they had to give them up. It's hard, for you and for the animal.
The lady continues to pet the puppy in front of you. “Are you thinking about adopting one of them?” she asks, looking up at you.
“They're siblings,” you repeat, looking down at the two dogs. They're still focused on you, wide eyes looking at you. And, god, that look. You can't leave just one, they'll miss each other, they're siblings. “I'll take both of them.”
“Oh.” It takes the lady a second to process that, but then she smiles, standing up to her full height again. “That's… nice of you to take siblings. Not many people want to take siblings,” she says, walking over to the cage door. “I'll get you the paperwork, it's in the back. Make yourself comfortable, they don't bite.”
She leaves you to the cage with the dogs, who seem to have gotten even more excited, their paws scraping against the cage as they stand on their hind legs, putting their front paws on the edge. They're both panting, their tongues lolling in the same way as their tails wag back and forth, hitting the side of the cage. The lady comes back quickly and pulls out a clipboard, setting it on a table outside the cage door.
The lady goes through a bit of paperwork with you, questions regarding whether or not you're able to actually take care of the dogs if you have the time and the money to take care of them. That sort of thing.
She talks to you a bit, gives you advice on how to take care of them, and then she gives you a crate, one for each of the dogs (but of course, you'll keep them in one crate, no reason to keep them separated), and now, with the crate in your hands and the dogs inside it, you're on your way back to Vander's bar.
You push the door of the bar open, hearing the quiet footsteps of everyone inside, the sound of the music turned off and silence having replaced it. You can hear Vander shushing everyone, and-
“HAPPY BIRTH-” the light snaps on suddenly, and they pause, looking you up and down with confusion... and the crate on your arms.
“...day?” Mylo continues, awkwardly.
Vander shakes his head. “So, it's not Vi,” he starts, walking closer to the crate. “What's in there?”
“It's for Vi,” you reply, holding the crate closer to your chest. “She's not here yet?”
“Nah,” Ekko answers. “She's still hanging out with Powder. We thought it's Vi when you entered though.”
—
Everyone has their own party hats. The last thing to be done is hide the gifts, and everyone does. Vander puts the presents in the back room. Everyone scrambles for their spots. Mylo, Claggor, and Ekko hide out near the table, while Silco, Sevika, and Benzo are next to Vander behind the counter.
You hear the door creak open, the sound of footsteps entering the bar.
“Thanks powder—oh god, it's dark.”
There's just a moment when everything is silent, the bar silent, and then the light snaps on—all the party supplies go off as everyone around the room yells, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Vander leads the chorus, with everyone jumping from their spots, some popping the confetti poppers they had, others just yelling the words.
Powder walks to the table, picking up the cake she made. Bright pink frosting and a plethora of multicolored icing dots decorate the cake. Everyone around screams and rushes towards Vi, pulling her in the middle to join them.
You grab another one of the party hats off the table, setting it atop Vi's head, your own hat still perfectly secure on your own. “Happy birthday,” you mutter, pecking a kiss on her cheek. She looks up at you with a smile that makes you melt. The others let out an OOOO sound, clearly trying to embarrass her.
Vi flushes, looking back and forth at everyone. She punches the nearest person (Mylo), telling them to “shut up.”
Vander walks up to her, pulling her into a hug and a pat on the back.
“Happy birthday,” Silco hums, giving her a nod, smirk sitting on his lips.
Everyone else joins in, pulling her into one large group hug, wishing her a happy birthday, and making remarks to tease her. Mylo is getting another punch to the arm.
Powder walks over, carefully making her way through everyone to stand in front of Vi, holding the cake in front of her with a grin. “Make a wish.”
Everyone else backs up some, giving her space to think of one. Vi looks around the room, looking each person in the room in the eyes, everyone who showed up for her, her family before her eyes land on you. When she turns back to the cake again, a smile tugs at her lips, and she blows out her candles.
The group cheers, and everyone smiles. Mylo and Claggor are both nudging each other and whispering to each other, grinning widely. Even Vander's eyes are a bit misty, but he blinks it away before Vi can notice, putting an arm around her shoulder.
“The cake better be good,” Mylo mutters, rubbing his hands together, wanting a piece of cake.
“Obviously,” Powder tells him, giving Mylo a dirty look. “I made it, the cake will be fine.” Powder sets the cake on the table, pushing it out of reach from Mylo, who tries to get a piece right then and there only to get his hand swatted at by Powder.
“Behave,” Silco scolds him. “It's her birthday, not yours.”
Mylo groans. Vander pulls out the cake knife, looking at Vi. “It's your birthday, you get to cut the cake first.”
Vi takes the knife from him, walking forward and staring at the cake. It's a pretty big cake, enough to feed everyone.
Mylo stands behind her with his mouth practically watering, looking over her shoulder and trying to get a good look at the cake itself, ignoring everyone's protests and telling him to stop breathing down her neck. Everyone crowds behind Vi as she starts cutting the cake, with Mylo making a comment about wanting bigger pieces than everyone else, which he gets a quick shove and a scolding from everyone.
Eventually, after a bit of bickering, the cake is cut up and everyone gets their piece, save for Mylo, who only gets a small slice. “And you get what you asked for,” Vander says, smirking at his pouting face.
Everyone starts eating their piece of cake, complimenting Powder on how it turned out. It's delicious, of course, and the first slice is always the best. Vi sits beside you as she eats, and she nudges you with her shoulder. When you look at her, there's a forkful of cake up to your lips. “Say ahh,” she teases. You can hear Mylo fake gagging.
“I already have,” you hold up your plate as well as the fork still filled with cake.
“Still,” she says. “Pretty please?” she presses, pushing the fork closer to your lips. You can hear Mylo fake gag again, Powder telling him to shut up.
You open your mouth and let her feed you the cake. She waits until you swallow it before setting the fork aside, and she watches to make sure you like it as you chew.
“Ahhhh,” Mylo mocks. Powder kicks his shin, causing Mylo to yelp.
“It's good,” you hum, earning a smile from Vi.
The conversation continues around you, and while everyone else talks and eats, Vi pulls you closer to her, putting an arm around you and resting her head on your shoulder while listening to everyone, her thumb rubbing against your side.
Mylo and Claggor are now bickering, and you can never really tell over what, so you don't question it. It's not your business either way, and you don't care all too much. Silco is watching the two bicker, rubbing his temple, and Benzo is eating his cake, nodding along. Sevika is watching Mylo and Claggor fight, a smirk on her lips.
Vi absentmindedly traces her finger on your forearm, the cake in her other hand long forgotten.
Everyone continues to eat, and the cake gets half eaten until everyone is satisfied and full. Mylo is complaining that he should've gotten more cake, Powder tells him again to shut up because it wasn't his cake to begin with, and Vander is trying his hardest to keep the peace.
Vi pulls away from you as Silco clears his throat, gathering everyone's attention. “Alright,” he starts. “Who wants to give something to Vi first?”
Everyone looks around at each other, as if trying to figure out who should go first. Claggor nudges Mylo into motion, and the two start to banter while Vander walks over to Vi with a box, setting it on the table in front of her.
Vi looks at the box, eyes trailing over the wrapping paper, and then backs up at Vander before taking the box delicately from the table. She takes the time to slowly unwrap it, not tearing into it too quickly, instead slowly taking the wrapping paper off one corner at a time.
Once she gets the paper off, she starts opening up the box, taking the lid off, and looking inside at the contents inside of it. It's a framed picture of the two of you. The picture is of a Christmas party with everyone at the Last Drop. All grouped up in the picture, surrounding her with smiles, and Vi has her arm wrapped around you, smiling as well.
“Oh,” she starts, trailing her finger down the glass, pausing to tap on your face in the photo. “This is amazing.”
“There's more,” Vander says, “look at the back.”
In the back of the frame, Vi finds a picture. She pauses when she sees herself, Powder, and her parents. Her eyes linger, fingers stroking the picture. She's so much younger, so much smaller. They are smiling so wide as if they didn't know how things would change soon.
Powder sits down beside her. She rests her head on Vi's shoulder, watching her look at the photo, and she reaches out to take Vi's free hand, squeezing it in support.
Vi's eyes are glossy as she looks up, a faint smile on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbles, looking back down at the photo in her hand and at the faces of her parents. “This really means a lot.”
Vander nods, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I know you miss them,” he murmurs, low enough that it's just the two of them. “Thought you might like that.”
“We all love you, Vi,” Powder says, squeezing her hand.
“Yeah,” Mylo agrees. “You're stuck with us forever, don't forget that.” It earns him a jab in the side from Claggor and a look from Silco, but Vi snorts at him.
—
Everyone else has given Vi their presents. Some smaller, more simple, some more pricey than others.
Silco gifted her a few bottles of alcohol, with the advice not to drink it all in one go.
Mylo gave her a new set of punching gloves that he saved up for, black and pink with ‘VI’ on the wrist.
Claggor gave a new brass knuckle set, along with a nice pair of red leather gloves and a new beanie for the winter, since he had noticed hers was old and falling apart.
Sevika gave a new leather jacket, black and lined with deep red, with silver zippers. She puts it on right away, getting some “ooo's” and “ah's” from everyone upon seeing how she looks with it on.
Benzo brought her a blanket. He explained that he didn't know what to get her, so he walked into the store and looked for the softest blanket they had, thinking it was the only thing that made the most sense.
Ekko gave her a painting. On it was a detailed, almost perfect looking Vi, complete with her tattoos and everything.
Powder gave a whole handmade care package. She made her favorite snacks, made her a book full of scrapbooking items and stickers, made her a bracelet with a few different colored beads, and made a cute mini scrapbook of the two of them and everyone else together. She got a few tears for that one and a tight hug.
Now, there's only one gift left for Vi. You hold the crate in your hands, the crate that holds the two sibling huskies.
The dogs are finally awake and squirming around inside, making noises as they try to greet everyone. You set the crate on the floor and let the pups run out, watching Vi stand up to come over to see the dogs. She kneels down to pet them, scratching behind both of their ears. She smiles as tears form in the corners of her eyes. She scoops both up into her arms, petting its fur and burying her face in its fur, just to take in the fact that she finally has a dog herself, and it's with her favorite person.
Powder grins. “Can I hold the other one?” she asks, and Vi nods her head, adjusting the dog in her arms to give Powder a better opening, allowing her to scoop the other one up, which starts nuzzling against her hand.
Vi turns to look at you. “Do they have names?” She strokes the puppy's fur.
“They do not,” you reply. “I figured you should be the one to name them.”
“I'll have to think of a good one.” She looks back down at the pup in her arms. “Maybe a matching name for them?”
“What about Mylo and Milo?” Mylo suggests, earning another elbow from Claggor.
“Ha ha,” Vi jokes back. “No.”
“That's so corny,” Powder mumbles. “How about a matching 'M' name?” Powder suggests. “like Mandy and Mack.”
“A dog should have a more badass name like Spike!” Mylo says.
Everyone throws out ideas. Some are better than others. Some are more serious, some are funnier, but none of them really stick. Vi listens to everyone's ideas, occasionally humming or shaking her head “no” to the suggestion.
Mylo even suggests one named “Mylo Junior” in a desperate attempt to include his own name, but gets shut down once more. Powder is getting annoyed, and even Ekko is trying to get Mylo to stop.
Powder keeps suggesting names, and while there are some that seem like good suggestions, Vi doesn't quite agree with them. Claggor throws out a few names, each also being denied, though they are much better than the names Mylo suggested. Sevika even pitches in, the names that she suggests are a lot more serious and more mature sounding.
In the end, Vi still doesn't feel 100% on any of the names that have been thrown out, until she looks back up at you. “Any ideas? You haven't said anything.”
You look over at the dog on Vi's arm and the one on Powder's, looking back at your girlfriend. You're silent for a second before you suggest, “Bacon and Biscuit?”
“Bacon and Biscuit?” Mylo groans.
Sevika gives him a look, her eyebrows raised. “Odd but interesting.”
“It's kind of cute,” Benzo agrees.
“It suits them, actually,” Silco nods next to him.
Vi thinks about it, looking at the pups as if considering the name. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she says, testing out the sound of it. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats, and a smile creeps on her lips. “You guys like that?” she asks the dogs, as if expecting them to answer her.
Everyone nods their heads, even if they find it corny, it suits the puppies—or at least it suits them at that moment.
“Bacon and Biscuit,” Powder coos, scratching one of the dogs behind the ear.
“It's not the worst thing we've heard,” Mylo admits. “But Mylo Jr. is way better,” and this earns him a punch in the arm again.
She looks back up at you. “I love it,” she says, looking back down at the dogs. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats once more, loving the way it sounds.
“The names are set, then,” Vander says. “Now that that's settled, let's continue with the birthday party, shall we?”
notes: i do NOT know how to name a pet so....
#arcane#vi#arcane vi#vi arcane#violet arcane#arcane violet#arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#vi x reader#vi x female reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi imagines#violet x reader#fluff#birthdays#happy birthday RAAAAAAAAAAAhh#found family
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CHAPTER 1
series masterlist
Pairing: OT8 x reader
Word Count: 3,9k
Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader
Summery: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..
‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.
Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago.
‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’
Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake.
Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’
‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’
‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better.
You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately.
‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know.
‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen.
‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’
You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you.
Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’
Damnit. That actually made sense.
‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t.
‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’
That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming.
‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’
Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she?
‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’
‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart.
Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’
You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy.
Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you.
‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you.
‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder.
‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words.
‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’
Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest.
‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’
‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’
‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’
Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building.
‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you.
‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’
‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’
‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’
Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women.
‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’
‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’
Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards?
‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously.
‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you.
‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’
‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles.
You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music.
****
You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it.
‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’
Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it.
‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office.
Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word.
‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm.
‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly.
Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working.
‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office.
‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards.
Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’
‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair.
You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small.
The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him.
‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours.
Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking?
‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’
You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble.
Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman.
‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’
One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough.
‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles.
‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards.
‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen.
It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’
You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.
‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you.
‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks.
‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out.
He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well.
‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says.
‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins.
It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow.
‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’
‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness.
So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later.
‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’
Fuck. Of course he is.
‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’
‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks.
Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one.
Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else.
‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are.
Oh just you wait and see buddy.
‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him.
Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’
You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket.
‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’
‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground.
Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways.
‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you.
Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen.
‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them.
‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’
You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you.
‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’
‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you.
You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same.
He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’
His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended.
‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man.
You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’
‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’
‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’
Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you.
‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside.
Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all.
‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’
‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look.
It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind.
‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him.
‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’
‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’
‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’
‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’
Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’
‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’
‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’
‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door.
‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’
Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’
‘I guess,’ you mumble.
‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’
You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer.
****
About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right.
‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris.
‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work.
‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again.
If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine.
‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’
‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’
Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too?
‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen.
‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’
Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands.
‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’
‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’
‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists.
‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him.
‘You knew about this?’
‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes.
You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now.
‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath.
This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will.
‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you.
Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck.
‘Just say it already.’
‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it.
Oh hell no.
a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.
Please let me know your thoughts <3
taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko
#stray kids fanfic#ot8 x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#ot8 bodyguard au#stray kids fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#hyunjin x reader#jeongin x reader#changbin x reader#seungmin x reader#idol!reader#chancloud8 writes
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