#its probably more obvious who she is based on though

[iimplicitt]

OFF TO THE RACES | LN4

parings: lando x cowgirl unnamed fem! character (faceclaim bella hadid)

summary: the mclaren team gets taken to a rodeo ahead of the austin grand prix. lando takes the saying; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” a little too literally. let’s take Jesus off the dashboard, he’s got enough on his mind.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, car sex (it’s crime don’t do it), unprotected p in v (also don’t do this), one night stand, lando in a cowboy hat, hickeys, spitting, praise, size kink? kind of, lando has a thing for making her cry (in a good way), social media posts towards the end

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i’m a born and raised texan so don’t come for me with the stereotypes in this LET ME DREAM

Sweat coated his skin as they walked, the road cracked and uneven as they made their way up to the exposition center turned rodeo. It was Zak’s idea, a bonding experience he said for Lando and Oscar even though that was completely unnecessary. They probably spent too much time together as is.

Their boss smiled at them, already sun burnt a bit as they got closer and closer to the blaring country music. “You can’t get a more American experience than this!”

Lando and Oscar looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads, smiling despite how ridiculous this all seemed. Lando had no interest in watching animals run around in dirt while shitty music blared through speakers all the while someone’s beer might be spilling on him. Then again, maybe he was being cynical and the South was about to be full of surprises.

The whole venue was crowded, making it seem even hotter despite the setting Texas sun. There was a carnival going on as well, a good chunk of people still running around playing games or going on rides. The other half were pouring through the large open doors, the Mclaren Formula One team being a part of it.

It was loud, the metal ceiling and walls echoing the sound of music and people talking and shouting. It was lively, he could admit that. Maybe it would even be fun drunk, but that was a big no go in regard to the rule book of a race weekend.

Someone met them near the entrance, a man who clearly worked with the venue based on the obvious cowboy get up he had on. Boots, hat, the whole thing. Zak did most of the talking while Lando and Oscar looked around curiously, watching as people bustled about and waving at those who recognized them.

Eventually they were led to a section close to the floor, front row seats to all the action. Neither driver really knew what to expect, but the very last thing Lando was anticipating was seeing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on riding out on horseback.

He was awestruck immediately, his eyes not leaving her as she made her way around the perimeter, smiling and waving as she went. Fuck, she was stunning. Her skin was tan and glowing, her grin bright and brown hair tucked loosely under a cowboy hat. He felt his heart skip a beat as she got closer and closer to where he was sitting, and Lando became acutely aware of himself as he leaned his elbows against the railing. Hoping he didn’t look like a dumbass and for once hoping he didn’t look too British.

Would she even be interested in an Englishman? The thoughts running through his head were ridiculous but everything seemed to go mute as she passed right by him. Tipping her hat down and sending him a wink before the horse continued on its path.

“Careful mate, I think you’re drooling.” Oscar laughed from next to him, nudging him knowingly.

“Shut up, Osc.” Lando barely spared his teammate a glance before he tracked his gaze back to her. Watching in awe as she did whatever the hell she was doing, maneuvering the horse expertly around obstacles, dirt kicking up around her but her face didn’t give anything away but pure determination and focus. He’d never seen anything so graceful.

The rest of the night he kept an eye on her whenever he was able to, his gaze flicking up to the big screen to catch her name anytime she was shown on camera. When she laughed at something her friend said, her head thrown back and eyes crinkling, he thought the earth was opening up underneath him with the desperation to hear the sound of it.

When the rodeo was over, Oscar just about had to drag him away from the railing to get him to leave. “I’m sure this is how your fans feel,” the Australian joked, not at all bothered by the glare Lando was throwing his way.

“I’m not her fan. Merely an admirer.”

“And I'm sure that’s the mindset all your fans have. Besides,” he gestured to where a decently large group of men were waiting near the exit at the back of the expo center shouting her name. “Seems she already has groupies.”

Lando ticked his jaw, not seeing how waiting around would help them at all. He didn’t want to pull the I’m an F1 driver card because then he’d come off like a complete arse. So, cutting his losses he followed everyone else and headed into downtown Austin to find a bar to attend.

Not that he saw the point given; no drinking.

The music was even louder in the bar that was also combined with that he knew very little about like line dancing. Mulling over his water as he scrolled through his phone, he hesitated for a moment before typing her name into instagram.

“Christ,” he muttered. Every time he saw her she seemed to get prettier.

He debated on following her but he knew someone somewhere would take notice and spin it into something it’s not. Even if he wished there was something to blow out of proportion.

Someone bumped his arm and his thumb hit the follow button.

Lando blinked at his phone for a moment, watching her follow count tick up by one and he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting out a sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket, no point in undoing that hiccup given she’d see the notification. Some small part of himself, or maybe a larger portion, wanted her to take notice. Take an interest, and maybe follow him back. Hell, he’d beg the universe for a DM if he had to.

Oscar appeared and gestured with a hand, smiling as if he knew something. “Look who it is.”

Following his friend’s gaze, Lando looked around before his eyes fell on what Oscar was looking so fucking smug about.

There she was, barely twenty feet away and leaning against the bar. Her smile was contagious as she talked with her friends animatedly with her hands.

“Go and talk to her.”

Lando spun around, looking at Oscar as if he just suggested he commit suicide. “What?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Since when are you nervous when it comes to girls? Just go and say hi.”

“I’ll look like a stalker who followed her here from the rodeo.”

“Right, like she even remembers seeing you.”

Lando's hands went to cover his heart, his features warped into offense. “Ouch, Osc. Low blow.”

The Aussie was hearing none of it as he lightly took hold of Lando’s hoodie and shoved him in her direction. “Thank me later.”

His annoyance wasn’t all that genuine, in fact he was thankful for the shove of encouragement as he made his way over to her. Fuck, was his hair alright? Did he smell bad? He’d been sweating all day. He hadn’t even talked to her yet and she had his mind reverting back into his insecure teenage self.

She caught his eye before he was too close, recognition flashing briefly across her face as her friends continued to talk. Her smile slipped into something more sultry- more knowing. Like she knew exactly why he was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got approached a lot, she was stunning.

He came to a stop, her friends' voices slowly fading into silence as they all looked at him. The air tense and a bit awkward but he forced a casual laugh. “Hi.”

Was that really all he had?

She bit her bottom lip, clearly amused by him before he was finally graced by the sound of her voice. “Howdy.”

Even that was heavenly.

“Do people here really say that?” Stupid non flirtatious things were pouring out of his mouth.

Her and her friends laughed, looking at him as if he was a court jester and he wanted to punch Oscar next time he saw him.

“Do you really say cheerio?”

This time he laughed, feeling more relaxed and he shook his head. “No, I don’t at least.”

Her pale green eyes slated to her friends for a moment, something silent passing between them and before he knew it they were alone. She gestured her head for him to come and stand beside her and Lando obliged like a lovesick puppy.

She leaned in close, the smell of her perfume mixed with polished leather was addictive and he wanted to bottle up the scent and keep it forever. “For the record,” she began, her accent light but noticeable. “I do say howdy as a greeting.”

He grinned at her, leaning down to match the level of her gaze and her slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his features and for the briefest moment her gaze danced over his lips. Making him feel dizzy and he wondered what the woman was doing to him.

She leaned back slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I saw you at the rodeo earlier.”

“I’m glad I’m memorable.”

“You’re hard to miss. You don’t exactly scream you’re from the south. Especially wearing this when it’s almost a hundred out.” She tugged lightly at the string of his hoodie, her lips pulled back in a playful smile and he wished he could just grab her and kiss her. The thought was overwhelming but he had to remind himself not to be an absolute creep.

“Well, it seems the stars are aligning then. I was hoping I’d get to run into you at some point.”

“You sure you didn’t stalk me Mr. Norris?”

He blinked at her. “You know who I am?”

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink as she waved her phone at him, his instagram page glowing at him and he shut his eyes. “That was an accident and a coincidence that you happened to be here.”

“Aw, and here I was being flattered.” She scrolled through his page, a giggle leaving her as she came across a picture of him in the ocean with mud all over his face and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“No, don’t look-“ he tried to cover her screen with his hand but she took hold of his wrist and playfully shoved him away.

“This is golden.” She laughed. “This is what millionaires get up to?”

“You’re looking at all the wrong pictures.” He tried to reason, surely blushing as he made to cover her phone again and she pushed him away, this time with her hip and he felt his mind slip into a numbness that craved her touch again. She was pressed against him now, laughing for another moment before she eventually followed him back.

Her back pressed against his chest, turning to look at him over her shoulder and flashing the screen at him. “There.”

He looked down at her and completely ignored the phone, one hand falling to her waist absentmindedly as his other arm kept him upright against the counter of the bar. Her face was so close and he took in every minute detail. The way her skin glowed, dusted with a faint blush. Her nose was adorable and long lashes fanned out over her glowing eyes.

She was breathtaking.

The feeling of pure want coursed through every nerve in his body, acutely aware of the pressure of her against him. Her jeans tight around her hips and thighs before beginning to flare out and her top was snug fitting and complimented her wonderfully.

His grip on her waist tightened and he heard her breath hitch as she blinked up at him, her pupils blown wide and the smile that stretched his lips was anything but innocent.

Lando had her.

They barely made it into the back seat of her truck before his mouth was colliding with hers in a way that was almost violent as they fell back onto the seats. Lando settled himself between her legs, grinding against her in a way that was shattering his sanity second by second.

Her nails raked up from his neck and into his hair, a groan escaping him and being swallowed up by her mouth. She tasted sweet and had the faint taste of whiskey on her tongue, utterly maddening and he would never get enough of it.

“Take this damn thing off,” she managed to say between bites and kisses, tugging impatiently at his hoodie.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands blindly taking hold of the hem of the fabric before breaking away for a moment to rip it over his head. The truck was a bit cramped but he’d make it work, his mind was consumed by her at the moment and he wanted this to last for an eternity.

Her nails dragged down his body, letting out a content sigh as she took in the sight of his tanned skin and muscle, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of his trousers and the way she looked up at him would’ve been enough to send him over the edge. The sight was heavenly and the innocent look to her in that moment as her brown hair fanned out around her like a nimbus was devastating.

Lando reached forward and took hold of her cowboy hat that had gotten knocked off and placed it on his head, sending her a wink.

When a mewling sound left the back of her throat he raised a brow at her and he felt his cock get impossibly harder. Lando smiled down at her knowingly as he began to undo his belt. “Is this really doing it for you, darling?”

Her eyes nearly looked black with desire as her gaze trailed up from what his hands were doing to his face. “You have no fucking idea.”

He tugged his belt off and tossed it to the side, but before he worked on undressing himself further his fingers danced out and began undoing each button of her too tight shirt. Her breasts had already been tugging at the seams so when he popped one open they practically spilled out for him. No bra and on display and the sound that left him felt primal.

Lando needed her. All of her. Everywhere and every second of the day. If he could have her the way he wanted as he pleased he even considered fucking her in the middle of the paddock if she let him.

His fingers trailed down further and made easy work of her belt and zipper before he leaned back and took hold of each of her legs to rest them on his shoulders. “Lift up for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate as she lifted her hips for him and the immediate submissiveness made his mind melt into a puddle of pure desire. He tugged her boots off and then her jeans, and when the sight of her lacy white underwear graced his vision he suddenly wished they would’ve had the patience to get to the hotel.

“Fuck, I bet you taste incredible.”

But there was simply no room. He half debated on saying fuck it and bring her to the bed of the truck so he could ruin her in every way he was dreaming about, but that would probably lead to an arrest and a very unhappy meeting with the team and stewards.

“Please.” Her tone was needy, desperate even as she lifted her hips to him in an attempt to get her closer. There was already a damp spot appearing and Lando wanted to take her away and keep her to himself for the rest of his life.

“Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, his fingers dancing down her thighs and delighting in the way she trembled against his touch. “Tell me what you need.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought it might bleed and his hands dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, earning himself a moan from the back of her throat. “Use your words, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Fuck me, please.” She yanked his hips flush against hers by his belt loops. “And please lord, keep that hat on.”

His grin was wicked as he leaned down to capture her lips again, open mouthed and sloppy. His tongue dancing against hers and exploring, teeth clinking together as he pulled himself out from his trousers and used his other hand to tug her underwear to the side.

Lando never skipped foreplay but he was desperate and so was she. Not to mention she was practically dripping already and when the tip of his cock rubbed against her entrance and clit he shuddered as she let out a gasp, her nails digging into his back.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, darling.”

“Please,” she choked out, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck and kissing him.

When Lando sank into her till his hips were flush against hers he knew he finally found salvation. Purpose is what it felt like. The missing part of his life that he hadn’t even been aware of but now made him whole. He groaned into her mouth, matching her moan.

She was so warm and tight, the muscles of her cunt clenching around him. “You take me so well,” he ground out as he pulled his hips back and watched as he sunk back into her pussy slowly. The sight was other worldly. He wanted to film it but he was now determined that this would not be the last time he had his way with her.

She grinded her hips against him, matching his agonizingly slow rhythm and trying to get more. More satisfaction and he laughed at her desperation before burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he continued the slow pace.

“Lando, harder.” She gasped out, clutching at his shoulder with one hand while her other twined in the curly hair at the nape of his neck that was peaking out from under the cowboy hat.

He pulled back, teeth tugging at her skin before he released it with a pop. He got a little carried away, a hickey on her neck already forming but he couldn’t find himself to care as he got lost in the sensation of her cunt around his cock. She was perfectly made for him.

His hands pressed into the seat on either side of her head. “Open.” His tone was sharp and her lips parted immediately at the command. He smiled as he let saliva drip from his tongue and into her mouth, not giving her a moment to get a grip on reality before he then spit on her at the exact same time he pulled his hips back and snapped them hardly forward, burying his cock even deeper inside her.

She let out a cry, pleasure mixing with pain as he brushed against her cervix before pulling back and dragging against her g-spot, only to repeat the process over and over again. Bending her knees up so he could get a better angle, his thrusts brutal and being driven mad by the sound of his name being cried from her lips.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said through heavy pants, watching her unravel beneath him and when his eyes caught sight on her naval the sound that left him didn’t even sound like himself.

Lando could see the outline of his cock as he fucked her, her smaller and skinnier size making it easier. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby. Look at you.” He pressed a hand gently to her stomach, feeling himself thrust in and out.

She bucked against him at the added sensation, tears streaming from her eyes and leaving pretty trails of mascara down her cheeks.

“Lando, oh my god—“ a scream left her as his other hand began rubbing tight circles into her clit. “I’m gonna—“

“Do you want to come on my cock, darling?”

She nodded, words lost on her and Lando knew he was on the verge of crashing as well. Feeling each of his nerves winding tightly. “Why don’t we come together, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his tone soft. A complete antithesis to the almost violent pace of his cock slamming into her.

He switched the direction of his fingers on her clit. “Now, darling.”

Not a moment later she was convulsing against him, her cunt clamping down in his cock and Lando groaned out her name as he threw his head back, his cum filling her up nicely as the muscles in his stomach clenched. Sweat was coating both their bodies, all the windows completely fogged up and he felt delirious as he collapsed on top of her, settling comfortably between her hips and still buried inside of her.

He could both feel and hear her rapid heart beat, her warm breath coating the side of his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“God, I love the English,” she muttered breathlessly against him and he laughed, loving the way she fit so snugly against him.

“And I’m in love with this form of southern hospitality.”

She snorted, the sound heartbreakingly adorable and he never wanted to let go of her. “All I said to you was howdy.”

He turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Say y’all.”

She raised a brow at him but complied. “Y’all?”

He groaned and kissed her through her laughter. “I’m done for.”

Eventually, and not with any thrill, he had to pull out of her and she shivered as he did so. Picking up his discarded hoodie from the floor, he gestured for her to sit up. “Lift your arms,” his voice was soft and his heart clenched as she smiled at him, doing as told.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he felt like he was struck by cupid’s arrow or something. Lando didn’t want this night to end and he wanted to see her tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. He wanted her by his side till he was rotting away in the earth.

He needed to thank Oscar next time he saw him.

Slipping the hoodie on her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and dusted his thumbs over her cheekbones as he cradled her face. The air was quiet but not tense, a comfortable silence and he sighed slightly through his nose.

“What?” She asked, her brows furrowed and her smile timid. A bit shy despite the events that just unfolded.

“Would it be mental to ask you to come to the race this weekend?”

His eyes caught her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, which were slowly forming into a grin. “I would love to, but I don’t know anything about it.”

He shrugged, pulling her in gently by hooking a finger into the collar of his hoodie she was wearing. “Just cheer for car number four and I’ll be on top of the world.”

She bit her lip, eyes searching his before she nodded. “Okay, but I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“It’ll be fun.” She reached her hands up and straightened the cowboy hat on his head. “Besides I haven’t seen enough of you dressed like this yet.”

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, youruser, oscarpiastri and 307,284 others

landonorris am i doing this right?

photo creds and tour of austin courtesy of youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: THIS IS EVERYTHING

youruser: you are definitely doing this right

landonorris: taught by the best

oscarpiastri: i’m still waiting on a thank you

landonorris: shut up

usertwo: i need to know the tea

userthree: AND WHOS THE GIRL???

f1wags

liked by 56,029 others

f1wags oh? who’s this? potentially a new wag spotted in the paddock this weekend at the usgp and rooting for lando norris!! some sources say they were seen together afterward, but nothing is set in stone yet! pictured is; youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: OH MY GOD THEY WOULD LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

usertwo: right?? i hope it’s true

userthree: lando dating a cowgirl is not something i knew i needed

userfour: ew? really? not an american LMAO

userfive: she’s literally stunning what do you mean

usersix: the way she was screaming and cheering for him has me SOBBING she already seems so supportive

userseven: everyone needs to chill we don’t even know if they’re together, just because they follow one another doesn’t mean anything

usereight: you must be fun at parties

youruser

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, iamrebeccad and 67, 892 others

youruser south side of heaven

*tap to load more comments*

userone: PLS TELL ME THATS LANDO

usertwo: oh my god?? all the wags liking it???

userthree: CHAT PLS I NEED HER AND LANDO TO BE REAL

userfour: he’s been seen in texas NUMEROUS times over the break istg i think they are dating

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 702,299 others

landonorris happy birthday pretty girl

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh. my. GOD

usertwo: I KNEW IT

carlossainz55: the black and white made me think she had passed

youruser: i thought i missed my own funeral

landonorris: i hate you both

userthree: IM LOSING MY MIND WKSKSJW

userfour: he looks so happy IM SOBBING

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[mmywanda]

Dandelion — W.M

chapter one of Forbidden Pleasure

—

Pairing: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family's business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring. men & minors dni!

Warnings: None.. yet ;)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: My first series! I promise it’s going to get more exciting soon, this was just setting things up.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

—

You'd never been into business. Despite your family being famous for their own very successful company, Nexus. No, you preferred working in that little library, where it was quiet, and the most stressful it got was when someone returned their books too late. Why would you want to be involved in a business full of money hungry people who think of nothing but financial success?

So that was precisely what you told your father when he called you up one Saturday morning, trying to persuade you into following in the footsteps of the majority of your family. And what didn't help your case was the fact you'd be laid off from your job, as there wasn't enough funding in the library to keep all four employees.

"I don't want to be a part of it, dad, I've told you this so many times." You spoke between chews, the crunch of your slightly burnt toast echoing through the call.

"You're twenty two, (Y/N), it's time you step up and join us. You could be valuable to the team."

You rolled your eyes, "And what value would that be?" Both of you knew that you'd passed through college with barely average results, and was lucky to have found a decently paying job that didn't require better grades.

"You're good with people, we need that."

Glancing over at the small stack of bills across you on the kitchen table, you sighed. "I don't want it to change me." What if you turned into an emotionless robot? And had to work behind a desk everyday? And that desk may be on the twenty fourth level of a glass tower building?

"You won't change, I know you."

Doubt swirled around in your mind, eyes scanning the small apartment you lived in. You would have to find a job soon, though it would be difficult given your low qualifications and lack of experience. Here you were, being offered a job that would most likely be well paying.

"Fine. I'll do it."

—

The first matter of business was shopping. Your wardrobe consisted of cardigans, faded jeans, a skirt you refused to ever wear again and a few shirts that looked very outdated compared to the modern city you lived in.

Walking into a clothing store that wasn't your typical go-to was scary. You'd chosen a different one so you could find more professional outfits— because you'd probably be kicked out of the office if you were to walk in wearing your usual attire.

"May I offer you some assistance?" A woman appeared in front of you almost two seconds after you'd stepped through the automatic doors. Her eyes scanned you, as it was obvious this was your first time in that store.

You smiled, shaking your head, "No, it's okay thank you. I'm just browsing." When she left with a nod, you walked to the pants section, looking at the wide selection of styles, material and colours. You didn't even know where to begin. Eventually you decided that darker shades like grey, black or navy would be appropriate. Picking a few out, you folded them over your arm, ready for the dressing room later.

Next was shirts, that just like the pants, had a very large selection, perhaps even more. A sigh left your lips.

Twenty minutes later you'd accumulated clothing items and two pairs of shoes. It was a bit of a struggle to get to the dressing rooms, and once inside a cubicle, you dropped the pile onto the stool. Another sigh left your lips. Is this what business people went through every year? Well, probably every month, based on what you knew of business people. Granted, your only knowledge of business style was from The Office, and it wasn't like that show was renowned for its fashion sense.

Trying on a few outfits, matching different things, you decided on what you would purchase. Making your way to the cashiers, you avoided the gaze of the store assistant.

"That will be three hundred and eleven dollars, fifty cents." The cashier's bright smile almost smoothed over your shock, but not quite. Three hundred and eleven dollars?!

As much as you wanted to apologise and leave to find a store that had cheaper prices, you wouldn't be able to handle the judgemental stare of that woman. So, you got your card out and pressed it against the card reader. When it let out a double beep, indicating it hadn't been approved, you tried again, to which the cashier said, "You have to put your card in. The contactless limit is two hundred."

Your face flushed. If it wasn't obvious that you hadn't spent this much money before, it was now.

That evening, you laid on your couch, staring at the cracks in your ceiling, instant ramen in a bowl, cooling down from its boiling temperature. You thought about what would happen tomorrow, your first day in the office. Well, you knew you wouldn't have a desk job exactly, you'd be more like an assistant to any of the managers or executives— whatever that meant.

Trying to shake your mind of all the worries, you ate your ramen, despite it burning your tongue. At least it was a distraction from the overthinking anyway.

—

You woke up with a start, phone alarm blaring. Your first instinct was to sit up, but an ache in your neck forced you to pause. It seemed you'd fallen asleep on the couch, head having been in an awkward position all night. You thanked the you from yesterday who set the alarm in preparation and had placed the phone beside you.

It didn't take long to put your chosen outfit on, but what did take long was pleasing the perfectionist in you. You stood in front of the mirror for a while, adjusting your hair this way and that, fiddling with the simple silver necklace you were wearing.

"It's no big deal, (Y/N), you're not going to meet anyone important on your first day."

That's what you kept telling yourself during your journey to the office building. It took a train and a four minute walk until you reached your destination. Walking into the lobby, you were struck by how sharp, clean and unnecessarily big it was. Pale marble flooring, bright white walls, even brighter ceiling lights despite it being a sunny day outside. And the very large 'NEXUS' logo on the far wall. Your shoes squeaked against the marble, and you wondered what sort of material the soles were made out of. Perhaps the marble was made to mock people with shoes worth less than a thousand dollars.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked as you approached him. You smiled, masking your nerves.

"I'm (Y/N), I'm meant to be starting my job today."

He nodded quickly, suddenly sitting up straighter, you assumed because he believed he would get in trouble if he wasn't the most professional he could be in front of his boss's daughter. You then noticed his name badge that read 'Evan'.

Evan picked up the reception phone, tapping a few numbers before speaking, telling someone that you had arrived. The conversation was short.

"Take the elevator to the ninth floor, first door on the right." He pointed you in the right direction. You gave him your thanks and then found yourself inside the small metal box also known as an elevator. You hated them, though you guessed it would have to become part of your routine now.

Once arriving on the ninth floor, you examined the decor— plain walls with an occasional framed art piece (the kind that looked like a toddler had painted that would sell for millions).

Hearing distant voices coming from various closed doors, you decided dallying wouldn't make the start of shift any easier. You found the first door on the right, knocking lightly until you heard a familiar voice call out— "Come in." So you did.

The office was spacious, a desk in the middle, and seating behind it was your father. He gave you a warm smile, standing up with an outstretched hand. You mentally sighed at his usual strange way of greeting family members. You shook his hand before taking a seat in front of him.

"It's good to see you here, when was the last time you visited?" He prompted, clicking his silver pen against the table.

"A few years ago, the Christmas party."

You remembered it begrudgingly. The night you fell onto a table that happened to be seating several ice filled buckets for the champagne. Let's just say it was an extremely humiliating memory that always made you shiver. The chill of the ice had never quite escaped you.

Your father chuckled, nodding as he recalled the same night. "Ah, yes. How could I forget." You rolled your eyes, refusing to smile until he changed the subject. "Anyway, let's talk business."

He pulled out a new planner journal, handing it to you. Flicking through it, you noticed a lot of dates neatly jotted in. You gave him a questioning look.

"My assistant kindly added important dates and meetings."

Your eyes widened slightly, "I'm going to join meetings?" That was something you hadn't expected.

"As a note taker, for now." His expression showed how keen he was for you to progress in your role and reach a high position in the company on your own. He wasn't going to get you a higher job just because you were his kid.

Scanning the dates written down for the current week, you saw there was a meeting scheduled for today. Anxiety immediately bubbled inside you at the thought of being in such a professional setting with equally professional people, as an inexperienced ex-librarian.

"Don't worry, (Y/N). It's not a huge deal." He hesitated, before correcting himself. "Okay, it is a big deal."

You groaned, leaning back in the chair that you had to admit was very uncomfortable. "What is it about? Stock shares or something?" It was very obvious that you pulled the term out of your very limited knowledge on business that lived in the back of your brain, because your father's eyebrows creased in amusement.

"It's our annual meeting with Maximoff Industries. And let's just say our companies have difficulty clicking."

The name 'Maximoff Industries' was familiar. You knew that they created things in the technology area, and as it so happened, Nexus did too, so it was no wonder they didn't 'click'.

"How do they normally go?" You had to gauge how terrible the experience would be for you. Scenarios ran through your mind, the most rational being; raised tones, interrupted sentences, perhaps even a few cold glares (gasp).

"We have a small partnership in a few products, so the disagreements normally stem from financial shares, and what name is listed first under the annual report. It normally ends in a handshake though." He attempted a smile, but it was clear that he had a very strong distaste for Maximoff Industries. "It doesn't help that their CEO, Wanda Maximoff is a.. difficult person to get along with in terms of business."

"Why?" You asked, wanting to know what to expect in the meeting, even if you were going to be sitting in the corner.

Your father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She's.." He thought for a long hard moment. "She has this look, like she knows more than you, like she's superior. And she very obviously craves control over every situation without explicitly expressing it. It's infuriating, but hard to explain."

It didn't seem like much to go on; having a certain expression and craving control. Wasn't that a description of half of the earth's population?

Your father checked his watch, "It's going to start in twenty minutes." You internally panicked, because you hadn't expected things to start so soon. He smiled kindly, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"It's okay, (Y/N), you're not going to be talking." That didn't exactly reassure you, because it meant you would have to maintain a calm act in case anyone looked your way.

"Alright, let's do this." Faking positivity was the first step, right?

—

The meeting room was empty when you and other representatives from Nexus walked in, including your father. They all took their seats, presumably their allocated ones. There was a chair set aside from the very long table, which you guessed was for you. Sliding it backwards a bit, you sat, spending a very awkward minute trying to decide how to position your legs. Should you cross them or not? Before you could come to a decision, you heard people entering the room.

You looked up, counting five very professional looking businesspeople. Thinking that was all, you opened your notebook, until you sensed one last presence. Glancing across the room, a woman entered.

She was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and heels. Hair brunette with lighter streaks, eyes a deep shade of green. But the overriding feature of this woman was her aura. Everyone in the room fell silent, most of the Nexus members seemed to have a polite but forced smile.

"Ms Maximoff, it's good to see you." Your father announced, making a small gesture with his hand to indicate for the woman to sit at the opposite end of the table— although she'd already done so.

"Yes, it's a pleasure, Julian." Wanda Maximoff replied, her tone smooth, with an underlying accent you hadn't heard before. It was very alluring all the same. You noticed she'd addressed your father by his first name.

"How have you been? I heard y—" Your father began, until he was cut off.

"Let's just get to business, shall we?" Wanda's hands rested on top of the table, revealing her many intricate and no doubt expensive silver rings.

"Oh, yes." Julian cleared his throat, gesturing to his coworker, a manager to start the presentation. You tried your best to quickly note down the points the manager was making, including comments from the other company.

But you felt your attention slipping, because from your angle, Wanda Maximoff was just to the left of the presentation screen. You were inexplicably drawn to her, the way she held herself, and not to mention her immense beauty.

You were suddenly startled when the face you were staring at turned, green eyes locking with yours. All oxygen left your lungs, not from panic of being caught staring during a professional meeting, but because Wanda Maximoff was piercing. Though her head tilted back to the presentation. Finally you were able to breathe, fingers gripping the notebook edges.

"So what's the point of decreasing the amount of products manufactured if it's in high demand?" Wanda questioned, leaning back in her seat slightly, directing the question towards your father instead of the manager.

He paused, thinking through his answer before replying. "Retailers are going to be bidding higher prices in order to stock it."

Wanda Maximoff's eyebrows quirked, a slight upturn of her lips now revealing to you what your father had described earlier; The Look. It indeed felt like she was in control, as if she was negotiating a deal with a child.

"Why don't we ask someone else's opinion?" Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Horror rushed through you as everyone followed Wanda's directed stare. All eyes were on you.

You felt your face heat up, having absolutely no idea what to say or do other than look towards your father helplessly. He nodded his head, as if urging me to speak so they could move on quickly.

"Uh—" Words were failing you. Wanda's expression shifted from expectancy to amusement. She was enjoying your embarrassment, it seemed. "I think it could work.. people tend to want to buy things that are exclusive." You didn't have anything to base that opinion on, but you hoped it sounded more certain than it did in your head.

Wanda's stare remained on you for a few agonising seconds before nodding once, accepting your answer. "Let's take ten, my team need to discuss this." Everyone nodded quickly in agreement. The Nexus members waited for the others to leave the room, but they didn't. Your father let out a very quiet but infuriated sigh at Wanda's blank though slightly smug expression . He stood, muttering to everyone to leave with him, including you. You'd never exited a room so quickly.

Once you were a few metres down the corridor, you exhaled, leaning against the wall, the conversation between your company distant to your ears. You were busy calming down from the humiliation. You hadn't felt this way since falling into a table with ice buckets in this very building.

Why had Wanda singled you out? Surely she knew how uncomfortable that would be for someone who was clearly new.

You needed water. Luckily you knew of the staff lounge that had a supply of refreshments.

The 'lounge' was thankfully empty, consisting of several pristine couches and counter with a kettle and an array of coffees and teas. You headed towards the water cooler. Grabbing a small paper cup, you flicked on the switch for the water to start filling the cup slowly. It was when it reached the halfway mark that you were startled by a voice.

"It's an interesting opinion that you have."

You spun around, facing Wanda Maximoff. It was hard to breathe again.

"Do you know a lot about consumer behaviour?" She asked, emerald eyes fixed on yours. The question stunned you for a moment, not entirely understanding. But you'd done enough reading to be able to guess what her words meant.

"Not really, I just notice what people around me seem to buy." Good, you're doing good— you told yourself.

"You don't do the buying?" She asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, no. I'm the type to keep something until it's completely incapable of doing its job." For example; your toaster.

Wanda's lips twitched into a smile that almost felt like a smirk. "That's an unfortunate attitude to have when you're working in this industry." You swallowed, throat feeling very dry as you still hadn't had that water yet. Wanda seemed to finally notice the cup in your hand.

"Drink."

The simple word felt like a command, and you found yourself raising your cup without hesitation and taking a gulp of water. It felt like a relief to your dry throat. The woman's smile was now definitely a smirk, though what she was smirking at, you didn't know.

"I haven't seen you around here before. When did you start?" The question was a simple one, but the way Wanda delivered it made it seem a lot more important, like she actually interested.

You were just glad it was an easy one to answer. "Today, actually."

She nodded slowly, "You're Julian's daughter?"

"Yeah, he's wanted me here for a while, and I needed a job." You had to tell yourself to just chill out, because you were starting to overthink your answers, despite there being no need to.

Wanda reached a hand out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, inadvertently directing your attention to her hands. The silver rings shaped her fingers perfectly, the dark red varnish on her nails standing out as they brushed against her hair. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away.

"Those plants look half dead."

Your eyebrows raised at her very random statement. Since when did plants become a part of the conversation? You went along with it, noticing the few potted plants and vases with flowers that did look very wilted.

"Do you know the name of that one?" Wanda pointed to a specific plant, green leaves and yellow flowers. You knew nothing about plants.

"Tulip?" It was more of a question than an answer. Wanda let out a chuckle at your painfully wrong answer. She shook her head in amusement.

"Dandelion." She stated, suddenly studying you with some type of curiosity and intrigue. "You remind me of a dandelion."

Your expression was quizzical, wondering why a yellow flower could be associated to you in any kind of way. "Why?"

Wanda smiled mysteriously, carefully leaving the question unanswered as she checked her watch. You could tell by the watch strap alone that it was probably worth more than your student debt. "The break is over." And with that, she began walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. You were stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Realising that the cup was still in your hand, you threw it away, walking as quickly as you could back to the meeting room without embarrassing yourself.

Everyone was in the room by the time you'd survived the walk back. You kept your eyes down and sat in your corner (of shame). The conversations started again, and you tried your best, yet again, to make notes. It was a bit easier to concentrate as Wanda hadn't done any talking yet.

It was boring, really, listening to your father and Maximoff Industries' representatives disagree on very simple things like the font for whatever the damn products they wanted to sell.

Finally, Wanda spoke up after listening to the conversation she appeared to have found just as boring as you had. "Let's do it. Less products for higher sales, as ridiculous as it sounds. Though, something would have to be put in place.”

You glanced up from your notebook, pen hovering above the page. Even Wanda’s own coworkers seemed confused.

“I will have regular meetings with a representative from Nexus, just so I can keep up to date with your side of this new decision.”

You could practically see the cogs in your father’s brain whirring, as he probably didn’t know now if this new idea would be a mistake. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll look at my schedu—“

“It will be (Y/N).” Wanda stated clearly. Once again, you found all attention on you. You were just as bewildered as the other surprised faces.

“Me?” You uttered, cheeks flushed at the idea of Wanda Maximoff wanting to meet you again.

A smile twitched on your lips as she studied you from across the room. You felt the presences around you fade away when your eyes locked with green ones. She spoke in a slow but deliberate way, “You will accept, won’t you?”

Without thinking twice, you simply replied, “Yes.”

—

[p0orbaby]

Dancing in the Dark

summary: a tactics coach and a vice captain walk into a bar… have a not so secret relationship

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic

a/n: i asked for requests and someone sent me this gem

word count: 3.1k

-

Leah texts you at exactly 12:02 a.m., a time she insists is “late enough to avoid suspicion but early enough that we’re not knackered in the morning.” The precision of it is very Leah—practical, calculated, with just the faintest whisper of rebellion. It’s always the same text—Room 308—as if she’s writing it for a stranger who might need the address for their sat nav. She never adds punctuation. You think that’s intentional, a way of keeping it casual, devoid of any intimacy that could be misconstrued.

You’ve stopped bothering to reply. It’s not that you don’t want to see her—want isn’t the word for what you feel when you see her name flash on your screen, but it’s close enough. It’s that typing on my way feels excessive when the answer’s already obvious. She knows you’ll come. You know she knows. And there’s something about that silent agreement that feels like the only part of this whole arrangement that makes sense.

The desk lamp casts a faint yellow glow across the room as you pack up. Your laptop goes into the bag first, followed by the notepad you’ve been using to scribble ideas for tomorrow’s strategy meeting. You pause to carefully align its corner with the edge of the desk—a habit you’ve had since you were a child, though you’re not sure if it’s a quirk of personality or a learned behaviour from years of Catholic school and its draconian rules about neatness.

Your hoodie is next, slung over the back of the chair like it’s been waiting for this exact moment. It’s an old one from university, the logo cracked and peeling, the sleeves stretched from too many washes. It smells faintly of your laundry detergent—a scent marketed as “ocean breeze,” though you’ve always thought it smells more like cheap fabric softener and an overactive imagination. Nothing about it suggests the ocean, or even a breeze. It’s more akin to the air freshener in a Southend-on-Sea rental cottage, the kind with faded floral curtains and a broken kettle. You wonder, briefly, if Leah would find this thought amusing. Probably. She has a way of laughing at things that don’t seem funny until she does.

The hotel corridor is silent, save for the distant hum of a vending machine and the occasional creak of overused floorboards. You walk quickly, your trainers barely making a sound on the patterned carpet—a gaudy, swirling design in shades of burgundy and gold that seems to scream corporate retreat. You keep your eyes trained forward, as if avoiding eye contact with the carpet will somehow render you invisible to anyone who might happen to step out of their room.

You’ve mapped out every staff member’s room, memorised the most efficient route, and calculated the probability of running into someone based on their known habits. Karen from PR always goes to bed early, probably still jet-lagged from the US tour. The physio, Jamie, is a night owl, but he’s more likely to be glued to Netflix than wandering the halls. Leah finds this level of detail ridiculous.

“You’re acting like MI5 is going to raid the place,” she’d said once, sprawled on her bed in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Her hair was still damp from the shower, a faint halo of gold catching the light as she turned her head to look at you. “You’re allowed to have fun, you know”

She’d been peeling off your shirt as she said it, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder, her eyes glittering with amusement. You wanted to argue, to tell her that fun is precisely what you’re having, in the only way you know how to have it: meticulously planned, risk-assessed, and executed with the precision of a military operation. But then her hands had moved lower, and the argument had dissolved into something else entirely. Something much harder to put into words.

-

Room 308. You knock twice—firm, precise knocks that betray none of the absurd nervousness bubbling under the surface. The kind that makes your palms clammy and your chest feel like it’s trying to audition for a drum solo. The knocks are part of a ritual now, as familiar as tying your boots before a match or double-checking the pitch markings. Three sharp raps, never four, because three would seem impatient, and two would feel too casual, as though you’re dropping by to borrow sugar or ask for her Netflix password.

The door opens almost instantly, as if she’s been standing on the other side, waiting for you. Leah’s dressed in one of those oversized T-shirts she always wears off the pitch, the kind that blur the line between effortless and lazy. This one is black, or it might have been once, but it’s faded now, the fabric soft and worn thin at the seams. The logo across the chest is barely legible—AC__ME—as though it’s been through the wash one too many times. You can’t tell if it’s a nod to Arsenal, a subtle homage to Wile E. Coyote’s endless misfortunes, or one of those niche designer brands that only appear on people with a six-figure salary and a curated Instagram aesthetic. It’s probably the latter. Leah strikes you as the kind of person who’d know what Vetements is and pretend she doesn’t care about it while secretly owning three pieces.

“Hey,” she says, stepping aside to let you in. Her voice has this easy warmth to it, like she’s just woken up from the kind of nap that makes you forget what year it is. There’s a hint of amusement in her tone, the faint lilt of someone who’s just thought of something funny but isn’t planning to share it with the group. You’ve always liked that about her—how she can hold a joke in her mouth like a secret, like it’s something she doesn’t owe to anyone else.

“Hi,” you reply, because what else is there to say? Hello feels too formal, like you’ve shown up for a job interview, and anything else—anything softer, more intimate—feels dangerous. Like stepping too close to the edge of a cliff just to see how far you can lean before gravity kicks in.

Her room is a mirror image of yours, down to the garish burgundy carpet and beige curtains that don’t quite close properly. It’s a symphony of stereotypical hotel design, where the furniture all looks like it’s been bolted down as a precaution against theft. But there’s something different about hers, something distinctly Leah. It smells faintly of her perfume, a citrusy Chanel scent you’d once looked for in John Lewis out of curiosity. You’d sprayed it onto one of those paper tester strips, only to feel your lungs contract at the price tag. It smells like sunshine and sharp edges, and now it’s permanently tangled up in your memory of her.

The bed is unmade, the covers thrown haphazardly across the mattress like they’ve been caught mid-escape. One pillow teeters on the edge, a casualty of her apparent inability to sleep neatly. There’s a half-empty bottle of water on the nightstand, its label peeling from condensation. A pair of socks—crew-length, white with a small Nike tick—lie abandoned on the floor near the foot of the bed, one inside out. The room is messy in a way that surprises you. Leah, who is precise and meticulous on the pitch, leaves her personal space in a state of mild chaos. And for some reason, it makes you smile. It’s humanising, like finding out that superheroes still get toothpaste on their shirts.

You step inside, careful not to trip over her trainers—Adidas Sambas in a muted beige tone, scuffed at the edges but somehow still immaculate in their coolness. The door clicks shut behind you, the sound punctuating the silence like a full stop. You turn to face her, and she’s leaning against the dresser now, her hands resting in the pockets of her shorts. She’s watching you, her eyes half-lidded and impossibly blue, the kind of blue that makes you think of open skies and lost afternoons.

“What?” you ask, because the weight of her gaze always makes you self-conscious, like you’ve walked into a room wearing mismatched socks.

“Nothing,” she says, her mouth curving into a smirk. “You just look…” She pauses, letting the sentence hang in the air like an unfinished melody.

“What?” you repeat, a little sharper this time, though you’re smiling too.

“Like you’re trying not to smile,” she finishes, pushing off the dresser and moving closer.

And maybe you are. Maybe you’re trying not to give away how much you like this—the quiet intimacy of it, the way she looks at you like you’re the only person in the world who knows what this feels like. Maybe you’re trying not to admit how much you want to reach out and touch her, to close the space between you with a single step. But you don’t. Not yet.

-

The sex is unhurried, languid. Leah moves with the same precision she does on the pitch, her hands mapping the curve of your waist, the line of your jaw, like she’s planning her next move three steps in advance. It’s the same deliberation you’ve seen in her during matches—the way she reads the game like it’s written in a language only she understands. But this isn’t a match. There are no spectators, no whistles, no rules, just her and you and the slow, deliberate way she’s undoing you, piece by piece.

Her kisses are deep, focused. They land with intent, the kind that makes you forget your own name, let alone the fragile, tenuous boundaries of this arrangement. Her mouth lingers on yours, then moves to your neck, her lips brushing just beneath your ear. She doesn’t bite, not yet, but you can feel her teeth graze your skin, an unspoken promise that leaves you gasping, your fingers curling into the rough fabric of the hotel sheets.

Her fingertips press into your skin—not hard enough to hurt but just firm enough to leave the ghost of her touch behind, as though she’s marking her territory. They trace the length of your back, down your spine, to your hips. Her thumbs skim over the waistband of your joggers before she tugs them down with a kind of casual confidence that feels maddeningly unfair. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She always does.

“You’re so quiet,” she murmurs, her voice low, teasing. She presses a kiss to your collarbone, her hands slipping beneath your shirt to push it up, her palms warm against your ribs. “That’s not like you”

“I’m—” You try to respond, but her mouth finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and the words catch in your throat.

“Exactly,” she says, her voice smug as she moves lower, her lips trailing down your chest, your stomach, her pace agonisingly slow. She hooks her fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and you lift your hips instinctively, barely registering the soft laugh she lets out, the sound dark and smooth like melted chocolate.

There’s no rush. Leah’s always like this—methodical, unhurried. She knows how to take her time, how to keep you teetering on the edge until your body feels like it’s no longer your own. She kisses her way back up, pausing to nip at your jaw, your shoulder, the place where your pulse beats just beneath your skin. Her hand slips between your thighs, her touch deliberate, controlled. And you’re gone.

It’s like a tidal wave, slow to build but devastating when it crashes over you. You’re not sure when you start begging—if it even counts as begging, the broken sounds spilling from your lips without your consent—but Leah doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seems pleased, her smirk pressing against the hollow of your throat as she mutters something you’re too far gone to catch.

At some point, she presses her forehead to yours, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. She murmurs something—low, unintelligible, a slurred mix of swear words and your name. Or maybe it’s not your name. Maybe it’s a prayer. Maybe it’s both. You don’t ask her to repeat it. You’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe, your hands clutching at her back, pulling her closer like you can merge into her, like you can stop time if you just hold on tightly enough.

By the time you collapse onto the mattress, tangled in the hotel’s suspiciously rough sheets, you’re vaguely aware of how loud you’ve been. The walls are thin. The kind of thing where you can hear your neighbour’s TV murmuring away or the occasional flush of a toilet. It’s almost comedic, really, the way you’d tried so hard to avoid being seen earlier, only to make it painfully obvious now. You half expect a knock on the door, some irate teammate demanding silence.

Leah doesn’t seem to care. Of course she doesn’t. She lies beside you, her face flushed, her hair falling loose from the ponytail she’d barely tried to secure. She’s smirking, the way she always does after these nights, like she’s just scored the winning goal and nobody else on the team noticed. Her arm brushes against yours as she stretches out, her skin warm and damp, her breathing slow and even.

-

The next morning, you arrive at breakfast twenty minutes late, a record even for you. You’ve spent the better part of that time in front of the mirror, tilting your head at impossible angles to assess the carnage Leah left on your neck. Hickeys, in various stages of bruise-like blossoming, dot your skin like a battlefield casualty report. You try concealer—two layers, then three—but it only makes you look like you’ve dipped your neck in cake batter. After an extensive wardrobe evaluation, you settle on a jumper with a collar just high enough to obscure the worst of it, but not so high that it screams I’ve made several poor life choices and am now concealing the evidence.

You enter the dining area cautiously, your eyes scanning for witnesses like you’re in the opening sequence of Casino Royale. The room is loud with the sound of clinking cutlery, chairs scraping against linoleum, and conversations overlapping in a way that is both chaotic and oddly comforting. You spot Katie McCabe first, standing by the buffet with a bowl of cereal that is more milk than anything resembling a solid. Her spoon hovers mid-air as she glances at you, then swivels her head in Leah’s direction, who is seated at a corner table, scrolling through her phone like she has never made a suspicious noise in her life.

Katie’s eyes narrow, and her mouth stretches into a grin so wicked it should be trademarked. She sets her cereal down and makes a beeline for you, walking with the kind of determination that belongs exclusively to people with too much time on their hands and absolutely no regard for personal boundaries.

“Well, well,” she says, stepping closer. Her eyes dart to your neck, then back up to your face. “Someone had a busy night.”

You freeze. Instinctively, your hand twitches toward the collar of your jumper, but you stop yourself. Guilty behaviour. Act normal. Be cool. You shrug in what you hope is a convincing display of nonchalance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Katie tilts her head, her grin widening. “Oh, don’t play dumb,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward your neck. “What’s that, then? Tactical bruising? Working on a new game plan?”

“I slipped in the shower,” you deadpan. It’s a lie so bad it physically hurts to say, but the alternative is giving Katie McCabe ammunition, and you’d rather die than give her the satisfaction.

She snorts. “Jesus, you’ve got to at least try with these excuses”

You glare at her, but it’s useless. Katie is like a shark in open water—she can smell blood, and she’s circling. She follows you to the table, sliding into the chair next to yours without so much as an invitation. Her cereal sloshes precariously in her bowl, milk dripping onto the edge of the table. She doesn’t notice. Or doesn’t care.

Leah, of course, is completely unbothered. She’s leaned back in her chair, scrolling through her phone like she’s reading the football section of The Guardian and not actively trying to avoid eye contact with you. Her hair is still slightly damp from her morning shower, and she’s wearing a hoodie that looks suspiciously like yours. Katie clocks the hoodie immediately and raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. Not yet.

“Just to clarify,” Katie says, her voice loud enough to carry to the next table, “are we calling this a team-building exercise or…?”

Leah doesn’t even flinch. Without looking up from her phone, she says, “Mind your business, McCabe”

Katie lets out a delighted laugh, stealing a slice of toast from your plate like she’s earned it. “Oh, it is my business,” she says, buttering the toast with an enthusiasm that borders on offensive. “You lot kept me up all night. Thought someone was being murdered in the next room. Turns out it was just—”

“Katie,” you interrupt, your voice sharp enough to cut through her sentence. Your face is burning, your ears hot enough to fry an egg on.

Katie leans back in her chair, utterly unrepentant. “Relax,” she says, taking a bite of the toast she stole. “Your secret’s safe with me. For now”

She winks at you, a gesture so insufferable you consider lobbing a teaspoon at her head. Instead, you glance at Leah, whose lips are twitching at the edges, betraying the smirk she’s desperately trying to suppress.

You shoot her a glare that you hope translates to I will kill you later, but she only raises an eyebrow, as if to say go ahead, make my day.

Katie’s still watching you, her grin as infuriating as ever. “You’re lucky it was me who heard you,” she says, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “Imagine if it had been Beth. She’d have the whole squad doing impressions by now”

Leah finally looks up from her phone, her expression cool, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eye. “You done?”

Katie holds up her hands in mock surrender, her grin never faltering. “I’m just saying. Maybe next time, try keeping it down. Or don’t. Makes for great entertainment”

You slump in your chair, burying your face in your hands. You can feel Leah’s gaze on you, and when you finally peek through your fingers, she’s smiling. Not smirking, not teasing, but actually smiling, like this is the most fun she’s had in weeks.

You make a mental note to kill her later. Or maybe kiss her. You haven’t decided yet.

[spocks-husband]

It's probably really obvious based on how I write them, but I'm obsessed with the idea of Bruce and Talia being each other's first loves.

Bruce is a young man, still a teenager, barely out of his childhood. He's spent every day since the death of his parents in this horrible downward spiral of pain and darkness and revenge-- until, toward the end of his training, while he's working so hard to channel all his rage into something that can be harnessed for good (he hopes). He begins training with the League Of Shadows and he meets this girl and she's beautiful. She's gorgeous and intelligent and graceful, and she fights with a sword better than anyone he's ever seen. He's a little intimidated by the idea of having her father as an in-law but for this girl he'd press his luck. She likes her chai with extra spice and when it's just the two of them she laughs like the sun and she has these perfect uneven dimples that make his heart jump into his throat. Her hair is so silky and long he can't help but touch it and her eyes are a sparkling shade of sage and she tells him quietly how she wants to see the world through eyes that are not her father's. Bruce has never been in love before, he didn't even believe in it until now, but here he is, and he loves her more than anything.

Talia is a young woman who spends her time wishing and wanting and yearning for that which she can never have. She loves her father-- how can she not, he's all she's ever known-- but she's hungry for a chance to look out at the world he describes with such bitterness, to look at it with her own eyes and make her own judgements of its people. One day, this goofy looking American boy with shaggy black hair and the tensest muscles she's ever seen arrives at their compound to train, and he's beautiful. He's handsome and thoughtful and full of this terrible, agonized darkness that she wants so badly to drain from his soul. She teaches him massage techniques because he's incapable of relaxing his body in the slightest, and he lets her sleep against his chest on warm afternoons when her father is away. She knows deep down that they're never really alone-- there's always someone watching them, she is the Daughter Of The Demon's Head, afterall. She cherishes her time with him, though, because it's all that she possibly can do, because she's only ever heard of this feeling in myths and storybooks-- Talia has never been in love before, she didn't even believe in it until now, but here she is, and she loves him more than anything.

But of course, nothing good can stay forever, he has his destiny and she has hers-- but as the years go by they constantly seem to find each other, over and over again... And every time they do, he sees that girl with the dimples and the silky hair, and she sees that boy with the tense brow and that burning determination, and they both think--

'Good God, what happened to us?'

[therantingsage]

Because I promised this, and I really wanted to do it anyway, here's a really really long-winded rambling dissertation on:

Why N and Uzi secretly dating since before episode 5 is genuinely super plausible and also stupidly hilarious /pos

Under the cut cuz it got obscenely long oops-

Idk where to start, so I'll just cover my bases: why people think they've been in a relationship already in the first place.

We all saw this scene:

And legit it can only be implying one of two things. Either A: this is his confession of feelings for her. Or B: this is him admitting that they've been dating for a while at this point. With the hearts it's pretty clear that this statement is meant to be romantically interpreted, and Nori's aghast reaction confirms that that's how it's being interpreted.

Obviously no matter the interpretation, N only writes that because he can't think of anything else to snap Uzi out of it and thereby stop this confrontation from ending poorly. And it works obviously so good on him for the quick thinking.

Two things that make me lean towards the 'we're dating' interpretation over 'confession' interpretation, though: firstly, he's not writing this to tell Uzi something, he specifically calls out to Nori before writing it. "Hey btw I'm dating your daughter" makes more sense than "Hey btw I like your daughter romantically" because if it was the latter, Nori has far less reason to be mad at Uzi about it rather than N. It's not like Uzi can control how N feels. But if they're dating, that means Uzi is partially to blame for that and Nori can get upset at HER.

Secondly, the awkward wording. Like it's really vague and without the hearts you'd have no reason to assume anything but platonic meaning. But these are words we, and him, have heard before:

...from Uzi, in response to a question about who she is and, by proxy, the nature of their relationship. She says it defensively, follows it up by telling N to shut up. N repeating her wording which, again, is a description of the nature of their relationship....but this time implying something romantic with it, it suggests the idea that it had romantic implications the first time.

I don't think it's far-fetched to say Uzi at least has feelings for N at this point in the story. I don't think anyone's arguing that that's not true. But the idea that 'hang out' means the exact same thing both times is what I'm arguing here. They're dating, but this version of N is a stranger to her. A cute stranger, as she says, but a stranger nonetheless who she isn't comfortable admitting to that she's dating him in the future to his face.

Backing up a bit, Uzi's reaction to Nori's reaction:

This is a clear and obvious parallel to the previous episode, when 'Tessa' says "Don't date my robot, please."

In both instances, someone gets on her case about the idea of them dating, and in both cases she doesn't deny it but instead defends both his and her own agency in the matter. No one is allowed to tell them what to do and Uzi refuses to let anyone try.

When Nori says it, though, she does seem to try and deny it for a moment. "I'm not-" She cuts herself off so we can't say for certain what she was going to say (if anything. it's entirely possible she started that sentence with no plan how to finish it, I do that a lot personally). But that's also because, like, she's Uzi. If this was meant to be a secret relationship, it would probably be her who made that decision. And like with butler N, she has no reason to disclose that kind of information to a stranger. She'd probably try and deny it whether its true or not.

As for when it would've started, after camp is the only big timeskip where we don't have much clue went on during. Cabin Fever is a big episode for them, and the three episodes that come after it are all back-to-back-to-back. The only time it makes sense to have started is sometime between eps 4 and 5.

And guys. Guys.

This, more than anything to me, paired with the idea that they've been dating for a while by the time the most recent couple episodes happen.....doesn't this seem so, so romantic? You could easily call this a love confession! So easily! It sounds like one much more than 'we just kinda are hanging out a lot idk' at least.

Like, rephrase that even a little: "Being with you makes scary things fun. Being with you makes me feel brave. It makes me feel safe. So I want to keep being with you."

And Uzi agrees with that sentiment. He promises to stick with her. And she laughs and smiles with him as he makes the scary thing she's been dealing with into something fun, something they can laugh about. The together line gets repeated in the most recent episode, directly calling back to this scene as well.

Like, just...AGH. In Cabin Fever he says it once as they're falling and a second time once they're grounded. The second time its a question, and one she eagerly answers with physical affection, which is super rare for her. In Mass Destruction its a statement, because he already knows her answer. Its a repeated promise. A vow.

Backing up again. Let's assess some interactions under this context. Assuming they're dating in secret. Because it paints so many things in a different light and basically nothing contradicts it which is fricken wild. This:

Isn't a sheepish Uzi trying to hold her crush's hand in a moment of fear. This is an Uzi who wants to keep their relationship a secret but is so in need of comfort right now she's willing to risk exposing them to get it.

This:

Her being so relieved because she almost watched him die but he's alive he's ok and she doesn't care who sees it because she needs to hug her boyfriend rIGHT NOW GUYS I DON'T CARE I'M HUGGING MY BOYFRIEND-

This whole scene. Uzi interacts with him so gently here. She's not gentle with anybody else at all. She sees him stressed and uses his own "you good?" on him and it's just so dang tender when you think about it. Because no one else can hear them talking to each other. It's just these two sending face texts and everyone else's focus is on the Sentinal so they can afford to be as couple-y in this conversation as they want.

And after:

Blushing because they like each other so so dang much.......sweating bullets because the other two can see them do this. Suddenly without either of them really thinking about it they're being romantic around other people and wow! That's nerve-wracking! Peak young love early-in-the-relationship behavior they ain't slick.

His tone of voice in this scene is gentler I think than we've ever heard from him before (Michael Kovach you are so damn good at your job). His loss-filled fury is cooled in an instant when he realizes how close he came to hurting his girlfriend. It's heartbreakingly gentle before 'Tessa' cuts him off.

And when she cuts Uzi off:

He looks like genuinely pissed at her. "Did you really just interrupt my gf while she was talking?? She's scared and you're disrespecting her tf is wrong with u??"

And like- the fact he was genuinely willing to off Tessa for her. Like he realizes there's a possibility she tried to get his gf killed for no reason and upon her not even trying to deny it he just kills her instantly. Because it's no longer a question of the universe or Uzi. It's a question of Tessa or Uzi, and its a choice his heart has already made before this point.

But here's like. The thing about all this that gets me. This is meant to be a secret relationship, right? Like nobody but them is supposed to know about this. And the fact that we the audience didn't have any reason to assume them to be an established relationship without heavy headcanoning means they did a decent job at that, right?

Guys. Guys.

N is terrible at keeping secrets. Like. Horrendously bad at keeping things on the down-low. Every single time in the series he's supposed to not spill info he like. Fails. It's wild. And because the relationship happens after "Inclusive reflexes!" that means that Uzi damn well knows this and still trusts him to try.

But based on V's reaction to the handholding in Dead End:

I'm honestly willing to bet she knew. She doesn't sound surprised, just annoyed that she has to see it. Which means N probably like, heard her badmouthing Uzi or something and got like way too defensive about it and she clocked him instantly. Because he's bad at keeping secrets. And she doesn't bother mentioning it during any of these episodes out loud because she doesn't care what these idiots do in their free time.

Can you imagine how many hundred close calls they must've had? How many times Uzi must've had to aggressively shush him or cover his mouth because he was going to say something slightly too sappy in public? The only reason we don't get to see the time period between eps 4 and 5 is because it would've been painfully obvious that these two dating is the worst kept secret in the entire bunker. I'm going insane.

Uzi fell in love with a proud himbo and they both know it. It's genuinely a miracle they didn't clue the audience in sooner.

[dingodad]

tags from @atherissss on this post:

#the fact that all the quadrants have an explicit social purpose EXCEPT red romance has always been really interesting to me #people make up shit about quadrants because let's be honest 3 of them are clearly and transparently fake as fuck #the concept of any romance HAVING 'a purpose' would make a pretty interesting point about alternian culture if all four of them had one #but as of right now it just makes red romance obviously more 'real' than all of the others

flushed romance does have a clearly stated mechanical purpose though; "CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FOND[N]ESS". obviously that sounds on its own like the fatalistic wank of a grumpy teenager, but I'm coming to believe this is exactly the trick Homestuck is trying to play on the reader when it comes to the quadrants - because it's exactly the kind of trick it tries to play when it introduces the concept of moirallegience.

the examination of the pale quadrant opens with vague, idealised pleasantries - "the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense" - but then uses this cover to sneak in some really telling worldbuilding: "Some [trolls] are more hot-tempered and dangerous than others, to the extent that if left to their own devices, they would present a serious threat to society [...] Such trolls will have an instinctive pale attraction to a more even-tempered troll, who [...] is obliged to pacify the other".

matespritship is introduced in a way that is far more concise, but is all the more coy for it:

Matespritship is the closest parallel to the human concept of romance trolls have. It plays a role in the trolls' reproductive cycle, just as it does for humans. This is pretty obvious! Not much more needs to be said about this. Moving right along.

again, we get a brief, simplistic summary, followed by specific details on the significance of the quadrant in troll society - though in this case they come in the form of stated similarities to human romance rather than differences. and while it seems broadly true, in the most cursory possible sense, that romance "plays a role" in the human reproductive cycle, the text overtly brushes us along to the next page before we have a chance to really discuss or think about the nuances of such an assumption - even though, all of the comic's themes considered, the idea that romance between 13 year olds has anything to do with reproduction is exactly the kind of thing Homestuck invites you to question! the societal expectation of procreation (be that from Sburb or from Imperial Drones) is one of the central columns holding up Homestuck's plot, and the idea that Sburb seeks children "around the cusp of sexual maturity" is openly discussed. so it seems absurd that the text would really expect us to just take everything it says on this page at sheer face value.

I think the pairing the comic chooses to present as the ultimate example of matespritship demonstrates this perfectly: how "real" you choose to believe matespritship actually is depends entirely on just how "real" you think a romance between characters called "Mom" and "Dad" can really be. and the answer to this question, surely, is 'not that real'? these are two faceless, nameless - identityless - individuals who seem to have formed an immediate attachment to each other based purely on the fact that their assigned titles suggest a heterosexual, reproductive relationship. while our insight into the psychological profile of John's Dad is limited, Act 6 gives us quite a detailed look at a Roxy Lalonde who probably doesn't even like boys that much - she just really, really wants a baby. like the idea of Nepeta and Equius or Feferi and Eridan as perfect heteroplatonic/romantic soulmates, the comic's given exemplar of flushed romance is founded entirely on a form of patriarchal roleplay; and much like the idea that budding romance between children has anything to do with reproduction, this kind of suburban nuclear family roleplay is exactly the kind of thing Homestuck invites you to question rather than take for granted.

[loriache]

World Map Notes: the Elven Northern & Southern Central Continents

These nations are where all the elves in the story except Marcille and Thistle are from. This post collects all the information I could find about these two nations, and included a bit of analysis based on that information.

TL;DR (includes both fact and my speculation):

The Northern Central Continent is a feudal monarchy with a strong class system, as well as strict borders, & could probably be considered an ethnostate. It's deeply hierarchical, and the queen is a traditionalist - so it's probably very structurally biased against non-elves and half-elves.

Elves in the NCC practice cannibalism in some rural areas!

The Southern Central Continent is more diverse, with a large tallman population on its South Coast.

To elves, "Court Magicians" exclusively refer to those serving the elven queen - a prestigious role that seems likely to be only open to nobles.

The SCC may not be a monarchy, though it's not clear what kind of leadership or societal structure it does have.

The NCC will habitually take anyone involved in ancient magic as a criminal to prosecute on their terms, regardless of jurisdiction, but this depends on their political influence and ability to pressure local leaders to agree to extradite the criminal.

Elves VS Dwarves and Gnomes may have been at war around the time of the Golden Kingdom being sealed. This conflict also may be one of the factors pushing the kingdom to be sealed in the first place.

The "Central Region" might be the origin of the "Common Tongue" that our characters speak.

Northern Central Continent

The Adventurer's Bible | p. 132

For this place to have a high quality of life, and also a declining population - especially when it's so close to the Western Continent, which is stated to have poor quality of life - there must be strictly maintained borders and a strong anti-immigration policy. Based on the attitude of the elves, I wouldn't be surprised if it was very difficult to move there unless you are also an elf.

It could probably be considered an ethnostate - and while in these kinds of fantasy worlds, that's pretty common. Take Rivendell, or Moria, in LOTR - they take for granted that these kinds of different fantasy races will live in separate communities.

But that isn't actually realistic, and I think Kui has considered it as more of a politically established status quo rather than an obvious natural result of having magically distinct "races". Which, even in Dunmeshi, I think is a difficult and not-terribly-accurate way to represent politics - racism does not emerge from actual, physical differences between races, after all.

But Dunmeshi's presentation of this idea is interesting, because of the recognition that if there is an "elven nation" which prioritises the interests and rights of elves over other races, that is because there's a deliberate, concerted effort to keep it that way.

But there's a small section of the NCC with a high tallman population - I wonder what kind of community they have, and how they fit into the strict elven hierarchy?

The Adventurer's Bible | pp. 134 & 136

Kabru and Rin, and other kids like them, who are adopted or taken as adopted children(rarely - the way Milsiril treats Kabru is not perfect, but she's deliberately attempting to be better than other elves.... meaning other elves are usually worse)/pets/objects by elven nobles, as well as accomplished or notable individuals who earn the elves' favour/are "invited" to stay (such as they try with Laios at the end of the story) would be an exception.

Other long-lived races could probably (...?) visit, but given the historical conflict between elves, dwarves, and gnomes, I think they'd also be pretty hostile to many of them coming to live on the NCC, even if they see them as more like equals.

Social Structure & Nobility

The Northern Central Continent is an absolute monarchy under a 372 year old queen, Heimeya (IDK what the official romanisation of her name will be).

...With extended "nobility", which are the group that the canaries' guards draw from. We don't get much clarification of what sort of structure their nobility has, what titles there are, and where our characters who are nobles fall into it.

Pattadol (House of Vari), Mithrun (House of Kerensil), and Milsiril (House of Tol) are nobles.

Mithrun's noble house, Kerensil, is apparently a well-known family of investors! I wonder what sorts of businesses they invest in & what the elven economy is like?

Milsiril's house, on the other hand, is a well-known military family. I wonder if Kabru could claim the surname "of the House of Tol". He did go to family gatherings after all. But if he was comfortable doing so and it would be accepted, I would assume he'd have done so when introducing himself to the canaries.

Flamela is a distant relative of the queen, who has additional status due to exhibiting the genetic trait associated with their queens, extremely dark skin.

The queen is a "staunch traditionalist" who wouldn't even acknowledge a half-elf like Marcille. Nice! I really feel bad for Kabru and Rin growing up as tallmen in this sort of culture.

Court Magicians

While generally this is a term for any magic user who serves in a royal court, in the Northern Central Continent it seems to carry a lot of esteem; even just as the daughter of one, Pattadol assumes Marcille has the right to boss her around and to handle highly secret, highly illegal ancient magic secrets.

That makes sense, as in the society of the Northern Central Continent, you'd be directly serving the elven queen. But also, she has enough Court Magicians that Pattadol would not expect to know Marcille's mother's name, but few enough that it would be a big deal and Cithis would know about it if one had a half-elf child.

I don't think it's remotely unlikely based on that to assume that this role is only available to nobles.

A "Court Magician" who doesn't serve the NCC Queen isn't a "real" Court Magician in the eyes of NCC elves. Those short-lived monarchs would be happy just to have an elf around regardless of whether they were actually any good at magic.... according to Cithis.

Magic seems very important to the society of the NCC elves. The queen communicates with her subordinates via familar, and the birds we see surrounding her seem like they are some kind of magic - perhaps not familiars since we see her familiar, but some other kind of scrying?

Also, based on the fact Pattadol assumes a Court Magician would be serving the Queen of the NCC, we can theorise that perhaps whatever structure the SCC has, it isn't a monarchy....? Heimeya is "the queen of the elves", after all - that doesn't sound like there's another elven monarch competing for the title just next door.

Ordinary People

Apparently the NCC is a safe place and life is easy -- but given the strict class system, I kind of expect that varies a lot depending on the family you're born into.

The only elves we meet who are not nobles are the convicted criminal canaries, so it's hard to get a sense of what life is like for them from that. Cithis was apparently a wealthy fortune teller with "an intense jealousy for those born noble or wealthy." So I assume she was not born into comfort.

Apparently "There are also primitive villages deep in the woods and underground, and in some regions cannibalism is still practiced." Which is awesome. Based on her videogame elves art I think Kui's probably making a little nod to Divinity: Original Sin elves, who can absorb memories through eating the flesh of others. Elves in dungeon meshi don't have this trait, but I wonder if there is a magical ritual or some kind of cultural practice with a similar intention.

Cuisine

Marcille's mother didn't think much of the elven cuisine.

Liricmumwarel is fancy candy given out by the elven queen the shape of which conveys blessings.

Elf Cake is a crumbly dry cake that Kabru and Thistle don't think much of. I've heard someone discuss what it's likely to be made of, but I am afraid I don't recall.

Southern Central Continent

The Adventurer's Bible | p. 132

It seems like the Southern Central Continent gets a lot more immigration and has a more diverse population, especially along the south coast (near the Western Continent). That south coast has a high tallman population.

Fleki and Lycion are from the Southern Central Continent. Fleki got into ancient magic for the money, so you can assume there's probably class disparity there too; things are noted by Kui to be more "disorganised" than the NCC. Not a bad thing at all - the NCC is definitely too "organised" in my books. But that does potentially also mean there's less, e.g., bureaucracy, central organisation, less of a social safety net. But then again, in the NCC I doubt that whatever "safety net" there is, is available to everyone.

We can't extrapolate much from Fleki & Lycion's personalities, because they clearly aren't in the most stable societal position, and I get the sense that they're the countercultural type - they probably don't represent the type of person typical to the SCC. Also, our NCC characters are all either nobles or used to navigating high society (Cithis, Kabru to an extent) so they aren't exactly a typical "ordinary NCC person" as a basis for comparison either. However, there's less of a "strict set of social rules" type of feel to the SCC characters, fitting with my suggestion that the SCC may not be a society with a strong feudal element.

Geopolitics & Conflict

The fact that, despite their being from the SCC, Fleki and Lycion are in the Canaries, who work directly under the NCC's Queen, implies that the the NCC feel entitled to process and prosecute people who commit ancient magic-related crimes regardless of any notion of "jurisdiction". This is backed up by the way that they were going to take Marcille - but that is something that the governor of the Island had to give permission for, which Laios is able to withdraw. So I assume that the NCC elves apply pressure on various world leaders to extradite criminals involved in ancient magic.

The SCC would cooperate with this, since they're allies, even if they don't have a great relationship (according to the World Guide).

The NCC are also clearly able to take half-foots without trouble, as we see by Chilchuck saying he's known half-foots who got involved with "black magic" (ancient magic) and were disappeared by the elves. But I doubt gnomes or dwarves are giving people up easily - though that probably doesn't go for dwarves like Senshi and Namari, without strong community ties.

Long before the current times, elves fought dwarves & gnomes. There might have been more than one of these conflicts...? While long ago, this war isn't "ancient" (like the ancients who sealed the demon into dungeons, before their world was mostly destroyed by it).

Thistle, Delgal, and the Golden Kingdom were (I believe) caught up in one of these conflicts, which used Melini as a staging ground - thus why Thistle was pushed to seal the entire kingdom in the dungeon.

To do this, Thistle unseals a dungeon created by the "ancient people". These could be the "ancients" who created the dungeons, before the apocalypse. Or they could be another, still extinct, society.

Regardless, at least one of these conflicts seems to have taken place after the golden kingdom was sealed - so, within the last 1000 years.

Though, this could refer to a different, more localised conflict between the Golden Kingdom and their dwarven neighbours.

The order of events is that the Golden Kingdom was sealed (1000 years ago or so) > Dwarves took over > Elves stole the land from the Dwarves ("long ago" by the Island Lord, a tallman's, standards) > Elves gave the land to a local lord, who was either an ancestor of the Island Lord, or the Island Lord himself. The Island Lord is himself a descendant of the lord who poisoned Delgal's father, as is noted in the World Guide. However, it isn't impossible for there to be large gaps of time between these events, which could put the elf / dwarf wars at a more recent date.

The fact we know that the elves stole the land from the dwarves, and then granted it to a political actor who was relevant during the events of the Golden Kingdom flashbacks we see suggests to me that the events were roughly contemporaneous. If they were, that puts at least one of these conflicts at roughly 1000 years ago.

So, the elf/dwarf & gnome conflict is "long ago" by short-lived standards, but would be considered "modern" by the long-lived races, if you ask me. At least, the equivalent of the World Wars for us - recent history, even if we weren't alive.

I'm guessing the "Elf King" from the below panel in fact was a word that's more gender-neutral in Japanese, since the "Western Elves" definitely have a queen.

Language

When Kabru says the "Central region" I expect he means the region where the NCC and SCC is.

The fact that he observes that the lack of any accent means he's from the Central Region is really interesting. It could mean two things;

either they switched to speaking in the language spoken on those continents, which Kabru would naturally know, having grown up there. It's 100 percent possible, but I think this would be noted in the story.

or, the language that gets called "the common tongue", the one that all our principle characters speak for most of the story, originated from the elves in the Central Continent. Or at least it's the same one that the elves use, and their political influence is great enough that their accent gets to be considered not an accent at all. The fact they were "granting" land in this area to tall-man lords suggests a large enough historical influence in the area that this is quite plausible to me.

Mithrun absolutely does have an accent - nobody speaks without an accent. His accent is just politically and socioculturally normalised to the point of being considered the "default/proper" way to speak - like received pronounciation in English.

The common tongue isn't ubiquitous everywhere - not just Kuro, but Kiki and Kaka are also noted to be studying the common tongue. The Tansus were born on the Eastern Continent, so probably gnome communities there speak their own language - Kiki and Kaka grew up primarily surrounded by gnomes after all.

It's also quite likely that Kabru, specifically, because of where he grew up, would consider Mithrun's way of talking to be the default "not an accent" accent. His adoptive mother surely has the same upper-class NCC accent. I expect that other characters might experience it as more "marked".

This isn't a world where everyone speaks the same language everywhere; the common tongue is called that, but there are many different languages. Kabru and Chilchuck are two characters who are adept with many of them - Kabru speaks the language of the kobold, and probably lots more. Chilchuck works as an interpreter as part of his union stuff - I can tell you from experience that that's a hugely valuable skillset in that context, as many of the people who most need union representation are people who don't speak the dominant language, or at least not fluently.

If you got all the way to the end of this post.... thank you for reading, I love you. Check out my other World Map Notes under that tag on my blog; I've made a few so far and there will almost certainly be more. Next I'm thinking the dwarven nations...? But I could be persuaded if someone had a preference.

Also, anyone got any speculation on what, exactly, is the previous time that Heimeya ate a person/monster/chimera that this panel implies:

We really don't have anything to go on whatsoever, but I think it's a fun tidbit.

[mournings-stars]

Alright so let's go with fluff for my fave angels Adam and lute

How would they react with their gf who's a magnet for kids?

Her ass would say that she's not fit to be a mom but kids immediately gravitate towards them and labels her as their mother figure, in mere minutes after they had met her

It'd be so adorable

"I don't know if I'll be a good mom." Then you see her giving a kid, whom she just met, piggy back rides. Like, they instantly trust her?? How????

i totally forgot this was in my drafts guys i swear im coming back LMFAOLO anyway this request is cute asl and i went a lil off topic but trust its still fluff

so first up we got adam

so adam is actually a kid person… once you’ve been around him a while

don’t get me wrong, he calls them “little shits” “gremlins” “hellspawn” whatever he can come up with, but he does want his own — like he was created for this… which when you think about it makes you a little more nervous because he would arguably be a good father in your eyes (idk ab arguably but just roll w me) just based off of this information right? you, on the other hand, weren’t made for this

“do you think i’d be a good mom?” you’d ask one day, totally out of the blue, and adam would probably choke on his own spit. “are you pregnant?” would be his first question, expression not giving away any kind of feeling he would have if you were. when you shake your head, he sighs and that makes you feel worse

but, like, it’s adam — he didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and he definitely thinks you’d be a good mom so after a while, sometime later that day, he’ll bring it up again cause he can tell you were overthinking things

“you know, if you were… yanno,” his eyes went to your stomach, “i’d be really fucking stoked.” and he kinda doesn’t know what you’re upset about, which is completely evident when he mentions how much of a milf you’d be before telling you how good of a mom you’d be, but at least he got there! and he made you laugh in the process

whenever you’re talking to an angel with a kid, adam will point out how the kids are always drawn to you; asking questions, talking with you, and even giving you hugs when you leave

he would not let you go on thinking you’re going to be a bad mom, like if you do ever express that you think you would be a bad mom, he’s not taking you seriously. “why don’t i put a baby in you and we can find out?” is his response, and, “adam!” is yours as he just shrugs

lute on the other hand

maybe you’re already working with kids, like you might work close with the church’s daycare or do some work (not teaching) at a school, so even though you don’t work directly with kids, you still see them often and that really makes you want a child of your own

when you tell lute this, you also tell her your worries about not being a good mom. at first she doesn’t say much, not wanting to invalidate your feelings… but she thinks they’re stupid

instead she talks to the daycare or school and sets you up with one of the programs after your usual shift, making another angel take the day off so that you had to cover for them on short notice

she’d come to bring you a snack in the middle of your shift and just see how good you are with the kids, reading to, playing with, and talking to them while they were just so drawn to you and wanting every bit of your attention

she’d definitely help you out, enjoying the opportunity to play house with you as you showed her what to do. then she’d stay until it was their nap-time. she didn’t bother saying what was obvious, knowing she’d proved your doubts wrong just by the way you smiled and laughed with the children

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

About Malleus new years card, given how heavily Japanese culture it goes into. It might be a hagoromo, a white cloth/scarf that floats in the air around a goddess. Given that Malleus is the strongest mage, it might be a symbolism of that. Even so it's used for goddess, Vil and a few others worn clothing meant for women. It wouldn't be unusual to be used for Malleus.

[Referencing this post!]

These asks are all about the fashion of the New Year’s Attire cards and how they relate to Japanese culture, so I thought to combine them ^^

Since I’m responding to three asks in one post and it takes a while to explain things, I’ve placed everything under the cut :> There’s a lot of discussion of Japanese clothing, culture. and folklore in this, so if you’re interested in those topics then you’re in for a treat!!

To the first ask: Though Twst is fairly gender fluid when it comes to dressing its characters, I'm certain that's not a 羽衣 (hagoromo/"feather garment/cloak"; typically worn by celestial women in Japanese mythos). Hagoromo are thinner, longer, and more scarf-like than what is depicted in Malleus's initial card art. You can tell that he's clearly got a sheet that covers his entire body there. The fabric also doesn't appear to be floating like a hagoromo would.

The first two images depict 被衣 (kazuki/katsugi); the latter two images depict 羽衣 (hagoromo); you can see there is a notable visual distinction between them.

To the second ask: It’s possible that the artists looked at kabuki fashion for inspiration, but they most likely did not base the entirety of the New Year’s Attire outfits on that alone. As Yana states in one March 2023 interview, she and her team try to avoid creating outfits that too closely resemble a single real-world culture or brand. To that end, they seem to pull their inspiration from many different cultures and time periods, which is why you'll see a mixture of traditional and modern Japanese elements in the New Year’s Attire.

歌舞伎 or Kabuki, for those who don't know, is classical form of Japanese theatre which mixes dramatic performances with traditional music and dance. I consulted with a few friends who are familiar with Japanese culture (hereby referred to as A-ko, B-ko, C-ko, and D-ko) about the topic and they had some enlightening information to share. Because I am not familiar with the art form or how to gauge it myself, I will be relaying the information provided by those friends in addition to my own research. A-ko informed me that kabuki used to be co-ed (or at least did feature women; the first kabuki troupe formed was all-women) and modern kabuki is all-men. As for the poses, B-ko remarked that they can be considered common "festival dance poses", not strictly kabuki poses. C-ko added, "[...] There is very little, if anything, kabuki-like about the New Year’s cards apart from possibly SOME of the poses [...] Jack is probably the most kabuki we’re going to get because of the dynamic palm thrust and gaudy composition of his attire." The eye makeup being red and of that design also invokes the image of kabuki makeup without it fully committing to its extravagance!

Overall, the group seemed to agree that the New Year’s Attires lack the over-the-top expressions and elaborate costumes of kabuki. There’s also the more obvious lack of full-face stage makeup, but it’s kind of a given that Twst is wouldn’t go this route, especially since the context of these cards is helping out in a store and not putting on a dramatic performance.

On the topic of Malleus and oni (Japanese yōkai, demon, orc, ogre, or troll), I don't think he's intended to look like one??? Sure, he has the horns, but as B-ko said, "[Malleus] always has those horns." Very little in his actual outfit resembles the costume a kabuki actor playing the part of an oni would wear--unless you count the excessive black, as that's a color typically used for oni, but that black is usually paired with red. As for the hair styling, D-ko explained, "Oni usually don't have hair [...]". I find it interesting that some oni masks I found do seem to have hair, but it's usually very sparse omg balding!Malleus real???? and/or a middle part and not the sideways part that Malleus is sporting. Additionally, while oni do have horns, the shape of them is nothing like Malleus’s.

It's true that fur is rarely seen in historical Japanese clothes, but they don't seem to be that common in kabuki either?? According to C-ko, "fur and pelts [...] were a luxury few could afford. Thus, only those people decorated with furs would be royalty or individuals vying for power.

B-ko suggested that the reason why Jack wears fur in his New Year’s Attire isn’t to emulate Kabuki—which tends to feature fluffy wigs, like the one pictured below—but to emphasize his “wolf”-ness and to keep him warm from the cold. C-ko pointed out, however, that “[…] fur accents (like what Jack has) became the trademark for popular and celebrated figures [...] towards the end of the warring states period; when kabuki came into vogue, many plays were inspired by the lives of such personae as well as the legends surrounding them. This is why much of kabuki is characterized by the term basara—of grandeur and ostentatious eccentricity. The actors themselves would not have had access to furs, so they focused instead upon conveying that same sort of energy through their theatrics and outlandish couture. They still used substitutes, of course.” C-ko also added, “The most memorable kabuki roles feature things like fur—which many associate with kabuki.”

Finally, the group altogether said that, “Vil isn’t [dressed like] a geisha. His outfit bears no resemblance to what geisha wears.” 芸者 or Geisha are highly trained Japanese hostesses who entertain guests with song, dance, and conversation—furthermore, there’s a rigorous training process and a very specific appearance they take on. Makeup aside (if Twst is not doing kabuki makeup, why would they do geisha makeup?), a feminine figure and long, flowing kimono is not enough to get the “the look”. B-ko commented, “[…] Calling Vil [dressing like] a geisha just because he wore a feminine kimono […] Like, damn. Does that mean every woman who wears that style [of a] kimono is a geisha now?” It takes considerable time and dedication to achieve this to earn the title; it’s not meant to be taken lightly!

From D-ko, “Overall Vil’s outfit is kinda westernized.” This is due to the hat, gloves, bows, fishnets, and laced collar. A traditional geisha’s outfit lacks the bells and whistles that Vil’s design boasts. The silhouette also seems to be wrong. Why? “Because technically you try to make your silhouette as not curvy as possible when wearing a kimono,” but Vil’s silhouette appears more hourglass-like. The devil is in the details!!

Lastly, to the third ask: Going to skip over talking about Jack's umbrella pose and the kabuki inspiration, since I already addressed that earlier in this post! I'll briefly add that it's not for sure that Malleus is meant to be a certain thing unless Yana and/or her team come out and say it. B-ko agreed, saying "I don't think you can say Malleus is definitely [Ushiwakamaru], since I literally gave [other examples of what] he's dressed like [...] I can understand 'taking inspirations from', though..."

In the final ask, Anon remarks that Jack and Malleus's looks may be inspired by that of 弁慶 (Benkei) and 牛若丸 (Ushiwakamaru), two characters from Japanese folklore. Ushiwakamaru is the nickname of Minamoto no Yoshitsune, who, according to C-ko, "[...] fought and recruited his loyal vassal Benkei in a fabled confrontation on a bridge." While some elements of Jack and Malleus's New Year's Attires resemble what Ushiwakamaru and Benkei are usually depicted wearing--especially Malleus's veil--not all of it matches up. For example, as B-ko notes, "[...] what Malleus is wearing under the veil isn't what Ushiwakamaru is wearing, but looks [like] more of a kannushi (神主/"divine master (of ceremonies; often Shinto clergy)")." B-ko linked this site and recommended checking it out to make clothing comparisons; the kannushi garb was just an item they picked out for similarities on a cursory glance. This brings me back to a point I mentioned in the second ask: Twst's fashion takes inspiration from many sources and blends them.

"I think it really boils down to [Malleus and Jack] evoking the atmosphere of that famous [Ushiwakamaru and Benkei] print," C-ko continues. They drew comparisons between Malleus, a character twisted from Maleficent (commonly depicted with her raven Diablo), and Usiwakamaru, who is the disciple of a tengu {crow/raven yokai). They also compared Jack, a steadfast and virtuous individual, with Benkei, who is a monk with similar traits. Furthermore, in the famous folklore story, Benkei is depicted as having felled 999 men before facing off against Usiwakamaru, a supernatural force. So, like Jack, Benkei is a powerful combatant up against an even more powerful supernatural force, Usiwakamaru/Malleus.

jxxbisbsjJvsjsb I didn’t think we’d be talking about Japanese fashion, history, and folklore to this extent, but here we are 🤩 I hope that, if you’re reading this, maybe you learned something new and interesting from the post!! I know I certainly did while chatting up my friends.

P.S. Thank you to A-ko, B-ko, C-ko, and D-ko for their knowledge and perspectives! Couldn’t have written this without you.

[hvnlygrl]

hii! for your celebration (congrats!) wb a rafe cameron blurb based off no. 1 party anthem. maybe something where he meets a girl at a party and basically becomes enamored with her?

⌞ NO. 1 PARTY ANTHEM⌝

જ⁀➴ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

જ⁀➴ word count | 0.7k

જ⁀➴ synopsis | rafe sees you at a party and can’t help but be drawn to you

જ⁀➴ song | no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

જ⁀➴ notes | but i love this request and i love ur blog aesthetic so much its so fire — tysm for sending in an ask!!

જ⁀➴ epilogue | alaskan girl masterlist.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

rafe was never the type to be obsessed, but here he was, letting his eyes follow you from spot to spot as you chatted and laughed with old friends. he was surprised at how many people you knew despite never having seen you around the island before.

you eluded confidence in every sense of the word, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to you instantly. there was just something about you that intrigued him, something that made him need to know you.

but rafe couldn’t make himself get up and go over to you, so he just opted to watch from a distance as he sipped on his drink.

you seemed to be totally unaware of the set of eyes that trailed you from group to group, that is, until you made eye contact with them.

you watched the boy’s eyes shoot away for a beat, his cheeks going flush with brief embarrassment. it made you wonder how long he’d been watching you for.

you tapped your friend, discreetly pointing in his direction, “who is that?”

she scanned the room, confused for a moment before realizing who you were talking about.

“oh no, y/n don’t even think about it,” she warned precariously.

“what?” you raised a curious brow at her, “why?”

“that’s rafe cameron,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “obx’s number one residing douchebag and womanizer.”

you laughed in response, “yea, and you have the best judge of character, right?”

with that reply, she knew there was nothing she could do to change your mind. “ugh. fine, just don’t say i didn’t warn you, babe.”

“yea, yea,” you wave her off, “what happened to not judging a book by it's cover?”

she shakes her head at you, watching you as you move to the other side of the room. you find a semi-secluded area on a large sectional that you can get comfy on, allowing your eyes to trail back up to rafe.

he looks back over to where you were originally standing, heart beating in his throat when he realizes you’re no longer there. he’s almost sure that your friend was telling you about how he’s the devil incarnate and probably much worse, and his confidence drops to an all-time low.

and then he sees you, alone on the couch, looking back at him with a sweet, almost angelic smile.

he chugs the rest of his drink, adjusts the backward hat on his head and makes his way over to you. “now or never,” he whispers to himself.

“hi,” he gives you a soft smile when he reaches the couch.

“hi there,” you smile back, “what’s up?”

“nothing much,” he shrugs nervously, “i’m rafe.”

“y/n,” you hum back, extending a hand out to him. he shakes it and then reverts back to standing awkwardly. “wanna sit down? you’re making me nervous, rafe.”

he chuckles at the statement, cheeks flushing red again as he finds a spot next to you. “are you new here?”

“yes and no,” you scrunch your nose up as you try and find the right words. “i grew up here when i was a kid, but my mom just moved back so this summer is kind of a trial run to see if i like it enough that i’m gonna stay for good.”

“and if you hate it?”

“then it’s back to alaska for me,” you take a sip of your drink before glancing at his reaction.

“alaska? that’s far away,” he gapes at you.

“yea, and cold as fuck.” he laughs at your blunt statement. “i’m really hoping i’ll like it here, though.”

rafe can tell by your tone that it’s meant to have a double meaning. he smirks, more sure of himself now, “i think you will.”

“oh yea? how so?”

“cause you’ll have the best tour guide in the obx,” he grins at you, hand raised in triumph.

“how could i hate it?” you grin back, raising your cup in toast, “to loving obx.”

“to loving obx,” rafe can’t help but feel as though he’s only fallen deeper for you in the span of the conversation and part of that scares him. but he also knows that this could be his chance to start over with someone that doesn’t know all the bad shit about him and his family.

patrons at the party watch in awe as the two of you sit for hours, just laughing and telling stories, all of them completely shocked at the lack of moves rafe tries to put on you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hvnlygrl 2025 ©️

[nonsscrapheap]

TFP: Universal Observations

AND THUS WE RETURN! you are not ready for this reaction, i wasn't. kind of, this premise has been on my mind for a while.

i'll be adding in the word count now! 4.1k words!

time for the revelations of the very vague polls! or at least one of them!

Optimus and Megatron Working Together (Wholesome) is... Actor Au.

WARNING! LONG POST!

ACT 1: Show Acting - I -

[ ----- TP : UO ----- ]

[ ENTER KEYWORD TO START UNIVERSAL OBSERVATION ]

Omega Outpost One

"Key word?" Ratchet hears Rafael murmur as he and the humans gathered together by Optimus' side.

The Prime still looked downcast, the look of horror on the mech's faceplate was something Ratchet never wanted to see ever again. He'd seen it before of course, each time was just as terrible as the last but there was just something even worse, knowing why Optimus had looked so horrified in the first place.

It wasn't everyday that you watched another version of yourself perform a horrible act that had taken a friend from you. That Optimus Prime, Evil Optimus Prime, was no Prime that Ratchet would ever have followed and Optimus needed to get it in his helm that despite looking similar to the mech on the screen aside from the obvious differentials, Optimus himself would never enforce Empurata on anybot. Not even the Decepticons. 

Then again, Ratchet could sympathize with Optimus' feelings on the matter. Although his own counterpart hadn't exactly done anything on screen aside from attacking Other Knock Out, the implications of his words and actions alone… It disturbed him to no end. 

The knowledge that in another world, an alternate version of oneself could be so different from you… It's a lot to take in. 

Another thing that was a lot to take in, was the existence and the function of the sphere. 

As far as Ratchet has come to realize and gather from what's obviously been shown, the sphere was nothing more than an observation device. A very powerful one, capable of showing alternate worlds and cataloging them for repeated use. 

If the sphere fell on Decepticon servos, Ratchet feared just what the Decepticons would see and how it would work in their favor. So despite its mysterious appearance, it was a blessing to have it show up in their base, but Ratchet still needed to know just where it came from and how it got into their storage without any of them knowing. 

It couldn't have been the humans, Fowler already had a catalogue of their Cybertronian tech and items since he was their liaison. The children obviously couldn't have been the culprit, seeing as they had no idea what it was…

But they were connected to it now. They were in control of the sphere, not completely though. 

"Okay so, remember how Miko said something about shatter and glass? That's what triggered the whole thing in the first place! So we just um, need to say words and see if it triggers something else?" Rafael exclaimed with shaky confidence, unsure about his own suggestion but it was solid in theory.

"Uh, Monkey? Apocalypse? Music!" Miko shouted, trying Raf's idea. 

.: Cybertron. Iacon? Racing! :. Bumblebee bleeped in offering as well.

"Uh… if that's the case, then it would have already taken in anything that we were saying by now." Jack said with a frown, watching the younger boy give a look of thought. 

"Honestly, I don't know if we should keep messing with it." Arcee admitted, looking at the sphere with obvious distrust and lingering unease. "Sure, the only function we've seen so far is what, looking into alternate worlds where the Decepticons are good while we're…" She couldn't finish, glancing at the still silent Optimus who grimaced at the reminder. "We should probably just- put it back into storage." 

"Aww, c'mon Arcee!" Miko exclaimed, hands on her hips. "Sure, the first world we saw wasn't- wasn't that good but like- this is an opportunity to see alternate worlds! Who doesn't want to see stuff like that?!" 

"I'm actually with Miko a bit here Arcee, this is- it's pretty cool. The world it showed us wasn't that peachy but like. Wasn't it really weird to see the cons acting like the good guys?" Jack laughed a bit awkwardly, and he had a point. It had been really strange to see the Decepticons act like—

[ KEY WORDS ; SHOW ACTING ]

They all glanced over to the screen in shock as it accepted two random words from what Jack had been saying. "Just what is with its intuitive parameters?!" Ratchet growled out, unable to make sense as to how exactly the sphere was parsing through speech to gain the 'key words'- Bumblebee and Miko had been suggesting things off the bat but it was Jack that triggered its function this time?! 

("It seems the Autobots have finally chosen something." Starscream muttered in disdain, eyeing the key words and wondering just what was going to be shown this time. Megatron said nothing, his optics narrowed and frame tense.)

[ The screen flared before catchy music played, the words 'TERRAN-TRON LIVE' plastering itself over the screen and then disappearing. A large femme was sitting on a couch with a human woman sitting beside them on a platform built onto the couch. "Good evening everyone! Welcome back to Terran-Tron Live! Your late night show interviewing celebrity guests and more. I'm Polly." The human exclaimed, wearing a suit and waving at the camera.

The femme smiled with her, waving as well. "And I'm Caster, and we're here tonight with some very special guests!" ]

All optics and eyes blinked at the sudden showing of two people, a Cybertronian femme and a human woman, that they knew nothing about. "What in the…" Bulkhead trailed off, confused as to why they were watching what seemed to be a late night talk show.

"A human and a Cybertronian? On television? Live?" Ratchet muttered, the implications of that was... Pretty positive, actually.

Optimus, though still a bit downtrodden, couldn't help but perk slightly and look at the screen with intrigued optics. 

Miko was practically jumping in place with excitement, "Oh! Since this is a talk show with both Cybertronians and humans then humanity must like, know about you guys now! You're famous heroes!" 

.: I guess? I don't think I'd like to be on tv though. :. Bumblebee said nervously, a bit self-conscious over his voice box. Millions of people, humans and maybe Cybertronians listening to him beeping? Half the audience wouldn't know what he was saying! He huffed when Raf patted his helm in comfort, the little human giving him reassurances that he appreciated.

("What exactly is this?" Megatron deadpanned, unimpressed by the showing so far. 'Terran-Tron Live', a cybertronian and a human working together like this? Reminds him far too much of the Autobots, not to mention the fact they were working with humans of all species…)

[ "Humans and Cybertronians, give it up for- the cast of Transformers: Prime!" Polly exclaimed, gesturing to somewhere and the screen changes to show four bots on a large couch. Two mechs and two femmes, on another platform close to the couch, there were three humans sitting on a smaller couch like Polly. All of them waved at the camera and audience, smiling. ]

Jaws were dropped at the sight of Optimus, Megatron, Arcee and Arachnid sitting on one gigantic, Cybertronian-sized couch while nearby, Jack, Miko and Raf sat on a smaller couch on screen. 

( "WHAT?!" )

Optimus' backstruts straightened at the sight of him and Megatron on screen, sitting close together in such an amicable setting- things were obviously different though. For one, Other Optimus looked more like Orion Pax instead of Optimus Prime. His frame was more civilian-like, but a bit bulkier than the data clerk had been and his colors were red and violet with silver instead of his own colors. Other Optimus was sitting back against the couch with his legs spread slightly, arm hanging on the back of the couch and had an amused smirk on his faceplate. He seemed so young compared to Optimus.

Other Megatron was so much more different, gone were the spikes that were the kibble for the warlord. Instead, standard kibble with a shinier silver plating. Gone were the scars and scuffs that Megatron wore with ease, and his optics weren't red nor were they blue. They were a honey-like gold instead, pairing well with the polite smile on the mech's derma. He too, seemed so much younger than he or even Megatron, his frame less bulky as well- not warforged, that much was obvious but still slightly bigger than Other Optimus. 

Other Arcee looked the most similar, but the sharp edges of her frame and armor were softened and instead of a mostly blue finish, there were sections of magenta and pink that decorated her plating.

Other Arachnid didn't look nearly as menacing as the Aracnhid they knew of, but nor did she look as gentle as the 'Shattered Glass' Arachnid they just saw. Her edges were softer, her extra legs were nowhere to be seen and the sheer fact she was just sitting there besides Arcee? Absolutely mindboggling. 

The children looked quite different as well! Jack's hair was a bit longer, and he was dressed in a more formal suit. Raf's usually untamable locks were brushed down, also in a formal suit, and Miko— they had all gotten so used to the girl's wildness, to Miko's signature pink-coloring on her head that seeing her hair curled and completely black actually made most of them do a double-take. Especially since Other Miko was dressed in a dress-suit combo in soft colors. 

[ "Go on guys, introduce yourselves to the lovely audience!" Caster encouraged, and the camera's changed focus accordingly. 

"Hey there everyone, I'm Orion Nox, I play Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots in Transformers: Prime." Orion said with a salute and a grin aimed at the camera. 

"Hello, I am Dion, I play Lord Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons in Transformers: Prime." Dion greeted with a smiling nod. 

"Hi there, I'm Cycla, I play Arcee, warrior-scout of the Autobots." Cycla winked at the camera with her arms crossed as she leaned back against the couch. 

"I am Venami, I play Arachnid, spider-bot Decepticon defector at your service." Venami said with a slight nod, chuckling when Dion playfully called out 'Traitor!' to her. 

"Hi! I'm Rumi Atsuhashi, I play Miko Nakadai, Bulkhead's human charge." Rumi said, waving excitedly at the camera.

"Antonio Garcias, I play Rafael Esquivel, Bumblebee's human charge!" Antonio chirped , seeming to be just as, if not MORE excited than Rumi. 

"I'm Jackson Darby, I play Jack Darby, Arcee's human charge. Yes that's my real name, no I didn't get it changed at any point of my life. I have always been, Jackson Darby. The only difference between me and Jack Darby is that I prefer to go by Jackson instead of Jack." Jackson said with a crooked smile, exasperated but amused, laughter was heard from his cast members, the hosts and and the audience. 

With each introduction, there was a brief clip from the show that showed them acting in Transformers: Prime as their respective characters. ]

"OUR LIFE IS A TV SHOW?!" Miko screamed loud and clear, eyes bugged out of her head as she saw herself- or well, her actor?? On screen? "OH MY GOD!" 

"I-I need to sit down." Arcee said, feeling more than a bit nauseous- not by the whole 'in another world our life is a tv show' thing though it was part of it, but by the sight of her and Arachnid- doppelganger actors be damned - just… sitting there. On the couch, not trying to maul each other to death. 

Even weirder; Optimus and Megatron were sitting on the same couch, looking much younger and different, very different in Megatron's case. Or, Dion? What the frag even is this world. 

The fact there were clips, clips of moments that had happened that showed besides each one… 

( Arachnid had no words, she simply left. Or tried to, but Soundwave wouldn't let her leave. All the other Decepticons, even Megatron, were trying to process what they were seeing. However, the warlord did give Arachnid a glare, remembering how her counterpart introduced herself. She grimaced, but said nothing. )

[ "Unfortunately we could only invite a few cast members here, some had conflicting schedules or other things to do and we only had a limited amount of room on set. Even with mass displacement, we'd get a crowd here going." Caster explained to the audience and onlookers, she turned to look at the actors. "Thank you once again for joining us here, it's a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have you guys on the show!" 

"Thank you for having us Caster, it's a pleasure to be here." Dion replied with a respectful nod.

"I've always wanted to be on a late night talk show- especially Terran-Tron Live! You guys are the best human-cybertronian night show hosts out there!" Antonio gushed, practically bouncing in place. 

Polly laughed, winking at Antonio, "The very first in fact, well, not really me but my ma. Bless her soul. She established the show almost forty years ago after the Cybertronian and Earth alliance. My ma wanted to host a show with a cybertronian the moment it was possible."

"And here I enter the scene." Caster preened, servos framing her faceplate before she waved her servo. "But enough about that, let's talk about you! And YOUR show- Transformers: Prime!" 

A picture was shown on a floating screen, of Optimus and Megatron posed for battle with several other bots in the background. Transformers: Prime was in blocky text above. "It's you!" 

"It's us." Both Orion and Dion chorused with amusement, glancing at each other. "Look, you can even see Cycla and Venami in the background." Orion called out, pointing to where Arcee and Arachnid were in the picture. 

Cycla laughed and pointed as well, "And if you squint really hard, you can even see the kids hiding behind that boulder in the corner." The picture zooms in to see Raf, Miko and Jack hiding behind a boulder with Jack holding Miko back from leaving the boulder. 

Antonio giggled wildly while Rumi and Jackson grinned. ]

Despite the boggling situation, a few of the team and even the humans couldn't help but snort at the sight of the bit with the humans- it was so like Miko to try and leave the boulder, and of course Jack was holding her back. 

Optimus in the meanwhile, couldn't get his optics off of Megatron and himself on the screen. Or rather, Orion and Dion. They looked so at ease with each other, sitting side-by-side with no care in the world aside from being interviewed. 

Seeing the Other Megatron had been surreal enough, that mech reminded him too much of the old Megatronus that Optimus still secretly craved to see once more. But this? This made his spark ache as it reminded him of the good times Orion Pax and Megatronus had together as close friends. Yes their frames were different, their names and even their mannerisms but the fact they 'played' Optimus and Megatron and looked incredibly liked them…

Not every world has us as enemies, old friend. Optimus thinks to himself in private, feeling incredibly emotional for reasons he cannot, would not, explain. A sense of aching relief yet bitter longing and resignation settled in his frame that he kept to himself. Struggled to keep from showing on his faceplate.

No one but Ratchet would be able to spot it, and luckily for the Prime, his medic was preoccupied with gawking at the screen.

( On a warship miles away, a warlord is assaulted with unwanted memories at the sight of Orion Nox. His thought process similar yet different, tinged with anger and contempt that hid the nostalgia and other emotions that he deemed unimportant and frivolous. )

[ "Question for the bots here- we've got two of the most infamous rivals in the show sitting right here. And both pairs have had histories in working together, tell me, is there an actual rivalry here in real life, like in the show?" Polly asked, peering at the Cybertronians sitting on the gigantic couch.

Orion laughed, "Not really, at least for Dion and I- we've worked together before in other projects and sure we've been casted as rivals as some but honestly we're pretty chill." He glanced over to Cycla and Venami, "Now Cycla and Venami on the other hand—" 

Cycla reached over Dion to smack Orion's knee, only to gasp in betrayal when Dion spoke up with an amused expression. "Oh there's definitely a rivalry going on between them. Not as bad as in the show but, they've been competing against each other for roles in other projects. I distinctly recall Venami being quite peeved when Cycla was chosen instead of her for one project." 

"Dion!" Venami exclaimed with annoyance, glaring at the silver mech who burst out laughing alongside Orion. ]

Was it incredibly petty to feel pleased that another version of herself, even as a bizarre actor in a bizarre world, managed to one-up the alternate version of the Con that killed one of her old partners? Probably, yet it didn't stop Arcee at all from feeling just the tiniest bit smug. She couldn't help it.

Just like how Optimus couldn't help but feel warm at how close Orion Nox was with Dion, and at the fact they've worked together before. Or at the fact, while still rivals, 'Cycla' and 'Venami' weren't fighting each other as Autobot and Decepticon. It seemed like neither faction existed aside from within the show. 

( A spider bot while not really impressed, couldn't help but be annoyed at her counterpart's failure of gaining whatever role it was that the other femme managed to get. A warlord stews in unsettling silence. )

[ "Question for the kids! How's it feel to work alongside your Cybertronian co-actors? Must be pretty exciting huh? Are you as close to them as you are in the show?" Caster asked, leaning forward to address the small beings who beamed at her and the camera. 

"It's been great!" Antonio gushed, "They've been so kind to Jackson, Rumi and I and the other humans on set too! They're really careful in making sure we're okay." 

Rumi nodded in agreement, smiling happily, "I'll admit, I was nervous at first since this is the first time I've um, I've worked with Cybertronians who are really, really big most of the time but it's been fun! I'd like to say we're as close to the bots on set as we are in the show?" She gave the metal giants a shy smile and they all grinned back at her with affirming nods. 

"Not just the 'Autobots' either, the 'Decepticons' are pretty great too." Jackson laughed, "My favorite Con is Pulsebeat, aka Soundwave in the show- they and their cassette Glider, aka Laserbeak, like to pick us up and hoard us sometimes because I think we remind them of minicons and cassettes. It's really funny." 

Dion laughed, "And here I thought I was your favorite Con Jackson!" He said playfully while pressing a servo against his chestplate in faux offense. 

Jackson looked back at him, "You thought wrong! I mean- just look at them!" Jackson gestured to the screen as it suddenly showed Soundwave, or Pulsebeat? Without their visor on, grinning widely as they cradled a laughing Jackson, a giggling Rumi in his servos while Antonio beaming as he hung upside down from a cable claw. Their bird-cassette was perched atop Pulsebeat's helm. Another picture showed Pulsebeat mass displaced, but still big enough to carry all three children on his frame while they all sat on Glider who was in the air. ]

.: I don't think I will ever get used to 'nice' cons. :. Bee beeped, both somewhat awed yet perturbed at the sight of the relaxed and joking 'Megatron' and the pictures of 'Soundwave' playing with the human kids. Not to mention the sight of Soundwave's face- or rather, Pulsebeat? It looked extremely similar to the 'Shattered Glass' faceplate that Soundwave had but at least… at least this time, it was happy and not… The yellow muscle car bot shuddered, shaking his helm and focusing back on the screen.

"You and me both, Bee." Bulkhead muttered in agreement, optics squinting. "And I don't think I'll get used to shy Miko." He added in with some mirth, it was bizarre to see the girl smiling shyly at the bots (two of which were Cons but they kind of weren't because they were actors??) and not being as energetic as his charge.

"I know right?! Still, she must have some Wrecker in her to play me!" Miko exclaimed, looking up at Rumi with determined and curious eyes. 

Raf looked over to Jack, still on Bee's shoulder. "Soundwave? Really?" There wasn't any judgement, just genuine curiosity.

Jack still felt the need to throw his hands into the air, "Don't ask me! Apparently other me likes Soundwave! Pulsebeat? This is just- too weird." Not to mention the casual banter that other Megatron, or uh, Dion? Had with Jackson. Jackson who was him, who still had his name but went by Jackson instead of Jack. 

How come Raf and Miko had other names while Jack was still just, Jackson Darby? Unbelievable.

( An ex-gladiator and now communications officer stayed silent, as always, but there was a relaxed air around him now. The warlord notices, does not comment, just stares at the screen with growing displeasure. )

[ "Question for everyone! Was the season one finale surprising to find out, film, just- anything? I understand that Transformers: Prime was an original scripted show without being based on anything aside from the old Autobot-Decepticon civil war on Cybertron eons ago but fictitiously set on Earth." Polly questioned, leaning in with interest as the bots and humans glanced at each other.

"Oh definitely! The show's original writer, Rung, a great guy, surprised us halfway through the season's filming to reveal to us all dramatically of what the season's ending was and I just- I couldn't believe it." Orion said, actually sitting up straight as his co-actors nodded in agreement. 

Cycla snickered, "Yeah! We're all just sitting there, reading the script, baffled with how our show's first season ends. Which really shouldn't have been THAT much of a surprise I guess? When you start off the season killing off Cliffjumper- Revmaul, Cliff's actor, would NOT stop sending me jokes about his character's death by the way so screw you Rev, stop that - and THEN revive him as a zombie bot—"

"Terrorcon." Venami interrupted, Cycla rolled her optics but continued.

"Terrorcon, and then the Dark Energon kind of persists throughout the season… Naturally I guess, it all leads to the natural conclusion?" ]

"Season finale?" Ratchet murmured, optics hardening as he immediately realized the implications of what was going to happen. If 'Transformers: Prime' was a show about their current life then… "Optimus." He said sharply, gaining the attention of the Prime who seemed to realize the exact same thing. 

"I know, old friend. Autobots, pay attention. We may be learning important information pertaining to our future." Optimus instructed with a hard look on his faceplate, his frame tense as he readied himself as to whatever was going to be revealed. A part of him was slightly interested at the fact that apparently in that world, while the Autobots and Decepticon war had existed, it had obviously ended long ago. Long before Cybertron made contact with Earth, long enough that someone, this Rung person- a Cybertronian perhaps? Had made a fictitious retelling of it, was interesting…

The fact that retelling was apparently all about their lives on Earth was encroaching somewhat dangerous yet hopefully helpful territory. 

His Autobot team tensed, and even the humans watched closely with somewhat anxious eyes. Especially when Cycla mentioned Cliffjumper, Arcee hissed between gritted denta, feeling conflicted at the grief as well as unwanted jealousy and unfairness at the fact that Cliffjumper over there was alive. An actor who's character had died. But for Arcee, Cliffjumper was truly gone… His corpse, desecrated and turned into a monster… 

Her servos curled into fists, clenching tightly.

There was a sense of tension in the air.

( The same could be said for the Decepticons on The Nemesis. The warlord quirking a ridged brow in obvious interest. )

Just what was the natural conclusion?

[ "The natural conclusion of Unicron, The Unmaker, Cybertron's version of Satan- being Earth itself. Or at least the core." Caster finished with a slight laugh, sounding somewhat but only a little bit hysterical. 

"Cybertron's Satan is the Earth's core, yeah." Jackson nodded with his fellow humans, "No one was expecting that." ]

No one was expecting that indeed.

Chaos came to the Cybertronians of both Omega Outpost One and The Nemesis.

[ ----- TP : UO -----]

WAHAHAHAHA i spoil tfp season 1 to early tfp season 1. what a way to go. hehehehe, i wonder how that'll all go- but at any rate! i hope you guys enjoyed!

brief ocs of Caster, femme show host along with her human co-host polly! fun fact; polly is the daughter of Caster's original co-host who started Terran-Tron Live!

the actor's names were somewhat random- orion nox and dion are a nod to another fic of mine, called Twice The Primes where there are two sets of Optimus and Megatron, kind of. The other set of Optimus and Megatron, O-14 and D-16 were recently, officially redesignated as Orion Nox and Dion, so i decided to do the same here for the actor au.

cycla is just, motorcycle, i couldnt think of anything else for arcee. venami, just- venom, spider's venom but anami.

pulsebeat and glider- on the spot alternative names for soundwave that wasnt just... soundblaster and something else- i wanted to give him another name for his actor.

rumi astuhashi and antonio garcias- just random names and i just thought itd be extremely funny if jack was still jack darby but he goes by jackson. it'll get funnier when it's revealed that orion nox has to play orion pax in season 2 XD like human like prime hm?? hahahahaha

and yes, rung is the show's writer ;)

but yeah, this is the Wholesome Optimus and Megatron working together choice of the poll! they get to be co-actors with all the kids :D

what's the Serious version? we'll get there eventually! whenever that's picked out anyway. i don't know how many segments i'm planning to do for the actor au, at least three??? but yeah, this is... this gonna fun

i hope you guys enjoyed!

[PREV][START][NEXT]

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 8

Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: angsty fluff, otherwise none? let me know if i missed something!

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 7 here

Tuesday's Gone masterlist

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Once the doctors gave you the green light, you and Emma were officially discharged. Emma was practically bouncing out of there, her tiny hand clutched around Russell’s like he was her personal superhero. She’d decided in about five seconds after she learned that he was her dad that he was her new favorite person.

Convincing Russell to let the hospital staff check him out had been a whole different saga. It took some serious persuasion, mostly from you and a lot from Emma – her best pout and puppy-dog eyes could probably end a world war if used correctly, so Russell didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t give much away about how the exam went, but the scowl on his face as he emerged from the exam room told you all you needed to know. Whatever they'd said, he wasn’t a fan.

You had a pretty good idea why.

You could still picture his body, covered in scars and marks, like a patchwork quilt made from bad decisions and even worse luck. Each scar told a different story – some small, some big, all of them like little chapters in a book he’d never let anyone read. It was like looking at a piece of modern art, if modern art was made from pain and survival instead of fancy paint strokes and pretentious meanings. There were burns that looked like they came from some kind of fire he’d never mentioned, cuts that hinted at fights he’d never bothered to explain, and old bruises that had long since faded but never really went away. When you thought back on it, you realized it should’ve been obvious he wasn’t who he said he was.

Construction worker, my ass, you thought.

But you were too busy buying the story, too busy being swept up in the charm and the confusion to notice the signs. Now, looking back, it was like one of those plot twists in a movie you didn’t see coming.

But you hadn’t known better. And now? Now, it didn’t really matter either.

Emma, hand firmly clutching Russell’s, skipped ahead of him, her energy almost back to normal. Almost. There were still a few hints of what she'd been through in the way she glanced around, the way her eyes would linger a second too long on a stranger. But it was getting better. She was healing, and so were you. In a weird way, it felt like a fresh start. Maybe this time, it wouldn’t all fall apart.

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You were back in Idaho Falls. 

It had been a couple of weeks since you’d clawed your way out of that nightmare you’d rather forget – and bury six feet deep. But your brain? Yeah, it had other plans. It was stuck on a loop, replaying the worst moments like a twisted director’s cut. Honestly, even Hitchcock would’ve taken a bow and said “Bravo!” The suspense, the drama, the way it all spiraled out of control… honestly, the whole thing could’ve been an Oscar-worthy thriller if it wasn’t your life.

And, okay, maybe you’d gotten a little paranoid about leaving Emma alone. Alright, maybe more than a little. But come on, who could blame you? You knew the danger was over, logically, but paranoia wasn’t exactly known for its rationality. Every time you even thought about giving Emma a little space, that nagging voice would whisper, What if? and boom, you were back in full-on protective mode.

As much as you hated to admit it, though, you weren’t navigating this tightrope of anxiety alone. Russell had been… well, there. A lot. Not living with you, though, and that, of course, confused the hell out of Emma.

“Why? Daddies are supposed to live with their families!” she’d declared, pouting like it was written in the stars, a law of the universe that no one could break.

But reality wasn’t so neat. There were years of unresolved baggage between you two, enough to make even the most optimistic couples’ counselor break out in a cold sweat and quietly back out of the room. Moving in together? That wasn’t just a leap – it was more like an Evel Knievel stunt. High risk, no safety net, and plenty of ways to crash and burn. Not yet, and maybe not ever.

Still, Russell had clearly decided that proximity was his job. He was there nearly every day, and on more than a few nights, too. 

“Just in case” he’d say. You didn’t know, but he loved staying there when the both of you were sound asleep. During those times, he felt an indescribable peace. 

And then there was his latest obsession: fixing everything. It started innocently enough – he noticed a cabinet door hanging loose and gave it a quick tune-up. Then he spotted the wobbly bathroom doorknob. Before long, the guy was like a one-man Home Depot commercial, patching up squeaks and quirks you hadn’t even realized were annoying you.

And at first, you didn’t even notice. But one day, you walked into the kitchen, and something felt... off. Not bad-off, just different. Quieter. 

The cupboards didn’t bang shut anymore, the sticky drawer slid like butter, and that creaky floorboard by the living room? Silent. It was like Russell had decided that if he couldn’t fix all your problems, he’d settle for conquering your house.

And the worst part? It was kind of working.

It wasn’t just Russell who practically set up camp in your life after everything that happened. Your family had decided to make sure you and Emma were okay by showing up unannounced on a daily basis. Whether it was Anna, your mom, or your dad, someone was always stopping by to “check in.” But you knew that was just code for “making sure you hadn’t completely lost your mind.”

You didn’t blame them, though. What had happened wasn’t the type of thing you could just shake off, no matter how much you wished you could.

Colter had stopped by, too, not long after you got out of the hospital. And in his typical Colter way, he’d brought Emma a new Veterinarian Barbie – the exact same one she’d been playing with when she was taken. The one you had to leave behind at the warehouse, the one that now felt like a twisted keepsake of that night. That Barbie had somehow turned into a symbol of everything that went wrong, but Colter had a way of turning it into something better, lighter. He was trying, really trying, to be there for his newly found niece, like he wanted to make up for lost time.

Speaking of that warehouse nightmare, Colter had filled you in on what went down once you and Russell split up. Apparently, when you went up to check the upper floor, Colter stayed behind to look for clues on the ground level. Then he heard a bunch of grunting, some fighting noises, and the moment he rushed upstairs... poof, you two were gone. His next step was to follow the muddy footprints – Ecca boots, of course – all the way to a back exit where the trail just... disappeared.

He quickly reached for his phone, trying to call either of you, without any success. He then – almost desperately, he opened the Locations app and tried to see where Russell’s phone was. 

That’s how he found the building in Springland where all three of you were trapped in. And that’s how he found out that James Rourke was probably behind it. 

Apparently, Rourke had been the big boss over at Horizon’s Idaho branch. He also learnt that he used to be Russell’s superior and after learning about his shady businesses with the help of Reenie, he knew Rourke was behind all of this.Turns out, Rourke was involved in some shady business dealings, which Colter pieced together with a little help from Reenie. So, not only did Colter find out that Rourke was behind everything, but he also had a handy Sheriff’s connection in the town. He might not have been thrilled about it, but at that point? He didn’t have time to be picky. It was his brother and niece at risk.

“I really can’t thank you enough, Colter” you said as you pulled an envelope from your pocket. Before you could add the obligatory it’s not much, Colter held up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t even start with that” he said, nodding toward Emma, who was happily immersed in her new doll set. Russell, much to his apparent dismay, had been assigned the role of the dog for Barbie’s vet checkup.

A small smile tugged at Colter’s lips as he looked back at you, letting out a sigh. “She’s family… and so are you” he said simply. Then after a beat, he added with a wry shake of his head, “Though, I’ll admit, it’s still a little hard to wrap my head around.”

You held the envelope out anyway, giving him your best no-nonsense look. “Colter, seriously. Take it.”

He glanced at it like it was a snake about to bite him. “Nope. Not happening.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Alright, fine. If you’re gonna be stubborn, at least stay for dinner. That’s non-negotiable.”

Colter raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to decide if he wanted to argue with you. “Dinner, huh?”

“Yup” you said, tilting your chin up. “It’s the least we can do. Plus, Emma’s so excited to show you her other barbies. You wouldn’t want to break her heart, would you?”

Emma perked up from the floor, where she was busy trying to get Russell-as-dog to sit still. “It’s so cool! You gotta see it, Uncle Colter!”

Colter sighed, his shoulders relaxing in defeat. “Alright, alright. You win. Dinner it is.”

“Good choice” you said with a grin, slipping the envelope back into your pocket. “And just so you know, I make a mean lasagna.”

Russell, still stuck in his ridiculous dog pose, chimed in from the floor. “She’s right. It’s downright addictive.” He then glanced over at the doll set with a raised brow. “Wait a second. Is that… a dog in the kit? Why am I the dog when there’s a perfectly good toy for the job?”

Emma giggled mischievously and scrambled to block his view, clutching the box like a tiny defense lawyer. “No, there isn’t!” she insisted, her grin giving her away entirely.

“Oh, really?” Russell said, narrowing his eyes like he was about to cross-examine a witness. “Then what’s that little plastic furball right there?” He reached for the set, but Emma squealed, pulling it out of reach and scurrying behind Colter for safety.

“It’s not a dog!” she said, clutching the box like it held national secrets. “It’s… it’s a cat in disguise!”

Russell dropped his hands dramatically. “A cat in disguise. Well, excuse me for not being on the cutting edge of veterinary espionage.”

Colter chuckled lightly, shaking his head at the absurd scene before him. “Kid’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“Tell me about it” Russell muttered, going back to his dog duties with a theatrical groan. Emma just beamed, clearly victorious in her completely made-up argument.

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The cold drink in your hand grounded you in the peace of the moment. It was quiet. The only sound in the room was the beers’ sizzling from their glasses. Across the room, your Tiffany lamp bathed the room in a warm glow, making everything feel a little softer. Dreamier.

Next to you, Russell sat on the couch, staring down at his beer like it might give him answers. He’d gone quiet, which wasn’t exactly new. These late-night moments always seemed to pull him deep into his own thoughts.

Dinner with Colter had gone surprisingly well. Actually, better than well. Great, if you measured it in Shaw-family terms. He’d looked awkward at first, but Emma had done her thing. She had a talent for making people feel like they belonged. She’d taken one look at him and decided to get to know “the guy with Daddy’s face but short hair.” By the end of the night, she’d even wrangled a promise out of him to come back soon. 

Whether he actually would? You wouldn’t bet on it. He didn’t exactly radiate family guy energy.

Not that you could blame him. In these quiet moments, Russell had told you bits and pieces about their family: how their dad raised them, why he and his brother weren’t exactly close, and even that he had a sister. That last part had been news to you, and it still hung in your mind. 

Then again, you didn’t even know Colter existed until about a week ago.

But hey, he didn’t know Emma existed until about a week ago, so who were you to judge? 

The night felt like an old familiar one, like five years ago when things were simpler. But now, everything was heavier. Everything was more. Still, you couldn’t deny that you appreciated the quiet, the feeling of just being here, with Russell beside you. Not a word needed to be said, just… existing.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Still thinking about opening that brewery?” you asked, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

Russell glanced up, surprised, like he hadn’t expected you to notice he was still breathing, let alone thinking. He let out a dry chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do” you said, taking a sip. “You talked about it like it was your big shot. You even had a name ready. What was it again? Pour Decisions?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “God, no. That was your suggestion.”

“It was a great suggestion” you shot back with a playful grin.

“It was a terrible suggestion” he countered, but the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth told you all you needed to know. The other name you’d thrown out, Ale You Need Is Love, had clearly stuck with him a little longer than he’d admit. “And yeah” he continued, taking another long swig of his beer, “I’m still thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” you asked, eyeing your drink. “What’s stopping you now? You’re free from Horizon, probably sitting on a nice stack of cash from all those years with them…”

“Yeah, well… it’s not that simple” he said, taking another swig of beer. “It’s not just about the money. It’s time, connections… I’ve never really built anything that would stick. I’ve always just been movin’, never really settlin’ in.”

You glanced at him, noticing how his gaze was stuck on the fuzzy carpet beneath his feet. His words didn’t feel like they were about the brewery anymore, not entirely. “Maybe… it’s not too late to build those connections.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for a split second, you saw the conflict. He was debating whether to take this conversation in a whole new direction, one that would definitely touch on you and him – your relationship, or more like the mess of it. But after a moment, he let out a long breath, as if resigning himself to the truth. 

“I’m not sure the one I want to connect with is still there to hear me out.”

“Sometimes all you gotta do is try” you said, your voice was soft but honest.

Russell didn’t speak right away. His eyes flickered from his beer to the floor, like he was fighting with himself, deciding whether it was worth saying what he really needed to say. 

Finally, he let out a long, shaky breath and set his glass down on the coffee table. It was time to rip the band-aid off. 

“I don’t know–” His voice was quieter now, almost shaky. “I don’t know how to say any of this… Hell, if words can even make up for any of it.”

He stopped, eyes closing as he rubbed his hand across his face like he was trying to scrub away the years of regret. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with the weight of all the things he’d been carrying. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for leading you and Emma into all that… all that danger. For not telling you what was really going on. I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark for so long. I’m so sorry for all the times I wasn’t there. When you needed me. When Emma was born. God, I should’ve been there.”

His voice cracked then, and you could see the fight in him, like he was trying to hold it all together. He ran a hand through his hair, the guilt still weighing him down. “I’m so sorry for hurting you… I never, ever meant to do that. I... I just don’t know how to fix it, or where to start.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the years of building walls, of running away from the things that mattered most. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like he was really letting those walls down.

You sat there, the silence thick with his words, heavy as hell. Regret, apologies, lost time –it all hung in the air. You didn’t rush to fill it, though. You needed a minute to sort through what to say next.

Russell’s eyes were fixed on his hands, the muscles in his jaw clenched tight like he was bracing for a blow, waiting for you to throw it all back in his face.

But you didn’t. You knew he was battling himself just as much as he was battling you. And somehow, that made it harder. But also… maybe easier?

Finally, you spoke, your voice steady but quieter than you intended. “You can’t fix everything in one night, Russell.” You reached for your drink, taking a long sip, trying to steady your pulse, trying to steady everything. “Hell, you probably can’t fix everything, period. But that doesn’t mean you don’t try. And you tried. Hell, you’re still trying, from what I can see. You’re glued to this couch. This house. Didn’t even ask you to stay with us… yet, here you are. Because you care. Because you see that I’m a nervous wreck. Because you see Emma adores you and wants you around…”

You stopped yourself then. The words you didn’t want to admit to yourself started clawing their way out. I want you around too. The thought stuck in your throat, but you kept going. “From what I see, you’re not just trying – you’re learning. You’re making things right. And… I’m not saying I’m not still pissed at you, because God, I am. But... now, I see how it wasn’t just your fault. Not entirely. How everything turned out... that’s on me, too.”

You exhaled slowly, finally meeting his eyes, seeing the rawness in them that mirrored your own. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Emma… I’m sorry I didn’t even hear you out that night… I’m so sorry, too, Russ.”

His hands rubbed over his face, and when he looked at you again, you saw tears threatening to fall – tears he’d never let himself shed before. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was just natural you reacted that way” he said. “You don’t have to forgive me, Y/N. I don’t even know if I deserve it. But… if there’s any part of you that thinks we can make this right, even a little…” He let out a shaky breath. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I swear.”

You set your drink down, the glass suddenly feeling like it weighed a ton. Without overthinking it, you reached out and rested your hand on his. His skin was warm, a little rough, and he froze the second you touched him, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to move. His eyes darted to the place where your skin met his.

You didn’t bother with words… sometimes they just got in the way. Instead, you leaned in, just enough to leave the door wide open. He caught on quick, letting out a slow, shaky breath before he closed the distance, like he’d been waiting for permission all along.

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t rushed. His hand found the back of your neck, steady and warm, like he was afraid to push too hard, but couldn’t let go either. His lips on yours felt like a quiet promise, a way of telling you he wanted to make things right – even if he didn’t have all the words for it.

For a moment, it felt like all the years of hurt, anger, and regret hit the pause button. The kiss didn’t fix everything (hell, it didn’t fix a goddamn thing) but it cracked open the part of you that remembered: you still cared. And judging by the way he kissed you, so did he. 

You also realized something you didn’t want to before: you not only cared. You still loved him, deeply. Even after everything, you still longed for his touch, his presence.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was uneven, like he’d just run a marathon. “I’m sorry, Y/N” he said, his voice full of that raw honesty you didn’t hear from him often. “But I’m here to stay, if you let me.”

You let out a small, shaky laugh. “It’s gonna take more than one good kiss to fix all this, Russ…”

“Good thing I’ve got time” he said, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “And a lot more where that came from.” and with that he dwelled back into your lips.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, he closed the gap again, his lips finding yours like he was making a promise. This kiss wasn’t hesitant – it was steady. Like he was saying, Buckle up, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.

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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 9):

Before you knew it, you were in the bedroom, your blazer tossed somewhere on the floor along with his shirt. The rest of your clothes followed in a blur of fumbling hands and breathless laughter, the weight of the past two months – and the years before that – melting away with every touch.

When he finally had you beneath him, his gaze softened, the intensity giving way to something deeper. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your hands cupping his face. “I’m sure.”

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And… we’re going straight into the smut with the next one. (Alright, not exactly, but we’ll get there soon!)

Read Chapter 9 here

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[sunderwight]

Not to theorize on Arcane with only three episodes left to go or anything, but I do think that there's a reason why the scenes we get of Viktor where he's actually acting like his old self, with Sky also acting reasonably human, are in some kind of theater of the mind/magical space/etc, rather than just Viktor in-person talking to Hallucination Sky in his shimmer dome or something.

Like, think about it. The first few scenes we have of Viktor post-cocoon, he sees Sky as a hallucination in physical reality, and it's disjointed and an obvious sign that something has gone Wrong. It's creepy, and weird. He's got one foot in physical reality and one somewhere else (and it's styled very differently from Jinx's hallucinations, too, which handily indicates that this is not the same sort of thing).

But then, after Jayce returns and we see that Viktor has established his cult, his personality seems to be entirely contained within this otherworldly space. He can perceive reality, but it's no longer overlapping. He has become somewhat quarantined from himself, with Sky there as well, acting way more like "herself" than she did as a hallucination before but also essentially chaperoning Viktor's consciousness. Like a golden retriever put in with a zoo cheetah to keep it calm.

What's interesting is that, internal Viktor is pretty much the usual Viktor he's been since S1, more or less. Like, that's definitely Viktor, who worries about Jayce and focuses on complex problems and wants to help people. But in-person Viktor is weirder. He's not a completely different guy by any means, but he doesn't emote the way that the internal Viktor does, and he says more weird shit in weird tones. Based on the decisions he ultimately makes, I think the internal Viktor is still calling the shots -- but I also think that he's increasingly on his way out.

He's been disconnected from his own physical reality by several degrees, observing it more than interacting with it. And though he sees that there's another influence on Jayce, there are heavy hints (such as Sky appearing right when he says that) that he's in the same boat. But because the process is happening gradually, and is happening within him, he can't recognize it. Every time he tries to, he is presented with a new distraction, or discussion, or there is a reassuring concession that seems to validate that he's still in control. Plus it's probably just difficult to perceive because it does seem to be basing a lot of its outlook on things off of his own. How do you discern the "wrongness" in something when it's the same flavor of wrong that you yourself tend to be?

It's difficult from the outside to definitively say whether this is just Viktor undergoing some funky character development, or if Viktor's another victim of something else. Maybe Viktor's just sequestering his own humanity a bit? Maybe it's all just intended to depict how he navigates through magical energy?

But I think another big indication that it's not just Viktor, is Salo. When Jayce comes back and asks if Salo's still in there after Viktor talks through him, Salo just calmly reasserts himself, and acts as if the idea that he's being forcefully subjugated is absurd. He's not being attacked or imprisoned, he's just engaged in a willing partnership with a benevolent power. If we didn't know what he was like before, or if the old Salo had been a very calm and altruistic individual to being with, it might even be convincing. But the disconnect is way more obvious here because the character we met in past episodes is way further removed from the serene cultist we see Jayce smash with his big hammer. We know that even a grateful Salo is not the kind of person who is going to put on a beige tunic, forgo his many vices and fancy parties, and join a commune just to thank his benefactor. No matter how happy he was to have his legs back, it would only be because it got him his life back -- he wouldn't want to regain his mobility just to up and abandon that life.

Outwardly it would seem that the thing that has subverted Salo's will is Viktor. But if Viktor is also being gradually quarantined, if the same thing is happening to him, then that further implies that another will is at play. One that is disguising itself as Viktor, or if you will as an evolution of Viktor.

Okay and now to actually theorized I guess -- I think that this might be where Singed's assertions about Warwick/Vander being a necessary component of Viktor's evolution will come into play. Because Viktor himself is not going to sacrifice a man to achieve that, but whatever else is part of Viktor does want to evolve. And then it just so happens that Jayce comes out of nowhere, ostensibly being controlled or influenced by something else, and shoots Viktor dead. At which point it seems like the human part of Viktor goes out, and the Machine Evolution guy fully supplants him.

Yeah, I kind of think that Jayce did do a bad thing, but that the twist will be that when he touched the arcane, "Viktor" showed him a vision or gave him some kind of time travel-y experience that convinced him he had to go back and destroy him, so that Jayce would unwittingly kill the only thing holding it back before Viktor finished helping Vander, probably ran out of juice and died in the process, and quietly took this thing out with him. It would, unfortunately, be very on-brand for Jayce to take a decisive and violent action to try and prevent catastrophe, only to unintentionally make it worse. This show on the whole has stuck to the idea that shooting your big flashy magic weapon at a thing is a great way to make a complicated problem much much worse.

I'm not sure they'd break the pattern for this one.

[fancyfade]

2009 era Damian reading

As I've been doing my 2009 era Damian reading, I'm trying to condense the good stuff and bad stuff, and things I believe are relevant for his character. These are in addition to what I assume is obvious (Batman and Robin 2009, the comic where he has a starring role).

Battle for the Cowl: this has how Damian becomes Robin. It's not necessarily good. Daniels really does not understand Damian, especially this early in his writing, but it does have some important context for things going down b/c Damian helps Squire save Tim's life, and we can see Dick viewing training Damian as something he is responsible for.

Secret Origins (2014) #4: This is a much more in character Damian becoming Robin, though fit for a condensed new 52 timeline that leaves some stuff out (like Damian's rocky intro with Bruce).

Batman #688 (Long Shadows part 1): Winick seems one of the early writers who does a Damian as he lines up with later characterization (views himself more as a professional assassin), so I think this one's good.

Batman: streets of Gotham #1-6: damian makes some minor appearances here.

Batgirl #5-7: Always take Damian's guest-starring stuff with a grain of salt, as often times writers just go with "how would an obnoxious 10 year old boy act here" without understanding he's a specific kind of obnoxious 10 year old boy... that said I do like some of his interactions with Steph, and I think it's incredibly important that we see Damian defends his competence based on his training, not on his blood.

Like he'll sometimes justify why he belongs based on his blood (which like... no one acts like they want him around), but he isn't going around saying "I'm better than you b/c I'm batman's son". he was trained intensely since birth (and that's why he should say he's better than you :P)

Batman #692-697: not a ton of Damian in this, and it is Daniel's writing, but he's a little better than he was in Battle for the Cowl. We see Dick training Damian some.

Batman: Streets of Gotham #7, #10-#11: love this plotline for him. Good show of competence and characterization.

Blackest night: batman: More focused on Tim and Dick, and Tomasi sucks at writing Babs, but at there is some Damian content that I remember enjoying.

Red Robin #11-15: as long as you read this one with your brain turned on, it's good for explaining some Tim and Damian stuff. Sadly some fans are like "woooo arrogant 10 year old gets beat up". Nicieza makes some missteps (frames Tim's thinking around Damian as coldly logical, when it is anything but and he is reacting from a place of emotion), but one can ignore those.

Batman #703: shows Damian's character pretty well in a default Batman and Robin adventure, and his relationship (or lackthereof) with Bruce and his dynamic with Dick and Alfred

Teen Titans #88-92 (including Red Robin #20 in a crossover plot): surprised by how well I liked this one. I think it portrays Damian pretty fairly, and we can see that he is trying hard, but hasn't been given a lot of support up until now (or even now, Dick kind of just drops him off with a bunch of older kids who all also have issues and are predisposed to disliking him XD). His dynamic with rose is fun and I think it is notable how quickly he does acquiesce to following Cassie's orders when she's like (at first) the only Teen Titan who is OK with him being there and assures him its not personal when she makes a comment he doesn't like.

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batman and Robin: Has some nice Dick and Damian banter, showcases how they've worked together well

Batgirl #17: more damian and steph interactions.

I will probably add more (either editing this post or in a reblog) as I keep reading.

[swordswoman97]

So we got Hollyberry's awakened form and, I'm gonna be honest here, I'm not impressed.

Now plenty of people have expressed frustration with Hollyberry suddenly being made skinnier so I'm not gonna continue to beat a dead horse. They did. It sucks. I hate it. Moving on.

My main problem however, even more than her being skinnier is that she just doesn't look like Hollyberry cookie anymore. They took pretty much everything from her original design and thrown it out the window, something they did not do for any of the other awakened ancients. Further ramblings below the cut because this is gonna get long. Also brief reference to leaks though nothing actually crazy.

To try and show what I mean, I'm gonna start by comparing our first awakened Ancient Dark Cacao to his base form

Now Dark Cacao is probably the ancient who changed the most in his awakened form from his base form besides Hollyberry, but he still retains the most recognizable parts of his design, the giant pauldrons, and the cape. And even the parts that have changed a lot still provide a lot of the same shapes as what is used in Dark Cacao's original design. This is very obviously Dark Cacao cookie.

Now looking at Hollyberry, she's missing pretty much all of the main components from her original design. Her shield has lost its heart shape, she's dropped the dress for more form fitting armor, the green leaf decorations have been severely cut down to the point I genuinely thought they were straight up removed. The only reason I know they aren't is because they show up on the leaked statue. The heart motif remains but its so much more subtle that I completely missed it until I watched the video for my fourth time. Even the color scheme is very different, she's still got her primary shade of pink but all the other shades of pink and the green accents have been dropped in favor of gold. All this combined makes a design that, while nice in theory, just doesn't look like Hollyberry. The only obvious sign that is supposed to be her is her soul jam. She also looks paler, though it might just be lighting since her hair also looks oddly washed out.

Now to be clear, the design isn't a bad concept. I definitely think it could work, it just needs some tweaks. Bring back more of the green from the original, maybe give the shield its original heart shape back, and provide something to at least give the shape of her old dress. Just something to more obviously tie it to Hollyberry's original design.

[pillowbugs]

so uh. that poto au i did just over a week ago.

was playing around with some ships to figure out who would fit the roles of the other characters, and landed on airplaneshipping for christine and raoul. preferably ignore all the plot that would have to happen to lead to this point. (the scene where the phantom shoots fireballs, except in the pokémon universe it's a full on battle against the phantom and his chandelure. for an added bonus, look up the name of the 'song' sung during this part of the musical.)

unmasked ver. (additional design notes under cut)

elesa:

christine's dress in this scene is light blue, which is a colour that is indeed present in elesa's design (her bw2 outfit moreso). elesa not wearing any yellow felt wrong though, which is why the layers underneath are yellow-tinted.

went with her bw1 hair colour because christine was blonde in the original book.

her cloak is mostly based off her bw2 jacket in shape; it's black with a red clasp, which makes it not only similar to the cloak donned by christine in the musical but also retains the same idea of the cloak being a visual representation of the phantom's (who wears mostly black) hold over them. (+ the other colour ingo is most associated with is red.)

however, because of the lighting, said cloak appears yellow on the side closer to skyla - more similar to her canon design, and being close to skyla in a way rids her of the darkness.

she gets to change her hairstyle as a treat.

skyla:

it wasn't common for women to wear waistcoats at the time (1900s), but sapphics in history quite famously fucked with a lot of gender norms.

actually both of these lovebirds are blue now. sets up a colour contrast between the lighter, friendlier blues of the couple and the darkness and reds of the phantom. (blue = friend and red = foe like it's fire emblem)

the way swanna is placed is intentional, to set up a more angelic imagery mirroring the phantom's darker version (more on that in a bit).

both women wear matching white roses in their hair. something something flower symbolism. but skyla does also have feathers in her hair, for obvious reasons.

swoobat because hearts :D

ingo:

was debating on whether to make him actually more deformed in this au, but didn't really feel in the mood to sit down and design it in detail for this piece.

there isn't much i can say about his outfit design given it's literally just mashing his usual uniform together with his butler alt from masters. though upon actually looking up the phantom's outfit, the end result is actually surprisingly close. not surprising given both wear victorian suits and primarily wear black.

my original concept for the au was that he still works with the subway, he just does it from the shadows instead of being a public figure - hence he still wears a train conductor's hat. though since the battle subway isn't a thing (or at least not in the form we know it) he doesn't have its logo.

his cloak is intentionally flared up in this scene, for a few reasons: 1) it looks cool, 2) it resembles gliscor (albeit it isn't present here) and 3) mirrors skyla with a darker angelic imagery - the original musical had the whole "angel of music / death" thing.

i actually went through quite a few variations of his mask before settling on this one, and even then i'm not entirely satisfied with it.

version 1: exactly the same as the one used in most advertising for the musical - decently terrifying, but considering ingo's main 'issue' is his mouth, which this (and the one actually used within the musical) doesn't cover, this would be completely useless aside from probably hiding his identity and especially his resemblance to emmet.

version 2: leaned more into the angle of trying to alter his expression, particularly to be smiling instead - to be more similar to his brother. also suitably unsettling, but this specific style wouldn't work if you looked at him from any angle besides this one though. also, from this angle, because his actual mouth is obscured, i was worried he would actually be mistaken for emmet instead (given generally fandom tends to make emmet the unhinged one - let ingo have some fun too, guys).

version 3, the one i went with: has patterns at the cheeks simulating the edges of a smile (and also has the black-on-white contrast); his actual mouth is hidden but visible through the cloth.

why is there a litwick on the gravestone? good question!

in all honesty, this was part me drawing blorbos into an au and part me conceptualising what the pokémon universe version of POTO would look like.