#and I was like haha yeah I have weird dreams

[myrabbitistrying2killme]

This was my fucking dream that I summbitted anyways TODAY I LEARNED YAHOO OWNS TUMBLR. I WAS NOT AWARE. WHAT THE FUCK.

I got taken to bad child clown school and when I came back my high school had been taken over by Yahoo. It was still a normal high school, just, Yahoo brand high school. Also, it was bright blue.

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm pretty sure at this point the person that has appeared the most in my dreams/nightmares (apart from people I actually know/used to know in real life) is Jarvis Johnson. it happens a lot, he'll just randomly show up all the time. like last night he was in a (particularly gruesome and unpleasant) nightmare that I had. didn't make any sense but it was nice to get a break for a second :)

[neonhairspray]

*-*-*

[keferon]

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.”

[adrienneleclerc]

Slam the Door

Summary: Where Y/N slams the door on her boyfriend’s car to see how he would react.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this includes Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Max Verstappen, and Carlos Sainz Jr. since I am writing about them now

Charles Leclerc

Y/N and Charles were in the gas station. He filled up the car and got back in the car to get his wallet.

“Hey, I can go in pay for it, I kinda wanted some chips and a soda.” Y/N said.

“Yeah sure, Mon coeur, here’s my wallet.” Charles said, sitting fully in the car, handing his wallet to Y/N.

“Thanks, muñeco.” Y/N said, before slamming the door. Charles was startled, his face like when he hit the camera in Australia.

“What was that about.” Charles wondered out loud. “Did I do something? I don’t think I did anything, can’t be her period, she would have told me, can’t be her birthday, not our anniversary, what happened?” He could think about dome thing else since Y/N got in the car. “Why did you slam my door?” Charles asked

“What?” Y/N asked, opening her bag of chips.

“Why did you slam my door? Did I do something to upset you, or…?” Charles asked, starting his car.

“What? Of course not, it’s just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.

“Oh, okay, but did you have to slam the door so hard, the car actually shook, Mon ange.” Charles said, Y/N laughed.

“Sorry, muñeco, I didn’t mean to. But the car is okay.” Y/N said.

Lando Norris

Y/N and Lando were leaving the restaurant, they got into his car, Y/N looked in her purse.

“La concha de su madre, I left my ID at the restaurant, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.

“Of course, baby, be safe.” Lando said.

“I will.” Y/N said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Lando was in shock, rolled down his window, honked his horn to make Y/N turn around, and yelled.

“You muppet! Were you trying to cause a mini earthquake?” Lando shouted and Y/N was bent over, laughing. “What are you laughing about? I’m pretty sure my phone fell in between the seats.”

“Sorry, fresita, it’s was a TikTok prank.” Y/N said, walking back to the car and showing him her ID.

“Why can’t you be one of those girls who pulls the penal where they walk in on their boyfriends naked? I’d really like that one.” Lando said, starting the car to go home:

“Because that’s not a prank, Lando, that’s your dream come true.” Y/N said and Lando laughed

“Well you’re not wrong.” Lando replied. “Can you help me look for my phone when we make it home?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Logan Sargeant

Y/N and Logan were going to leave the parking lot when.

“Shit, forgot my phone upstairs, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.

“Alright.” Logan said. Y/N slammed the door and Logan started looking around the car and looked at Y/N through the windshield. “The fuck was that about.” Y/N walked back to the car with her phone in hand. She got into the car and Logan was staring at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N asked.

“Do you love me?” Logan asked.

“Of course I do.” Y/N said.

“Then why did you slam my door? It felt like that scene in Jurassic Park where the dinosaurs shook the whole ground.” Logan said and Y/N laughed.

“Don’t be dramatic, I barely slammed the door.” Y/N said.

“Im pretty sure there is a crack in window.” Logan said, pointing to the passenger side window.

“Haha, it was a TikTok prank, let’s go.” Y/N said.

Oscar Piastri

Oscar and Y/N were putting groceries in the trunk.

“Tiburóncin, can you start the car and turn on the A/C? I want the freezer meals to stay cool.” Y/N said.

“Sure, darling.” Oscar said, kissing Y/N before he enters the car and did as he was told. Y/N finished putting groceries away. Y/N opened the passenger door.

“Im gonna our the cart away, okay?” Y/N said before slamming the door to put the cart back. Oscar just blinked.

“That was weird.” Oscar said, Y/N got back into the car. “Is there any particular reason why you slammed my door? I told you, it’s not the store’s fault they don’t carry your pumpkin seeds.” Oscar said.

“First; they all carry pumpkin seeds, they just carry them raw or dry roasted and salted. Why the hell are there never pumpkin seeds dry roasted in their shells? Anyway, it was just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.

“Babe, this is my company car, you can’t just slam the door.” Oscar said.

“Sorry, tiburóncin, let’s go home before our groceries start to melt.” Y/N said.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis and Y/N were in the parking lot of the restaurant.

“Okay, loser has to pick it up.” Y/N said.

“No way, I picked up food last time, it’s your turn.” Lewis said.

“Fine, give me money to pay for the food.” Y/N said, holding out her hand. Lewis handed her over his wallet. “Thank you, cariño.” Y/N said and slammed the door when she left. Lewis rolled down his window and honked his horn, causing Y/N to turn. Lewis poked his head out the window.

“Did you seriously slam my door because I made you pick up the food?” Lewis asked. “I didn’t know you were so bratty!” Lewis shouted

“You can’t shout that shit out, sir Lewis!” Y/N shouted back

“Watch me! Pick up the food, the sooner we get it, the sooner I’ll fuck the best out of you!” Lewis yelled.

“Dude!” Y/N yelled before entering the restaurant, Lewis winked and blew her a kiss before pulling his head back in. Y/N came back. “I have the food and just for the record, I wasn’t being a brat.”

“Then why did you slam the door?” Lewis asked.

“TikTok prank, you know, it’s a Gen Z, think, you wouldn’t know since you’re a millennial.” Y/N teased.

“You’re trying to call me old?” Lewis asked

“Not trying, I am calling you old. Now I’m being a brat.” Y/N said.

“Oh you’re getting it when we get home.” Lewis said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Y/N and Carlos were in the Walgreens parking lot.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Carlos asked

“Alguien te ha dicho que preocupes mucho? It’s not like I’m in an episode of criminal minds, we’re in broad daylight, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll be back.” Y/N said, before kissing Carlos and slamming the door to enter Walgreens. Carlos jumped from the brute force. Carlos rolled down the window.

“Hija de tu madre, por qué haces eso?” Carlos asked laughing.

“Let me get my shit, okay!” Y/N went in and got out quickly, getting into the car. “Ahora sí, whats up?”

“Why did you slam my door? My car has done nothing to you.” Carlos asked laughing.

“Sorry, amor, it was a prank.” Y/N said.

“My poor car.” Carlos said.

“No seas payaso, let’s go home, I got your dog a treat.” Y/N said.

Max Verstappen

Max and Y/N were sitting in a parking lot.

“Hey, I’m gonna get ice cream, I’ll be right back, okay.” Y/N said.

“Okay, darling.” Max said. Y/N slammed the door when she left and Max just stared at Y/N walking away. He blinks and went back on his phone. “Wonder what’s that about.” Y/N came back.

“So I bought you ice cream, you can eat it now or just put it in the freezer.” Y/N said, showing him the cup with the to-go lid., Max stared at him. “What?”

“You slammed my door, why?” Max asked.

“It’s a TikTok prank.” Y/N responded.

“Okay.” Max said.

“That’s it?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, I know you’re addicted to the app.” Max said.

“I am not addicted, you take that back.” Y/N said.

“You slammed my door because of TikTok, you’re addicted.” Max said.

“Fine, it’s my ice cream now.” Y/N said.

“Okay, okay, you’re not addicted, let’s go, I gotta see my cats.” Max said.

“Ugh, I gotta take my allergy pills.” Y/N said, continuing to eat her ice cream as Max drives off.

Hope y’all liked it! I tried something different, should I do more posts like this?

[gyubakeries]

❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 9: pre-christmas dinner | k.mg

a/n: hi!! welcome to day 9 <333 be prepared to see some chef!mingyu haha :P i also must thank kyii and sousy for brainstorming with me for this fic, and a few others as well. love u guys <3

p.s. it definitely takes much more time to pull off an entire roast chicken, but for the sake of the fic, the process is relatively faster and mingyu is like, the masterchef or something. also im writing this the evening before a major exam and im just as cooked as the first chicken lol.

word count: 1.2k contents: mingyu x gn!reader , established relationship , ceo!mingyu , cooking , theyre gonna roast a chicken for funsies , good chef!mingyu , clumsy helper!reader , fluff , christmas fun , one (1) chicken was ..... cooked too well in this fic , im sorry chicken (or not...) , read to find out why <3

"baby! i'm home!" mingyu calls out, and that's all it takes for you to come out to the living room, only to be met by the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dragging in huge bags.

"you said you were going to buy some ice-cream," you raise an eyebrow at mingyu. "so, either you bought an entire year's worth of cookies 'n cream, or you bought stuff that we didn't need."

"you know how i get at grocery stores, especially the large, gourmet ones," mingyu pouts. "everything looks so good."

"this is exactly why you need to let me buy groceries," you sigh, grabbing one of the bags and starting to empty the contents. "your bank account won't thrive for long."

"please, we both know i have more than enough money to live comfortably," mingyu sasses. you turn away from the pantry, where you were putting away the organic pasta mingyu had bought, to face your boyfriend.

he looks absolutely adorable like this; beanie nearly slipping over his eyes, large figure bundled up in a sweater and crouching in front of the fridge, stuffing two boxes of something in the freezer.

in moments like these, it's almost impossible to imagine mingyu as the CEO of a high-tech company. trying to visualize him in the crisp suits he wears to work feels like a distant dream, especially when at home, he's just the embodiment of a golden retriever, always so soft and loving.

"yeah, i know mr. ceo," you snicker when he plops down on the floor, complaining of a backache because of crouching at a weird angle. "you don't have to flex your money."

"i'm not flexing," mingyu defends himself with wide eyes. "just saying; we could totally quit our jobs and travel the world, and we'd still have enough money to buy your dream house in the countryside of france."

"we'll see about that," you laugh. just as you finish putting all the groceries away, your stomach starts rumbling. "what's for dinner?"

"roast chicken," mingyu hums, and you notice him flitting around the kitchen, gathering spices, sauces, herbs, and lots of other things.

"you're kidding," you deadpan. "you're gonna roast a chicken?"

"yes!" mingyu grins at you, patting a box placed on the counter. "mr. chicken is here. i'm just going to let him marinade for a while before we roast."

"you're insane," you gape at how professional he looks, washing an entire chicken, patting it dry, mixing together a quick marinade, covering the chicken in it and setting it aside in a matter of thirty minutes.

"again, why aren't you a full-time chef?" you ask him. you're both munching on some snacks while he waits for the oven to finish pre-heating and the chicken to rest in the marinade.

"because i only want my baby to eat my cooking," mingyu answers, stealing some of your chips.

"you've literally cooked for all our friends."

"okay, my baby and our friends."

"and what about our future children? won't you cook for them?" you tease, and as usual, mingyu whines.

"y/n, you know what i meant," he sulks. "i didn't want to turn something i love doing into a profession that i may end up hating."

"well, i'm lucky to have experienced your amazing cooking skills," you remark, and mingyu rolls his eyes affectionately. "if you're trying to sweet talk me into giving you the last slice of cheesecake in the fridge, it's not gonna work."

"aw man," you frown, and mingyu presses a kiss to your cheek as compensation. as if on cue, the oven's timer dings, and mingyu springs into action. he takes the chicken out of the fridge, and you watch in awe as he preps a baking tray, places the chicken in it, and puts it in the oven.

he finally finishes fiddling with the settings of the oven and comes over to you, expression serious.

"babe, i have an online meeting right now. the chicken's gonna be in for an hour. can you keep an eye out for when the oven timer rings? i should be done by then, but if i'm not, just carefully take it out of the oven and set it on the counter, okay?"

"got it, chef," you mock salute, and he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "stay alert okay? you do remember what happened last time with the cake, right?" mingyu teases.

"i got distracted by the show! it could happen to anyone," you cross your arms.

"i know, but i don't want a repeat of that," mingyu chuckles. "cleaning burnt cake wasn't exactly fun."

"i promise, gyu, i'll be extra attentive this time," you assure him, and he heads into the study for his online meeting.

to no one's surprise, you completely miss the timer.

your best friend had called you fifteen minutes after the chicken had started cooking, and what was supposed to be a five minute call regarding what dress your friend should wear to her boyfriend's office party, turned into more than an hour of gossiping about your respective office colleagues.

you only notice something is wrong when you smell something burning, and it hits you then.

the chicken.

apparently, mingyu too had smelled the burning, because he's already grabbing the tray out of the oven and placing it on the counter.

the chicken is burnt, and there's no way of salvaging it.

"min, i'm sorry-" you gasp, mortified by your mistake. "i swear i was trying to-"

"it's okay," mingyu shakes his head, setting the tray down in the sink, leaving the disaster of a roast chicken to cool before he attempts to scrape it off the tray. "i kinda thought this may happen, so i got reinforcements."

you watch with furrowed eyebrows as mingyu walks over to the fridge and pulls out another box, revealing yet another whole chicken.

the entire situation seems absurd, and all you can say is, "were they twins??"

mingyu bursts into laughter, and so do you. it's hilarious seeing his six foot-something figure double over as he nearly falls to the ground because of how hard he's laughing.

"babe, you're so silly," he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. "i just got a backup chicken, in case something went wrong with the first one."

"and you didn't bother to check if they were from the same family?" you gasp in mock offense.

"my bad," he raises his arms in surrender. "in my defense, the burnt one kinda looked like this one's cheating ex, which is why it has to go in the trash."

"hm, i'll allow it then," you nod, face serious, as if you both weren't making up ridiculous stories about chickens of all things.

"anyways, now, all you have to do is sit back, while i cook this one," mingyu instructs you.

"it was a mistake," you pout, crossing your arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. mingyu crosses over to you and pecks your lips. "i know it was baby, and it's okay. you can help me with the marinade this time, okay?"

(the way your eyes lit up in joy makes mingyu feel like he'd be okay with any food burning, as long as it gets you this happy to help him redo it.

god, he'd buy you all the chickens in the world, just to see you like this.)

- fin.

divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !

main taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite

@theidontknowmehn @shinwonderful @baseball-dokyeom @wonuwrites @hearts4hee

@t-102 @gyuguys @grapejuicelh @aaa-sia @cixrosie

series taglist in comments!

comment on this post to be tagged on the upcoming fics!

head to the series masterlist - here <3

head to the masterlist for more!

[kuro-is-doodlin]

It happens

It's such a rush today! You believe it's been a while since you had to run around like that. People keep coming in and out, the flow is just too much. You can hardly keep up, and-

!BONK!

"NYA!"

The counter welcomes your side with a big, biiiig hug. It made you do the noise! The noise you hate! Ugh!

You stumble a little and fall back, leaning against the back wall.

"Mgrjfjtkgk.... Blind spot..."

Some customers ask if you're okay, you wave your hand in a "Yeah, I need a minute" manner but..you feel your head get warm, and your hearing get a bit worse. Soon, the familiar buzzing joins the party. You know all too well that's about to happen, and it sucks. Maybe you should warn them so they don't freak out? Yeah you should, that would be better. Yeah that's nice. You should-... Huh. That's a weird place in here. It's a dark void, yet it feels so white and blinding. Where even are you? What were you doing by the way? Is this a dream? Probably, you feel like people are talking to you, yet you don't really see or hear anyone. You feel like you're speaking, too, but you don't. You're definitely dreaming. You try to move and.. there's a weird resistance? So you try harder! You frantically move your left hand, the right just a little, but now they won't stop! What even is that dream? Is it a dream? Or are you dead? Wait could you be? Because of what?

rin....

No you're definitely alive, you're just too cozy in your bed. Speaking of that, you'll probably have to wake up soon and go to work. Urgh..

ove a-ay!

Oh haha, weird.. You see the floor. Did you fall asleep in a random store or something? Oh wait that's bad. People are gonna think you're so weird! Why are you even sleeping here?? You have to say something! You.. can't really speak?

come on buddy..

Woah... Your legs are in the air... Some lady is holding them, you swear you know her...

Give them some space!•

"Mmh..."

•There we go... Welcome back.•

Oh right... It happened.

"Woah, I was gone there for a second. Heh, sorry. I'm okay no need to worry. Just a harmless faint, happens when I fall down."

|Sif are you alright??|

•They said they were. Probably had a vasovagal syncope, my neighbor used to do that. You had a couple of spasm too, does it usually happen?•

"Yyep... That's the funny word. Thanks for the legs. I'm good now."

She let go of your legs, and you slowly sit back up, taking your time to totally clear your mind on the floor. You see your boss on the side, looking over with a worried eye as he helps your colleagues with the unfinished orders.

"Also the jitters are occasional but they're never a problem."

That was quite a scene you just did, huh?

•Alright, if everything's fine... Move away people, there's nothing to see.•

She gives a bad eye around, and return to her seat. That's why she was familiar ! Every time she comes, she always chose the same spot, a calm corner, a bit further away from everyone. You never really talked but you are always so curious about what she's about. Turns out she's nice! Probably.

|Can you get up?...|

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Thanks Isa."

You smile as he offers his arm. You gladly accept it and hold on to it, getting up.

"Ow... Right. That'll leave a bruise alright."

±Go get some rest, I will handle it for a couple of minutes..±

Huh... Well that's nice of him. Your boss is always so.. distant and cold. But he has a weird dad vibe to him. You will never tell but.. you kinda like him.

"Thank you Keith. I'll take a few minutes."

±You are welcome.±

With Isabeau helping you move, you sink into one of the sofa, letting out a heavy sigh. A little bit of snoozing wouldn't hurt.

|I'll keep an eye out for your boss, have a nice rest Sif.|

"Mhm, thanks Isa.."

[moonstruckme]

can i ask for poly! marauders x reader where reader is really sick and literally hallucinating and they take care of her? 😭

Thanks for requesting lovely! I didn't quite do hallucinations, but I hope weird, feverish dreams are close enough haha

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You seem absolutely miserable, and Sirius wishes he could tell you how adorable you look. He would, if he thought you’d take it well. Your eyes are still half-lidded from the restless sleep Remus had woken you up from a minute before, your cheeks flushed pink, and your expression wide open in the way Sirius so rarely gets to see when you have your wits about you. Your lips are pursed in a pretty little pout as James tries, in his sweetly tenacious way, to coax you into eating something. 

“What about a sandwich?” he asks after you turn your nose up at his offer of soup. 

You shake your head, and Sirius thinks he can see you swallowing against a gag reflex. James gives you a pleading look.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you gotta eat something.” He sighs. “How about just dry cereal?”

You look a bit sulky about it, but give a reluctant nod. James grins, pressing a satisfied kiss to the side of your head before heading towards the kitchen. 

He passes Remus in the doorway, the taller boy on his way in with that plagued indent still solid between his brows. James passes a comforting hand along his shoulder, smiling at him encouragingly. Remus returns it, his features softening like butter in the rays of James’ sunshine. 

“Alright, dove,” he says, coming to sit next to you on the bed and uncapping a thermometer, “how are you feeling?”

“Weird,” you mumble, and Sirius pouts at you as Remus holds you still with a gentle hand at your jaw, settling the device in your ear. 

“Still feel like you could be sick?” he asks. 

“Yeah. And my head really hurts.” 

Remus frowns sympathetically. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

The thermometer beeps, and his frown deepens as he brings it closer to his face, reading the screen. 

“What is it?” Sirius asks. 

“It’s not great,” Remus replies quietly, bringing the back of his hand to your forehead like he’ll find something different there. “We need to get your fever down, lovely girl.” 

“Eating could help,” James says brightly, coming in with a bowl of, as promised, plain cereal. He sets it on your lap, but you only stare at it, looking guilty but honestly like you might be sick, even with nothing in your stomach to bring up. 

“Well, don’t let it get soggy,” Sirius jokes after a moment, unsure whether he feels worse for you or James right now. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you really do sound it. “I’m really not hungry.” 

“Just have a few bites,” Remus reasons. “You need to eat something with your medicine.” 

“What medicine?”

“The fever reducers I’m about to give you.” Sirius looks over to see him screwing the cap off a pill bottle, shaking a couple into his hand. “C’mon, eat your cereal.” 

You look up at him, eyes big and pitiful and surprisingly watery. “I can’t,” you whine. 

“Dove,” Remus' voice is firm, but still gentler than he’d usually be. “This isn’t up for debate, I’m sorry. You have to eat at least some.”

You set your mouth in a stubborn line, and Remus cocks an eyebrow. 

“No cuddles until you do.” 

Your defiance cracks like a shell, your eyes filling with tears quicker than any of your boyfriends can react. “Really?” you whimper. 

Fucking hell, Sirius hadn’t agreed to that. Neither had James, apparently, because they’re both at your side in an instant, Sirius wrapping an arm around your shoulders while James thumbs away the few hot, sluggish tears that escape. 

“No, angel, it’s okay,” James says hastily. “Why don’t you just have a couple bites of cereal, huh? Just for now.” 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. “This is so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, baby,” Sirius promises you, kissing your temple. The heat that meets his lips is frightening. “You don’t feel well, I’m sure everything sucks right now. You’re allowed to be a little extra emotional when your brain is melting.”

More tears spill from your eyes, glassy with fever and now also filling with horror as you look up at him. “My brain is melting?” 

“It’s not,” Remus says quickly, shooting Sirius an exasperated look. “It’s not, darling, that was just an exaggeration. What Sirius means is that you have a really high fever. It’s understandable that you’d be upset.” 

“Oh,” you hiccup, and Sirius murmurs an apology, rubbing your upper arm comfortingly. He casts a bewildered look to the others as you sniffle, Remus’ expression lined with exhaustion and James looking dangerously close to laughter. 

“How about just three bits of cereal?” Sirius asks softly, scooping a few pieces from the bowl and holding the spoon up enticingly. “Then you can be done, yeah?”

“Okay,” you mumble, taking the spoon from him. Remus murmurs something to James, who disappears into the bathroom. 

By the time you’ve finished your three bites, with no sparse amount of praise from both Remus and Sirius, James has returned with a cup of water and a washcloth in hand. 

“Attagirl,” he says with a smile, passing you the cup of water as Remus hands over the pills. 

You swallow them eagerly, as if you’re anticipating the relief. James folds the washcloth, pushing you gently back into the pillows with a hand on your shoulder.

“Lie down for me, sweetheart.”  

You do, and he lowers to a crouch by the bed, smoothing the hair from your clammy forehead and laying the washcloth in its place. Sirius can’t help but think of how pretty the two of you look, James’ curls falling in his face as he brushes a touch over your cheek, you looking over at him adoringly. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, as though afraid to disturb the quiet, peaceful atmosphere that’s descended upon the room. “Feels nice.” 

“You should close your eyes, dove,” Remus suggests. “Get some rest, give the medicine a chance to do its job.” 

You frown, but it’s not the grumpy sulk you’d worn a few minutes before; this is more pensive. It’s almost funny, Sirius thinks, that somber look on your cute, feverish face. 

“I don’t think I want to,” you say. “I didn’t like it before.” 

“You didn’t like being asleep?” James raises his eyebrows, and you nod seriously. “Why not, angel?” 

“Weird, bad dreams.” 

Sirius scoots closer to where you’re lying, his knee almost touching James’ chest. He sets his palm idly against your overwarm cheek. “You’ve got to sleep if you’re going to get better, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “I’ll stay with you, if it makes you feel better. Those nightmare fuckers will have to get through me first.” 

You do your best to bite it back, but your smile wins in the end, your eyelashes pinching at the corners. Sirius starts there, his thumb smoothing a line from the outer corner of your eye into your hairline. Back again. Over and over, in a nice, slow rhythm. After a few times, your smile fades. Your eyelids flutter, and Sirius can tell they must feel like they weigh a hundred tons each from the way they droop slowly before finally slipping closed. 

Sirius thinks you might be asleep, but then you say drowsily, “I know what you’re doing.” 

“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Remus echoes it. “That’s alright, baby. If I was trying to be subtle, you’d have no idea.” 

You hum like you want to argue, but you don’t speak again.

[schoenpepper]

Fishies

Intro: In your dreams, this eel merman loves to bother you the most.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, Floyd is a warning in and of himself, mentions of homicide haha, reader is yuu, i dont think i followed the req very well my bad, u and floyd are like super totally normal besties i prommy ahaha no romance here nope no sir, not proofread im like super ded, the glitch text is funny to me, yandere floyd and reader if u like squint super hard

A/N: Updates are slowing down a lot, I know, I'm so so sorry. Unfortunately, my course and univ are kind of competitive, and as someone who hates studying, I've been forced to actually study. Gross, I know. This is for my 300 follower event, for @anonymousplant. I hope you like it.

Masterlist

You’re a pretty normal person, at least, you’d like to think so.

But starting from when you were 5 years old, you’ve had a permanent, recurring dream. You tell your parents of a rowdy merman that tends to linger in your subconscious: his sharp-toothed grin, his sparkly tail longer than his torso, his pretty fins that fluttered when you tried to touch them. They didn’t believe you when you said he really liked trying to squeeze you to death, though they comfort you when you break into their room in the middle of the night sobbing your little heart out.

Yeah, Floyd is an asshole.

That’s his name, or at least, what he told you. You’re not too inclined to debate him on that considering his fondness of wrapping his ridiculously long (and freakishly strong) tail around you, squeezing you at a moment’s notice.

You thank whatever deity is listening that you can breathe underwater in your dreams. He does not seem like the kind of guy who wouldn’t drown you. You know, for fun. Every night when you fall asleep, you ready yourself to meet with your imaginary friend (that’s what your parents called him, though you prefer the term imaginary acquaintance, at best).

“Shrimpy! You’re here, hehe~”

You look at him harshly with your arms crossed in front of your chest, “You’re never this happy to see me. What do you want, fishy?”

“Neh, shrimpy~” the sparkles in his two-colored irises bring about a sense of fear in you, “do you know what dreaming like this means?”

“That I made up a weird eel merman in my mind?”

“I’m not made up. Don’t be silly, shrimpy!” Floyd’s tail slithers in the water, coiling around your legs, “Jade and I learned about it yesterday. You’re my soulmate!”

Ten-year-old you woke up in a nervous start.

Ew!

Why would you ever, ever, be caught dead being with someone like Floyd?! He’s annoying, and a fish, and so if you got together you’d be a fish too! But you don’t want to be a fish!

Your parents are surprised to find you in a very snappy mood the following morning.

“You left so quick, shrimpy! You don’t wanna be my soulmate?”

You snatch an iridescent fish swimming by, turning it into a big plushie with your dream powers. “But you’re annoying,” you stick out your tongue, “so I don’t want to be your soulmate.”

“Eh…?”

You glance at Floyd. He doesn’t seem too happy with your words—in fact, his eyes are narrowed and he’s swimming slowly, closer and closer to you. “But I like you so much, shrimpy~” he says, but there’s no expression on his face. He’s so, so uncomfortably close that you need to lean back to avoid touching him, “you don’t get to choose your soulmate, y’know? So it’s not like you have a choice, hehe~ But if you really wanna be rid of me, I can always squeeze you ‘til your eyes pop! If you’re dead, you wouldn’t have a soulmate anymore. Shrimpy, aren’t I so nice?”

“You suck.”

You kick at the dream water and swim away from the giggling eel.

“Wanna play chase, shrimpy? Okay~”

He’s not too bad. At worst he’ll get cuteness aggression and suddenly wrap himself around you, but most times you’re just chatting endlessly with him about what he calls “weird human things”, and you pester him for details about “normal fish things”. He talks about his octopus friend that he refuses to call a friend, and how takoyaki is his favorite food in the same sentence. You talk about having to dissect a frog in science class which he found really funny somehow. He tells you about his twin brother and their shenanigans together. You tell him about how your parents, your friends—no one believes you when you say that Floyd’s real.

He says they’re lame.

You’ve learned to keep him a well-guarded secret lest your parents recommend a mental hospital again, but he must’ve stuck himself real close to your heart when he starts becoming inseparable from your mind.

He’s become a really good friend.

With Floyd, no moment is ever dull, even when you’re just sitting together on some dream-conjured rock, leaning on each other silently.

There is no second in a day in which you’re not thinking of him. Your favorite part of the day is going to sleep to see him each night, spending hours with his eccentric tendencies. The fish has become a very important part of your life.

(Your friends in school ask you who you like in a discussion about crushes. You ignore the fact that his name is on the tip of your tongue.)

He’s your best friend. There is no secret you can keep from him, because despite Floyd’s usual laissez-faire attitude, one change in your expression and he’s onto you. You’d thought you would go through your entire life with him as your constant, you really did.

On your sixteenth birthday, he’s gone.

Not that he disappeared, but rather, you can’t dream anymore. You wake up the next day with no memory of any dream, and it fills you with panic. Your stomach is churning like a void is forming inside—an integral part of yourself is missing and everything feels so, so wrong. You make your bed and head downstairs to eat breakfast. Your parents question your demeanor in concern for your well-being, and you force out a smile. You tell them you’re fine? There’s no need to worry them about the loss of your imaginary friend, right? You’re okay. Maybe this is the change you needed. You’ll be an adult soon, and you can’t dream of a weird eel merman forever.

No no n̷̥̜̐ơ̷͉̪ ̴͚̉̾n̷͚̥͒̓o̵͍̾̆ ̵͍͑n̷̩̝͐ő̵̟ ̶̛̈́ͅn̴̟̣͝͠ȍ̴̢̜ ̸̳̾ǹ̷̳̮ö̴̠́

Where is he?

Where is F̸̛̛̛͇͉̳̝̫̹͒̏͒͊̐͜ͅļ̸̪͈̞̱͓̰̖͌̽̉̔̐̇̃̃̏ó̶̻̯̪̭̐͋̏͛͒̈́̇̽ͅy̶̟̳̬͉̙̖̫̙̻̑̏̌̔̇͂̋̌̕d̷̝͕̣͖̺̬̦̟̂͊͜?̶̧̛͕͎̼͔̈́̆ Ẅ̶̟̗́͠ͅh̶̦̞͚͙̣͛ỳ̴̢͓͓̗͔̗͓̀̉́͋͜͝ ̸̹́͐̿͛ī̵̡̛͎̪̭͉̫̋s̷̢͇͗̏̔͑̿́̚͜ ̵̡̟̄̀̈̆̎̓͝ͅh̵͕̓͂̍̀̔̊̏́ę̶̹̝̘̙̪̗͊̽ ̸̮̟̞͇̭͕̫́̆̀͑̓͗͜͠g̵̙̰̽̔̈́̃́̓̋̐o̸͚̱̟̳̘̦̖̊͐̓ñ̷̨͕͉͈̱̮̲̟ȅ̷͓͙?̴͖͎̳͚̟̲͚̂̔́̔͝͝

Why has he left you...?

Your vacation to your grandmother’s house does nothing to ease your worries (but if she ever heard you sobbing your heart out alone in your room, she never said anything about it).

There’s an old mirror in your bedroom in your grandmother’s house, owned by your late great grandparents. The floor length mirror is encased in an intricate gold frame, and it’s not too obvious until one night when you’d found yourself staring at it in a daze, but the reflection is off. It’s tinged with a layer of purple light, translucent and barely visible unless you pay attention. You try to sleep (it’s been evading you for three days, since the night of your birthday), cozy in your fluffy blankets and a blue unicorn onesie that your grandma had bought to try to cheer you up.

You’re woken by a bright light.

Careful, tiptoed steps lead you in front of the mirror. Your fingertips graze over its surface when a sudden force pulls you in—right in front of a crowd of a few hundred students.

So that was your first day in NRC.

You’d say it was nothing particularly remarkable considering everyone in this place has some sort of superpower, but to be honest, they think you’re so intriguing because you’re magicless. In their eyes that made you weak.

Helpless.

NRC is just filled to the brim with budding sadists.

Your first night in NRC goes a lot different.

It’s uncomfortable. The blankets and sheets are old and scratchy. The entire place is in disarray. It’s filthy and dusty and you’re sure you’re one step away from falling right through the floorboards because of how creaky they are. But tiredness makes for the best sleeping aid, and you’re prepared for another night of nothing.

You miss Floyd.

It’s a big shock when you’re met with your most beloved dreamscape instead of the void. Cold water that chills you to the bone, schools of colorful fish just passing by. There’s a long tail wrapped around a boulder, connected to a swaying half-human who’s blankly staring at the jellyfish. It’s all so familiar that your feet have acted before your brain has; you’re right next to him again.

(It’s where you should be.)

“Shrimpy!”

His voice is a welcome sound. His squeezing though, not so much.

“Floyd—ack! Ow ow ow!”

You almost swear you hear your ribs crack at some point with the way his tail and arms are putting pressure on it, but he only loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go.

You don’t mind that he doesn’t want to.

“Shrimpy’s so mean, why’d you gotta go no contact like that? It’s been so boring! I was super bummed, didn’t even wanna leave my room for that lame ceremony. Did you sleep when I was awake or somethin’?” he whines mournfully into your hair, “I thought… tsk, I told you soulmates aren’t changeable. Were you tryin’ to stop dreaming again?”

“No, the dreams just stopped,” you reply softly. It’s so oddly comforting to be in his arms, it makes you sleepy even in your sleep.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You weren’t tryin’ to stop seeing me again?”

“I wasn’t. I promise.”

He hums, almost in relief.

(You don’t feel his lips gently, so gently, leaving a kiss on your neck where he’d buried his head. It’s so unlike him, but you make him act so weird.)

Grim wakes you up to look for breakfast in the cafeteria, and your time with your (platonic 💜) soulmate is over all too quickly. But something is stuck in your mind as you’re trudging through dimly lit halls with cat in tow. You knew the name Night Raven College rang a bell, but for it to be the very same school that Floyd had been ranting about for a year is just so unexpected.

(You’re finally in the same world.)

Then, is he here?

You didn’t manage to tell him about your most recent adventures last night. Maybe you should ask around and see if anyone can point you in the correct direction. At least, that was your original plan. Before an almost-burnt statue, a broken chandelier, two idiots who are actually really fun to hang out with, an abandoned mine with hostile ghosts…yeah. It takes you at least three more days before you remember to ask about Floyd in the school. You wanted it to be a surprise, so you kept it a secret from him. Though you probably should have expected that with all the mischief you’d gotten up to, your name was bound to reach his ears sooner or later.

“What the—?!”

“Ack!”

“Woah!”

Your first real meeting with Floyd starts with your cat and your friends being pushed to the ground in a pile.

“Shrimpy! You’re in my school! And you’re the funny student that’s been causing trouble? Now I’m annoyed I missed orientation for the freshies,” he does not hug any looser in his human form, “coulda’ seen you earlier. I coulda’ squeezed you earlier too~”

“Too tight, loosen up a bit please.”

“Okay~”

Ace and Deuce are looking up at you in shock with how casual you seem to be with him, but you pay their reactions no mind, only walking towards them with Floyd still wrapped around you, reaching out a hand to help them up.

(You don’t notice Floyd glower at the trio, or the way his hold tightens ever so slightly.)

They don’t take your hand, but you smile and introduce your best friend anyway. “Guys, this is Floyd. He and I have been in each other’s dreams since forever,” you pat Floyd’s arm that’s slung over your shoulder, “he says we’re soulmates but just ignore him, he’s kinda crazy. It’s probably some freak coincidence.”

“There you go again shrimpy, I thought we were over this? You still don’t believe me even now?”

“Soulmates don’t exist Floyd, don’t think about it too much. You know you’re still my best friend.”

(Ace and Deuce look at each other. Neither of them want to be the one to tell you—)

Soulmates are absolutely a thing.

And with the way that the big bad school bully, known for terrorizing at least half of the student population, is basically hanging off you, there was just no way that Floyd wasn’t completely and absolutely enamored by his cute, magicless little soulmate.

They should probably warn Grim that the eel merman wouldn’t be letting you sleep at Ramshackle tonight.

Or ever.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Okay now that I've reblogged that one post...

Holy shit

Like, please understand me. This is how I already interpreted these relationships after reading Journal 3 but like

Wow Ford really was in a weird kinda complicated gay situationship with Bill and Fiddleford, huh? When he's all alone on Christmas in tbob he's all like "Oh yeah haha of course...of course. You have. Yeah. You have a wife, F. How could I expect you not to leave. I am totally not secretly hoping you'll turn around and come back to me, or that you'll even bring your family back here if you have to so I can see you. I'd retreat to my dreams but I haven't seen my muse in weeks and I miss him so badly. I'm so alone"

He and Fiddleford aren't even dating but it's hard not to get the light impression that this situationship is such that Ford kinda treats Bill like his comfort triangle from his head and dreams and Fiddleford like his comfort best friend in his lab. Like he's sad on Christmas that his boyfriends left him alone, you know? Of course it's definitely more complicated than just that, but they are dear companions to him

Or when Bill finally comes back and Ford is pissed

"You return now? After all of that, after me missing you so badly, almost dying, wondering if I'd dreamed it all up. You return now like it was no biggie? Did you ever mean the things you said? Did you not find some other scientist or some other big brain to talk up? Have you found someone else? Another partner?"

And then Bill, dodging the question was like "Funny you think I'm cheating on you as if you haven't been spending all that time with F. The side bitch. The third wheel. You've even considered telling him everything, even though you know he has second thoughts. Heh. A little birdie told me he dreams of shutting down the project even."

Leading Ford to be like "Aw hell how could I accuse my muse of such a terrible thing when I haven't been a saint. He's right! F has been much less motivated lately and I've just gotten so paranoid from the isolation. I'm so sorry for my baseless accusations."

I don't even have a lot to say I just love these three. Fiddleford put up with a lot of shit from Ford while also dealing with his own problems and trying to help him regardless, while Stanford saw him as a comfort and a good friend but ultimately someone who was of lesser mind than he and couldn't see things through his eyes, while Bill was in Stanford's corner actively making him worse and contributing to his isolation (trying to get him to drop Fiddleford and actively feeding his paranoia), while Stanford was seeing both relationships of his with stars in his eyes and rose tinted glasses because he refused to do some introspection

There's so much stuff that journal 3 and tbob added to the equation that's just bad/shitty all around. Can't believe Ford went through a double divorce/breakup despite not having ever been married (or, at least, despite not even officially dating them sorta)

The entire situation in the past is just tragic and hilarious and concerning all at once and that's what I like the portal trio for tbh

[stxneflxwers]

tough love.

⋯⁂ summary. he could use tough love, but only yours.

⋯⁂ a/n. this glorious idea hit me... i had to write it immediately !! also if it reads weird halfway thru, it's cuz my internet fucking died and i had to finish this at two different times D:

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine x gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. post-penacony. all lowercase. reader is brutally honest. aventurine gets some tough love. hurt/comfort. you knew each other pre-penacony. some cussing. awkward confession. you give him a hug.

aventurine is tired. fatigued. exhausted.

penacony has been one brutally eye-opening experience after another for him, and many others. a part of him wants to sleep for so long, so so long. perhaps not permanently, but when he feels well enough to face the world again. maybe.

this place is a goddamn nightmare, he thinks with a wry and weak chuckle.

right now, he's standing in clockie studios theme park – a place he's grown to partly resent, partly appreciate. he stares down the repaired big screen with crossed arms as he leans against a wall. it's now so isolated here, but people have bigger fish to fry, he thinks. yet... he can't help but feel so small in comparison. briefly, he feels relieved he isn't in the spotlight.

"you know, that was pretty shitty of you. maybe the shittiest. but... maybe you've learned your lesson, hm?"

a familiar voice nearby echoes in his ears – your voice. your sweet yet painfully forthright voice. you're perhaps the only damned person in this unforgiving universe that could hope to understand his inner machinations.

now, he finds himself appreciating you more than ever. maybe he's ready to be seen, even just a little. but only by you.

he smirks, "yeah, maybe i did." he laughs weakly.

silence casts a thick blanket over you two. maybe for a moment too long.

"you know," you start again, "i've been incredibly worried over your dumb ass." you sigh, yet it's the sweetest sound to him.

"ah," he mutters shyly, "my bad." he can't stop smiling, but it's hardly one borne from his false bravado.

"...damn right it's 'your bad'," you frown slightly, the sight hurts to see. and then you stride up to him with tentative confidence, "...i missed you, too." you stand a couple of paces away from him.

"you know what? i missed you like hell too." he confesses, there's something mysteriously soft in his gaze as he stares you down. his gaze lacks its usual lightlessness, it's the first time you've ever seen a shimmer of something honest in him.

"you're finally changing, then!" you grin, finally closing the distance, "i believe in you, aven. i always have, i always will. and, well…" you hesitate, a rare occurrence. "…i'm honored to witness your growth and change. you're not immutable… and, inevitably, everything is mutable." you whisper.

aventurine can't stop himself from blushing.

he's not sure why he's blushing – is it the proximity? no, he's used to standing near you. is it your words? no, not that either. is it your mere presence? ...maybe.

you notice his pink cheeks immediately. and you grin.

"what's with that look on your face, huh–"

"i love you."

you damn near choke on your own oxygen. (not that oxygen is entirely a necessity in a dream.) now you're the flustered one. actually, both of you are flustered – his red face rivaling your surprised expression.

"i–" he starts, "uh..." his mouth hangs open. why in the absolute hell did he just blurt that out? "haha! got ya! you know me and my–"

"that wasn't a prank, so don't even try pulling that on me..." your surprise shifts into a half-hearted glare, and a little pout that he wants to kiss so badly.

"haha... o-okay, not a prank..." he raises his hands defensively.

and then there's naught but silence. very awkward silence. the most awkward silence. he's still blushing, you're still glaring. he glances around, as if searching for the nearest exit, and when his eyes land back on you, you've taken a step closer to him.

"i love you too, you reckless idiot."

you sigh as your expression softens, even your voice is as light as a halovian's feather. it's music to his ears. he cracks a small smile, it's genuine and bashful with the way it curves his lips.

"...and i know my love can't fill the holes in your heart," you whisper, "but... you'll let me at least help you out with putting band-aids on for now, right?" you smile, he can taste how bittersweet it must feel for you.

"heh," he laughs breathily, "as long as it's you helping out."

"good. i can't keep pushing my way into your world, anyway, so... please... let me stay a while longer." you pull him into a tentative, careful hug – holding him like he's made of glass. and maybe he is.

"i..." he trails off as a sudden surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm him, bubbling in his chest. "stay." he hides his face in your shoulder.

"for as long as you'll have me."

"then... always?"

"always."

[penelopeswifey]

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS!

CHAPTER 3 — WEIRDO!

a/n: so.. hey.. happy new year.. merry christmas... happy halloween. I'm SORRY FOR SAYING ID UPDATE MORE THEN LEAVING AND NEVER COMING BACK. I really forgot about Tumblr after a few days ☹️☹️ but HERE I hope you all had a good 2024 and a even better 2025!!

You just sat on your chair, contemplating life while deciding if you even wanted to live it

This is so humiliating.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get worse, you got a notification from someone you would rather die than talk to.

There is no fucking way.

Y/N stared at their phone screen, frozen.

" Funny how you kept whining about how overrated I was, wanna talk about those stories you've made? "

No. No. No.

The words burned into your brain as you read them over and over again. Scaramouche. THE Scaramouche.. The idol you dragged through the mud on countless streams and tweets. The same idol who was, apparently, now aware of your other identity.. the anonymous fanfiction writer who had single-handedly written half the internet’s “Scaramouche x Reader” content. The same person who shitted on him so much time!

You dropped your phone onto the desk and buried your face in your hands. Nope. This isn’t real. This is all a dream. It can’t be real. Why would it be real? There’s no way this is real. But when you peeked through your fingers, the message was still there, on the phone like it demanded your attention.

“Why.. why is this happening to me?” you whispered to yourself. Your brain was screaming at you to respond, but also screaming at you to jump out of your window where you could die or move to the countryside and become a farmer. But your fingers refused to move. What could you even say?

" Haha, just a prank, broski! " No, too weird. Who the hell says that.

" That wasn't me!.. " Yeah, because your whole stream was definitely ai generated.

No, none of this would work.

Maybe you could ignore it. Pretend you didn’t see the message. But what if he posted about it? What if he already had? But, he couldn't right?! He's an idol.. but just out of paranoia, you frantically opened Twitter, scanning his feed. Nothing. Yet.

Dropping your phone back onto the desk, you screamed into your hands begging to be taken out. But you were going through that crisis, your phone buzzed again. Another message.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” you muttered as you grabbed their phone.

Please don't be him again.

" I have to say, you’ve got quite the imagination. Because some of those scenarios? Bold. "

Your soul left your body. He read them. He actually read them. How many? Which ones? Did he see the one where he- no. nope, nope, nope. don't you dare think about that.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, shaking. After a deep breath, you typed something anything- to atleast be able to solve this issue!

“ I can explain? 😁.. "

The response was immediate.

"Oh, please do. I'm very interested. "

You let out a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and a scream. Why did he have to be so smug about this?! This was his fault!, with his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid way of being the perfect material to write about! This is all his fault he knows damn well how he's acting In front of the camera does he expect no one to be taking one for the team and writing about him?!

“Look,” you typed, trying to sound calm, “it’s not like I’m the only one who writes this stuff. You just happened to find mine. "

His reply came in less than ten seconds.

“ Not hard to find when you've basically written half of the internet's fanfiction about me. "

You nearly chucked your phone across the room. Yes, death is definitely a better option, where's the nearest window? You couldn't even think straight before you typed back and sent

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you shot back

“ Oh, absolutely. This is the best thing I’ve seen all week. Do you always write such... intense stuff, or was it just for me? "

There's no coming back from that. You groaned, slamming your head onto the desk. There was no way you were living this down. Ever.

Driven by emotions instead of rationality, you texted back.

“I hate you.”

Another buzz.

“Doesn’t seem like it, judging by what you've written about me. "

You let out a soundless scream, shoving your chair back and pacing around the room, making laps as you ran around the house. Your heart was racing, your face felt like it was on fire.. out of embarrassment of course, NOT because you're interacting with THE scaramouche- the same one who in your fics did- yeah, stop.

Ignoring the continuous buzz of notifications erupting from your phone, you finally sat down from running laps and thought to yourself, knowing you just pulled yourself in a hole you sure as hell won't be escaping anytime soon.

He wasn't going to let this go, was he?

—

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS!

SYPNOSIS: You, a well-known streamer, have always kept your two hobbies separate. By day, you entertain thousands with your snarky commentary, but by night, you secretly write. fanfiction about your favorite idol, Balladeer. It was a guilty pleasure—until a late-night stream led to a slip of the tongue and exposed your secret to the world!

In a single moment of poor judgment and a misclick, which by the way was totally not your fault!.. I think.. clips and memes about you spread like wildfire! It was embarrassing enough for everyone to know about your fanfiction, but it spiraled down even further when they discovered you were writing about the very idol you  constantly claimed was overrated.

Just as you wallowed in self-pity, a notification pings on your phone. A familiar username and a blue checkmark.

Shit.

accidentally yours masterlist: chapter 4 —

-

taglist

@kaeuri @kazumiku @kyouzki @skyoverkill1 @flowzel @lalalaloveallmydays @sketcheeee @vi0let-writes @kunikuzushis-darling @js-a-silly-little-guy @simonisferal @jayzioxx @naevis-callingae @vxmp-loml @dxrling-xing  @suzueuieeeee @kinanahan @help-whatdoimakemyusername @khisuko @dearanemo @heusalettle @v4lerixxq @catorkitty @khsuvy @reivelmin

[justluxy]

Weird Dreams - Part 5/10

Original author Tortilla_Feliz on wattpad, go support them!!!

Shoto Todoroki x Bottom Male Reader

Where you woke Shoto up when he was still in the middle of his dream with you

Warning: Smut (Characters are 18+) and exhibitionism?

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

-S-Shit... someone might see us here - You said between moans thanks to the strong thrusts that Shoto was giving you, hitting again and again that sweet spot that you liked so much

-Then- He licked your neck- you should be quiet and try to not moan a lot - He gasped and turned you around causing your face to crash into the grass, you and him were being risky by doing it in the U.A. courtyard

-C-Careful, damn it- You moaned as you felt all of his weight resting on you while he made you lift your fucking sore ass

-What? I thought you liked it

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

-Dumbass wake up!- You yelled at him, making him wake up. It was the first time he had left one of those dream unfinished -What's wrong with you dude?

-I...what happened?- He looked at you confused, he was blushing, shit his hard cock hurt too much, why it was hurting like that?He sat on the couch because he didn't want you to notice the problem between his legs.

-Well, I was stroking your hair, dude, it's really soft and you fell asleep, haha, you left me talking to myself, Shoto - You said laughing

-Yeah... I...I'm sorry- he muttered

-Hey dude - You whispered, drawing the attention of Shoto who was confused by your sudden action

-Yeah?- he whispered, being careful not to move too much

-I recommend cold water - You said and that confused him even more, what did you mean? and when you realized that he hadn't understood what you meant, you pointed to his crotch- cold water is good for that- You said, now slightly blushing

-I-I... - shit, he didn't know what to do in that situation, you realized his hard cock

-Seriously, someone is making you act like an idiot- You said between giggles -Come on, go before someone sees you like that and it gets embarrassing, I told you because I trust youbuddy, and because you always lend me a pencil when I don't have one

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Idk if you were serious or not but I would love a Gagamaru fic where a shy/skittish reader wakes up from a nightmare & calls Gagamaru for comfort but our feral boy is on the move & just comes over instead & spends the night spooning y/n

── NIGHTMARE

Synopsis: Gagamaru has an unorthodox method of comforting you when you call him after a nightmare, but it works well enough that you can’t complain.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Gagamau x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.4k

Content Warnings: nightmares, scaredy-cat reader, gagamaru is a lil weird but he’s got his heart in the right place so we love him

A/N: anon i NEVER joke about writing for obscure characters HAHA i will literally take any chance to do so hehe 🤩 i hope this is close to what you wanted anon!! i’ve literally never written gagamaru before so hopefully he’s not toooo ooc

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

For a moment, you couldn’t be sure why you were awake or where you were. All you knew was that your heart was racing and your palms were clammy and your blanket was stifling, so stifling, but when you went to cast it away a voice in the back of your mind screamed don’t!

You gasped when you remembered. There was a person in your room, standing at the foot of your bed, a shadowy figure with a malevolent aura that was smiling at you sinisterly, waiting for you to notice them so that they could — so that they could — you squeezed your eyes shut and burrowed yourself back under the covers, hugging your knees to your chest and doing your best not to move or breathe or think or anything.

As your thoughts slowed, you blinked, realizing that you had just woken up from a nightmare, and there was a high chance that the person wasn’t real. Creeping back out of the sheets, you took a deep breath and then, all at once, flung them aside and raced to the light switch, flicking it on and holding your hands out in front of you defensively.

There was nothing. Your room was undisturbed, but your heart was still pounding, and you could not bring yourself to go back to sleep, not when the dream had been so vivid. Leaving the lights on, you returned to your bed, sitting on the edge with your legs crossed, turning on your phone and wincing when you saw the time.

Gagamaru’s voice sounded the same when he picked up your call, though it was rough and slightly distorted, no doubt a symptom of the cell service wherever he was. It was thick with sleep, as well, and belatedly you remembered how careful he always was to get a proper amount of sleep.

“Hello, Y/N?” he said.

“Gagamaru,” you sniffed, glancing at the depths of your closet, which were dark and endless and almost certainly contained something or another of the frightening sort. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said. “Did something happen?”

“No,” you said. “Yes. I can’t sleep.”

“This is why you shouldn’t be on your phone so late. Screens are bad for your eyes,” he said.

“It’s not that,” you said. “I had a nightmare.”

“Ah,” he said. “Like, you saw something scary in your sleep?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, and then, abruptly, the call ended. You frowned, and for a moment you were too bewildered to be frightened, but then the emptiness of the house became too overwhelming, the silence without his voice all but deafening. There was a noise from downstairs, creaking and ominous, and though you knew it was most likely just the groan of the house settling or the whine of the fridge, it made you whimper and dive back into the safety of your blankets, leaving the lights on as you stared up at the ceiling.

A few moments later, there was a knock on your window. You waited, hoping beyond hope that it was a figment of your overactive imagination, but right after that was a second knock. You squealed, scrambling backwards, your blankets pulled up to your face, your back pressed against the headboard, only your eyes peeping out so you could stare at the window.

“Y/N, it’s me!” The shout was muffled, but it was undoubtedly Gagamaru, and although you really shouldn’t have been surprised, you were still somehow confused as you crossed your room to open the window for him. 

“Gagamaru?” you said. He was hanging on your windowsill with an uncanny dexterity, and when he saw you, his face split into a wide grin. You stumbled backwards as he swung into your room, shutting the window behind him. 

“You told me you had a nightmare, so I came to see you,” he said. “Was that wrong?”

You and Gagamaru had been going to school together for a while now, but while the others had shunned him for his wild strangeness, you had found it to be entirely appealing. There was a sort of kindness in his inability to sugarcoat anything, and his bluntness contrasted so harshly with your skittish demeanor that it circled around into compatibility. The two of you had been friends almost since you had met, although recently, your relationship with him had grown beyond mere friendship into something more — something that wasn’t quite definable but definitely crossed the line into a closeness that you had never felt with another person before.

“It wasn’t wrong, just unexpected,” you said, already more at ease now that he was there. His mere presence, imposing like a beast, felt like enough to ward anyone off if he didn’t want them there. “Especially that you got here so fast.”

“I know how you are,” he said, flopping onto your bed. “I didn’t want you to be scared for even a moment longer than you had to be. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if I’m here?”

“Maybe,” you said. “Let me turn off the lights and try.”

You fumbled your way back to the bed in the darkness, lying beside him, your back to his broad chest as you tried to close your eyes. He tossed a casual arm over your waist, exhaling softly, and though you did feel marginally better, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to sleep.

“Not working?” he said.

“You could tell?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Your breathing isn’t even enough for you to be asleep. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was horrible,” you said, swallowing, moving so that you could hold onto his hand. “There was a man waiting to kill me. It wasn’t for any reason — he just thought it was funny. He was waiting for me to wake up and realize that I was about to die, and then he was going to do it.”

“Hm,” he murmured sleepily.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you said, a tear dripping from your eyes and splashing onto your pillow. “It’s dumb to be this scared over a dream, isn’t it?”

“You’re not stupid,” he said. “That’s scary. If I had that dream, I’d probably be scared when I woke up, too.”

“I bet you wouldn’t stay this scared for so long,” you said.

“Nah,” he said. “But that’s not a bad thing. I can’t be scared because I’ve gotta look out for you. You know I won’t ever let anything hurt you, right?”

“Even that stupid dream?” you said. “What if it’s real?”

“I’ll beat him up,” Gagamaru mumbled into your hair, adjusting his grip on you so that he could run his fingers along your sides. “I’ve fought a bear before….do you think some guy is going to be anything?”

“I remember that,” you said, laughing softly. He had come into school that day with bandages on his ears and a bruise on his cheek and an effortless attitude, as if it was just another day for him, as if ordinary people also went around wrestling with bears. “You’re crazy.”

“It’s not that hard to do,” he said. “Can you sleep now?”

He used his free hand to cover your eyes, giving you no choice but to close them. You exhaled and found that it would not be so difficult at all.

“I think I can,” you said. “You’ll stay, right? If something happens, you’ll be here?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course I will be. Why would I tell you I’d look out for you and then leave?”

It wasn’t like you were any less frightened, but having Gagamaru by your side was a boost of confidence, enough of one that you could finally be comfortable with drifting off. Maybe it was true that someone might come and try to hurt you. Maybe you’d slip into another nightmare — but this time, when you woke up, it would be with him, and you didn’t think it would be so horrible if he was there.

“I guess you wouldn’t,” you said.

“I wouldn’t,” he affirmed, sounding barely-awake at this point. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you said. “Thank you for coming all of this way.”

“Of course,” he said. “I always will. If you need me, I’ll be there, and that’s a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said with a yawn. “I really will.”

“You do that,” he said, wrapping himself around you tighter. It was then, and only then, that you could finally settle into sleep — one thankfully free of anything but happier scenes, some of them even reminiscent of the first days that you had met Gagamaru.

[hazelfoureyes]

Sending in anon because I'm a coward... 😩

I'm a new reader, and I just have to say-- your "a doe in fall" series is just... AMAZING!!

I could go on, and on and on about how much I love it. But what gets me the most is always Alastor's dialogue, because as someone who is also on the aro/ace spectrum, I just get it so much. Especially the subtle hoping that reader can like... Read his mind about how he feels for her, and the weird sort of stockholm syndrome we sometimes develop with ourselves after being alone with only our own company for so long, and it really is, lol, like you just get so used to being alone for so long because you know the idea people have of you, you can't truly live up to, so you don't want to "disappoint" them that you actually aren't like they are, so you just sorta... Keep them occupied at arms length-- Therefore you're forced to adapt to your company being the only love you have for a long time. it's like an obligation.

And when or if the special somebody who understands you comes along, you realize... "Wow, I've been living like this for so long, is this what it feels like to be loved and appreciated, in spite of my oddities, or maybe even in favor of them? Strange..."

Emphasis on the "strange" part because, when you're so deeply entrenched in your own soul, sharing your space for another almost feels more like learning how to swim rather than an instant "click", sparks, fireworks and whatnot. The excitement of the magical "other" has been long since drowned and snuffed out of you.

So, when this somebody who is similar to you, or just simply understands, doesn't try to change you or ignore you, but instead envelopes you and adores you, the appreciation is deep and overflowing. But there's a part of you always pinching your heart, a sort of awareness of something that isn't the case, wondering "Is this a dream? what if it is and I'll wake up and this is not at all what I was thinking?".

Haha... ANYWAY, sorry for the slightly morose and LONG read 😂 But I always think of how similar I am to how you write alastor and it's scary in a way, but comforting (especially since he's my first and biggest fictional crush) except in this case my profession would actually be burlesque. Especially since I work in the exotic dance world. It's fascinating being aro/ace in the SW world, I could go on forever- But yeah, I absolutely love your writing!! Makes me feel less alone in this world. Annnd surprisingly I always feel so sensual after reading, I love love love it!! Reading before work always gets me in the mood to dance and pretend I'm Y/N, lol!!

Much blessings ❤️❤️

*cracks knuckles* listen here babycakes, I eat this shit UP. Exploring Human Ace Alastor is my BREAD AND BUTTER. I go into ESSAYS in the AO3 comments in this 😂

you really understand, which makes me so happy and is confirmation I’m conveying him the way I want to.

Now I’m gonna ramble and echo you basically 😂

I really think Alastor (atleast in this story) feels that excitement and strangeness of how open he can be around Autumn (since she doesn’t have a proper name cuz she’s reader 😂). He’s a fish out of water despite the fact he’s actually being his most authentic self. Like you said, it’s new to him just to be … Alastor. To be honest and upfront. His normal operating mode has been so restricted for so long he’s struggling with how to be himself. And then that fear—- well what if I’m too much? What if I ruin this, when I finally have something worth keeping? He’s never gotten this far and the fear of losing that comfort is terrifying but so is the actual comfort itself. It’s new and foreign.

A deep uneasiness that’s if he fully embraces this he’s gonna just fuck it up and it’ll be his fault this time. Not a misunderstanding or misalignment of needs but a confirmation he wasn’t good enough anyway.

“it is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all” he would say that’s bullshit

and because of the situations he’s been in before, he’s never gotten to actually explore physical intimacy in a “safe” environment. He was always going into interactions because he had to if he wanted to keep people around. It was a necessity, not something he actually sincerely wanted to participate. So he tried to keep them happy with other means of affection and intimacy to maintain some safe distance but eventually, always, things would fall apart. At a distance or up close.

that’s why that most recent part was called Learning. Alastor is trying new things to learn more about what he’s okay with or doesn’t care for even offering in the future. Autumn is learning (that night, tho she doesn’t understand it yet) that he’s still figuring out how to meet her halfway (even tho she’s not even asking for that) when he’s used to being forced to meet people where they are. And Detective Brady, of course, is learning he may have found motive for Tommy’s disappearance.

I’m really glad you’re enjoying his portrayal and that you’re resonating with parts of him! That makes my soul hum! 💖 your line of work mixed with your Aro/Ace-ness sounds like such an interesting conversation if we’re honest! That’s a small aspect I love about Autumn. She’s in this field that’s (wrongly) considered to be hyper sexual and full of air headed wanton whores, but she’s the first person to be like “oh! You aren't into this stuff. Let me adjust my expectations. I’ll ask for clear verbal consent, not initiate, and I’m totally okay with never fucking again if it’s for your love and company.”

I work in the SW industry in a sense (Personal Assistant) and one of my biggest pet peeves is all of the shit people project on SWers.

sorry for the essay I could talk about this for ETERNITY

omg and THANK YOU! 🥺💖💖💖💖

Referencing:

A Doe in Fall (Human Alastor x Burlesquer Fem Reader)

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

[101-blueberry-101]

𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨 (𝐀𝐤𝐤𝐮𝐧)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Atsushi Sendo (Akkun) x fem! shy reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: with the help of your bestie, Hinata Tachibana, you find a way to confess to your crush.

Set in 2005 during the time when the Miso Middle Five are forced to fight in Kiyomasa’s fight club.

“H-Hinata-chan! wait!” Hinata Tachibana has been your best friend since primary school. You were shy and so it was difficult to make friends, but she just waltzed up to you and declared that you two were friends.

From that day forward she told you everything and you the same, which just so happened to lead to this one horrible moment.

“Hinata-chan please leave it! I’ll just stay lonely forever” you said in a somewhat hushed voice as you tried yet failed to pull her back.

“Oh, come on y/n, Takemichy-kun is friends with him so I’ll just go ask him” Hinata said, a smile plastered on her face as she marched her way over to the Mizo Middle Five.

y/n have a little squeak seeing that they were just a few feet away. She quickly let go of Hinata and went to hide close by, scared of what Hinata was gonna ask and Embarrassed by his answer.

“Hello!” Hinata jumped in front of them, causing Takemichy to burst out all happy and flustered stumbling over his words.

“Sorry Takemichi-kun but I’m not here for you right now” Hinata said holding a hand up towards him, crushing his soul. “I’m here on strict girl business” Takemichi’s friends laughed at him.

“You” the boys stopped laughing as Hinata pointed to their leader. “You’re Sendo Atsushi right?”

“Uh yeah?” Akkun, as everyone called him, looked at her confused.

Hinata stared at him for a bit, “what’s your dream girl?” the boys stopped, and y/n visibly cringed peeking to look at the boys from where she was hiding.

“What! Hina Noooo!”Takemichi cried, “please don’t leave meee!”

Hinata giggled at him, “it’s ok silly, I told you I’m here on strict girl business remember?” Takemichi whipped his tears. “Now you!” She looked back at Akkun waiting for an answer.

“Uhm, well I guess I really like a girl with long hair and a nice personality” Hinata nodded listening.

“oh and don’t forget big boobs” Makoto said making weird gestures.

“you perverts!” Hinata yelled before Slapping Akkun hard.

“Man, why did I get slapped?” He said rubbing his cheek as he stared and watched as Hinata walked away grabbing someone who was hiding behind a wall.

“Haha” The group laughed, “You got a feisty one there Takemitchy” Said man grumbled saying not to say that.

“c’mon y/n” Hinata grabbed the girl dragging her away, “hmph! all those boys, except for Takemitchy, are all perverts!”

“h-huh! but no, Sendo isn’t like that” she said. “but what did he say?” y/n asked curiously.

Hinata stayed quiet for a moment, before sighing and telling her what he said. “I don’t know what you see in them”

“I only like Akkun, the others kinda scare me and make me nervous. Actually they all make me nervous” y/n gave a little chuckle.

‘so he likes long hair?’ y/n thought to herself, her hands absentmindedly going to her hair running her fingers through it.

*ring*

“Ah, guess we better get going to class now” y/n said quietly as Hinata nodded her head.

“I’ll see you after class! bye bye!” the two skied before parting ways.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

“Now that I’m thinking about it, is there anyone you guys got the hots for? I know I’d totally hit that girl in math, uhh what’s her name?” Yamagishi said as the rest of them laughed.

“You’re totally not a ladies man, can’t even remember a girls name?” Akkun said shaking his head.

“Yeah well what about you huh? it was Tachibana who asked you the question” the others agreed with him.

“I dunno. Never really thought about it” He said leaning back in his chair.

“well if you had to pick one?” Makoto said, joining Yamagishi in his questioning towards Akkun.

“why’s it so important huh?” he said, “But, I guess if I had to pick one, it’d be y/n”.

“Hmmm, y/n- oh! she’s the one in history with the big boobs right?” (sorry if you don’t) Yamagishi said earning a slap over the back of his head.

“Don’t say it like that man!” Akkun looked at him sternly as Yamagishi rubbed the back of his head.

“right, my bad” he said sheepishly.

A silence fell over the group, “also I’ll be the one fighting today” the boys stayed silent looking down slightly.

“heh, you guys doubting my skills” Akkun said trying to lighten their spirits.

“yeah right! you’re totally gonna win today” one of them said

“that’s why you’re our leader”

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

It was now late in the night and cram school had finally ended. y/n was walking down the long road, hoping to be in the comforts of her home soon.

“Damn, that son of bitch really did a number on me” y/n stopped in her tracks hearing an all to familiar voice. She came to the top of a said of stairs leading down towards the voice.

“Sendo?” She said quietly, seeing his plum hair.

“oh, L/N hey” He said turning to look at her with a smile on his face. His face that was bloodied and bruised.

“Ah! oh my! are you ok” she quickly hurried down the stairs, to come face to face with him. Her shyness going away for a second as she grabbed his face checking over him.

“what happened?” she asked worriedly as he stared at her with wide eyes. She paused before taking her hands back, “I’m sorry i didn’t mean to!” she quickly bowed as he gave a light hearted laugh.

“it’s fine, and I’m ok.” he said flashing her a smile.

“But you’re covered in blood and your face is all bruised” she looked at him sadly.

‘Hm, I want to help but I don’t know how. what would Hinata do’ y/n thought to herself.

“Hmph!” Akkun looked at her confused, before he felt a harsh tug on his wrist.

y/n feeling a burst of confidence had grabbed his hand and began dragging the boy away.

“ah? I’m ok really L/N” he said sheepishly.

“well- e-even if you are, I’m still going to help you” she said. “My house isnt to far from here so I’ll take you there and wash that blood off you”

“thanks” He smiled at her, “oh Also you don’t have to call me Sendo” she turned back to him confused.“earlier you called me Sendo”

“oh. well ok, then you can call me y/n to make it fair” she said turning away from him her face flushed red as she continued to tug him along.

Akkun smiled looking up to the sky as he shoved his other hand into his pocket.

“I really like you” y/n paused.

“h-huh?!” y/n let go of his hand turning to look at him. “y-you like me?!”

“hah sorry-” “-why?” the two stared at each other.

“what do you mean why-” “-why are you sorry” the two stopped and laughed.

“Of course I like you” Akkun turned away and scratched the back of his neck, “you’re really sweet and kind” Akkun smiled at her. “sorry guess it’s kind of out of the blue”

y/n once again grabbed his hand and began dragging him back in their path. “I-I like you to!” y/n said not daring to look at him as she felt her shyness come back making her all nervous.

Akkun stared at her wide eyed, “so if I like you and you like me, does that mean you maybe wanna be my girlfriend?” he asked making y/n’s face flushed red as a darker shade of red.

She nodded unable to speak. Akkun chuckled “sweet”

Hey! sorry if there not a lot of like romance and stuff but I tried my best! hope you guys liked it!!