#like it won't be the end of the world or anything if it doesn't actually happen

[witherby]

chef what are like the small things you think like consey would for the other? or like things they notice about each other that shows how well they know each other?

-🕯

I think the first question is what they'd do for each other? If I'm wrong correct me!

Things Conner does for Mouse:

Foot massages! Mouse is on their feet running a café all day, every day, and even the best orthopedic footwear money can buy won't completely eliminate pain and sore calves.

Partner in Crime! Mouse is tryna prank a family member? He's gathering the necessary materials and performing the distractions. Mouse is about to get in trouble for something they did? Conner did it actually. No he wasn't there. Yes he still did it. Mouse has never done anything wrong ever in their life.

Plus one! If everyone else is too busy to go somewhere or they're uninterested in doing something, Conner will step up. He's already cancelling his prior plans. He'll be there in five.

Things Mouse does for Conner:

Sugar Spouse! Don't think about the fact that Lex Luthor is wealthy in his own right and would obviously pay to clothe and feed Conner. Lex is doing the bare minimum, okay? He deserves to be spoiled and Mouse has cash to burn.

Non-judgement! Conner was born at the age most humans are dealing with the tail-end of puberty. He doesn't know what he doesn't know, and that means he has to learn that money is exchanged for goods and services. That means Lex gave him encyclopedic knowledge about the Justice League but forgot to teach him how to hold a pencil. That means his shoes are slip-ons because he can't tie laces, and he blurts out sensitive information not knowing that it's inappropriate, and cries a little too hard when he's sad or grins a little too wide when he's happy. Mouse takes these social faux pas in stride and corrects them without batting an eye.

Decision making! Superboy is a hero who faces world-ending dangers on a regular basis and often has to act on the fly to solve a problem. That can overwhelm even the most seasoned veterans, so when he gets to come home and take the cape off, Mouse takes charge for a while. They tell him what they're having for dinner or what activity they're doing or even picking out his clothes for the day, so that he can rest his brain and just follow orders for a while.

[millyphobic]

꩜ .ᐟ GREATEST GIRL IN HIS EYES ★ FT. OLDER! LEON KENNEDY

── .✦ Leon loves you. Even if you take forever doing your makeup and make him feel old

wc :: 1.9k

cw :: fem!reader, age gap (twenty-one/mid to late thirties), tooth rotting fluff, gets really suggestive at times but no actual smut, a little cringey oops, horribly explained makeup routine (cut me some slack I don't do makeup often 💔), mentions of the moves the substance and once upon a time in hollywood

note :: I NEED Leon to be my controversially old boyfriend you don't understand but anyways I wrote this in a blur so horribly proofread oops 🥀

"And she's such a fugly cunt, like who do you fucking think you are to call my friend fat? Like, have you seen your shitty boyfriend? Have you seen yourself?"

That actually got a laugh out of Leon. He watches in awe as you chatter away about college gossip, seated on the toilet lid with his head in his hands as you stand in front of the mirror. There's a ton of makeup all over the sink counter, from little bottles of foundations to eyeshadow palettes and brushes of all sizes. You're currently rubbing what you call a toner into your skin, prepping your face for a "full beat" as you like to call it.

Holy shit, you make him feel old.

A lot makes him feel old, actually, but you especially. Right off the bat from the first date you were still a fresh-faced young lady just starting to dip your toes into the adult world. Looks like you wanted him to be the one to guide you, the two of you inseparable from the start. Never mind you barely have anything in common, Leon is more than happy to just tag along for the ride.

From watching you run off the lectures to seeing you drink a disturbing concoction of Red bull and black coffee during finals. Buying your first beer and holding it up to your lips as you took a sip. Holding your hair out of your face as you puke it all up.

You buy overpriced coffee with a thousand things in it because it makes it "better". There's never a day where your lips aren't adored with shimmery gloss and leave kiss marks all over his face and cups. You chug green tea like it's water and make him do at-home Pilates with you. Force him to put on sunscreen, take vitamins and supplements, and go on late night trips for a sweet treat. Put his hair up as you wash his face and tie bows around his bicep and record your giggles as he makes the ribbons break as he flexes his arm.

You make him feel ancient. And a pervert. But you're the greatest girl in his eyes so it's a small price to pay when people think he's your dad in public. But he's just Your Boyfriend and you're just His Girlfriend getting all dolled up for a date. And he loves you all the same whether you're in casual jeans and his shirts or nothing at all. Even now he thinks you're the most precious darling to walk the earth with your tiny skirt that shows half your ass with frilly stockings and a skimpy top. It doesn't matter that you're wearing more clothes on your feet than your chest, he can fight for a reason.

"By the way," you add, pumping foundation on your face and stippling it in with a beauty blender. Not a weird ass egg thing, as you so graciously corrected him in the past. "My friends wanted to know if you wanted to come over for a night out next week. Everyone's gonna bring their boyfriend so you won't be the only guy there."

"Baby, I won't be the only guy there but I'll be the only grown ass man." Have dinner with your gaggle of friends? No thanks, he'd rather not watch a bunch of kids get shit-faced. He already has to deal with you. "I don't think so but tell them thanks for the invite."

And there you go, pouting as you paint concealer under your eyes. A little too bright to be your shade but he trusts you with makeup then he trusts himself with a car.

Scratch that. Can't drive for shit. Can't set the bar that low for you.

"Aww, why not?" Toward the end, you let out a cough, and a whole lot of powder made you wheeze as you baked your face. Leon almost laughs, but the last time he did, he ended up getting whacked over the head, so he bites his tongue.

"Leon, it'll be fun. We're actually going to dinner and not a bar. I think. Whatever, I want the others to actually see you in person. I'm convinced they think I'm lying about you and you're some random dilf I got off Pinterest."

"I can't tell if I should be flattered or not."

"Well, if I was going to lie about having a hot older boyfriend, I would have picked your photo off Pinterest. So, yes, be flattered and come to dinner."

Leon sighs as you blend out your concealer and spray something on your face. Hopefully, it's not water. Definitely not water; he should use his head more often. "Sweetheart, I'm just too old to be around you kiddos," he counters. He's observing as you draw something on your face, contour as you once told him. Gave him a whole makeup lesson but it didn't really stick with him since he was balls deep in your cunt and had you babbling with lipstick smeared all over your face and mascara down your cheeks. How the conversation even got there, he had no idea, but it still makes him laugh when you're not around.

"Bullshit," you huff, dusting on the nicest shade of pink blush perfect for your skin tone. Really does make you look like the cutest dolly in the world. "I don't give a fuck what others think and you shouldn't either."

Should've recorded you and put this on Facebook.

"While I appreciate the Ted Talk, things aren't as easy as you say. Besides, you deserve to have a little fun. Be single for the night and all that stuff."

And you're frowning again. You look like a grouper. A cute grouper, though.

"...Don't want to be single for a night, but whatever. Anyways-" Another spritz of that mysterious stuff on your face, are you trying to melt your makeup off? You fan your face with your hands, and all it does is get him to chuckle at how silly you look.

Before he knows it, he's grabbing your wrist and tugging you forward until your body's nicely tucked between his legs. "Need my help?" And it's moments like these that make his heart ache, your little nod and smile so infectious it's got him grinning like a fool too.

"Hold still, cutie." Leaning forward, Leon gently blows on your face to get you dry again. "What're you even spraying on your face?"

"Setting spray. Makes my makeup last longer. Duh."

"Alright, alright. Don't sass me; you know I'm old."

"No, you're not."

"...I could be your dad. Or your really young grandpa."

"No one's grandpa is in their forties. Or I hope not. Anyways, I'm serious. I love you and don't care that you think you're ancient. I wouldn't care even if you're ancient. As long as you can still get it up."

How heartfelt.

"Just go finish your makeup." Leon twirls your around from the waist and sends you back to finish your makeup with another firm pat to your ass. It's so cute to him, all for him to touch and squeeze and bite into. Which he can only do on special occasions since he always goes overboard with the biting. "You should do blue eyeshadow again. It was really pretty last time."

You scoff, but you're already reaching for your most beloved palette with all the blues in the world. Half of the little tins of pigment are near gone, but there’s still enough of that baby blue he loves, marveling as you take a smaller brush to dust the color on your lids.

“Why do you open your mouth to put that stuff on? Same thing with mascara; it’s got nothing to do with your eyes.”

“Dunno,” you mumble back, waving a thin tube of mascara in front of his face. “Want some?”

“No thanks. Takes forever to scrub off. I should know; I almost always do it for you after date nights.”

"Yeah, because you fuck my face like a maniac and leave me feeling like a pool noodle." You laugh, cheeky thing, and do it on yourself, once again opening your mouth as you coat your lashes. God, he needs to take a photo of you doing this one day. Post it on Facebook along with your motivational speeches.

"Where're we going tonight, anyways? Our usual restaurant or something else?" You're finishing up now, patting on shiny stuff on the tip of your nose and reaching for more types of powder. Shit, you look good. Real fucking good in a way that makes him grateful for all this fancy makeup. Really does make your beauty shine more than it already does.

"I actually got tickets to watch The Substance-"

"OH MY GOD, I LOVE THE SUBSTANCE!"

Leon can tell with the way you practically jump for joy and the lip liner in your hand goes flying in the air, coming back down and bouncing off his head. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he was stuck in the domestic scene of a tacky yet classic rom-com.

"Got excited, my bad." He just shakes his head, more amused than anything else, as he hands you back the pencil.

"No worries. You look so cute," he hums out, standing up from his spot and making his way behind you. His hands find themselves home on your hips, giving them a little squeeze as he rests his chin on the top of your head. You look cute as you glide the lip liner with such serious focus, brows all furrowed. Once you're satisfied with your handiwork, you finally finish your makeup off with a coat of shiny lipgloss.

"Shit, you look gorgeous," he muses, staring at your reflection in the mirror. A kiss is pressed to the top of your head. One, two, trailing down your neck as your breath hitches and his hands wander. From your waist to your hip to the plushness of your thighs, slipping under your skirt and just barely running a finger over the band of your panties.

"Leon..."

His tugs at the elastic waistband, letting it snap against your skin. Mind's all fuzzy, loopy on a love only you could bring out in him.

"Leon. If we fuck now, we're never making it to the theaters. Off."

Now it's his turn to pout like a kicked puppy, retreating his hands out from under your skirt and back to your hips. And now it's your turn to laugh at him, giggles spilling from your lips as you lean back and nuzzle against his body. "Sorry not sorry for being a cockblock, I really do wanna see The Substance."

You and your love for over-the-top horror films.

"Fair enough, fair enough." Eventually he peels himself off of you with one final kiss to the cheek, feather-light so he doesn't ruin your makeup.

"I can't wait to see Demi Moore. Ooh, and Margaret Qualley! She is literally so pretty, you have no idea." You turn around to finally face him, biting your lips so over-the-top this has to be a joke. A joke about what, he doesn't know, but he makes him chuckle and shake his head all the same.

"Leon, Leon, Leon." You take a step forward, and another until you're stepping on his feet. Arms around his neck as you lean in close, your breath fanning at his face. "Want me to suck your cock while driving?"

...Well damn.

"You're being for real or just teasing me?"

"Now I know you've never watched Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. But I might be for real if you buy me the biggest popcorn tub at the theaters."

Say less.

He's scooping you up without another word, tossing you over his shoulder and crowding his way out of the bathroom faster than you run towards Ulta Beauty when at the mall. Your shrieks and laughs bounce off the walls as he carries you downstairs to the front door, determined to get on the road as soon as he can. 

[max1461]

Ok, here's another one. This is also about Japan, but to me these two anecdotes exemplify the way Western media often talks about non-Western cultures generally. The new Shōgun TV show has just come out, and so there's a fair amount of discussion online recently about early Japanese contact with the Portuguese, and in particular how "the Portuguese brought guns to Japan". And this is 100% true, the Portuguese did introduce firearms to Japan. Simpler gunpowder weapons like hand cannons had been introduced from China in the 13th or 14th century, but true firearms (that is: hand-held, projectile-firing, gunpowder weapons with a finger-pull trigger mechanism) were introduce to Japan by the Portuguese in 1543.

But here is what usually gets left out: Japan was an outlier in East Asia for not already possessing and widely using true firearms. I won't get into the debate on where exactly the first true firearms were developed, but early use of them was made in both Eastern Europe and the Ottoman empire. By they end of the 15th century they were being used prominently by militaries in both the Christian and Islamic worlds. This is where you get the famous "gunpowder empires"—the Ottomans, Safavids, and Mughals—who built their success on the back of gunpowder weaponry, including firearms. From the Islamic world, firearms spread through trade to East and South East Asia. During the 16th century they were being produced at least in China, Vietnam, and Maritime South East Asia. There's a huge variety of local designs and innovations from this early period of firearms history. When the Portuguese attacked Malacca in 1511, they were met with the Java arquebus (actually I'm not sure if any were used in the battle, but they were noticed by the Portuguese after the conquest). This is less than half a century after the time of the first trigger-fired arquebuses known from Europe.

So, when you put it all this way, "the Portuguese brought guns to Japan" takes on a different timbre. The story as it's usually told slots nicely into this narrative that most Americans, at least, grow up with—the narrative of first contact, of technologically superior Europeans gallivanting around the world and blowing the natives' minds with what might as well be magic to them. And usually conquering them, which is perhaps sad, maybe even morally horrifying, but also inevitable. That's just how it goes when pre-modernity suddenly makes contact with modernity. But when you actually tell the full story, when you include all these details, the picture gets more complicated. The just-so story doesn't quite go down as easily.

So, these are just two examples. But to me it looks like the conversation in "the West" (I've been using this term throughout, but I actually kind of hate it—maybe I should say: the Anglosphere, at least) is full of these conspicuous absences, there's a lot of selective discussion of dates, facts, etc. in accordance with this narrative, and if you go just a little bit off the beaten path you lose the just-so story. I don't really think this is intentional, I just think it's a self-perpetuating cycle. People grow up hearing this story, they repeat it without knowing better, anything that accords with it feels reasonable and truthy and the narrative gets further cemented, etc.

This is why talk about the "Great Divergence" and so on bothers me so much. Not because it is untrue that Europe went through a period of great economic and scientific flourishing in the early modern period and through the 19th century; it certainly did. But because it seems to me that no one can bring themselves to tell this story without at the same time making a hundred little lies of omission, until the degree to which it resembles real history is strained in favor of something closer to mythology.

It's gonna bug me so much when, probably in the next couple decades, Japanese Imperial Household Law changes to allow women to ascend to the throne again and the Western media breathlessly reports that ultraconservative Japan is finally getting with the times...

In actuality Japan has had 8 empress regnants (that is, empresses who actually ruled, as opposed to just being the wife of an emperor; not to be confused with "empress regent" which is something else), including one empress who succeeded another empress (Empress Genshō following Empress Genmei) in a matrilineal fashion. Obviously this isn't great as far as gender equality goes, but it's basically comparable to European monarchies—in fact it's the same number of female monarchs as England has had in roughly the same span of time, given that the pre-Asuka emperors are more or less legendary. There's actually another empress, empress regent Jingū, if you want to count legendary figures. She may or may not be the same person as Queen Himiko of early Sino-Japanese records.

It's maybe worth noting also that the Chrysanthemum Throne has been a basically ceremonial position for most of Japanese history, from the 12th century until today, with the brief exception of the Empire of Japan from 1868 to 1945. But most of Japan's empresses reigned during the Asuka and Nara periods (6th to 8th centuries), when the monarchs were actually politically in power. In fact, during the Nara period just about every other reign was that of an empress.

Anyway, male-only succession and strict patrilineality weren't enshrined in law until the Imperial House Law of 1889 during the Meiji period, as part of the Prussian-influenced Meiji constitution. Certainly both principles had been strong norms prior to this, but they weren't legally enshrined. There's not any sense in which it would be unprecedented for Japan to have an empress, certainly no less precedented than for England to have a queen.

But it's Japan, right? They're uber traditional over there *katana sound effect* *kabuki YOOO sound effect* *salaryman bowing to his stern looking boss stock footage*. So obviously they're behind the enlightened west...

[cosmerelists]

Should You Copy These Cosmere Characters' Homework?

[Teacher voice] Of course, you should NEVER actually copy someone's homework, but... if you WERE going to copy someone's homework and you happened to be in the same class as these Cosmere characters, would it be a good idea to copy their homework in particular?

1. Dalinar: No

You tried it once. Dalinar told you that it's okay to fail sometimes, as long as you do better next time. Then he patted you on the shoulder and walked away. It was a little bit infuriating.

2. Elend: Yes

You know Elend's the smart kid in school. And he does kinda like to disobey authority too... As long as the teacher is a jerk, you should be safe asking Elend to help you pull one over on her.

3. Nale: No

Nale not only won't let you copy his homework, but he's telling the teacher you tried.

4. Renarin: Yes

If you ask Renarin if you can copy his homework, he'll end up helping you finish the homework instead. Not what you asked for or expected, but hey. At least it's done. The weird part is that he seemed like he was expecting this...

5. Painter: Sure

If you venture into the oddly dark corner where Painter is sitting and ask if you can borrow his homework, he'll say something like, "So...you were desperate enough to come to me?" But actually, his homework is pretty okay. He didn't pour his heart & soul into this assignment or anything, but that is a solid C right there.

6. Breeze: No

Breeze was kinda hoping to copy your homework so, you know, it's a little awkward now.

7. Siri: No

Siri also didn't do the homework. She's doing it right now, as fast as she possibly can, and she doesn't really have time for you at the moment.

8. Tress: Yes

Tress will want to help out, and her homework is gonna be in good shape, too. She also told you that she noticed you've seemed extra stressed and sad lately, so she made you this blueberry muffin. Y-You just met her last week!

9. Taravangian: No

There are only two ways this can play out. Either he says yes right away but the homework is horribly incorrect, or he says no and you just know that homework is perfect. There's no winning with this guy.

10. Shai: If you can afford it...

Shai has several copies of the homework, each different. Seriously, different handwriting, slightly different mistakes, different food stains....It's downright elaborate. She does charge a lot of money for one, though.

11. Steris: No

Steris' homework is done. It's perfect. But she's not gonna let you copy it, so.

12. Adolin: Yes

Adolin's homework won't be perfect (for one thing, he can't read), but he'd still be happy to help out. It's probably kinda correct, right?

13. Vivenna: No

I mean, you can try, but she's keeping it covered and glaring at you with a truly terrifying expression.

14. Kaladin: No!

You'll give the poor guy a crisis of conscience! He'll want to help you because you're in need, but he won't want to help you because helping you would be cheating. Don't do that to our boy.

15. Shallan: Sure!

Shallan studies hard, and she doesn't judge. Just...ignore the weird drawing in the margin of the many-headed beasts consuming the world. I-It probably means nothing!

16. Moash: No

Moash will give you all the wrong answers. He'll happily fail this assignment if it means taking you down too!

17. Jasnah: No

The look she gives you when she calmly asks, "Oh, did you not do the homework?" will haunt you for weeks. It's just not worth it, man!

18. Sarene: It's risky...

With Sarene, you never can tell whether her homework will be pristinely correct...or whether she'll give you the most ridiculous joke-answers that will make your teacher hand back your paper with that really sad frowny face on it.

S-She still got 100%, though! Did she give you decoy homework??

[c6jpg]

mixed feelings because on one hand damn the mad lads did it on the other hand this is barely gonna do shit in the grand scheme of things with how slowly resin regenerates

[ettadunham]

sometimes i remember the hunger games and how nobody actually paid attention to what was in those books

[unproduciblesmackdown]

already was musing on how like, here's an intro that's Establishing Things, and it's like, does it matter that we were given a quants interaction of winston being like "hey you were nice to me there, actually. it reminds me of how" only for rian to pull the nice maneuvers of not wanting to listen to him share anything, being willing to just issue an order to someone about what he gets to do (talk for ten seconds) and doing so, then some underwhelming flair used to insult him surely, i guess that he's so stupid(tm) or whatever. like, wondering does that mean anything really that that was just about rian being an asshole, as has been sprinkled in before, just little moments that deadend with winston just feeling Disheartened b/c rian was shitty for no reason. does it mean anything that she did anything for the quant duo before that in refusing a chance to not sit next to him. theoretically just a [we're still tmc] kind of choice to stick together, and sure didn't move her to even treat him like a person she dislikes, just a nonperson she also dislikes

and relatedly it's going to be just as hilarious as rian, what, implying winston hasn't heard / of the french language, that the theory that rian and dollar bill become some kind of duo based on being Hilarious(tm) but also just terrible to any & everyone and bullying people has only more plausible, And that this episode of billions' introduction / establishment of dollar bill is decidedly centered around "yeah nobody likes this guy or can stand to deal with him. not even the people paid to be there, not even the self-declared Too Nice guy who kept choosing hanging out with dollar bill & his bullying over working & hanging out with his friend taylor" so it sure doesn't seem like that's leaving much room for [oh that was an oversight] if dollar bills going to fuck off into mpc hq on the regular and rian's immediately going to be like of course i can roll with this fuckin asshole

and truly a distillation of "rian's supposedly gets the 'good' treatment of More Material & being taken more seriously by other characters, but this only meant that instead of any sense of character &/or her own actual subplots ever, she's whatever a different more prominent character needs for their plot at any given time; winston's peripheral funny little guy unimportance & insulting treatment is still so much better re: being a character" if winston gets the worst treatment of being shoved out of mpc by episode three and rian is graced with hanging around most or all season only to be judged & condemned to now have that loss of [quant duo] replaced with being insufferable bullying horrible person dollar bill's New Friend and like, right away, with ease. and like i was saying like i would not argue with that, if rian had the consistent principle of treating anyone with basic respect she wouldn't be treating winston as a nonperson, and of course she has a broader capacity for being an asshole to anyone at any point that's just drier and less [outbursts of physical aggression] than dollar bill's style.

no idea what rian's overall arcs could be when yknow, why is she here, why has she stayed here, her most relevance right now gets to be "has the dialogue capacity to talk about getting prince with a sex scandal. also has zero thoughts on how power factors into one rather than that you just need to be polite about it?" which only feels truly character specific when held up against "rian was supposedly bullied but also Above even hating the people who did it. but she is also a bully and not even especially emotionally detached about it, even though how she treats winston is more important than how she feels about it" like basically "also a bully" is her most coherent deal. and it's just Interesting that simply being mean to winston is again basically pointed out, and her future bestie or [put in the same shots duo status] dollar bill is Impending but the episode was like "yeah of course everyone hates this guy, for being awful" and the joke nonjoke the whole time that unfortunately rian might get along just fine with bill as workplace (and probably also life in general, it's not a honed strategy they limit to the office) bullies

so that That's what rian gets for getting to stick around, while winston Might get to be shoved out of the fund hq with any character flair from him and, i do unfortunately have to wonder harder now, maybe any relevance afforded to the way people have treated him, indeed maybe rian especially, his personal bully and abusive friend. and because other people also see rian as better than him & maybe also winston as [not a person], if winston does anything that's indeed deliberately petty, mean, Angry, etc, towards rian, That will be seen as unacceptable vs the yknow checks notes years of cruel interpersonal treatment from rian to winston, but nothing hangs in the balance on that front, people won't suddenly be like "nice. winston's a person to me now, which, why am i even in a position to Decide that" if he's shoved out & goes quietly & politely and creates no problems in return. and, very much like dollar bill, i don't think rian will change, but for winston's own sake it would be Heartening if he voices his experience such that we know he knows it was bullshit, even though of course rian, and probably anyone else, isn't going to choose to listen past 5 seconds, least of all when he's clearly indicating a general state of irritation. rooting for flair and idiosyncrasy for him and indeed that the best sources for that could be with taylor, please, the person he's always been here for, rian, the person for years now bullying him more than she does anyone else or more than anyone else does to winston, and even fun if there's anything with tuk his apparent genuine friend tuk, and by "fun" i mean "such a delight i daren't really think much abt it From Canon"

anyways the tl;dr i suppose is that winston getting apparently thrown away in the first third of the season is insulting treatment but rian getting to stay and be dollar bill's wretched bestie is truly the worse fate and basically that distillation of like. oh winston's bringing it on himself he's so annoying nobody likes him, while in actuality all the ways he's never fit in or done things "right" and how he would never have been hired if taylor hadn't done it are all compliments and endorsements. while rian's been viewed as a capable valuable person by all from the start and treated as Better Than even others who are still also seen people, but her "success" and the shit she gets to continue to do in how she treats people b/c nothing about being at work stops that and some things facilitate & reward it, see: also dollar bill being around the whole time & now also back, definitely include treating a friendly coworker any which way, which she usually chooses to be: badly. and of course shoutout to the thread of taylor being like "if you stay btw you'll probably get all fucked up" but like also rian just Brought the [i'm a bully but it's fine when i do it. it's bad when it happens to Me] stance from the start, but like, obviously always the opportunity to get worse and just be left off with that implication of Never Trying To Learn, just like your new good friend dollar bill

real tl;dr As Fates Go winston being shitted on & fired / driven to quit >>>>>>>> rian sticking around, befriending dollar bill. and like not in the way i'm arguing that the fate is worse like In Conceptual Quality. it's just a hell of a potential condemnation / indirect illustration of like, here's this person it's horrible to be around, here's a reminder rian is cruel to this coworker on a dime anytime, here's rian deciding the horrible person is Alright anyways. maybe they'll be busy with a bullying power struggle the whole time. and maybe winston will get to appear outside the fund actually. just really something to be going like "oh my god lmao rian and dollar bill might actually be specifically getting along well as fellow [be horrible to coworkers] bullies and assholes who feel Above It, it being many other people, this being a kind of requirement there" and to be wondering if billions will make this fact that rian's job is being an asshole more relevant at all, if even to be like yeah leaving off with a lost cause here, including that i really doubt winston can Get Through To her even with his ability & willingness to air his grievances, and like, as though oh actually winston brought it upon himself b/c rian just didn't knowww, that's on him and his visible pain & verbal expressions of that pain & requests that she stop which Weren't Enough, and as though maintaining that onesided dynamic for bullying and demeaning and shutting down and abusing was like an unconscious accidental coincidence every time and not its own Active Process, regardless of what the other person does or doesn't do, and with the agenda of maintaining that [i'm the person who chooses how things go; they're the object that reacts accordingly like it's laws of physics level of demands of reality] one-sided relationship, so they'd only just be looking to react to what that other person does or doesn't do in ways that serve those purposes anyway. sometimes rian's "nicer" but she's still the one deciding how everything goes, winston can only roll with it like a ball at the top of a ramp like, of course, unquestionable. cue space winston, zero gravity

haha another tl;dr. winston being disposed of is a warmer Fate to assign a character than rian's potential "of course she's friends with dollar bill now" like lmfao Ouch. but yeah of course.

[keferon]

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

[radiance1]

By all accounts, it shouldn't have worked.

By all bloody accounts, that should not have worked.

Constantine will repeat.

That, by all accounts, should not have worked.

The warehouse was shitty. The materials were shitty. The summoning circle was shitty. The chanting was shitty. The magic was shitty.

By all accounts, the summoning should not have worked.

So Constantine couldn't give much of a shit about really stopping it because the summoning was so shitty it shouldn't have worked by an means possible.

So what. In the ever-loving fuck. Was the Ghost King, known tyrant of the Infinite Realms. Standing in the middle of the circle and not, last he checked, imprisoned?

That was another thing that he thought would have made it fail, actually. Because the Ghost King was incapacitated, asleep, gone, unavailable, nada.

So what. The fuck. Was he doing. Here?

Constantine knew the day was going to well to stay that way but wow. The universe loves to fuck him over, apparently.

Or the Justice League in specific.

Or both.

Doesn't matter, because now he has to bullshit his way out of this or get ready to brawl for his life.

Good thing he's good at both of those things, then.

Mostly the bullshit-

"Phantom what the fuck are you doing-" Constantine wheezed out, watching one of their newest members-a ghost going by the name Phantom-fly over in front of the known tyrant and-

Oh.

Oh, holy shit this won't end well.

Ghost King.

Phantom. A ghost.

Well, shit.

This is fine. This is totally fine. He just needs to bullshit his way out of this or face two powerhouses.

This is fine.

He's done worse.

"Sup War" Phantom said, floating around the summoning circle that contained the king of all ghosts like it wasn't a problem. "Didn't expect to be seeing you here."

"Ward." The Ghost King inclined his head slightly, eyes trained on Phantom. "I would not have come here if not for Time's insistence and I have been meaning to..." The King paused, hands gripping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword. "...Check in... on you."

"Aww, were you worried about lil old meeeee?" Phantom, ever the little shit and holy shit did Constantine want to go over there and shut him up, said. Floating around until he was staring upside down in the Ghost King's face. "Didn't know you were so soft, pa."

"I am not soft." The King huffed, flame dancing at the edges of his hair. "I was merely... concerned. Over how you would be acclimating to your circumstances. This world's League of Justice covers far more than your small haunt."

"Weeeell, it's not that bad honestly." Phantom admitted. "Haven't really done anything too big yet just some smallish things here and there. So, you know." The ghost boy shrugged, swinging back in the air to turn upright and crossing his legs. "Nothing too bad."

"Good." The Ghost King nodded, shoulders slumping so slightly that if Constantine wasn't looking, he wouldn't have seen it. "That is good. Yes. Good." The King slightly cleared his throat, grasping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword.

Silence echoed in the warehouse as the King seemingly looked for words to say.

"Would you..." He cleared his throat again, squaring his shoulders and standing up straighter. "Would you like to join me and Time for a meeting? It has been some time since you had last joined us." The King shifted slightly before adding. "Of course, if you're busy you do not have too."

"Sure." Phantom said, rolling back and forth in the air as he hummed. "Been a while since we've had some family time-"

"Family time?" Constantine caught someone-who he thinks was Green Lantern-say. He was just as bewildered.

"And if Time sent you here then it must be important." Danny paused before shrugging. "Or maybe not, can never know with him. But yea, sure. I'll come."

"Wonderful." The Ghost King smiled. Smiled. At Phantom. "Then I shall. Leave. Now. To do. Things. Yes. Things." The summoning circle flashed a familiar green, the same green when the King was first being summoned. "Goodbye, ward."

"You can call me son, you know."

The King paused for a moment, blinking slowly before hesitantly nodding.

"Then goodbye. Son."

The circle flashed and just like that. The king was gone.

"Kid. What the fuck." Whoever said- okay wait no that was Constantine, him. But yea fuck it he agrees with himself. "What the fuck." He repeated.

Phantom, the brat, only gave him a shit eating grin and a peace sign before disappearing on the spot.

[happybunnykat]

So I am a firm believer that Elias put Martin in the Archives to die first. He was like "Okay Martin's pretty much completely useless and Jon doesn't like him. This is perfect, he'll be the first person to die, so Jon will learn the stakes of this job but won't be too upset about it!"

And then Martin didn't die. And kept not dying. And Jon started to actually like him. A lot. This is a problem because Jon is getting distracted and sentimental and focused o

So Elias is like "Damn okay Jon now wants me dead (passive) but if I do anything to Martin directly Jon will want me dead (active) and might actually try to kill me and/or do other things that will ruin my plans."

So, he's tries to pass him off to Peter to get rid of him that way.

And then Jon kills Peter, confirming what Elias thought would happen if he did something to Martin, but none of that matters now because Jon is right where Elias wants him.

And then the Eyepocalypse happens, and Martin is the one who helps Jon stay as they travel across the broken world and to the Panopitcon, where Jon killed Elias anyway.

And all of this could have been avoided on Jonah's end if he had just not put Martin in the Archives.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag VI

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: You go for a visit to see the Barcelona team

Ingrid ignores the odd looks she gets as she and Mapi step into the locker room.

She walks straight up to Caro, a smug grin on her face.

"I've got The Baby!" She says gleefully, rocking her body side to side as you giggle.

"Mapi," Patri whispers," That's not a baby. Your girlfriend knows that, right?"

"That's y/n," Mapi says in answer, hanging up her bag," She's Frida and her girlfriend's daughter. Ingrid's her auntie."

"Maanum, right? That Frida? What's she doing in Barcelona?"

"They're having a little visit before they go to Tenerife. Ingrid volunteered us for a sleepover last night."

Patri winces. "Was it bad?"

"She's delightful actually," Mapi answers," Ate all her dinner without complaints and had a cup of warm milk before bed. Most well behaved kid I've ever met."

"Caro!" You say happily," Caro! Caro! Caro!"

Caro smiles a bit awkwardly at all the attention, at the way you're trying to fling yourself out of Ingrid's grip and into Caro's arms.

"Hey, squish," She says," You're looking good."

"Caro!" You continue," Caro, cuddles, please!"

Caro takes you from a slightly put-out Ingrid's arms, bouncing you stiffly for a moment as you try to attach yourself to her.

It looks like Marta is trying to force herself not to coo at the sweet scene as you babble at Caro, rushing through everything that's happened in your life since you last saw her.

"This is so unfair," Ingrid complains as she sits down in her cubby, arms crossed over her chest as she watches longingly while you show off your new Barcelona shirt to Caro and Marta," I'm the one that she had the sleepover with. I can't believe she's gone to Caro...Again!"

"Again?" Pina snickers.

"Caro's her favourite at camp too," Ingrid continues," I don't understand how! I'm the one that always buys her new toys! I spoil her!"

"You're jealous of Caro because she's getting more attention from a child?"

"You don't understand, Jana," Ingrid says dismissively," Squish...Y/n...She's...She's such a little sweetheart and she's so nice and she has so much love to give."

"Mama says Caro has a soft spot for Maanums," You're telling Marta as you happily soak up the attention," And that if I'm scared at camp and can't find her or auntie Ingrid, I have to go to Caro because she's responsible and won't let anything happen to me."

Caro's face glows red at the statement and she tries not to meet the teasing eyes of her girlfriend.

"And you really like Caro a lot, huh?"

"Uh-huh! Caro is the best at cutting up my food small!"

"Really? What else is she good at?"

"She makes sure I'm wearing my hat when it's snowing at camp! And! And last camp, she took me to the vending machine to get cookies! But you can't tell my Mama because I wasn't meant to have any."

Marta laughs. "I won't." She grins at Caro, bumping her girlfriend with her hip. "I didn't know you were so good with kids."

"I'm not," Caro says stiffly," Just The Baby. She's cool."

"I think you're cool too, Caro!" You giggle.

Ingrid doesn't end up with custody of you again until after lunch when Caro goes off on a phone call and Ingrid can snatch you up again without anyone getting in the way.

You giggle as she litters kisses on your cheeks.

"There's my squish again!" Ingrid laughs," You came back to me!"

"Ingrid," You giggle, feet kicking out instinctively," I always come back!"

"Oh! I missed you so much!" She pulls you into a hug that you reciprocate quickly.

After Frida and Emma, you think Ingrid gives the best hugs. Even better hugs than Emma's dog Jordan and he's one of your favourite huggers in the world.

"And who's this little girl?"

"Alexia, this is my niece, y/n. Squish, this is Alexia, she's the captain of Barcelona."

You frown. "Like how Kim's the Arsenal captain?"

"Exactly like that."

You grin, face splitting open as you show off your dimples. "Hi, Spanish Kim! Oh...er...Ingrid...what was her name again?"

"Alexia."

"Hi, Alexia! It's nice to meet you."

Alexia can't help but smile as you hold your little hand out for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n. I didn't know Ingrid had a niece."

"She and my Mama are friends!" You explain," But we don't see each other a lot because I live in Sweden."

Alexia pulls up a chair, settling into it and leaning a bit closer so she can hear your properly.

"Really?"

"Yeah with Mummy and our dog Jordan. But then Mama brings me to Norway when I'm on camp so I can see Ingrid and Caro! They say I'm the team baby!"

Alexia laughs. "That sounds about right, you're still very little."

"I start school soon," You tell her, puffing out your chest," And Mapi told me last night that I'm a growing girl!"

Alexia nods along. "Of course you are! And you know what growing girls get in Barcelona?"

"No?" Your eyes go wide. "What do they get?"

"They get to choose things out of the vending machine!" Alexia tells you seriously as she offers her hand," Do you want to pick some stuff out with me?"

Ingrid sighs deeply as Mapi snickers. "Next time we get her for a sleepover, we're not coming into training the next day."

[ventique18]

Ok so I've been seeing complaints about Book 7's ending by a few minority not only here, but from other platforms as well. While everyone is of course allowed to dislike something, let's tackle a few points:

Malleus deserved a harsher punishment

Everyone witnessed Diasomnia's moment. Everybody knew he accidentally killed Lilia. Everyone knows how much Lilia means to Malleus. So everyone knows that there's no punishment harsher than the eternal scar of accidentally killing your own father.

And that's not enough, because he lost majority of his power. THIS is his prolonged punishment. We should remember that his entire life revolved around being the strongest, so all of his foundation hinged on that. If you're an artist, it's like losing your dominant hand and having to relearn how to draw with your other. Except in his case it's like losing both his hands so he needs to learn how to draw with his feet.

While it's true that he's far happier now than he was when he was strong, that doesn't mean he won't go through so much suffering as a consequence. For 200 years. 200 years of being weak means he's not fit to be king; no Dark Fae will follow a man akin to a common Fae. His nobles will not respect him. He's now a very easy target, since he's not indestructible anymore.

This basically means he's currently a pretty decoration to Briar Valley. An unemployed trust fund kid. Random people will likely mock him or treat him like an amusing animal in a zoo.

Which means he will have to build his reputation from the ground up, against all odds, as a disgraced prince.

Malleus tried to kill x and x

No he did not. He genuinely thought he found a breakthrough and was doing the world a service by making immortality accessible to everyone. Remember that he used to be the strongest; he thought nobody was just capable of this feat until he did.

He was quite literally insane at that moment. When he did accidentally kill Lilia, he snapped to his senses and immediately reacted like a small child. He doesn't want to believe it, because he would never do something like that. He simply doesn't want to kill anyone-- what he wanted was the opposite: that nobody needs to die anymore.

Everybody left him off the hook so easily

We get a lot of scenes explaining this. Sure maybe for you their reasons are bullshit, but the fact is that this is a Disney story. He would never be executed. But the following are from different accounts from different characters.

There were actually very few injured, because even though he was insane in dragon form, a part of his morality was there and he unconsciously avoided hurting people as much as possible. There are more injuries that happen in Spelldrive than who Malleus injured, according to Epel.

For the rest of the student body, they were simply having the best dreams of their lives. Many compared to it an amusement park and want to experience it again.

The other overblotters tried to protest, but were reminded that they too almost killed people. Some were genuinely out to kill people while Malleus wasn't.

Most people on Sage Island are actually good people, unlike NRC students. They embody the values of Fantasia Mickey, where the apprentice was given a second chance instead of being exiled because he showed actual remorse.

He is entitled and thinks he's always right

Yes he's entitled. But that's part of his character. He thought he was right, insisted he was right, but when he was defeated and told otherwise, he accepted it wholeheartedly. He was the only overblotter who actually apologized in public, recognized he did wrong, thanked everyone for helping him, and swore he will become a better man.

He literally can't take back anything that's happened. Kicking him further will not achieve anything.

Why didn't he talk it out with Yuu instead of immediately jumping to overblot

He doesn't even understand that he's feeling something negative. Nobody taught him to recognize his own feelings. He was raised to be strong and independent, so his first instinct was to deal with the problem himself.

He can't even talk it out with Lilia and Silver; there was no way he could talk it out to a friend he just met that year.

His power literally hurts his surroundings when he tries to feel things. He's likely afraid of accidentally striking someone with lightning or drowning them in storms if he admits that he's feeling down.

He didn't know too much negative feelings could lead to an overblot. He was already out of his mind before he knew it.

There could be more but these are off the top of my head.

[dameronology]

matt murdock headcanons

i have about 4000 words to write for my thesis so instead i am writing these. enjoy xx

matt takes his coffee black. nothing else added, literally just black. anything else overwhelms his senses. for the first six months of your relationship, you kept accidentally leaving little coffee grounds floating in the bottom that made him want to die, but he loves you so he did not say anything.

actually, matt is the king of "i love you so i won't say anything." if you burn dinner or wear that one scratchy jumper that overwhelms him or flood the bathroom so it's a gosh darn slip and slide, he won't say anything. why would he? he loves you as you are.

matt doesn't need you to guide him in public but he will hold your arm or hand just because he wants too. he especially likes when your hands are loosely intertwined and he can feel your pulse against his skin. it's calming for him.

sometimes he forgets that you weren't always in his life. he'll tell a story from college as though you were because it just doesn't feel right to have lived a life where you weren't in it.

matt rarely calls you by your name. it's always sweetheart, and sometimes baby.

although one time foggy heard him call you the latter and then called matt baby girl and babycakes for a week until karen threatened to beat them both up

on the subject of foggy & karen -- they both love you!! they'd always been protective of their little trio but you fit in perfectly.

those two quickly become your best friends.

josie's for drinks after work on a friday is standard. matt will always have an arm looped around your waist, or a hand on your thigh, or just any form of physical contact really. mostly because he's over protective.

matt doesn't get hungover and it's really fucking annoying. you've seen him pound back pint after pint, just to wake up feeling fresh as a daisy the next day.

the good news?? he's vision impaired so he won't open the curtains when you're hanging out your absolute arse !!

he's the best at looking after you when you're hanging, though. he'll make you a smoothy and a greasy breakfast.

actually, matt is just the best in the mornings anyways. you'll always have a cup of coffee made before you're awake, with breakfast on the counter.

living with matt is domestic bliss tbh

that's not to say you don't argue -- you're both human and in his line of work, both day job and night job, it comes with its bad days and times when he keeps shit bottled up

so you prod and you poke until he explodes and finally, you argue and it's cathartic as hell

matty is very overprotective too, which has lead to tension

it was a little over the top at first, but you settle for having life 360 on both your phones and letting him know when you arrive places safely

even when you have really bad arguments, you always find your back to each other

one time you joked "i'll send you a text if wilson fisk murders me" and he didn't find it funny

actually he almost cried

the be all and end all though is that against the back drop of new york city, and even though you're in the arse, you are everything that's pure in matt's world.

[astonmartinii]

undercover verstappen | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem verstappen!reader

get you a girlfriend who will threaten mutiny to get you a seat at a competent team

based on this request: HI BABES I HOPE YOU ARE WELL! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM! So basically I have an idea for a (possible?) Smau series, so basically it's Charles leclerc × verstappen!reader, she is a reserve driver for redbull but is also maxs race engineer (idk if you call it that? The person that talks to them that one) so she's very involved with the team and f1 in general. The public doesn't know that her and Charles are dating, and they don't even think it as Charles and max "hate" eachother (they are both doing this to protect readers and Charles relationship, they are actually besties) and basically, reader has enough if ferraris tractor, so she's like 'I will get you too redbull' and then checo retires at the end of the 2023 season, and instead of taking the job when she was offered it, she asks if Charles could have it (obviously not publicised) and Christian is like "Yes very good idea" so he asks Charles who is uncertain at first but is then OK with the idea (he is worried about becoming a second driver to max but there is lots of reassuring that he won't be nd so he accepts) and then he goes on to win 2024 wdc (and wcc but irrelevant) and he's sad that he couldn't do it with ferrari omg that's long sorry babes - @lillians-world-is-f1

MASTERLIST | TIPS

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen, yourusername and 1,390,887 others

tagged: schecoperez

redbullracing: checo has informed the team that he will be retiring from the sport at the end of the 2023 season. we thank checo for his service and all the good times, he will forever be a legend of this sport. VAMOS CHECO 👏

view all comments

user1: EXCUSE ME?

user2: they really thought they could drop this on a monday and we'd all be chill

maxverstappen1: i've heard tequila tastes even better when you're retired, congrats mate - we'll miss you

user3: wait does this mean it'll be double verstappen on the grid now?

user4: there's more than one of them?

user5: max's sister is the girl you'll hear on his radio and she's technically the reserve driver as well. so she might step up to the second seat now checo has retired

user6: idk about you but that spells trouble to me

yourusername: congrats checo! will miss you, carola and all the little ones x

schecoperez: you won't be able to get rid of them that easily, i'll be cashing in on some well earned babysitting hours

yourusername: can't wait !!!

user7: what i'm hearing is that there's a chance for a daniel return to red bull?

user8: double verstappen or maxiel i don't want to choose they're both my children

user9: i'm making an outside shout for a charles leclerc red bull era

user10: i am seeing the lestappen vision

user11: my personal headcanon is that both verstappens and charles are all besties and have always been besties

christianhorner: thank you for your service checo, first drink on me 👍

user12: i know christian is sweating having to make a choice between child no 2 y/n and child no 3 daniel

user13: idk i think daniel might have the edge

user14: if geri or max have anything to do with it we might have a team so dutch that the car will be orange next season

user15: christian punching the walls cause lando extended his mclaren contract literally last week 😭

EXCERPT OF RECORDING OF THE RED BULL GARAGE, ABU DHABI

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 892,309 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: verstappens take the city

view all comments

user18: i just know they are simultaneously the best people to party with but also the people you probably don’t want at a house party

yourusername: i’ll have you know i once plunged a toilet at a house party and disposed of a “sick sandwich” i am a DELIGHT

user19: and max?

yourusername: no comment

maxverstappen1: as if ! i don’t care if we’re blood im suing you for slander

yourusername: i watched you volley a vase at AD21

maxverstappen1: i paid for it !!! and you said it was a sick shot anyway FAKE

yourusername: you can say that cause personally i was not at fault of any of my actions that night x

user20: PLEASE MA'AM AT LEAST ONE SEASON OF DOUBLE TROUBLE PLEASE

user21: idk if i could deal with seeing jos verstappen every weekend tho...

user22: obsessed with how neither verstappen follow charles but here he be in her notifications again

user23: someone add it to the interaction spreadsheet i am CONVINCED it will one day lead to more

landonorris: lando norris erasure once again

user24: DID YOU WRITE THAT NOTE???

landonorris: hell no i'd rather peel my skin off than call the three raccoons disguised as a woman pretty

yourusername: good gosh we would've got the point without all of that

maxverstappen1: yeah lando only i'm allowed to call y/n the raccoons in a trench coat. know your place.

user25: so you do wanna tell us who wrote the note then?

yourusername: nope ;p

user26: only y/n and max have been spotted out so maybe it's just brotherly love

user27: LOL? MAX? BROTHERLY LOVE?

danielricciardo: invite seemed to get lost in the mail again

yourusername: either get a room or get out of my comment section

maxverstappen1: ???

user28: no maxiel red bull again. i don't think y/n's blood pressure can take it

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,544,924 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

f1: ready to see them as teammates? charles leclerc has signed a deal with red bull to keep him at the team until 2028.

view all commments

user29: excuse me *clears throat* WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

redbullracing: welcome charles!!! no inchidents please

charles_leclerc: will we ever hear the end of that joke?

redbullracing: we know what the girlies want charles

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while. no ice bath thirst traps here though

charles_leclerc: phew 😥

user30: this little hoe pretending he didn't love it

user31: wait ??? does this mean what i think it could mean? GIRLFRIEND?

user32: i can't take leaving ferrari and a girlfriend in one day sorry

yourusername: welcome to the team charles :)

user33: don't think we forgot about the recording babe... IS THIS WHO YOU RECOMMENED?

danielricciardo: it better not be because if you recommended your lil boyfriend over sexy ol' me i'm gonna be real mad 😭

this comment was deleted

user34: WE SAW THAT WHAT THE FUCK

maxverstappen1: daniel you are so fucking dumb

yourusername: MAX? IGNORE IT?

maxverstappen1: bro it's all over twitter you might as well take the moment to curse out daniel before christian confiscates our phones

yourusername: DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO YOU RAT BASTARD I'M GONNA RIP WHATEVER REMAINING HAIR YOU HAVE LEFT AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR SURPRISINGLY PERKY ASS. IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT YOU AND YOUR CHILD BEARING HIPS WILL NEVER GET CLOSE TO A RED BULL EVER AGAIN FOR EXPOSING A SECRET US THREE HAVE KEPT FOR SEVEN FUCKING YEARS

charles_leclerc: what she said

maxverstappen1: oop.

user35: well. can we keep going this is quite fun.

christianhorner: they're all in time out sorry

user36: okay well now that happened... when can we get "who knows me better my boyfriend or my brother" lestappen version 🤨

charles_leclerc: i would wipe the floor with him

maxverstappen1: of course you would you BIG FAT NERD

charles_leclerc: i thought christian took your phone?

maxverstappen1: as if he doesn't fall for the verstappen puppy dog eyes every time

charles_leclerc: you'll use them for me right babe, RIGHT BABE?

yourusername: idk charlie, this is family business

christianhorner: i've taken their phones again

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,304,555 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

yourusername: my favourite men in the world doing what they do best

view all comments

user37: take me out back and shoot me already

christianhorner: interesting i don't see myself here and considering i pay your wages...

yourusername: dads go in different categories?

christianhorner: don't use my paternal instincts against me y/n

yourusername: say goodbye to your father's day card

christianhorner: NO I'M SORRY

user38: the way this proves that second red bull really was y/n's ...

user39: for real imagine loving a MAN so much you give it to HIM 🤮

user40: she also said in that recording at jos made it so bad for the two of them when they did compete that she no longer wanted to give the fans and the media the chance to do it either

charles_leclerc: oh wow that's crazy, you're my favourite woman ever

yourusername: don't be so rude to mama pascale

charles_leclerc: well other than mama obvioysly

yourusername: so i'm not your favourite, i see how it is

charles_leclerc: I AM SO CONFUSED SO I'M JUST GONNA SAY I LOVE YOU

yourusername: awww charlie i love you too

user41: okay i've known about them approximately two weeks and i love them your honour

maxverstappen1: i'm so much better than him y/n be real

yourusername: don't be such a sore loser maxy

maxverstappen1: don't get it twisted, i still won on track

charles_leclerc: not for long

yourusername: okay girlies leave the trash talk for the weekends this is being normal for the sake of y/n's mental health time

user42: good lord this trio is so dear to me

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,043,788 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

maxverstappen1: best thing about winning is choosing the restaurant after - closely followed about the worst thing: third wheeling them.

view all comments

user43: max coming through with the y/n and charles content as he should

user44: i need him to open the vault cause i have not forgotten that y/n said this relationship is seven years old

yourusername: i think i had a wet dream about this sushi spread last night

maxverstappen1: as long as that's it, good.

yourusername: i don't need to have wet dreams anymore, the real thing is so much better

maxverstappen1: BLOCKED.

user45: i know y/n is elated to be able to publicly terrorise max with her relationship

user46: so does this mean that this is a system they've had for a while?

yourusername: room service is our middle names

charles_leclerc: maximilian can you please send the last pic to the shared album

maxverstappen1: on it 🫡

user47: SHARED ALBUM? I MIGHT DIE

yourusername: you two are such cutie patooties

maxverstappen1: but for real no being so cute on my jet again or just wait for me to go for my nap

charles_leclerc: heard and understood

yourusername: or maybe just get a life and stop being so lonely

danielricciardo: can i join for sushi or am i still banned?

maxverstappen1: eh, you could take y/n in a scrap

danielricciardo: she read my ass for filth on main i'm scared of her

charles_leclerc: she had you gagged

danielricciardo: and this litlle guard puppy agrees with whatever she says :(

yourusername: as he should !

maxverstappen1: don't try and fight it daniel, i've been in this losing battle for seven years

charles_leclerc

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,834,903 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: life in blue could never be blue with you. i love you baby, thank you for giving me this opportunity, every trophy is for you x

view all comments

user48: GOD PLEASE SAVE ME PLEASE GOD SAVE ME FROM THIS SINGLE LIFE.

yourusername: i love you too charlie, i'd do everything and more for you. i'm happy you're happy x

charles_leclerc: you can't get rid of me at this point

yourusername: seven years strong, i'm stuck to you like glue

charles_leclerc: you'll have my last name (or i can take yours) next

maxverstappen1: you can give her a ring but you'll NEVER TAKE THE VERSTAPPEN NAME AWAY

yourusername: you good?

maxverstappen1: yeah but we must always be double trouble. not even THAT man will come between that

user49: this is the trio of my dreams i need a whole drive to survive ep or even spin off just following these losers around

danielricciardo: see how could you be angry that i would want to talk about all this cuteness ?

yourusername: we are cute, correct.

charles_leclerc: i'd use the words incredibly sexy but okay

danielricciardo: are you guys still angry? I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOU

yourusername: we forgive you daniel.

charles_leclerc: i was also kissing her on my first podium REGARDLESS

yourusername: you're so romantic 🥰

maxverstappen1: GAG.

user50: convinced that max will still be the biggest big brother asshole until he is in the retirement home

alexalbon: flexing the alex albon and lily mun he photography i see

yourusername: thank you for your service

lilymunhe: we can also keep a secret 🤫

danielricciardo: I SAID I WAS SORRY

charles_leclerc: we're gonna hold it over you forever buddy

danielricciardo: was taking the red bull seat not enough?

charles_leclerc: until i win a championship? yes.

fin.

note: I'M BACK!! hope this was what you were looking for xx also, if you guys ever want to support me in any way i have a tip jar on kofi xx

[lxdymoon0357]

Hey how are you doing I hope. Can I request a yandere Phileo Boleoti x f reader. In which reader is leonia's assigned nanny. Phileo Boleoti from I become the male lead adopted daughter 😶‍🌫️

(Thank you for this request!! Warnings: mentions of child abuse, kidnapping, manipulation, using Leonia a manipulation bait, murder, isolation, starvation, accusations)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

Yandere! Phileo Boleoti X Nanny! Reader

╬ Phileo had of-course met you because you were Leonia's nanny..caring for the rambunctious kid of his who ran around, salivating over muscles. He had always been thankful to you sort of for keeping her out of trouble, he was usually so tired caring for her.

╬ It wasn't long before he was close with you, almost actually being friends and Leonia of-course caught on..she was weirdly smart like that. Teasing him for hours on end and almost revealing his feelings, but he kept her quiet with candies and stuff...thank the lord.

╬ Leonia was so excited when Phileo did eventually ask you out. She was adamant on planning everything and threatened to disown her dad if he hurt you. And eventually she was also the one to suggest the kidnapping and everything innocently as if it was a passing comment, but she utterly meant to give her father the suggestion to kidnap to keep you locked to her, she loves you! You're her mum now!

╬ Phielo is very protective, easy guess. Like Leonia, most people won't be fucking with you if they see the Boleoti family symbol on your clothing, coats or jewellery. You're forced into wearing them, Vera and Rupert are the one to make sure you're okay. Levipath is your guard when Leonia is spending time with you, making sure you're okay but above all also making sure Leonia won't get hurt by any outbursts you do out of loneliness, anger, sadness and stuff, she cannot afford it.

╬ But it doesn't mean he's nice all the time, he does have a few punishments, mostly soft ones like starving you for a day or two, but is face is just so intimidating, you don't get the easy habit of actually walking over his rules and lines. He's very strict and stern on rules, though he does let you free a bit on his rules, but he makes sure you follow it like a good girl.

╬ Phileo is very much adamant on having NO person who can admire you more than him, it's easier to haunt them down with accusations of breeding illegal monsters for exotic pet trade. He'll plant it on the person and their family, no mercy or remorse in his veins...The hell are they gonna do? Accuse the GRAND DUKE?! It has to be a deranged joke.

╬ Phileo sometimes feels it's too far, but he does use Leonia as a way to keep you locked down to him. You're bound to get connected to Leonia seeing how you're her nanny and also because she's a kid and you're gonna get protective, he'll use Leonia as a way to keep you tied to him as long as stockholm syndrome kicks in.

╬ There is no way he's going to let you go, that much is easy to tell. He'll literally put you on blacklist with a criminal record on abusing kids so no one will hire you as a nanny so even if you escape, you will not last long in the world without a job as a nanny. He'll make sure you have no one else but him and Leonia in your life. Accusations, crime record, he'll do anything in his power to keep you as down as possible.

╬ Leonia is also smart enough, being old enough..she'll go with anything her father tells her to, she'll listen to everything he says, manipulate you even more since you're her nanny and all. She isn't actually allowed to spend too much time with you now though, just for her safety in Phileo's opinion until you're utterly used to this lifestyle, Leonia has a new nanny whom she does not like AT ALL!

╬ Phileo has few trusted people to even interact with you, with a few maids. Those people don't even include Rupert, only Vera, Levipath and Leonia to interact with you. Rupert might agree to not see you for his own safety since he know a little mistake could risk his life too even as Phileo's dear friend. He didn't want it, and he didn't want to involve himself, though he does serve you seriously and makes sure you're living normally.

╬ Phileo often takes his competition to his monster expeditions and kills them there, if they are somewhere in his guard-ship or his staff, or they plant crimes on the person, like I said about illegally breeding monsters for illegal exotic pet trade, but other types of crimes as well, if they are someone else. He is not afraid to even plant crimes or dig up as much dirt as possible on other nobles.

╬ Vera like to keep you in line for honor and image of the Boleoti, she's possibly the only Phileo trusts you with, he even trusts her to raise her hand on you if it meant to keep you in line, somehow. Of-course Vera only hit you if you're like VERY out of line and disobedient, she'll use your trauma against you, if you have any, but he usually doesn't, she's a calm woman for the lady of the house after all.

[phoenix-art-official]

Inspired by i could imagine the end of the world and nothing else by cottonmouthcandy on Ao3 (link in reblogs)

“Couldn’t talk for a month after I got out of that goddamned city. Just clammed up. Started sweatin’ like I was hunted every time I opened my mouth.”

What if there was no hang fire?

"WHO IS IT? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?!" 

Stan looks surprised, then his face falls. He waves. 

"... Stanley? Is that you?" Ford grabs him and shines a light in his eyes. 

Stan winces and tries to shove Ford off of him. 

"Apologies, I just had to make sure you weren't... nevermind. Come in, come in." 

Stan follows Ford into the shack, looking around judgementally as Ford paces. 

"Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?" 

Bemused, Stan shakes his head. 

"Good, good. I appreciate you coming so quickly. There's not much time. I've made huge mistakes, and I don't know who I can trust anymore." He turns the head of a skeleton to look away. Stan raises an eyebrow, perturbed. 

Stan steps forward to place a hand on Ford's shoulder, and his jaw works as he wants to say something... but even now, the words stay caught in his throat. Instead he just squeezes in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. 

Ford sighs. "Right, I... I should explain myself. Follow me. What I'm about to show you is... something you can't even imagine." 

Stan nods and gestures for Ford to lead on. 

They make their way downstairs. Ford is too caught up in his own head to notice how silent Stan is being. 

When they get to the portal, Stan is actually speechless. Ford takes this as his sign to begin a monologue. 

You and I both know how this next part goes, so I'll do you a favor and skip to the good part. The part where Ford tells him to sail away.

Stan's face falls, then turns angry. He wants to shout, to scream, but he still can't seem to get even a frustrated grunt past his lips. Instead, he just shoves the journal back at Ford. 

"What the- Stanley! Be reasonable! All I'm asking for is one single favor! I haven't asked you for anything in over ten years, the least you can do for me is make sure the world doesn't come to ruin!" 

Stan just shakes his head. In his fury, a single syllable forces its way out of him. 

"You-!"

And just like that, his jaw clamps down again. His hand finds its way to cover his mouth. He can't do it. No matter how angry and hurt he is, he's still too terrified. Too broken.

Ford doesn't catch Stan's inner turmoil. "I what? Go on then! What's the first thing you have to say to me in over a decade? After everything you did, after you ruined my life, what could you possibly have left to say to me?" 

Stan has so much to say. Too much. So much that he can't even make his voice work, just like he hasn't in over a year. It hurts too much. 

Ford waits, and when Stan doesn't say anything, scoffs bitterly. "Right. Of course not. That's what I thought. More the fool I was for thinking I still had one person left in the world I could trust." 

Stan stops at that. It hurts more than words can say. 

Ford turns back, a new pleading look in his eye. "If you truly won't help me, I... Stanley, I don't have any idea what I'll do. We have our resentments, but this is bigger than that. Bigger than either of us. This could destroy reality as we know it. I don't expect you to understand it, but I at least want you to..." 

Ford sighs again, rubbing his eyes furiously. He looks so tired. "Of course, I shouldn't have bothered. None of this means anything to you, does it? It never has. You only ever saw me as your ticket to success. That's why you still have nothing to say to me." His voice grows hardened, resentful. "You've always been a coward and a liar. I can't believe I was so desperate as to reach out to you. No matter how dire the circumstances, I should've known I could never trust-" 

Stan's fist connects with Ford's jaw. He folds like a house of cards. He struggles upright, surprised at Stan's seething expression. 

Stan breathes heavily. He's shaking. His jaw works, but he still can't make himself speak. Ford waits for him to say something, anything. 

Stan opens his mouth to speak, and he almost manages- an odd, squeaky, hoarse noise comes out of his throat. But that's all. So he just turns around and walks away. 

Ford watches him go, heart sinking into his stomach. He looks at the journal in his hands and wonders what he's going to do now. 

"Wait-" 

Stan stops dead. He didn't expect that. He turns back. 

Ford doesn't know how to ask this, but he has to. "... If you're leaving, just- at least take this with you." He holds out the journal. "I can't keep it. I- I can't be trusted with it. It's not safe here, not with me, not with anyone else." 

Stan actually considers it now. Ford seems so terrified and desperate. But is this really all Stan is good for? 

Ford swallows his pride just a little more. "... Please?" 

Stan is shocked. Neither of them ever say please. Pa always said that was for sissies- real men take what they want. And yet, here they are, and Ford is asking. 

It hurts to know this is all Stan means to him, but he can't find it in himself to say no. 

Stan takes the journal. 

Ford heaves a sigh of relief so potent he nearly topples over. "Thank you." 

Stan just nods. He doesn't know if he feels like leaving now, though. Ford seems fragile. It worries him. 

Ford doesn't catch it. "... Well. I suppose that's it then. You're... free to go." 

Stan just keeps staring at him. He looks awful. It's much harder to leave now that the anger has faded a bit. 

"... What?" 

Stan isn't sure what. He gestures with one hand at Ford. 

Ford just blinks. Utterly bemused. "I... um..." 

Stan rolls his eyes and repeats the gesture more emphatically. 

"... I don't... what are you doing?" 

Stan sighs and looks around. Luckily, he spies what he needs on a nearby desk. Ford watches, dumbstruck, as Stan retrieves a pen and notepad. Then when Stan is finished scribbling, the note is shoved in his face. 

You gonna be okay?

"... I... Stanley, what's going on?" 

Stan shakes the note. 

"Yes, I read it, I just- why are you- I don't understand-" Ford's breath catches. His eyes go wide and he lowers his voice. "Are we being listened to?" 

Stan's shoulders slump. He shakes his head and writes something else. 

Pretty sure I wasn't followed.

"Then- then what? Why are you..." It's Ford's turn to gesture vaguely at his twin. "This?"

Ouch. Ford probably didn't mean it that way, but still. 

Stan chews on the inside of his cheek. He doesn't want to reveal how broken he is now, but Ford just isn't getting it. He can't bring himself to look at Ford when he hands over the next note. 

Can't talk.

Ford stares at the message. It doesn't compute. "... I don't..." He tries to meet Stan's eyes. His gaze is avoided. "Why not?" 

Stan hesitates before writing again. 

Just can't.

"No, clearly you can. Or at least to a degree." Ford's eyes flicker over Stan's body. "Your mouth and layrnx still seem functional... No one is listening to us... Are you cursed somehow?" 

Stan almost laughs, except it's been even longer since he did that than it has since he's spoken. 

Something like that.

Ford's brow furrows. "That isn't an answer. Why can't you speak?" 

Stan underlines his earlier message. Just can't.

"No, you can," Ford insists. "You always could for as long as I can remember. It was harder to get you to shut up sometimes. Why have you decided to stop now? Is this a recent development?" 

Stan really wants to walk away now. But he knows Ford will just follow him. Not that recent. Didn't decide. Just can't. He underlines the last word several times. 

Ford looks even more frustrated when he reads that. "If if isn't voluntary, how is it that you're still capable of speech, in the mechanical sense? Is it... neurological somehow? What was it that F mentioned..." He rubs his eyes again, even rougher than before. Before Stan can write anything else, he snaps his fingers. "Expressive aphasia! It can be caused by a traumatic brain injury. You appear otherwise unaffected though. Have you experienced any extreme head trauma?" 

Stan shakes his head incredulously. Well, he's been clobbered a few times, but he always ended up fine afterwards. No stupider than he was before. 

"Are you sure? Because I can't think of anything else that would..." Ford slowly starts to piece something together. He looks cautiously at Stan. "Except..." 

Stan shifts uncomfortably. He shrugs, as if to say, What?

Ford just stares at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He swallows. "It's just that... the only other cause I can think of is psychological trauma." 

Stan snorts. He can't help it. He shrugs in a, well, what can you do? gesture. 

Ford looks horrified, the drama queen. "... Really?" 

Stan rolls his eyes, then gestures to himself. I mean, look at me. Then he gestures at Ford. You don't look too good yourself.

"I- no, I'm fine," Ford defends in a very-not-fine tone of voice. "And you- you're supposed to be... that doesn't make sense. None if this makes sense..." He rubs at his face almost violently, skewing his glasses. "Stupid brain, just work for a minute here..." 

On instinct, Stan steps forward to take his hands and stop him. Ford flinches back. They stare at each other for a moment. 

Stan raises an eyebrow. Fine, huh?

Ford sighs. "That... it's been some time since I've slept and I'm a little jumpy. Like I said, I've made... terrible mistakes." He shudders. 

Stan looks at him with new understanding. He crosses his arms and gestures for Ford to continue. 

He frowns darkly. "There is a being of unimaginable power that seeks to use me to bring about the end of the world." 

Stan doesn't even blink. Just waits for him to keep talking. 

He does. "He takes over my body when I sleep. I've been able to hold him off so far, but only barely. If he gets his hands on my journals, is able to activate the portal..." He puts his hands on Stan's shoulders. "Stanley, it would be the end of the world." 

Stan raises an eyebrow. Another note: He?

"Bi-" and this time it's Ford who clams up. He shakes his head. "It- it's not safe to invoke his name. What's important is that he is an entity with infinite knowledge and access to my mind and body at any time." His eyes are wide, afraid. "I was a fool to ever trust him." 

Stan softens. He understands that, at least. He writes: You got conned.

Ford considers that and nods gravely. "I suppose I did." Uncharacteristic shame colors him. "Hook, line, and sinker, as it were." 

Stan studies him for a moment. Then, determined, he writes: He gonna hurt you?

Ford is stunned at that, a little vulnerable. "That- that's not important." 

Stan shakes his head emphatically. Points at the note. 

"Probably, yes, but again, that's not-" 

Stan lifts a hand to stop him. Miraculously, he does. Stan thinks for a second, then writes: Not leaving.

Ford's face falls. "What? No, you can't stay here, I just told you-" 

While Ford was speaking, Stan finished another note, and he shoves it in Ford's face. 

You're my brother. And below it, pressed so hard into the paper it almost tears, Not leaving you.

Ford can only stare at the words. "But..." 

Stan cuts him off with another wave of his hand. This time he writes for much longer. Ford waits. 

You look half dead. Don't wanna lose you. Don't care if you don't wanna see me. You. Need. Help.

Ford can't think of anything to say to that. For once, all he can think is that maybe Stan is right. 

So, eventually, tentatively, shakily, he nods. "Okay," he croaks. "Okay. What do we do?" 

Stan offers a smile. Then he wrinkles his nose. Shower first. You stink.

Ford mirrors him. "Well, you don't exactly smell pleasant either." 

Tooshay. Upstairs?

"Not how it's spelled," Ford mutters. Still, he considers the words for a moment. Looks back. Looks at the journal in Stan's hands, then behind him at the elevator. 

"... Alright."