#i lost all the data and calculations i did for this

[wip]

A very very minor thing I have been curious about for a while, and I'm finally asking: why do you calculate queue posting times the way you do? For example, if I set my queue to post 3x a day, naively I would expect it to post every 8 hours. But in reality it posts every 6 hours with a 12 hour gap between days. Why complicate the math like that?

Answer: Hello @circumference-pie!

Buckle up y’all, it’s story time again!

First: nobody who works at Tumblr right now was a part of the work of planning the default queue implementation, which was more than ten years ago. So the full story behind “Why does it work that way?” has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time. All we can do is tell you how it works today and surmise some reasons why. The queue is actually a very clever system and part of how it works explains some of why it works the way it does. Also, there have been attempts to do what you ask—we still have “Queue 2.0” available in your Tumblr Labs settings, which tries to get closer to how you expect things to work.

Anyway! How the queue works today is not actually a queue in the traditional sense. There is no single list of posts that are in “your queue”. Instead, when you “Add to queue” after creating a post, we’re actually scheduling it to post at a future time, as if you had used the “Schedule post” option instead. We’re just calculating that time on your behalf when you use “Add to queue”, based on your settings, and how many other scheduled posts you have already. We use a secondary “index” model, called “ScheduledPost”, to keep track of posts you have scheduled on your blog. We do mark the ones that are a part of “your queue”, but the data model doesn’t keep one list of your “queue” per se.

You can see this in action on your blog, hiding in plain sight. If you add a bunch of posts to your queue, and then schedule a post for a specific future date, you’ll see both in your blog’s “queue” list, side by side. Because technically to us, they’re the same thing: queued posts are really just another kind of scheduled post, relying on the same always-running service to publish scheduled posts across all of Tumblr. Here’s a fun fact: we typically have about ~14.5 million future posts to publish from this list at any given time and are publishing hundreds of these scheduled posts every second.

So when you’re adding a new post to your queue, what we’re doing behind the scenes is starting at the beginning of your “day”, and creating time slots based on your queue settings. If a time slot is already filled, we move on to the next one. That’s why the default queue scheduler works how you describe—we’re trying to fill those “slots” based on the start of the day, rather than trying to divide the calendar day evenly. This just makes it much simpler for us to understand, scale, and predict when our “peaks” will be. At peak times, the publish-scheduled-posts service is publishing tens of thousands of posts in a manner of seconds. We did rewrite that post-publishing part of this architecture a few years ago to improve its efficiency and solve a lot of “lost post” bugs, but we didn’t change how “Add to queue” works.

However, the Queue 2.0 project available in Labs was an attempt to change the queue system to work as you expect—instead of starting at [beginning of day] and creating enough slots to fit [number of slots] every [number of hours], it tries to divide the calendar day into [number of slots] and fit the result back to the original algorithm’s mapping of the day. We never productionized this alternative approach, because it has a few bugs that some blogs hit in extreme cases, and we’ve never had time to fully fix them. It also can cause a bit of weirdness when time zones diverge, like with daylight savings time. Also, a lot of people prefer the default algorithm, and we haven’t thought of a nice way to transition everyone from one to the other. So for now, both options exist, and you can choose which algorithm for queue-slot-generating you want to use. We hope that makes sense! 

While complicated, it is a great example of a system built by engineers to make sense and be scalable and predictable. But sometimes these kinds of systems, while clever, aren’t very intuitive to understand without digging into how they work.

Thanks for your question, and keep ’em coming. 

[nezz-cringe-crib]

not not not normal about the machinery/technology themes in L's english musical lines it has me in a grip.

all the characters actually have such clear themes and motifs but i especially love how L's is so subtly crafted.

there's obviously "The Game Begins." very clear machinery themes. pixels and code and blahblahblag sad technology boy. BUT IT CONTINUES IN OTHER SONGS TOO!! WHICH IS SO NEAT. AND THE PLACES THEY CHOOSE TO PUT IT IS SO GOOD in fact here's a whole list of bits i can pinpoint:

Secrets And Lies: - "All of the data has been analyzed" - "What other data does he have to see?" - "The truth is hard to sort out"

The Way Things Are: - "The cold, hard truth / Can't shut it down... / You can't turn it off" - "I won't let who I used to be... / Get me out of sync" - "I'll turn into a different me / Not so cynical / Not so clinical" - "Frame by frame / I see this movie in black and white / Shot by shot / Minute by minute..."

The Way Things Are (Reprise): - "I win the game / Gotta calculate one last trick"

The Way It Ends: - "Go through the motions like the hands upon a clock" - "I'm like a software program caught inside an endless loop / Just bad code that keeps repeating" - "It's like I'm hitting all my marks, as if I'm acting in a play / So out of character, yet somehow not a shock" (THIS ONE I LOVE THIS ONE IM TALKING ABOUT LATER) - "My camera's cloudy lens now / Takes much darker pictures than before" - "See it flicker, hear it humming" - "The message that it sends now / Sounds exactly like a closing door"

i bring all of this up to not only point out all the little machinery bits bUT TO NOTE WHEN THE MACHINERY ISN'T PRESENT AND IS MOST PRESENT.

the only songs where we lose the theme of technology in L's lines is when he's with light. "Stalemate" and "Playing His Game" aren't on this list. L doesn't use many technological terms in those songs. the only ones that pop up are said by light (ex: "Does he see pixels, not dreams") and that's because it's about light trying to follow L's machine-like thinking.

in fact, "Stalemate" (i think, it's late and i don't wanna check all those songs again) is the first time L uses some kind of human analogy: "Just like two actors on a stage / Go through the motions that we both rehearse... / Eyeball to eyeball / We'll see who blinks first."

IT'S BECAUSE HE'S WITH LIGHT. LIGHT MAKES HIM HUMAN.

IN FACT IT MAKES HIM SO HUMAN THAT WHEN LIGHT KILLS HIM IT LIKE SENT HIM THROUGH FUCKING SHOCK. WHICH IS WHY "The Way It Ends" AND "The Game Begins" HAVE THE MOST MACHINE BASED TERMS.

we are introduced to him as a robot, and it is stripped from him when he meets the one case/person that makes him feel alive, and suddenly it all hits him like a truck when the one thing giving him that sliver of humanity is what kills him. that line-- "It's like I'm hitting all my marks, as if I'm acting in a play / So out of character, yet somehow not a shock"-- encapsulates it perfectly. L is used to hitting all his marks already, because he has been raised as a machine, but with light those marks have been different. he has not been hitting them out of code, he has been hitting them out of precise and willing action. he did it with the fire that sparked inside and kept him burning, not the cold hard gears he was raised on. but playing with fire means melting everything you once had. it's gone now. it is what he has always done but it is no longer him.

note the shift from "eyeball" to "camera lens." note the mix of personification with machinery in "hands upon a clock" and "flickering" to "humming."

L lost because he was too alive. L died because for a second he was human.

[woradat]

just wonder.. will you write for rodimus? 🥺 I mean, that jump-to-your-soul pic of him have to mean something right??

also do you take any req?

Done with your ex

SUMMARY – just an ego through the roof captain and his ex on the same ship, long trip together

PAIRING – rodimus x reader

NOTE – you take a hint huh. What are you, a government spy? I'm already working on him for a while now. And yes, I do a requests. You can see the rules/details in the pinned post. I just added+edit about few day ago

The loading ramp of the Lost Light hissed open like the universe itself was trying to be dramatic

Rodimus barely glanced up. He was in the middle of arguing with Swerve about whether installing retractable flame decals on the hull would count as 'atmospheric augmentation" or just "unnecessary and definitely going to kill us"

Then he saw movement out of the corner of his optic—and everything in his CPU short-circuited

There you were

Striding up the ramp like you owned it. Like you hadn’t ghosted out of his life with nothing but a pointed sentence and that half-smile that always meant checkmate. Like you hadn’t once told him—flatly, and with clinical precision—that loving him felt like "trying to put a fire out with gasoline"

And dammit if you didn’t look exactly the same. Polished. Poised. Primed for war and polite company. Elegant as ever. Calm as a sunset before a Category Five energon storm

You weren’t flash, never were—but you had that aura. That smooth, coiled presence like a vibroblade sheathed in silk. Oh the look—that faint, unreadable smile like you knew something he didn’t and were gracious enough to let him flounder in ignorance. That same neutral expression you used when pretending not to judge the tactical decisions of people clearly beneath your IQ range. That same stride that said “I’ve already calculated the probability of this going sideways and I brought snacks"

Rodimus froze, his spark dropped so hard it might’ve left a dent in his internals ‘No. Nope. Absolutely not!’

It couldn’t be you

Except, of course, it was. Because the universe loved poetic suffering and apparently it was his turn to monologue through one. He stared. You stared back. Unbothered. Professional. Radiating the exact same emotional energy as someone walking past their ex at a high-society gala—with better posture and zero regrets

Rodimus blinked so hard his optic lens recalibrates “What— what are you doing here?”

You didn’t even flinch. Just turned to him with a look that was one part serene and two parts smug, tilted your helm slightly. That little angle that always meant “I heard that. I’m just choosing violence later” Your voice, when it came, was like silk over sharpened steel

“Captain. How lovely to see you again”

“You’ve got to be—this is—no. Nope. Absolutely not”

Ultra Magnus appeared like a summoned ghost behind you, arms crossed, expression stiffer than a rusted gear “As I explained in my three prior reports, they’ve been appointed to the crew as strategic analyst”

Rodimus blinked "Three reports?"

“High-level pattern recognition. Crisis forecasting, multi-factional battle simulations, inter-faction negotiation” Magnus went on, tone flatter than the C.I.C. floor “They’ve been correct approximately 91.3% of the time. Statistically, that qualifies them as one of the best. They will be a valuable addition”

You gave a modest nod. Like someone who totally didn’t memorize those numbers already “Besides” you added smoothly

“I’m here for work. Nothing more. You can unclench now, Captain”

Rodimus looked like someone had just served him a steaming mug of his own poor life choices “Right. Work. Of course. Just work. Nothing else weird about this at all. Nope. Totally chill"

You stepped closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that your electromagnetic field skimmed his. Cool, clean, unreadable. Like an encrypted data packet wrapped in charm and sarcasm

“You always did have trouble being chill” you murmured “Still trying to solve everything by flying straight into it?”

“But don’t worry, captain. I’m not here to relive the past”

Rodimus sputtered. Behind him, Swerve audibly choked on a laugh “Oh, Primus, it is the ex. The one who called him ‘reckless with delusions of grandeur' I thought that was a metaphor”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. Just tilted your helm, optics flicked to him—neutral. But your smirk said “I win”

And with that, you turned and start walking down the hall—measured, composed, calculating—like a battlefield was unfolding beneath your pedes and you’d already chosen where all the pieces would fall – Rodimus stared after you like he’d just watched his worst mistake reappear in haute couture and get a standing ovation, as if to twist the energon dagger in his spark just a little further, you said—without turning back

“And for the record… I liked you better before you started trying to be respectable

Rodimus stood frozen, expression somewhere between awe, horror, and very mild arousal

“This is fine” he said out loud “This is great.. This is the best worst day I’ve ever had”

“Wanna talk about it?” Swerve offered

“Wanna be spaced through an airlock?”

“You’ve been out here for twenty minutes” Drift said, suddenly beside him. Rodimus jumped like he’d been caught digging through a black ops file “I’m not spying..!” “Sure” Drift glanced pointedly at the window “Just… monitoring morale with your face pressed against the glass?” Rodimus shoved a blank datapad into his hands "I’m checking their reassignment logs! That’s normal. Curiosity is normal” "You could just ask” “I can’t just ask! What if they think I still care?” “Rodimus, you’re literally stalking them through a wall" Rodimus made a noise somewhere between static and a dying turbo-ratchet “Okay, fine. Then you ask”

“Me?” “Yeah. You’ve got that wise monk aura. People think your invasive questions are… philosophical" Drift gave him a look so dry it might’ve been illegal in five star systems “If they throw something at me” he said, turning to leave “I’m blaming you”

Rodimus was not asking

He was simply conducting a targeted data acquisition exercise. Command-level intel. Tactical morale assessment. Strategic background audit on one of his newest officers. Perfectly normal captain things. Not weird. Not personal. Absolutely not fueled by the gnawing ache of unresolved emotional abandonment

“So” he began, too casually, sidling up to the corner of Swerve’s bar where Drift was trying to enjoy a moment of monk-like silence and absolutely not entertain any of Rodimus’s mid-spark crises “hypothetically—if someone used to date someone, and that someone got assigned to their ship without, say, any warning whatsoever, that would be… strange, right?”

“Strange. Uncomfortable. Emotionally volatile” Drift didn’t even look up from his cup “So yes. Very you”

Rodimus scoffed. Loudly. Overcompensating “This isn’t about me”

“Of course not” Drift said blandly “We’re speaking in totally neutral hypotheticals about your insanely sharp, tactically brilliant, emotionally impenetrable ex who now occupies a front-row seat in every strategy meeting like an elegantly silent death sentence”

Rodimus’s scowl could have curdled energon “They’re not that elegant”

“They once ended a meeting by folding a datachip in half. With one hand. While smiling”

Rodimus muttered something under his breath about “intimidation tactics” and “showoffs”. Drift, clearly bored of the deflection game, pulled up a datapad with a flick of the wrist—graceful, like a librarian about to ruin your life “Alright. Let’s see what your not at all relevant ex has been up to post-breakup…”

Rodimus leaned in. But not like he cared. More like he was... intellectually engaged. Professionally intrigued. Possibly a little nauseous

“They worked under Prowl"

“PROWL?! You mean—rules incarnate? Mister ‘Let’s Commit War Crimes But Quietly’ !?”

“The one and only” Drift confirmed smoothly “High-level strategy corps. Joint command ops. Dozens of successful missions. Commendations for tactical elegance, command precision—”

“Okay, okay, you can stop reading their résumé, this isn’t a talent show” Rodimus began to pace, movements sharp and erratic like a hovercraft trying to salsa “They worked with me and said I was reckless, but then they go partner up with Prowl? That sentient flowchart? Seriously?”

Drift was already sipping again “Maybe they like the quiet, measured type now. The kind who doesn’t detonate their own escape pod just to spell ‘hello’ in midair”

“That happened one time”

“And it was somehow still in the mission report”

Rodimus groaned into his hands. He imagined you and Prowl standing next to each other, talking shop, making flawless tactical adjustments while not even blinking at each other — It was horrible. It was clinical. It was worse than anything he could’ve imagined

“What else?” he asked, in the voice of someone about to regret every answer

Drift’s optics flicked “They turned down a permanent command position. Said they wanted a ‘change of pace' ”

“—So… they chose this ship. My ship”

“Seems that way”

“Knowing I was the captain”

“Still seems that way”

Rodimus blinked. Then frowned. Then blinked again, slower. Like it would change the data “So what you’re telling me is: either they’ve secretly forgiven me and came to rekindle the flame—”

“Highly unlikely”

“—or they came here to watch me fail up close, with popcorn in hand and a tactical spreadsheet”

“That one sounds more plausible”

Rodimus placed both hands dramatically on the bartop and huffed. Dramatically. Theatrically. The only way he could before he declared, straightening up “I’m fine.. I’m a professional. This is my ship. I am not threatened by my ex working with a glorified calculator"

...

..

“…Do you think they ever kissed?”

“Please go to therapy”

—

The outpost was still burning behind you

Fires licked at twisted steel frames and shattered windowpanes, the heat rippling off slagged ground like a second atmosphere. The smoke stung your optics, even with the filters on, but you didn’t blink. Hot Rod stood a few paces away, armor scorched and mouth set in that stubborn line that always came right before he said something reckless. You didn’t give him the chance

“What were you thinking?” Your voice was level. Too level. The kind of calm that meant someone was furious. Hot Rod flinched. Not visibly—but you knew the twitch at the corner of his mouth, the flicker in his EM field when he was caught “I saved them”

He said “I had to”

“You disobeyed a coordinated strategy, blew through our cover, and almost got yourself killed—again”

He looked at you now. Really looked. Heat still clung to him like a second skin, optics burning, frame vibrating with leftover adrenaline. And somewhere underneath all that fire was a flicker of… confusion. As if he still didn’t understand why you weren’t proud of him

“But it worked”

“That’s not the point”

You turned to face him fully, field tightening, anger settling into your shoulders like weight “You’re not a one-mech army, Hot Rod. You’re not invincible. You can’t keep throwing yourself into every explosion and expecting everyone else to clean up after you”

He stepped forward, hands half-raised “I did it to protect other”

“No. You did it because you wanted to be seen protecting other”

There it was. The silence after a sharp cut. His optics widened, and for a moment you saw it, that bare, wounded flicker of a spark hit too close to the truth. But he covered it with bravado—because that’s what he did. That’s what he always did “So that’s it? You think I’m just some attention seeking show off?”

“I think you’re brave. I think you’re passionate. I think you’ll make a great hero one day–”

“..But I also think you’ll never learn how to lead, if you can’t learn how to listen” That hit deeper than the last shot he’d taken in the field

He turned away, jaw locked, fists clenched “So what, then?” he said, voice tight

“You’re walking away? Just like that?”

You hesitated—but only for a moment “I don’t want to. But I can’t spend my life patching up the aftermath of every decision you make on impulse –You always dive first and ask questions later. And I.. I want to build something that lasts. Not chase something that burns” you admitted softly

The silence between you was long and cruel —without another word—you stepped back. Hot Rod didn’t stop you. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what hurt the most

After the breakup with Hot Rod, you took a high-ranking strategic position under Prowl—not romantically, but deeply professionally and intellectually tense

Prowl respected your mindset but hated your moral flexibility and tendency to “go rogue if the math is prettier that way” You – in turn, found Prowl’s rigid morality fascinating and enjoyed poking holes in his logic — Their relationship was legendary among staff—half strategy meetings, half philosophy battles. You both made an unstoppable duo on paper. But behind closed doors?

“That is not regulation protocol”

“Neither is surviving half the war. I’ll take my odds”

Eventually, you left when the war ended, saying something like: “If I stay any longer, I’ll either become you or throw you out an airlock. Neither’s ideal”

The medbay lights flickered once before steadying again. Outside, the sky over the outpost glowed red with the aftermath of an explosion. You stood at the outside, arms crossed, helm tilted just enough to convey “I’m not mad, but I’m seconds away from strangling you with my own field”

The door hissed open with a battered flair, and there he was—Hot Rod in all his half-scorched, grinning, chaos-stained glory. One arm was covered in carbon scoring. His left shoulder was leaking a thin trickle of energon. There was what looked like a thruster casing lodged in his hip plate

And he was still smiling. Of course he was

“You should’ve seen it” Hot Rod said, voice bouncing with adrenaline “I looped around the ridge, came in low—boom! Took out the flank in one go. Didn’t even need backup”

You didn’t look up from your datapad “You told me you’d follow the plan”

“Technically, I did. For the first ten seconds”

“And after that?”

“...It got boring?”

You set the datapad down. Slowly

Hot Rod’s grin twitched “It worked, didn’t it?” he said, stepping closer “Mission success. I’m standing. The ridge is rubble. Everyone’s cheering”

“You nearly didn’t come back”

You stared at him—really stared. All that molten gold, still burning in his optics. His armor still warm from the blast. That stupid, crooked grin he wore like a shield

“You know I hate improvising. Not because it’s reckless. But because it’s you. You gamble like your life isn’t worth anything”

“Hey, come on—”

“Rod”

That landed. His grin faltered for real now

“I’m serious. Every time you run off-script, it’s like you’re testing fate. And I’m the one stuck writing the damage report” You stepped closer, thumb brushing a burn mark near his jaw. The scorch made your spark ache a little. He leaned into your touch without thinking. Like a reflex. Like your hand on his face was the only real thing in the place

“One of these days” you murmured “you’ll pull that stunt and I won’t be there to drag your aft out”

“That’s not true” he said softly

“No?”

“You’d come back for me. Always”

You wanted to argue. But you couldn’t. Not really. Because even now—even furious, even worn out—you were here. And when he leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth his head dipped low down to your jaw, kissing soft like apology, you let him. His hands found your waist. Familiar. Easy. A rhythm you both still remembered

“You love it when I push my luck” he said into your helm

“I love you, Roddy. That doesn’t mean I love watching you destroy yourself”

That hit harder than a mine to the chest. He didn’t pull away. Just held you tighter. You sighed, pressing your faceplate against his shoulder. He still smelled faintly like ozone and energon. Still radiated that wild, sun-hot energy that made you both love and fear him

“Next time” you said into the space between you “you disobey a field order, I’m duct-taping you to Ultra Magnus”

“...Kinky”

You laughed. Just a little. Couldn’t help it “Don’t make me regret loving you”

There was a long silence. No snappy comeback. No flirt. Just a stillness that made your spark ache. His arms tightened around you and for one fleeting, fragile moment—you let yourself believe this would last

—

You are alone in the quiet of the hallway. Staring at the window, the stars wheeling slowly past beyond the glass. It wasn't dramatic solitude—you weren't hiding. Just… decompressing. That was all. Your optics drifted to your own reflection—faint, transparent, caught in the black

And for some damn reason, his voice echoed there instead

“You'd come back for me. Always"

Primus

You let your head fall back with a soft thunk against the reinforced wall. He wasn't wrong

You had come back. Not for him—never that, never openly. But… well. You hadn't exactly gone out of your way to avoid the Lost Light, either. And when Magnus had offered the post? You could've said no. You didn't and now here you were. Sharing meetings. Sharing air. Sharing old ghosts

Your fingers tapped against your datapad in a slow, guilty rhythm

“Stupid charming idiot with fire in his optics and no sense of self-preservation” you muttered under your breath. You knew that smile he gave you in the last meeting. Knew it like a habit you never quite kicked and the worst part? That stupid little ember in your spark still glowed when he looked your way

“Okay. Fine. He was right” You let out a small, strangled sound through your vents

Not quite a groan. Not quite a sigh. Just the noise of someone on the edge of "Why am I like this?" and "I could still jump out the airlock and make it look like strategy” You pressed your head lightly against the cool surface of the wall. Just for a second. Just enough to feel the metal and imagine it was hitting you back. No matter how reckless he was. No matter how much he grinned like the universe owed him forgiveness. No matter how much it still ached when you looked at him and remembered the way things used to be. You stood upright again with a snap of your shoulders and a squint of righteous self-annoyance

“Next time if he opens that mouth" you mumbled “I’m going to verbally gut him. Real clean. Sharp. Professional. Something with bite, doubling the sarcasm. Go for the ego. Aim for the fins. That’ll shut him up" You narrowed your optics at your reflection—your own face looking smug in the glass “He gets one more pass. After that, I’m escalating. He’s going to wish I never came back”

“Stars, I hope he does that thing with his optics again though…” and maybe—maybe—if you kept throwing enough barbs, you could stop remembering how it felt when he held you like that and made you believe the fire wouldn’t burn

You buried your face in your hand

“..I need therapy"

[amphibiahawks321]

M!Reader : Don't worry! Let's try the way we practice! And remember there's no need to rush...

[Coral glasses nod, sweats already dripping from her forehead–Her and Y/N's hand came in contact]

[Coral interlock her hand–Y/N doing the same, her hand starts shaking]

Coral glasses : This... This Protocol means the intimacy is reaching its successful goal, R-Right?

M!Reader : Correct! Now, would you want me to anni the next step? Or do you want to do it?

[Coral staring at the ground for a moment–Lost in her thought for a bit]

M!Reader : Chuckles... Remember, no need to rush, we can wait if–

[Coral successfully placing her other hand onto Y/N's cheek]

.....

[Y/N thought 💭]

Aww!! God, how can someone be so adorable and is a Dorking mess at the same time... ^v^

[Coral glasses thought 💭]

Oh no... Protocol overload—hand to cheek interaction was not in the predicted comfort range, RETREAT?! No—wait! Retreat is failure! But... His skin is so soft—what is this texture?? IS THIS LOVE OR A NEW FORM OF SKIN-BASED ANXIETY?!—

Coral glasses : I-I believe... the next step is... facial proximity? 6.4 centimeters? With optional emotional vulnerability?

M!Reader : Pftt–Chuckles... You don’t need to calculate it, Coral, Just... whatever feels right for you!

Coral glasses : I-I see… So… intuitive response over predetermined data set…

M!Reader : Exactly! And right now, what is your intuitive response telling you to do next?

Coral glasses : I... I believe the next logical course of action would be...

[She leans in, just a twitch forward, Then stops, Her entire face overheating(like an overclocked computer)]

Coral Glasses : I… I must now initiate Lip-Based Contact Confirmation—

M!Reader : Laughs softly... You can just say kiss, Coral

Coral Glasses : I... I was going to... but then the word got stuck in my throat like a corrupted file...

....

[She closes the gap slowly nervous, jittery, but determined–Their lips meet in a fleeting kiss, A paper coming out of head, saying : "Successful data...#2"]

[Coral pulls back, dazed]

M!Reader : ...it's still a surprise how soft your lips are!

Coral glasses : W-...Was that a successful kiss?

M!Reader : absolutely!

Coral glasses : .....

M!Reader : Chuckles... See! You did better when we did our First kiss–Boy you passed out for like—

[Y/N staring Infront of him — seeing Coral's face in complete blush, sweating all over... And her body is trembling and is literally about to shut down to the ground–

M!Reader : W-Woa-WOAH! WOAH!!

[sweetcherrybmb]

Toto Wolff with wife grumpy!reader because she had too much work to do and everyone was pressuring her. (she's an accountant) With both her boys (Toto and their son, Jack) everything is better. Fluff and maybe a little suggestive. Thanks!! :))

a/n: ooooh, i like the concept, but it took me a little while to figure out how to write it tho... she did end up being more on the overwhelmed and frustrated side, rather than grumpy, but i hope you'll enjoy!! :)

also i pulled out my german knowledge for this one and confirmed it with my translator (mom), so i hope no germans or austrians get mad at me ~~~///(^v^)\\\~~~

(FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!!)

NUMBERS AND COMFORT // TW \\ one-shot

pairing: toto wolff x grumpy!wife!reader

description: based on the request above!

word count: 1320 words

warnings: none, a little suggestive (pls tell me if i need to add something)

Papers on paper on papers... You could barely see over the copious amounts of documents littering your desk. Monthly spending records, receipts, bank statements... as well as all the other things. That usually meant you would be busy and occupied, something that you greatly welcomed at your job, but today seemed unusually overwhelming.

It seemed that today, all things that could go wrong... went wrong. One of your colleagues lost two crucial documents from the beginning of the month, setting your monthly report back at least two days. The bank also seemed to have lost those same documents as they couldn't find any record of there ever being transactions that time of month.

Your boss decided that today of all days, he will come in to bother you about the same report you didn't have all the documents for, as well as dumping some more work on your back, because... why not.

Oh! And let's not forget that the paperwork that needed to be done by your colleague for all of the salaries to arrive on time was stalled because she forgot to do it before going on vacation, setting payday a week back and adding even more paperwork to the ever-growing pile on your desk.

Your head fell into your hands, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Your third cup of coffee sat empty next to your notebook. With shaky hands, you lifted your phone from the small side table that it usually sat at, having not checked in on it in hours.

' 15 missed calls from ˝SCHATZI˝ '

You sighed again, looking at the screen. The notification stung your eyes, not only by its brightness but its contents. He was probably worried, excessively so.

I looked around the office, seeing that the pile dwindled slightly, having finished calculating the pay first. The report was missing the data from the first two weeks. But, you stood up, put on your coat, and grabbed your bag. Without a word, you left the company building and made your way towards your car.

Sitting down and starting the car felt weird, as if you weren't doing it by your own will. The ride home was silent, having turned off the radio the moment it started playing. Tears welled up in your eyes, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to you.

Parking the car in your driveway, you quickly got out and went to the door. You searched for your keys, but to no avail. A pair of footsteps quickly approached the door and your husband's face soon appeared in the doorway.

You pushed past him and quickly pulled off your heels and coat, dropping them on the floor. You could feel his eyes following you as you moved to the kitchen.

He was worried. It was evident in the way he looked at you and immediately followed after you. He saw you at the kitchen counter, head in hands, sighing and rubbing your temples.

You both heard the quick patter of feet on the tiles of your home, knowing fully well who it was.

˝Is mutti back?˝ Jack's small voice asked from the door into the kitchen. When he saw you, his face immediately lit up. ˝MAMA!˝ he ran to you, hugging you and you groaned. You loved your son, but the force of him slamming into you and the already existing headache made you nauseous. He started rambling and you saw from the corner of your eye, Toto shaking his head.

˝Jackie, please... be a little quieter...˝ you said, but he didn't seem to hear, continuing his rant. ˝Jack...˝ you said again, but once again he continued. Your were getting more and more frustrated by the second, something Toto picked up on rather quickly. He moved closer to the two of you, pulling Jack away slightly and lifting him up to sit on the counter.

˝Ok, Jack, das reicht, mutti hat Kopfschmerzen und hatte einen sehr harten Arbeitstag. Wie wäre es, wenn du ihr einen kleinen Kuss gibst und sie ruhen lässt, hm? Du kannst ihr später von deinem Tag erzählen. (Ok, Jack, that's enough, mom has a headache and has had a very hard day at work. How about you give her a little kiss and let her rest, hm? You can tell her about your day later.)˝ Toto told him and he nodded, stretching his arms towards you. You moved closer and Jack took your face in his small hands, giving you a kiss on the forehead. You giggled and kissed his cheek back and the moment you put him down on the ground, he scurried off to play.

You turned to Toto and wrapped your arms around his neck, placing your face on his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head.

˝Thank you...˝ you mumbled, tired and in pain. He smiled down at you, pulling away slightly.

˝There is nothing to thank me for. How about you go shower and change, I'll make something to eat. Hm?˝he asked and you smiled, tears welling up in your eyes. ˝What are the tears for, hm, shatzi (honey)? What's wrong?˝ he moved away some hair from your face, gently wiping the tears away.

˝It's just... too much. The work and the incompetent people I work with... UGH! They are all so insufferable!˝ you groan and bury your face in his chest.

˝It'll pass, meine liebe (my love), now go and get ready for dinner.˝ he said with a final kiss to your forehead and a light smack to your butt as you left, making you giggle. As he prepared dinner, you showered and changed, already feeling better.

You dropped by Jack's room, seeing him playing on the floor.

˝Jackie, coming down for dinner?˝ he lifted his head and nodded, starting to pick up his toys. ˝Leave the cleaning up for later, come now.˝ you open your arms and he runs into them, giggling. You lift him up and go downstairs.

In the kitchen, you're welcomed by a sight. Toto with your small, strawberry print apron cooking something that smelled divine, your handwritten cookbook opened in front of him. He heard you and Jack giggle and turned around.

˝What's so funny, eh?˝ he asks, putting his hands on his hips, which only makes you and jack giggle even more. You set your son down and turn him towards you.

˝Go and turn on the tv and find something to watch, I'm gonna stay and help dad with dinner.˝ with a small 'ok' he ran of to the living room. ˝You look cute in that apron, where did you find it?˝ you giggle, smoothing it down on his chest, resting your hands there.

˝In better spirits, I see?˝ he asks and you nod, hugging him. ˝Go and set the table, I'll be done here soon.˝ he pushes you back and you smile.

Now that everyone was gathered at the table and eating, you finally felt at peace. No annoying coworkers, no piles of paperwork. Just you, your son and husband, and a relatively good dinner save the few burnt pieces of onion.

After dinner, you all lay on the sofa, watching something on the tv. Jack lay on Toto's left, almost asleep, and you on his right. Toto's hand was on your hip, tracing small circles in your exposed skin. Neither of you paid any attention to the tv, stealing kisses from each other. His hand slowly moved higher, his kisses getting more passionate.

˝Toto...˝ you whined as his hand moved lower to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

˝What, schatzi?˝he whispered into the kiss.

˝Not here...˝ you whispered back.

˝Hmm... I'll put Jack to bed...˝ he rose to his feet, picking up your son along with him, and you followed suit. ˝And you get ready in the bedroom...˝ he said as he pulled you in for another passionate kiss, squeezing your ass harder. As you kissed, all that was heard was a low 'eeewww' from Jack.

You quietly laughed and made your way to the bedroom, sending one last wink in Toto's direction.

TAGS

@yllomhej @walldemons @shelbyteller @reidsworld @pear-1206

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if anyone else wants to be added, DM me or enter your username in the google form pinned on my blog!

[ghostlynightpanda]

I just got this idea in my head!!

It’s a Narumi Gen x GN! Reader

Let’s just pretend the fight against Kaiju No 9 was done. Could you write where a Narumi is recovering from serious injuries in a hospital after pushing his retinas beyond their own limits? He’s dealing with the possibility of permanent damage that could possibly make him blind forever, and how he’s struggling with the emotional weight of vulnerability and uncertainty. As he reflects on what he’s lost, someone (as in reader) close to him visits—someone whose quiet presence brings him unexpected comfort.

Something like that!! Use your imagination :D

Through the Darkness

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! I’m currently in the middle of exam preparations and working on my master’s thesis. Also, I haven’t read the Kaiju No. 8 manga, so I only know Narumi from the end of the first season. All the information about the fight against Kaiju No. 9 and his equipment comes from various internet sources, so I’m not entirely sure everything is 100% accurate—but I did my best! I still hope you enjoy it!

synopsis: After a devastating battle leaves Gen Narumi possibly blind and grappling with the loss of his identity, your quiet, unwavering presence becomes his anchor—reminding him that even in the dark, he hasn’t lost everything. As he struggles through recovery, he finds strength not in what he sees, but in knowing you’re still by his side.

content/warnings: Narumi Gen x reader, fluff & angst, -3.194 words

The hospital room reeked of antiseptic and stillness.

Gen Narumi lay motionless on the stiff mattress, both eyes wrapped in layered bandages. Beneath them, his retinas throbbed like raw nerves, scorched by his own weapon—RT-0001, the tool that had made him a legend and might now make him obsolete.

He hadn’t spoken much since waking. Not to the doctors. Not to Kikoru, who’d stopped by twice before he asked her not to come again. And definitely not to Kafka.

Not until he knew if it was permanent.

"You’ve suffered catastrophic retinal damage,” one medic had told him, carefully, clinically. “There may be neural interface degradation... We can't promise a full recovery.”

He’d nodded. He always nodded. That was what you did when your career, your future, and the thing that made you you might have just been ripped away—and the only thing left to hold onto was dignity.

But now, alone in the dark, Narumi felt it crawling up his spine: fear.

Not of death. He'd made peace with that years ago.

But uselessness? Helplessness? The idea that he might never fight again?

That was worse.

He wasn’t dead. But something in him had died.

The memories came in flashes—bright, sharp, painful.

Kaiju No. 9 had evolved past any predictable form, shedding old limits like skin. Its clone, Beta, had already pushed Narumi hard. But the final form—when No. 9 fused with other Kaiju—was monstrous. Intelligent. Calculated.

Even then, Narumi might’ve had a shot.

But not without pushing the RT-0001 to its edge.

“RT-0001 synchronization at 92%—WARNING: retinal strain at 500% threshold.”

“Do it anyway,” he’d hissed. “Give me everything.”

And it did.

His vision fractured into layered sight: X-ray, infrared, panoramic, biological markers—Kaiju No. 9’s structural weaknesses blooming before him like petals under a microscope.

Then foresight kicked in. Movements unfolding before they happened. Counters appearing like ghosts in the corner of his vision. Data screamed across his HUD. Weak points lit like fireworks.

For one perfect, blistering moment, Gen Narumi was unstoppable.

He danced through the battlefield with brutal elegance, anticipating No. 9’s every morph, feint, and regeneration cycle. Even the creature’s reactive evolution couldn’t keep up. Narumi was five steps ahead—and closing fast.

Slash. Dodge. Grapple. Break. His attacks were no longer guesses. They were conclusions.

Until he saw the path to victory. The final strike.

And he took it—knowing full well it would cost him.

The moment his blade pierced the Kaiju’s core, a shockwave of energy pulsed outward. A retinal backlash unlike anything he'd felt before—a burn behind the eyes, white-hot and final.

Then: Nothing.

No colors. No shapes. No vision.

Just black.

He stirred in the hospital bed now, the phantom memory of the afterimage still seared into his brain. The hiss of a vent, the tick of the wall monitor, his own heartbeat against the silence. They were the only companions he had.

What am I without my eyes? What good is foresight if you can't even see what's in front of you?

He clenched his fists beneath the blanket.

He'd spent years becoming the sharpest edge in the Defense Force. The weapon built from Kaiju No. 1's corpse. The man who turned vision into victory. And now—

Now he might never open his eyes again and see a damn thing.

They hadn't said it outright, but he knew. He could hear it in their voices.

They didn't know if he'd ever return to the battlefield. If he'd ever be... useful again.

And that was the part that terrified him most.

There were no windows in this part of the medical wing. Narumi didn’t need to ask. He could tell by the way the air felt—stagnant, heavy, isolated. High-security, high-priority. Far away from the others.

He didn’t want to be seen like this anyway.

There was a time he’d thrived under attention. People watching him, counting on him, looking to him as the savior with perfect eyes and unshakable swagger. He’d been sharp, untouchable, the guy who always had a plan and saw ten moves ahead. The kind of man who made arrogance feel earned.

But now—

Now the silence left too much space for thoughts he didn’t want.

What if this is it? What if the mission, the weapons, the precision—it all ended on that battlefield?

He kept hearing it again. That last alarm before his sight shut off completely.

“Neural interface overload imminent. Retinal burnout irreversible.”

He should have stopped. Should have retreated. Should have lived to fight another day.

But there had not been another day to spare.

So he made the call—and now he was here. Not a hero. Not a weapon.

Just a man in a bed. Blind. Alone. Breaking quietly behind bandages and silence.

He didn’t notice the door open.

Didn’t hear your footsteps at first. You moved gently, like someone who wasn’t sure they were welcome.

He only knew someone was there when the air shifted—different from the sterile chill of the hospital. It was warmer. Familiar in a way that made something in his chest tighten without warning.

"...You gonna stand there or say something?"

His voice came out rougher than he meant, low and tired. He grimaced slightly, not because of pain—but because it had been a long time since he’d spoken like a person, not a patient.

There was a beat of silence. Then your voice—soft, hesitant.

“I didn’t know if you wanted visitors.”

He exhaled slowly, pressing the back of his head into the pillow. “I don’t.”

Another pause. You didn’t leave.

He didn’t ask you to.

You didn’t come rushing in with flowers or bright words. No exaggerated sympathy, no sidelong glances at the bandages, no awkward filler talk.

Just... presence.

You walked over and sat in the chair beside his bed, the legs squeaking slightly against the linoleum. Then nothing.

Not a word.

Narumi wasn’t sure what unnerved him more—your quiet or how strangely comforting it was.

He’d expected pity. Guilt. The same haunted looks the squad had given him before he told them to stop visiting. But you just sat there. Like it was normal. Like he wasn’t falling apart inch by inch.

He turned his head slightly toward you, still seeing nothing. Just the dark.

"...I can’t see you."

“I know.”

“They said it might be forever.”

“I know that too.”

That cracked something in him. Not because of what you said—but because you didn’t flinch saying it. You didn’t sugarcoat it. You didn’t pretend he was going to be fine.

No one else had done that.

He let out a long breath and finally let the mask slip.

“I burned out the RT-0001,” he muttered, voice low. “Everything I had—the foresight, the readings, the vision that let me track the Kaiju—it’s gone. I don’t know who the hell I’m supposed to be without it.”

His fists clenched the blanket.

“I was always the guy who saw it coming. Who saved people because I could see what no one else could. And now?” His voice cracked—not loud, but brittle. “Now I can’t even see my own damn hands.”

You were quiet for a moment.

Then, slowly, you reached out. Not grabbing him. Not forcing anything. Just your fingers resting lightly near his—close enough he could feel your warmth.

And in that small touch, something grounded him.

You weren’t trying to fix him. You weren’t offering hope he didn’t believe in. You were just here.

That scared him more than anything. Because it felt like something he didn’t deserve—but needed more than he could admit.

“I don’t care about what you’ve lost,” you said quietly, and your voice didn’t tremble. “You’re still Narumi. And you’re still here.”

He didn’t respond.

But he didn’t pull away.

Time passed differently in the dark.

Narumi didn’t know how long you’d sat there with him—minutes, maybe hours. But for once, the silence didn’t stretch like a punishment. It settled around him like a blanket, not a coffin. He wasn't used to quiet meaning safety.

Your hand stayed close to his. Not holding—just there. A quiet offer. A tether. Something real.

For a long time, he said nothing. He didn’t know how to talk about what he was feeling. He wasn’t sure there was a word for it—the way it hollowed him out from the inside, like the burn left behind by the RT-0001.

And yet... it was your presence that gave him the space to finally try.

“I used to think I couldn’t lose,” he murmured eventually. “Not just in battle. In anything. Like... if I could see every possibility, then I could control the outcome. Never make a mistake.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t move either.

He went on.

“And now? I can’t even see where the damn bed ends. Can't tell if it's night or day. Can't even tell if I'm facing the right direction when I talk to people.”

His voice turned bitter. “What kind of commander is that?”

A long pause.

Then: “One who’s still here.”

You didn’t flinch when he scoffed. “Still here doesn’t mean anything if I can’t fight.”

“It means everything if you’re still living.”

He swallowed hard. That shouldn't have hit the way it did, but it cracked something loose inside his chest.

Living. He hadn't thought about it like that.

Since waking up, every thought had been about what he’d lost. Every hour had been measured by what he couldn’t do anymore.

But now, with your hand beside his and your voice anchoring him, he realized:

He was still here. Still breathing. Still Gen Narumi.

Wounded? Yes. Shaken? Absolutely.

But not gone.

Not yet.

“You always like this?” he asked after a while, and there was a ghost of a grin tugging at his mouth. “Quiet, I mean.”

You shrugged. “You never seemed like the type who needed noise.”

That made him actually laugh—short, rough, real. “You clearly don’t know how much I talk to myself when I game.”

“I’ve heard. You narrate your killstreaks.”

“Damn right I do.”

It was the first time since the battle that something like joy had crept into his voice. Faint and fleeting. But there.

He turned his head toward you, blind eyes searching instinctively. “You know what pisses me off most?”

“What?”

“I finally beat that bastard. I won. And it still feels like I lost.”

You were quiet for a second. Then you said something he hadn’t expected. “You didn’t lose. You paid a price. That’s different.”

The words landed hard.

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Something in his throat tightened.

A moment later, your fingers finally closed around his.

Not out of pity. Not to comfort a fallen hero.

Just... to be there.

And Narumi, who’d never needed anyone before, didn’t pull away. Didn’t joke. Didn’t deflect. He just let you hold his hand in the dark.

And for the first time since everything had gone black, he didn’t feel like he was falling.

Eventually, you had to go.

There were no dramatic goodbyes. No promises or reassurances. Just a soft rustle as you stood, a quiet murmur of his name, and then the soft click of the door closing behind you.

Narumi hated how much he missed your presence the second it was gone.

But the strangest part? You came back.

The next morning.

And then that night. Again.

And again after that.

No questions. No explanations. Just you—slipping into the room like you belonged there. Always quiet. Always steady. Sometimes with the scent of fresh coffee on your clothes, sometimes damp from the rain. You brought the outside world with you, but never shoved it into his face. Never forced him to engage.

You sat beside his bed, your chair always in the same place, close enough for him to know you were there. Sometimes you read. Sometimes you just closed your eyes and rested. Sometimes, if he seemed open to it, you told him about your day.

Nothing grand. Just life.

A trainee screwing up paperwork. A Kaiju alert that turned out to be a false alarm. Kikoru’s new obsession with protein bars. Kafka overworking himself again. The little things that made up the world he could no longer see.

He listened.

Sometimes he asked questions. Sometimes he didn’t. But he always listened.

The days bled together.

He started noticing when you were five minutes late. He’d never say anything, but the space beside him would feel too quiet, the world too heavy.

And then you'd arrive, and everything would shift.

He didn’t know what to call it. It wasn’t a distraction. It wasn’t comfort, exactly. It was just you. And that had become enough.

He started talking more.

Not much at first. A dry comment here. A sarcastic joke. A muttered thanks when you adjusted the covers without a word. But little by little, the silence between you turned into something softer.

He told you, eventually, what it felt like during the overload—how his vision fractured into a million pieces of color and data, how it felt like staring into a star going supernova, how beautiful and terrifying it was right before it all went black.

He told you how much he hated waking up like this. How he’d spent the first week after the surgery pretending to be asleep so the medics would leave him alone. How he’d nearly ripped the bandages off in the middle of the night once, just to see something—anything.

And then one night, when the sky outside was heavy with stormclouds, he whispered— “I was more scared after the battle than during it.”

He didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out, like breath.

You didn’t say anything at first. But you reached out again, your hand closing around his like it had that first day.

He held on.

“I thought I’d lost everything,” he said another evening. “Not just the fight. Not just the sight. But who I was. Like... if I wasn’t the one who could see the future, who the hell was I?”

You didn’t answer with words. You just squeezed his hand, grounding him in the moment, reminding him—he was still here.

Then, one quiet morning, as you sat beside him sipping tea, he said it. Barely more than a murmur. “It calms me… having you here.”

You turned to look at him, but he didn’t face you. He didn’t have to.

“This... everything’s gone. I don’t know what’s gonna come back, or if I’ll ever be able to fight again. But you—You’re still here. I didn’t lose you.”

And that mattered more than he could say.

There were still bad days. Days when he snapped without meaning to. Days when the darkness was too thick. Days when he felt like he was drowning inside a body that no longer felt like his.

But you were there.

And somehow, that made the weight easier to carry.

He didn’t know what came next. But for now, in the middle of the unknown, in the quiet hum of machines and the soft warmth of your presence—

Narumi felt something close to peace.

Even without his sight, he’d never seen something so clearly.

Rehab began like everything else had—quietly. No fanfare, no announcements. Just a nurse at the edge of his bed one morning saying, “Let’s start.”

Narumi didn’t respond right away. He just turned his face toward the voice, bandages now gone but eyes still blank, still useless. Still waiting. 

Waiting for something to come back. Or to never come back at all.

The exercises started small.

Walking the length of a room with his hand on the wall. Sitting upright without losing balance. Navigating space by memory and sound. All while his body screamed at him about how broken it still was.

His pride took the worst of it.

But he swallowed it—barely. For someone who once fought Kaiju with sniper precision and split-second foresight, struggling to find the damn bathroom felt like defeat all over again.

But you were there.

Every time.

Mornings, evenings, and sometimes both.

You learned the rhythm of his recovery without being asked. You walked beside him when he took those first steps down the sterile hallway. You stood just far enough that he had to reach but close enough that he’d never fall alone. You didn’t make it a big deal when he stumbled, and you never offered help unless he asked.

He hated how much he needed that.

And how much he needed you.

One afternoon, when he misjudged the edge of the therapy railing and slammed his shoulder hard enough to bruise, he swore under his breath and froze. Shoulders tense. Breathing shallow.

You said nothing. Just moved to stand beside him, arms crossed loosely.

“Don’t say it,” he muttered.

“I wasn’t going to.”

He waited.

Still silence.

Then, just as he was about to turn away— 

“You’re doing fine, Gen.”

And somehow, that was worse. Because it meant you saw through it all. The anger. The frustration. The pain. And you stayed anyway.

It was late one evening when it happened. The hospital wing was quiet. Rehab was over for the day. The lights were dimmed, and he was sitting upright in his bed, muscles aching but stretched, breathing slow.

You were beside him, like always. Reading something softly under your breath. It didn’t matter what. He didn’t care about the story. He just liked the sound of your voice.

“I thought I wouldn’t care,” he said suddenly.

You stopped. Looked up. “About what?”

“Being alone.”

A pause.

He leaned his head back against the wall and let the truth fall out of him.

“I used to think—if I lost everything, I’d just... figure it out. Fight through. Adapt. That's what I do. You know? But when this happened—and I woke up, and they told me I might never see again... it wasn’t the blindness that scared me.”

He turned his face toward you, eyes still unfocused, but fixed on where you sat.

“It was thinking I’d have to go through it alone.”

Your breath caught. Just barely.

“But then you came. And you kept coming back. Every single day. Even when I was a bastard about it. Even when I didn’t say a damn thing.”

He let out a slow, trembling exhale.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen with my sight. Maybe it comes back. Maybe it doesn’t. But if I’m being honest... it doesn’t matter as much as it used to.”

You didn’t move. Just listened.

“Because I can still feel you next to me. And as long as you’re here… I think I’ll be okay.”

He didn’t say I love you—not yet. But it was there. In every word. Every silence that followed. Every breath he took after saying it.

Then—hesitantly, almost shyly—he reached toward the space beside him.

And you took his hand.

Like you always had.

And this time, Narumi smiled—not forced, not bitter.

Just real.

Masterlist

[skyeslittlecorner]

Rough timeline of Hell

Tldr: devils are such grandpas.

Has anyone managed to write down the timeline in hell yet? Because for now I'm slowly catching up on what I wasn't there and I have to write everything down so I don't get lost. I've done some math before, trying to figure out how many years have passed since Solomon disappeared. I will quickly refresh this information a bit - Most things haven't changed, but I should mention that we now know that time in Hell and on Earth passes at different times and rates. So today a minute may pass, and tomorrow a year may pass.

For the sake of keeping some data, we'll stick with the average I calculated earlier, because I haven't found a better point of reference yet. So - one year in hell is 6.6 years on earth.

Quick proportions: 365*365/6.6 =~56 days

That would mean MC has been in hell for about two months.

Possible? I guess so. I don't remember MC's exact time in hell being given anywhere, but I haven't read 6Ch yet. Devils believe that for them practically no time has passed, but they are long-lived, there's no point in believing them. This is of course the time of the main storyline.

Now it's time for something worse. Two months is a piece of cake - now we'll be playing with years. Let's start with the order in which the kingdoms were formed.

Tartaros - Definitely the first, judging by little Mammon's event.

Hades - I'm betting on the latter, because when Satan formed Gehenna, Levi was already on the throne. We know this from both Sitri and Amy events.

Gehenna - After these two, I think the third one is Gehenna. When Satan found Sitri (which was during his takeover of Gehenna), the other kings also showed up and had their eyes on him. Mammon and Levi. Beel didn't show up then.

Avisos - Continuing, Beel may not have appeared because he didn't care, or because he wasn't king. I have no information on that. So I'd put him somewhere between Hades or not far after Gehenna.

Abaddon - no information. From Asmodeus himself and his behavior I would think he could have taken power quite early, but who the hell knows.

Niflheim - I haven't gotten to that event yet, but from what I've seen of people's mentions, no one really knows what to do with them. Rather leaning towards one of the younger countries. It makes sense that Belphi simply didn't feel like it lol

Paradise Lost - The last of the countries, what we know from Luci's event.

Why did I present this? So that we could have some first idea - because now comes the math. Again. Yay.

Sitri, Amy, and Levi allow us to roughly (very roughly) count how much time has passed since the founding of Gehenna to the arrival of the MC. Thanks to the fact that events overlap with the main plot. Long live backstories.

311 years passed from the moment Solomon disappeared until the appearance of MC.

Solomon lived in hell from 100 to 150 years.

Sitri spent almost 100 years in Hades studying.

Sitri and Amy met every five years at Gehenna meetings so regularly that they made a fandom. It's quite modern, post-Solomon times. We can assume about 50-100 years. That's not a problem for now, because…

…They have known each other for hundreds of years, which ranges from 200 to 999 years.

All these events create a timeline something something like this:

We need to assume something to be able to operate on numbers.

For minimum: 100+200+311-50 = 561

For maximum: 100+999+311-100 = 1310

So the average is: (561+1310)/2=935,5

This would mean that somewhere between 561 and 1310 years passed from the founding of Gehenna to the appearance of the MC. With probability leaning closer to 935 years, since we have nothing better than an average.

I think these assumptions are enough for now. Especially since we have no idea what the truth is. As you can see, there are a lot of maybes and ifs. But still, I think it's interesting to at least try to grasp how older our sexy boys are.

Of course if you have something to add, add it! I could be wrong on so many levels that I don't even know if it's worth posting this, but I had too much fun writing it (and maybe I'll learn something more from you!)

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Aren't you tired yet? So, I have another funfact. It falls into the category of conspiracy theories are my passion. (They are as you see.)

From the moment Solomon appeared in hell to the moment MC appeared, approximately 461 years passed. If MC lived a similarly long life, that's a total of 611 years. In terms of Earth years, the entire cycle, from when Solomon appeared to when Solomon's descendant disappeared, would take about 4,000 Earth years. (611*6.6)

What's interesting about this, you ask?

Let me quote something: "The chronology [of the Bible] is highly schematic, marking out a world cycle of 4,000 years."

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronology_of_the_Bible

That would be an interesting symbolism. Our ancestor started a cycle that began to change hell, and MC, his descendant, would end that cycle, giving hope for a new, better era.

[numbuh24insane]

Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sage's Lament

“Father.”

A morose whisper echoed across the wind. A small white haired girl clad in black hovered above the ground, her body flickering with lines of code. Her shoulders were slumped downward, a notably human expression by an AI creation. A frown had marred her visage as she stared up into the sky, observing the massive and spent Question Mark Block that floated there where the Death Egg once had been.

That was where she had lost her father.

Where Bowser had sent him soaring into, followed by a massive explosion that left no traces of him.

This whole conquest had been one big failure.

She had lost her brother, Metal Sonic and her father, Dr. Ivo Robotnik.

And all she could do was blame herself.

It was her that pushed for Eggman to go after other conquests. She had thought she was helping protect Sonic, a being that she was fond of. But now she realized that she pushed her father towards his doom. Not only that she had agreed that the Koopa Kingdom was the perfect place for a newfound conquest, their technology was pitiful in the face of the Eggman Empire.

Her calculations had shown them winning the battle.

Her calculations . . .

The very battle plans that her father trusted. They were doomed to fail from the very beginning. She should have known that she didn’t have the data for accurate simulations, she should have stopped her father and pushed for further research . . . But she didn’t.

She was too caught up in the fun and excitement of it all. Seeing the proud look on her father’s face when she presented him with a plan. It made her non-existent heart flutter and made her not even consider any possibilities of failure.

But they failed.

And her family died as a result.

It was her fault.

All she could do was blame herself.

Before she had any more time to blame herself, a piece of paper was pushed into her hand by one of the two survivors of that epic battle. It was her brother, Orbot who looked at her with a gentle smile.

She glanced down at the paper, reading it over. It was a recruitment drive from the Koopa Kingdom to recoup their losses from Eggman’s sudden invasion.

“Sister, with the Doctor gone it is best that we join up with a new overlord.” Orbot told her.

“It’ll be better under Bowser as well. No more threats of him decommissioning me! And he provides dental!” Cubot supplied.

“You are . . . You are abandoning father?” Her voice broke as she stared at them. The last vestiges of her family, breaking away to join the man that murdered their father. It was betrayal of the highest order and she simply could not forgive it.

“I wouldn’t consider it as abandoning him, after all the Doctor is no longer with us. We have served our function to the best of our ability, now it is time to move on.” Orbot explained, hoping that their sister would join them.

“And we’ll be safer with the Koopa Kingdom, I mean did you see the magic they have!” Cubot shot his arms up, grinning.

“That too. He even used magic to bring himself back to life.” Orbot nodded.

Magic.

Bring himself back to life.

Eggman never believed in magic, nor did she. There was always a rational and scientific explanation for everything . . . But if Magic could bring back her father, then she would believe in it with every fiber of her coding.

She was a child, clutching a blanket for safety in the dark.

“I must go.”

She sped off into the sky as her brothers called out her name. But she wanted nothing to do with them. They had betrayed the Empire, betrayed Father and betrayed her. 

She soared among the clouds, calculations already being put into place. She could not rely on simulations, not anymore. Not until she had all the data.

So instead she was trusting hunches and whims, making calculated guesses.

And those thoughts were pushing her towards the Mushroom Kingdom. After all, she completely and utterly refused to learn this magic from the Koopa Kingdom. She wanted nothing to do with those murderers!

It only made sense to go to the enemy of the Koopa Kingdom and plead her case to them. Surely, they would support someone who had fought Bowser!

“No! Absolutely not!” An aged, mustached Toad stated. This was Toadsworth, the Royal Advisor to Princess Peach. He stared down Sage with an utter look of displeasure,”We will never aid warmongers, I say!”

“I do not understand.” Sage tilted her head to the side,”Bowser is a threat to the Mushroom Kingdom, is he not? I have first seen his strength, your meager military would be destroyed if he mounted an offensive against you. So, why not assist in bringing back the man that has proven to be able to challenge Bowser in his home territory?”

The Toad was taken back by her blunt and practically emotionless response. “You dare disgrace our military with your words! What has this Eggman ever achieved but humiliation at the hands of the Koopa King! We need no help from villains nor do we require help from someone with so little worth as he!”

In an instant Sage’s black clothing turned red. She had raised up her hand pointing it at the Toad,”Father is not as you call worthless! He is a visionary! A genius! One of the greatest minds in the Multiverse! Just because you cannot comprehend genius, does not give you the right to dismiss my Father and insult him! Take it back!” A red beam exploded from her hand, firing out at Toadworth.

There was a red blur as a plumber suddenly appeared in front of the Toad. A hammer connected with the beam, sending it flying safely into a nearby wall. The Plumber landed back onto the ground, tilting his hat over his eyes as he gave a satisfied smile.

“I say! I say!” Toadsworth shouted out once he had regained his senses,”The Mushroom Kingdom will not associate with bullies like y-” He stopped in an instant as the Princess lifted up her hand, silencing him. She stood up from her throne and stepped off of it.

“Thank you for saving Toadsworth, Mario.” She spoke as she stood next to her hero. She leaned down and gave him a kiss on his cheek, resulting in the Plumber looking away and blushing. A lovestruck smile was clear on his face. She then turned her gaze onto Sage, ”I apologize for my advisor . . . we have had bad dealings with others in the past.”

Sage’s rage dissipated in an instant and she came falling back onto the ground, no longer hovering. The presence of the Princess was pure and almost heavenly. She was awestruck.

“Stand up.” Peach smiled, ”I will help you, after all what kind of Princess would I be if I abandoned a child who needs help.”

“Y-you will?” Sage stuttered out, wondering if she just experienced a glitch. She was going to have to run a diagnostic check on herself once she got home. 

“Of course.” Peach promised, ”Unfortunately, we are not as well versed with magic as the Koopa Kingdom, though we do keep the Royal Library well stocked with plenty of knowledge on the subject. You’re free to study to your heart's content!”

Sage let out a great big smile, flying forward to grab Peach’s hands. 

“Thank you! This means so much! I promise when Father conquers this world that he will leave your Kingdom alone!” Sage thanked the Princess while Peach let out a giggle at the child's words. 

It was all too adorable in her eyes.

With that over, Sage zoomed through the halls and bursted through the doors to the Royal Library. She raised up her arm, books began to levitate off their shelves and spun around her. They opened up, flicking from page to page with extreme speed. She only needed a simple glance to gather all the information that they provided.

“Amazing, to think that this world contains so much.” She stated out in awe, momentarily forgetting her grief. “The 1-UP Mushrooms provide these people with extra lives, unfortunately they are required to be ingested before death. I will ensure that these mushrooms are part of Father’s diet once I bring him back. This incident will not repeat again. I’ll make sure of it.”

The book flew back to its shelf as she focused on another one.

“The Life Shroom can bring someone back after the brink, but it requires a vessel for it to be put in . . . Bowser left no traces of my father after his attack. This one will not do.”

It was time for another book.

“This one is a newspaper clipping? I see, the Dream Stone? It is capable of granting the user any wish that they so desire. It is reported that Bowser had stolen it only for Mario to shatter it and return the dream stone to its rightful place.” She stared over at the photograph in the paper. A triumphant Mario standing next to the reformed Dreamstone whilst Bowser was tied up and rolling his eyes. She noted that there was an indent alongside the stone and that a similar sized shape bulged against Bowser’s cheek.

He was hiding a shard of the dream stone in his mouth.

“Bowser could still summon life out of nothing with just the shards of the Dream Stone. If it has as much power as this says, then this will be how I bring back Father!”

She needed to go back to the Koopa Kingdom!

A moat of lava, a castle of black stone with the face of its King carved out on top of the castle. It was so ego indulgent that it disgusted Sage. She had no problem with her own father’s vanity projects, she found his Death Egg Robot designed after his own face to be adorable.

But something like this?

It was far too much, not to mention that it was a reminder of the man that killed her Father and the power he still possessed. How she wanted to glass this entire Empire, if only the Eggman Fleet still existed, if only they still had the Death Egg. 

Then she would have made them all pay.

She shook her head, pushing her thoughts of hatred to the side. She had to focus on what mattered! She had to focus on bringing back Father! Revenge could wait until another day.

With that in mind she flew through a massive pipe towards the bottom of the gargantuan structure. Hovering just above the lava as she navigated the labyrinthian system. She spotted a door and pushed through it, finding herself in some sort of dungeon. She floated along, moving further and moving silently.

“Sage? Is that you?”

She froze as she heard her name uttered. She turned her head towards one of the Cells and saw Infinite, laying against the wall. She almost didn’t recognize the Jackal without his ever famous mask. 

“Infinite! You survived!” The Eggman Empire had already lost and suffered so much, she was quite thankful that Infinite was here. 

“I had thought I casted aside my ‘weak’ self when the Doctor had rebuilt my body, when he fused that ruby to my very being.” He glanced down at his hand,”Power without peer, that is what I held . . . and still I lost. I am as weak as I ever have been.”

“No! You’re not weak Infinite! You were simply caught by surprise! The fault is mine, I should have realized that an immaterial being such as Boo would be able to do more than just haunt. It was my plan that was used and it is my fault that we lost.” 

A chuckle emerged from Infinite, the back of his head resting against the cold stone of his cell. “It seems that we are both to blame. Our arrogance has truly blinded us, to think that we can rise above our place within this cold world. If you are not born with power, then you can never make it.”

“That’s not true! Father is just a human, but he has made machines capable of contending with what others would call gods! He is proof that you can become stronger . . . Infinite, you’re not weak. Please, don’t beat yourself up like this! It doesn’t matter what you believe or what others believe. The facts are that you are strong, it was your power that defeated Sonic, it was your power that took over the world and what’s more is that you survived when the Empire fell.”

Infinite stared at Sage. Her words lifted him up out of his despair, just enough to give him that small bit of hope to latch onto.

“Where is the Doctor anyway?”

Sage looked away, ”Father is . . . gone.” Her AI voice croaked with pain and grief, “This castle contains a shard of the Dream Stone, I can use its power and wish Father back to life.”

The Jackal nodded as he processed the information,”I’m still under the Doctor’s payroll, so I’ll do my job and help you get that shard.” He smirked, noting the utter joy in Sage’s reaction.

“Of course! Let me free you right away!” She stated as she lifted up her hand and blasted the lock into smithereens. 

Infinite stepped out of his prison,”Do you know where the shard is located?”

“I have a rough layout of the castle downloaded into my memory. It is incomplete and based off of Mario’s invasion into the castle to free Princess Peach. The layout I know is mostly from the entrance and through the traps and halls to the Throne Room. I can navigate us through the traps without any worry of triggering them.”

“Bring on the traps, I will not be bested a second time by this enemy.” 

The duo clambered up the stairs at the end of the dungeon, pushing through a door and finding themselves in a massive hallway. It was completely littered with paintings. Each painting was a sad looking figure, their fists pressed against the canvas as if they were trying to escape.

“Our enemy has no taste in decor.” Sage supplied, making conversation with Infinite. The Jackal merely grunted in acknowledgement not at all liking the decor himself. They continued down the path and Infinite started to feel like he was being watched. He glanced from side to side, ensuring that no one was creeping up on them.

But he should have been looking up instead of looking around.

King Boo had pushed his head through the ceiling and let out a great big sadistic grin as he saw the two. They were within his hallway of horrors, all of his trophies were laid out for the world to see his victories. He took such delight in the horrified faces, permanently etched into the paintings that they were trapped in.

He let out a silent giggle as he saw Infinite, recalling how he had bested the Jackal before. 

How cruel would it be if he did it a second time.

With that in mind he pointed his nub forward and created a thwomp right above the Jackal, sending it straight down. He heard the little girl scream in surprise and finally let out a great big laugh.

The ghost shot forward straight at Sage.

The AI turned around in an instant and shot at the ghost, her laser dissipating the being for a fraction of a second, but she realized that it ultimately did no damage.

“Halt!” She shouted at King Boo, fear creeping up within her AI Voice. King Boo’s smile grew more twisted and sadistic as he enjoyed the fear. His crown shined with power as a canvas appeared, a swirling effect upon the front of it.

“Wait . . . are those all real people? Trapped in paintings!?” Her voice became more horrified as she connected the dots. She flew backwards away from the ghost, her movements fueled by panic.

King Boo grinned and used his own magic to construct a wall, halting Sage’s escape. She felt as her hard light back pressed against the cold stone, her eyes wide with fear as the canvas came closer and closer.

Then without warning a Thwomp flew forward, hitting the King’s Crown and sending it flying off the Ghost's head. Boo twisted himself around and saw the utterly pissed off form of Infinite.

“Did you think that paltry trick would work twice!” Infinite growled out,”Your battle is with me, disgusting white creature.”

Boo glared as he moved to attack Infinite, only for Sage to grip the canvas and threw it onto Boo, trapping the Ghost inside his own painting. A painting which Infinite caught and broke over his knee, tossing it to the side.

“Who's the fraud now?” He muttered out as he continued forward, picking up the crown. He frowned as he realized that he couldn’t access its power, and wondered if it was because of what manner of creature that Boo was or if it was simply magic. In any case, he destroyed the crystal. “Let’s continue, Sage.”

“R-right.” She nodded, a bit shaken up by the encounter. She lifted up her arm and blasted at the wall that King Boo made until it gave way. 

As the wall collapsed they could hear the frantic marching of the foot soldiers. The sound of their battle and the laser blasts had alerted the castle to the intrusion. Infinite let out a curse as he stepped towards the massive oak door.

“Where do you need to go from here?” He asked Sage.

“Once we exit this hall we will need to head left towards the Throne Room.” 

“ . . . No, you’ll head left towards the throne room.” Infinite retorted,”I’ll exit first and head right and create a distraction. You wait a minute before leaving.” With that he pushed through the door before Sage could argue against his plan.

Once outside the Hall, he was met with a group of guards. 

“Is that all you can muster to deal with intruders? How pathetic.” He cracked his knuckles as he stepped forward,”Let me show you why I’m called the ULTIMATE MERCENARY” He leapt forward, his fist collided with the skull of a koopa troopa, causing it to retreat into its shell.

He then kicked the shell, sending it flying straight into a gaggle of goombas. Infinite sprinted forward, his hands came in front of him catching two hammers that were thrown his way by a hammer bro. 

“You fools!” He laughed, swinging down the weapon at a Chargin’ Chuck and cracking that football helmet, knocking it out with a single blow. He leapt up into the air, kicking off the wall to get greater height as he tossed his hammer down at a bo-bomb below, exploding it and those around it.

“I will teach you fear! I will teach you pain!”

He relished in this carnage, monologuing and ensuring all the focus was on him. The more damage he caused, the more troops he defeated, the more attention that he’ll garner. 

The safer that Sage will be.

“Infinite.”

Sage whispered as she zoomed through the now empty halls. The sound of battle far in the distance. She felt a shred of guilt, knowing that Infinite had put himself into harms way for her sake. 

But it was worth it.

It had to be.

She will get her father back!

The AI had no more plans as she bursted into the throne room, her gaze moving across the room as she desperately searched for the Dream Stone Shard. But all that she saw was Cubot and Orbot sweeping the floor.

“You traitors.”

Sage growled out as she lifted her arm at them. Cubot jumped up and hid behind Orbot, who looked at her with a frown upon his face. Sage’s eyes widened slightly and she bit her lip as she suppressed her rage.

They were still family.

Even if they betrayed Father.

“What are you doing here, Sister?” Orbot questioned, rolling closer to his brethren. Cubot instead opted to stay a safe distance away from her. “I hope that you’re not trying to enact vengeance.”

“Yeah! You’d get scrapped! Thankfully Bowser is on vacation with his family!” Cubot spoke up, truly thankful that Bowser wasn’t here. If he was, then there sister would stand no chance.

“What does it matter to you two. You turned your backs on Father!” Her voice then became softer,” . . . You turned your backs on me.”

Orbot and Cubot glanced over at one another, guilt soaked their circuits. 

“We would never turn our backs on you, sister.” Orbot promised. 

“Yeah! No matter what, you’re family! That’ll never change!” Cubot continued.

“And we would love to help you anyway we can.”

“What? I mean of course we do!”

Sage stood there floating above them. A soft smile blossomed upon her lips. She descended down to their level. Her small arms pulled them into a hug.

“I had thought I lost you as well . . . I feared that I was alone.” Her voice wavered. After a moment she spoke again,”There is a way to bring back Father. Bowser is in possession of a Dream Stone Shard. Do you know where it would be held?” 

She asked them.

Orbot scratched his head whilst Cubot rubbed his chin in thought. Then they both raised up a finger, coming to the conclusion at the same time.

“Items of such power are held in Kameks study. It’s to protect them from the prying grasp of the koopalings.”

“Yeah, those kids are nothing but trouble makers! They’re not nearly as well behaved as you are.”

Sage nodded, processing this information. Her mouth formed a frown, realizing that Kamek had survived their encounter. She questioned how little damage their invasion force had caused, truly she led her father to doom with her strategy.

But she can fix this.

“Where is his study?” Sage demanded and was led straight there by the two robots. They talked and joked amongst themselves and Sage felt for a moment that everything had returned to normal.

Reality of course came crashing back to her once they were in front of the door.

“Let us take care of it, sister.” Orbot told her.

“Yeah, you’ve already done so much!” Cubot supplied.

Sage nodded and took a couple step back, letting the duo take lead in this. Orbot raised up his fist and knocked on the door.

“Lord Kamek! It is time for your room to be cleaned.”

“Yeah, y’don’t want to get it all dusty! It’s bad for your health!”

From behind the door a grumbling could be heard. It opened and there stood a tired Kamek, clad in silk pajamas. “What is the meaning of this? The weekly cleaning of my study is to happen tomo-” 

The Wizard was cut off as both Bots shot their fists forward, punching him in the face and knocking him out. Sage thanked her brothers and zoomed into the room, she was frantic as she searched throughout the room. She forced every chest open until she came upon the multi-colored shard.

“It’s here.” 

She felt like crying as she clutched it close to her chest. 

But she couldn’t cry, not yet. 

She still needed to escape with her prize. She once again thanked her brothers before bursting out of the room. She calculated the quickest route out of the castle and it was through the trapped hall.

That was the one she chose.

Past the thwomps, over the lava geysers, avoiding the chain chomps, shooting down the Bullet Bills and straight to the door. The guards left in this hall were minimal, most of them were still engaged in battle with Infinite. And those that were left could not hope to keep up with Sage. 

She made it to the outside.

Freedom.

She could taste it.

She could feel the cold air.

All she needed to do now was get a safe distance away from the castle and then she can wish her father back! She could envision him now, his proud smile as he pat her head!

That dream was soon dashed as she felt something hard collide with her back, sending her down and into the grass. She gasped, turning over to see the Elite Trio. A Goomba, A Koopa and a Shy Guy. The Koopa smirked as he pressed his foot down against her chest, preventing her from escaping.

“Look who we caught.”

“Isn’t she the girl that was helping that mad scientist? She shot that beam that threatened to destroy the whole Koopa Kingdom, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, and we’ll be promoted when we turn her into Bowser.”

Sage shivered in fear, tears of frustration streaming down her face. “Please! Let me go!” She was so close, so close to getting back her family!

“Nuh-huh, no way!”

“You already got away once, do you think we’ll actually let you get away a second time? Especially after invading the Kings castle!?”

“Besides, if we get promoted we might become Kamek’s boss!”

The Shy Guy leaned down, his arms coming out to grab Sage as she let out a scream, desperate to escape their grasp.

“FATHER!”

She cried out.

“No one’s going to save you.”

“You’re all alone.”

“So just make it eas-” The Koopa was interrupted as a hand gripped the back of his neck. He felt himself get lifted up into the air before being slammed into the ground. The Shy Guy and Goomba turned in alarm and saw Dr. Ivo Robotnik looming over them, his eyes narrowed in complete and utter rage. 

“Get your grubby mitts off my daughter!” He roared out, his foot launching into the mask of the Shy Guy. The Goomba jumped up with fear and turned around, looking to escape the Father’s wrath . . . but he was far too slow. Eggman had grabbed him by the head, bashing him into a tree. 

Sage blinked as she stared up, surprise in her eyes. “F-father?” She uttered out with disbelief.

The man kneeled down in front of her, gifting her with a gentle smile,”Yes, Sage, I am here.” He assured her. The little girl shot forward into her fathers arms. Her form shuddered as she sobbed against his chest.

“I thought . . . I thought I would never see you again!” She cried,”You were dead and it was all my fault.”

His hand came down on top of her head, fingers running through her digitized hair. “It was never your fault, Sage. How could it ever be your fault, you’re still but a child.” He told her, “You are a genius, but you still need to experience and grow. I on the other hand am the ruler of the Eggman Empire, all failures fall onto my shoulder. The blame lies solely with me.”

She sniffled slightly as she stared up at her Father, clutching onto him as if her life depended on it.

“There is one thing I don’t understand.” Eggman muttered out,”How am I back alive and how am I here?” He asked, giving Sage something new to focus on.

“I stole this Dream Stone Shard from Bowser and used it to wish you back, Father.” She said as she held out said shard. Eggman gripped it and looked it over. It was no longer the vibrant multi-colored shard it once was. It was now a lifeless grey color, devoid of all power.

“Seems that it’s out of juice, but it might still be useful to have if we ever find a way to refill it.” Eggman smiled and ruffled Sage’s hair.

“It’s out of power?” Sage pouted,”I wanted to wish for Brother to be back as well.”

Eggman hummed out in thought. He glanced around the area as his glasses flared to life. He let out a smirk,

“There’ll be no need for that, daughter. Metal is still functional, I can detect his S.O.S signal. He’s most likely too injured to move, but his AI seems to be fully operational. We’ll be able to repair him.”

Sage beamed as she took in this information. She didn’t have the ability that Eggman’s glasses had, after all this world had no Eggnet connected to it. She felt a bit lost without the Eggnet.

“I see, you completed your mission.” 

The father and daughter duo jumped in surprise. They turned around to see a limping Infinite head their way, Orbot and Cubot were on either side of him, helping to support his body.

“What are you looking at?” Infinite muttered out,”We need to go. I jammed their door shut, but it won’t hold them forever.” 

Eggman nodded. 

He offered his hand over to Sage.

“Let’s go grab Metal and head home, dear daughter.”

Sage smiled and accepted his hand.

“Home. I like the sound of that.”

[eiswolfzero]

Second WIP I'm not sure I'll continue, this one's a bit different in that I have some notes for it too

Characters: Desmond (The Reader), Ezio, Dezio was planned Summary: Desmond is the Reader and identifies himself like that. For some reason he gets thrown back in time to Ezio but doesn't believe it's real

Status: Unfinished

Notes:

Desmond’s skin feels hot to the touch as long as he glows

thinks he’s hallucinating

when Ezio tells him to stay where he is he “is used to being kept locked away”

Desmond is fine being pushed around, he has his calculations to do and everything else is just side stuff. and as a tool he may as well follow

he can't feel the air and Temperature around him (this changes) 

Also these tags by @cynical-cat towards my idea back then

Another node dwindled out after a bright flash of golden light, another catastrophic end for humanity. 

No matter. 

The Reader moved onto the next node, hoping that this one will make it farther than the one before. This one branched off directly from the node that had died just moments ago, sharing the same events until it didn't. 

The branch felt hesitant, as if not ready, and yet he knew he needed to see its contents. It bloomed beautifully under his touch, revealing its events, it's course. And humanity flourished for a moment before his eyes, the fight between two warring hidden groups seemingly unimportant. 

Between one blink of his golden eyes and the next the node lost its colors, humanity gone within the flash of light. Another path gone, another catastrophe he couldn't hope to stop.

He let the node fall from his hand and moved to the next, a whole new branch waiting for him. 

(What would he do once he saw what he was looking for?) 

(It didn't matter.)

Another node, another cataclysmic death of everyone.

Another. Here, Earth exploded. 

In the next, a plague, triggered on purpose. 

The next, an earthquake that hadn't been in any of the other nodes. It too died. 

The reader felt mild annoyance as he moved to another branch. For a brief moment he wondered how long he had been doing this (he knew, he had all the data, it was there for him to read). 

How many nodes had been useless from the start? (He knew the answer. ) 

How many more would there be? (An endless number, so many things that could go wrong. So many that were going wrong the moment he decided to look.) 

His fingers, glowing (burning, he may as well be still burning), gently touched the next. It lit up at it, as if taking in his light, and glowed brilliantly, the possibilities within blooming as they revealed themselves to him. 

They withered. 

One moment, life flourished before his eyes and the next it was gone, burned to ash. The sun. Again. 

He let the node fall away from him, the tiny branch disintegrating into nothing as if it too had burned. 

He moved to the next. 

He watches three more die before one node at the top of the artificial tree caught his attention. 

Where most nodes glowed a subdued golden, much like he did (he knew he shone brighter than any node, burning), or a faint blue, that one node glowed a vivid green. The branch it came from stopped its golden glow right at the trunk and faded to a nondescript grey. On its way to the node it slowly regained color, but it was the strange green rather than gold or blue. 

Curious, the Reader willed the tree to bend that branch closer to him. Usually the tree did this by itself, the more he worked his way through the nodes, the more grew at the top, only to slowly make their way towards him. 

But this, this he had to see immediately. 

The tree followed his command, bending the other nodes and branches out of the way before lowering the vivid green one before the Reader. 

He stared at it. 

Why was it different? What caused this particular color? 

He lifted his hand towards it, nonexistent breath halted at the suspense. The Grey around him pulsated a deep red before the Reader could touch the node. He halted in his movement, looking around him. 

There was only the endless Grey with its faint, fake horizon. 

He turned back to the node and held his hand underneath it, the tree dutifully lowering it into it. 

The moment the node came into contact with him made the entire Grey around him flash the disconcerting red again (it would have reminded him of a desynchronizing Animus). But the green from the node lightened up to an overwhelming green, then white. Bright enough to cause the Reader to close his eyes, wincing from the pain of having looked at it for just a moment. 

A ripple went through the Grey, through his body. He thought he heard someone scream and shout from far, far away. 

Then it became quiet, the light behind his eyelids only the one from himself, rather from the node. 

The Reader opened his eyes, white spots dancing in his vision. He blinked them away and stared at his hand. The node was gone.

He flexed his fingers, turning his hand around and back but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

Until he decided to look up. 

The tree was gone, as was the Grey. Instead he stood in a room, walls decorated beautifully around him, the feeling…cozy. The bed looked unmade, despite the sun hanging high through the window and-

He must be hallucinating. The Reader had hoped to leave these particular things behind. The Bleeding, the hallucinations and associated feelings but apparently even in the Grey he wasn't safe from it. 

Sighing, he waved his hand around, hoping to touch at least one of the nodes that must be in front of him somewhere. Maybe reading one would pull him out of this-

“Merda.” A voice murmured and followed with a sigh that conveyed someone being rather exhausted. 

Curious, the Reader turned and met eyes with Ezio. So it would be one of these hallucinations. He tilted his head to look Ezio over from head to toe, trying to determine which year it might be based on looks alone (there should be data for him to read. Where was it?). The answer however seemed unclear, as Ezio had partially undressed already in the safety of his home.

Strangely, he could feel Ezio's eyes on him as well. A rather deep hallucination then. 

Ezio took one, slow step towards him and spoke. “Are you one of them? One of those that came before?” 

The Reader met Ezio's eyes (it really did seem like Ezio was looking at him) and briefly turned to  look behind himself. But there was only a window with the sun streaming inside, so he turned back. 

Frustration had settled on Ezio's face in the short moment the Reader had looked away.

“You are visiting me now? Why all the riddles then? The keys, if you can do that?” Ezio's voice held authority, strength (he must have been Il Mentore for a while then). Ezio scoffed. “Do you not understand me? Have you visited to haunt me then?” 

The Reader blinked. The hallucination was realistic, compelling enough to make him want to reply (and why not? He was stuck in it for now by the looks of it). 

“I understand you,” the Reader said, his own voice feeling foreign. As if his throat hadn't been used in a while. He cleared it, the noise like ash rubbing against skin in his own ears.

“Then answer!” Ezio took another step but still remained safely away (safe from what? He wouldn't do anything). 

Another almost slow blink, not quite amused at the others frustration but still finding familiarity facing it. “No, I'm not one of the Isu. No, I'm not visiting, I'm…hallucinating, I suppose…,” he trailed off towards the end. His eyes started to wander around, taking in the details around him. Almost as if he could read them instead of data (there was none. Where was it?). 

The sound of another step drew the Reader's attention back to Ezio, confusion starting to seep into his demeanor more than anger. 

“Hallucinating? You think I am not real?”

“You're not. I've had these hallucinations before. Although, I admit, this one is one of the more elaborate ones. Nothing looks washed out or seems to fade in and out of view.” To make sure, he looked around again, only to face Ezio once more. Everything looked…stable. Every detail on the other’s outfit clear as day. 

Ezio stepped close enough to come stand before him, expression serious as he studied the Reader. 

The Reader in turn just stared back. He wondered why he was hallucinating having so much of Ezio's attention, when before it was just him being someone who watched things unfold. 

There was a tense silence until Ezio put his hand on the Reader's chest, pushing against it while meeting his eyes. 

The Readers eyes widened before Ezio suddenly pulled his hand away as if burned. “Ouch, you are not just glowing for show,” he hissed while offering a smug look. “But you felt that, correct?” 

[charles-leclerc-official]

2024 Monaco Grand Prix Analysis

At the beginning of this season Charles said that his was a dream that writes itself in red, well this weekend that dream wrote itself in red and white on the streets of Monaco. 

In these analyses I like to break down a race, share numbers, graphs, really dig into the technical elements of the sport. But I write these analyses to get my thoughts down about the sport I love.

This is going to be a lot more, let’s say, emotional than my usual style of analysis. Because analysis does go beyond just the numbers, it’s about the people behind the wheel, it’s about understanding the story of a race, and this race has a particularly special story. 

Because for the first time in Formula One history Charles Leclerc won the Monaco Grand Prix.

Table of Contents Race Overview Ferrari - Charles: win, qualifying, data, strategy - Carlos: strategy - Data Analysis Mclaren - Oscar - Lando - Data Analysis Red Bull - Max: qualifying - Sergio: qualifying, crash - Data Analysis Haas Alpine Mercedes Williams Final Thoughts

Race Overview

So, there were other cars on the track this race, and they did in fact do things, so as much as I’d like to write only about Charles, I still have to talk about the race as a whole, because this race was revealing on the data side of things. 

Before we get to Charles’ story this race, let’s set the stage.

This race really had two key components. The first being qualifying, it’s always crucial in Monaco, and that was no different this year. This race was largely decided in qualifying and we will look at the data there to see where it was won and lost. And second the red flag allowing teams to fulfill their mandatory pitstop after lap 1, which made this a race of tyre management and pace calculations. Teams put on hards, planning on them lasting the remaining 77 laps, because strategically not pitting and thus not risking losing track position was strategically optimal for everyone in the points. 

There were really three races all happening simultaneously. The race at the front that involved Charles, Oscar, Carlos and Lando. The race in the middle involving George, Lewis and Max. And the race behind Yuki, involving the rest of the field. The timing gaps put these drivers all on different strategies, different pace management, with different goals.

While it may not have produced the most thrilling racing on track, there were a lot of moving parts to this race and a lot of skill was shown from all of the top drivers to get their results both in qualifying and in the race. 

First Lap

On the first lap of the race there were 3 separate incidents. And these are all key to the rest of the race.

Kevin hit Checo resulting in a massive crash that took out his teammate Nico as well. This brought out the red flag and required a standing restart of the race. Fortunately all drivers walked away with no major injuries.

Carlos tried to pass Oscar, and in doing so they made slight contact, a bit of the carbon from Oscar's car caused one of Carlos’ tyres to puncture. It appeared as though his race was over, but because this puncture happened after the aforementioned red flag, he was able to keep his position in P3 on the race restart. 

Esteban and Pierre had a collision, when Esteban tried to make a very dangerous pass on Pierre going into the tunnel. This was 100% his fault and resulted in him retiring from the race. 

Fortunately with all of these incidents no drivers were injured. Checo, Nico, Kevin, and Esteban all retired from the race. 

Finally note that Monaco is a very unique track and can produce outlier results. Teams that got good results here may continue to struggle on other tracks, and conversely teams that struggled here will likely fare better on other tracks. Teams that have been strong and were strong here are just continuing a pattern of strong performances from their car and drivers. However there are some things that this track can and did reveal about certain cars, that will carry through to future races.

With all that said, let’s get to the only real race that mattered this weekend. That being Charles in his scarlet SF-24. 

Ferrari

Charles

Are curses real? That may seem a strange thing to ask in a race analysis, but for the past 6 years curses sure felt real. From a failing car, to a failing team strategy Charles’ luck in Monaco became infamous to us all, and at a certain point bad luck starts to feel like a curse. 

Curses aren’t real. 

And if they are, then they are made to be broken.

It started with a red car racing on the streets of Monaco, and a boy watching that red car. It has continued with that same boy, now a man, racing in that red car, winning the streets he’s always called home.

So let’s look at how exactly Charles won this race. 

Charles is the first Monegasque driver in Formula One history to win in Monaco. Louis Chiron was the only other Monegasque driver to win this home race in 1931, before Formula One was officially established. It’s a small country, and the chances one of their own would even make it to Formula One, let alone bring home the win were slim. Charles does like beating the odds. So this isn’t just a meaningful win to one man, it’s special for an entire country, and will now be entered into their history books. 

To say this was a meaningful win would be an understatement. Because this track is one of the crown jewels of Formula One, conquering it is putting your name alongside the greats. Conquering it as your home race is to make history. 

Monaco

I have seen a lot of people not understanding Monaco as a track. And to really put anyone's drive this weekend into proper context, understanding this track is essential.

Put simply, Monaco is the most technical track on the F1 calendar. With tight corners, big speed changes, and the narrowest margins for error this track is one where a driver's skill can really shine. To drive it well is challenging, and it often sorts out the strongest driver between two teammates. This is why qualifying is so exciting, seeing drivers run on a razor's edge trying to get that perfect lap. The reason driver's love this track is because it allows them to really prove their skill to themselves and to their team.

It is also a track that involves unique race strategy.

The main component is that this is the most unforgiving track in the entire calendar. One move that is slightly too far off and you've hit the wall.

To put in a good lap and a good race around Monaco is a testament of a driver's skill. I am impressed with every driver who is able to pull this track off, and do it without error.

Qualifying

Monaco is a race that is usually decided in qualifying. And that is partially true. To win the Monaco grand prix you must put together a flying lap around one of the most challenging tracks in Formula 1, a track that offers next to no margin for error, and then you must complete 78 more laps around this technically demanding track, all without significant error, without losing focus, without letting what few opportunities for overtaking there are be your downfall. 

Starting on pole in Monaco is crucial to having a chance at winning the race. The field this year is closer than it’s been in the last few years. This year Charles’ pole lap most certainly poised him to win the race. 

Here is Charles’ pole lap from qualifying compared to Oscar who qualified P2. And this lap really was a lap of just superior speed and skill on Charles’ part. The little details mattered and that was where Charles brought out the extra pace, putting together a truly masterful pole lap. 

There are quite a few details that set Charles’ lap apart from Oscars’.

Taking those corners at a higher speed, in a higher gear, using that early braking to be able to exit the sector three turns with more speed are what made the difference. It all really did just come together. The reason he could operate in a higher gear was because of his excellent application of the brake and the throttle with millisecond accuracy, as well as the SF-24 being solid on this track in terms of the grip and overall settings. 

Oscar lost pace in areas where these little details that come with experience and skill to get those additional tenths matter.

Charles was ahead in all sectors. There were a few points where Oscar had the edge, but those were very brief. The gap between them really came down to skill on key areas of the track. We know the Mclaren has good top speeds, so it isn’t an issue in that area. 

I think the real story of where exactly the difference between these two laps came is in the throttle and brake application. 

Charles has a signature early braking, followed by a slight jump in throttle application. This allows him to lose less speed in those turns and leverage more control of his grip and exit speed. Rather than braking once for longer, in a few places we see him hit the brake several times quickly, again followed by a short burst of throttle. This is a point of fine control on those turns and allows for a more refined racing line. 

Also because of this he was able to stay in higher gears earlier or for longer. Not only that, his gear management was smoother. Rather than jumping from 3rd gear to 5th like Oscar did on the straight going into turn 12, Charles increased to 4th then 5th, and this actually does give a little more control in terms of grip on the straight as well as the turn. 

A lot of the differences we saw in their laps came down to these little details, where Charles' approach to the entire lap was just more refined and that put him consistently ahead and is the reason he was able to put this all together in a single lap.

Simply put this was a near perfectly refined lap. Pure speed does not put together a fast lap in Monaco, skill does, and Charles was on it in that department this weekend. 

Oscar did put together a good lap as well, do not get me wrong, but it was clearly not as refined as Charles’ and that’s why he qualified P2.

The thing about qualifying at the front was that Charles was not ahead by a fine margin, it wasn’t by a few hundredths, or even just a tenth. It was by a little over 1.5 tenths(0.154s). And compared to the gaps the rest of the top of the field had to each other this lap was impressive, especially with how competitive Mclaren were. The next 6 cars behind Charles all had less than 1 tenth separating them from the car behind(ex Oscar was less than a tenth ahead of Carlos, who was less then a tenth ahead of Lando and so on)

The Race

Qualifying ahead is half of the equation, the other half is managing the following 78 laps with no errors. This race was interesting because it was a battle of pace control and tyre management.

Let’s look at the Charles' race pace graph. No one was driving for fast pace, so this isn’t quite like a lot of previous races we’ve looked at. Those first 10 laps they were feeling each other out, after that it was determined by whatever pace Charles set. And the final ten laps revealed just how well they had managed their tyres.

And as I have been saying all year, if it comes down to a tyre management contest, Charles will win. No one in the top 5 has been better in terms of tyre management all season. And once again Charles gave us another stellar performance in tyre management. This was really clear in those final laps when he was able to push for speed, and Oscar(who tried) wasn’t able to. Oscar managed his tyres well, but he didn’t have enough left to be able to really push for faster laps in the end compared to Charles. I will say I think by the final 3 or so laps Oscar stopped trying to push. Same goes for Charles. At that point the race was decided and everyone’s tyres were spent. 

Here you can see where Charles slowed to artificially keep things at the right pace for the tyres and the time strategy for cars further behind. This wasn’t a race of who has faster pace, it was who can control things and who can keep their tyres in the best shape for the end of the race. So most of these lap times are going to be identical, and that’s just a symptom of the strategy.

But it was lap 66 when Charles started to really pick up the pace where actually being faster came into play. He was able to do this because he’d won in the area of tyre management, and so when he wanted to push he could get way more speed. I think he decided to push here because he wanted to win with a gap to second, mostly to assure there was no doubt about who won this race. He didn’t want it close. I also think he may have been attempting a fastest lap for that grand slam. It wasn’t necessary, it was more just a show of skill, which is what Monaco is for. 

Oscar did push in those later laps as well, I think to see if he could keep up with Charles, not to pass but just to see if he had it. He didn’t. His tyres were worse off than Charles’ and this was reflected by their fastest lap times. Charles' fastest lap of his race was 1:15.162 on lap 70, and Oscar’s fastest was 1:16.281. So a full second off Charles, that second is really reflective of the tyre management from both of them. This was further highlighted by Charles finishing 7 seconds ahead of Oscar. That was a gap that reflected their tyre management over the race. Charles was able to push to get that gap(I think he wanted to win by a pretty good margin) Oscar did push, especially at first to try to keep pace with Charles but he did not have it in his tyres. That final gap is the real reflection of the difference between the two on their tyre management over the race. 

From the start of the weekend to the checkered flag, Charles made it clear that he was the best driver this weekend, in multiple facets of technical skill. He put together a stunning qualifying lap, and followed that up with his superior tyre management and fine control of the SF-24.

Now on to the only real strategy concern of Charles’ race. The possibility of Lando pitting if the gap between George and Lando became great enough that Lando would be able to pit without giving up any places. What was the risk here, and would it have affected the outcome of the race if Lando had pit? The risk was that Lando would get fresh tyres, and with a field of cars all operating on old tyres that’s an advantage, and that he wouldn’t have to give up track position to do it. So he’d come out behind Carlos on fresh mediums. The concern would have been that he’d be able to overtake Carlos and then Charles would have two Mclaren’s behind. But Oscar couldn’t pass Charles. We saw Charles late in the race had the pace to be able to defend if he’d been seriously threatened. And this would have required Lando to pass Carlos, which we saw Max couldn’t overtake George when Max was on much fresher tyres, so I highly doubt Lando was getting past Carlos, and I further doubt that Oscar would have let Lando by to attempt to attack Charles.

I think it’s very likely that the moment Lando pit George would have increased his pace and possibly taken the spot. So it’s possible this would have just compromised Mclaren’s race and there was no real threat to Ferrari at all. The gap was fine so a little pushing from George was all it would take. 

One argument was that both Mclaren’s could have pushed Charles to go faster, and Charles would have had to wear his tyres more, but we saw in the data that Charles was managing best, so he’d likely have been able to respond to this. And again this is all acting on the assumption that Lando would be able to overtake Carlos which I really do not think was going to happen. Carlos has shown he can defend against a Mclaren. 

Also Charles was the one controlling the pace of the entire race. His pace was the one affecting Lando the most, not Carlos’, as Carlos pace was again dictated by Charles. That’s one of the key strategic advantages of getting pole in Monaco is that you get to set the pace of the race. Charles was the one in control of all 4 cars behind him, and the main car controlling both Mclarens. Carlos’ was making the smaller pace adjustments to both Mclarens to further refine the strategy and work off the control Charles was already exerting. Again excellent teamwork from both of them on this. But make no mistake about who was in the greatest amount of control and keeping Mclaren’s pace in check 

The biggest risk Lando posed was to Carlos’ race, not Charles’. And even then that is a big if. 

I fully believe that even if Carlos had been made to retire from the race, or had started further back Charles would have won. Oscar was faster than Lando and he tried putting pressure on Charles in the few places it was possible to do so, Charles defended and made it clear Oscar wasn’t getting by. Lando was not going to fare better than Oscar here, especially since his speed wasn’t as good as Oscar’s on this track. 

Make no mistake, I do believe Carlos played a key role. His work against the Mclaren’s allowed Charles to stay focused on his tyres and getting his pace just right instead of having to worry more about the cars behind him. I think he could have managed anyway, but not having to worry about all of those factors because his teammate was covering him is the kind of teamwork we want to see. But Carlos is not the reason Charles won, Charles won because he was fastest, and also made the fewest mistakes on this highly technical track, and also had the best tyre management. 

Now I will just take a moment to go over a few narratives forming around Charles’ win and performance. 

“Oscar was faster than Charles”(in reference to qualifying): No, if you put together all of Oscar’s fastest mini sectors they add up to a faster lap than Charles’. But that isn’t actually fast, mini sectors don’t mean anything if you can’t string them together into one lap. It takes skill to not only be fast but to be fast over one lap for qualifying in Monaco. Oscar was certainly fast, but he wasn’t the fastest. 

“It was a gifted win”: Monaco is often won in qualifying, the man who qualified the best, by a good margin is the one who won, that’s a win based on skill and speed, far from gifted. Also one’s team helping get a win isn’t gifted, that’s literally what a team is supposed to do. If you don’t understand that qualifying is a big part of winning Monaco I can’t help you. 

“Charles got lucky”: He won Monaco the way it’s usually won, by putting together the best qualifying lap. Luck had nothing to do with it. He didn’t gain any positions based on luck, he wasn’t faster based on luck, he didn’t run the cleanest race of the weekend based on luck, it takes skill to pull that off. 

Carlos

While this was Charles’ best performance all year, this race was also in my opinion one of Carlos’ best drives as well. Yes he’s had better results but the driving itself I think was better here. He really pulled off some great driving and was a key part of the team strategy to bring both Ferraris onto the podium. The only issue was in the first lap he would have been out on that puncture without the red flag, and that was in part his fault(he was the one attempting the pass so I place a little more responsibility for the contact on him) but after that his driving was quite good and he played very well into the team strategy. Not only that he did put together a very solid qualifying lap. 

In terms of team strategy Carlos’ job was to keep Lando behind, and also to put pressure on Oscar so that Oscar couldn’t ever fully try to attack Charles(especially in those early laps) However the key battle for Carlos was against Lando. Keeping Lando back, and at the correct pace was crucial as if it had been too much or too little Lando may have had the opportunity to pit which could have compromised Carlos’ race(unlikely but not impossible).

There are a few key moments I want to highlight where Carlos was really pulling it all together in this strategy. 

First was him holding off Lando in those early laps. The best opportunities for this race to overtake would have been the first 10-15 laps, and the final 10(depending on how a driver managed their tyres) , that is when they could afford to push the most, the middle of the race was all about keeping a certain pace. 

The second was in the final 10 laps when Carlos essentially ping ponged between lap times to keep a little pressure on Oscar while holding Lando back by the correct margin to prevent any chance he’d have to try to sneak a pit stop. The team helped Carlos manage this quite well and he did great here. 

He was mostly holding off Lando. Very rarely was he putting real pressure on Oscar. 

The data reflects this quite clearly.

The swinging lap times in lap 55 -67 are the ones where Carlos’ exerting his control over Lando, and the rest of the pack’s pace is most apparent. Other laps in the middle of the race also reflect this. Faster laps were to be sure to remind Oscar that he could apply pressure, and to prevent things from slowing too much, slower laps were to keep the pace correct, he didn’t want to give Lando the chance to take more control of the pace of the cars behind. Great strategy from Ferrari, and good pace control from Carlos to pull this off. 

I will say I am not sure about that attempt to get past Oscar on lap one that resulted in the puncture. On the one hand I get wanting to take the position, but also that’s so risky. I am not sure if that was a Ferrari strategy or if he made the move himself. I am doubtful Ferrari would risk something like that when both cars were already positioned so well, it was best to hold and manage from there rather than attempt the overtake which yes would have allowed full control of the front, but it also could have resulted in a collision which is more likely here, and that easily could have compromised Charles’ race as well. So I am unsure. I can see both approaches. I prefer the less risky one given Carlos was already in a good spot for himself and the team I don’t think it was worth the risk, and I mean I was right, it didn’t work for him. But fortunately he did get that bit of luck with the timing and his race after was really clean. 

Now let’s just cover a few narratives that have formed around Carlos’ race. 

“Carlos got lucky, he should have been out on that puncture at the restart”: No, the ruling that allowed him to keep P3 is consistent with previous rulings. He got a puncture after the red flag that triggered the race restart. Other teams, including Mclaren who are the main source of this complaint benefitted from being able to work on cars before the race restart as well, but it’s only unfair when Carlos benefits? 

“Carlos keeping the position was unfair”: No, it was consistent with the rules. It can feel unfair all it wants, but I wouldn’t claim it’s unfair, if this were to come up again and benefit a different team I suspect people would be saying something different. It was consistent with the rules, and that’s what we want to see, regardless of who benefits and who loses. 

Mclaren were the main team to claim that Carlos being allowed to start in his original position after the race restart was unfair. They aren’t reliable in this assessment, of course the rival team that stands the most to gain from Carlos being out is going to say this.

“Carlos got lucky”: Getting a tyre puncture at a specific time is a weird type of luck, but if you want to think that’s lucky I can’t stop you. If you are referring to him being allowed to keep his place that just came down to timing, and yes there was some luck with the timing there.

“Carlos should have been penalized for impeding during qualifying”: No, Carlos didn’t impede, Monaco is a narrow track and he got out of the way as soon as it was possible to do so. 

“Carlos should have been penalized for contact with Oscar in lap 1”: The contact wasn’t solely his fault, it was a result of hard racing on both their parts, and since it was lap one this isn’t penalized. 

“Carlos is the reason Charles won”: No. Carlos 100% aided in Charles’ race, as expected, he’s his teammate that’s what he’s supposed to do. But I am extremely confident that Charles still would have won without Carlos in P3. He helped, I detailed that, but to go this far is beyond a reach. 

Carlos' result combined with Charles put Ferrari firmly in P2 for the WCC and only 24 points behind Red Bull, and kept a healthy lead to Mclaren. And this result obviously put Charles even more firmly in P2 in the driver’s standings, 31 points behind Max, and 25 points ahead of Lando who is now in P3. All in all Ferrari is in a strong position in both standings, and with the direction the team and car are going I think this trend will continue. 

Monaco was yet another very strong finish for Ferrari. The fact both our drivers did well on this track is promising for what the SF-24 can do on street circuits. Monaco is a highly specific track but we did get some key takeaways about the strengths of our car this weekend, as well as the consistency of our drivers. 

I want to finish this section with some fun statistics about Charles and Ferrari in relation to this win. Because of the technical achievement and historic importance, Monaco poles and wins are always something teams love to highlight in their legacy. 

Ferrari has been on pole 13 times in Monaco. Of those 13, 3 of those poles were taken by Charles, making him responsible for 23% of Ferrari’s poles at Monaco. 

Charles is the Ferrari driver with the most poles at Monaco with 3, the second most is held by Michael Schumacher with 2 poles with Ferrari at Monaco (Schumacher holds a total of 3 Monaco poles including the one he achieved with Bennetton)

This pole was the 250th pole for Ferrari as a team. 

This was the 11th Monaco win for Ferrari. The last time Ferrari won in Monaco was Sebastian Vettel in 2017

This was Charles’ 6th career win, all of which he has achieved with Ferrari

Forza Ferrari

Data Analysis 

I covered Charles’ race and qualifying versus Oscar in his section, as that was key to understanding the story of his victory. This section is going to cover teammate comparisons as well as Ferrari to Mclaren comparisons. 

Here is a look at Charles compared to Carlos in qualifying.

Charles was ahead in every sector. Carlos was off Charles’ time by 2.5 tenths. The real difference came in the more technical areas in sectors 2 and 3. Carlos’ later braking style was not as suited to this track and it did cost him time on many key turns. He also did not achieve the same speeds on other turns and straights. It’s not a bad lap, again it’s a good showing, but this further highlights how good Charles’ lap was. 

And a full comparison of Mclaren to Ferrari in qualifying. As we all saw this was the real qualifying battle. Mclaren and Ferrari were the clear front runners during qualifying, the order was the only real question. And it seems that Ferrari had a slight edge, and that edge I will attribute in part to the car and in part to the skill of our drivers, because yes I think Charles and Carlos are better at Monaco than Lando and Oscar. And the qualifying results seem to reflect this. 

Carlos and Lando were extremely close. It came down to hundreths. And really Lando was on pace for a faster lap but a slight error into the final turn and lower speed on that final straight was where he lost that time to Carlos. It really came down to very tiny details. It was Lando’s P3 to lose, and well he lost it. Carlos put in a good lap, but Lando was going to get that P3 position if he’d been able to keep up the pace he’d set. 

Looking at them all the thing that stands out is Charles early braking, especially in the medium and low speed corners of sector three. As well as his better top speed on the final turns and straight, and higher speeds in a few key areas throughout the track. 

Mclaren

Another repeat of Mclaren’s best result so far this season with a 2-4. This time with Oscar getting his best result with that P2. 

Oscar

Yes Oscar took some damage due to his contact with Carlos on lap 1(that did get at least partially repaired during the race restart) however, I do not believe he would have been able to make the pass on Charles, or have produced enough pace to keep the pressure on for much longer than he did. The damage didn’t affect his race that much, so I don’t think without this damage his results would have been any different. In fact Mclaren said as much. He didn’t have the pace to be able to pull an overtake in Monaco, that’s a very tall order and wasn’t likely even in the best of conditions. And in spite of the damage he ran a very clean race, and this was a good learning curve for him in tyre management. 

Oscar was really showing that he’s the faster of the two Mclaren’s, or trying to make that point. I will be very interested to see if he can keep that up. Since he was faster on this highly technical track he has my attention(he already had it, but that lap was impressive)

Oscar made one real attempt at overtaking Charles, going into turn 10 around lap 8. He tested the possibility, and Charles responded very quickly. I think after that he didn't seriously consider risking it again.

Lando

Lando's race was mainly to put pressure on Carlos. The main point of interest for him strategy wise was whether or not Mclaren were going to try to pit him at a certain point for fresh tyres if the gap between him and George(who was about 17-18 seconds behind in P5) This pit possibility would have put Lando behind Carlos on fresher tyres.

However I actually do not believe Mclaren were seriously about to try this. It was considered, but given they had two good track positions I think it wasn't worth the risk. Lando wasn't going to be able to overtake Carlos even on newer tyres. The chances of that were slim to none, so it really wasn't worth the pit, which might have risked George upping the pace to try to pass while Lando was in the pits.

Would Lando have been able to put pressure on Carlos if he'd had fresher tyres? Yes. Would he have been able to pass Carlos? Highly unlikely.

"Lando was a threat to Charles' race": Not really. The worst he was going to be able to do was threaten Carlos and even that wasn't a massive concern. He wasn't going to be passing Carlos and Oscar and then catching Charles. This is Monaco, it isn't like other tracks where a much fresher set of tyres would equal being able to pass.

"Lando was going to be able to pass Carlos": Again highly unlikely. We saw something similar with Max on fresh tyres behind George. Max got within less than a second of George and couldn't make the pass. Lando wasn't getting past Carlos, who has been very competent defending against Mclarens.

Data Analysis

Continuing the theme of qualifying being key at Monaco let’s compare Oscar and Lando’s qualifying laps. 

Oscar was faster by a little over a tenth. I think that what this shows is that overall they were very close. The place Oscar was consistently better was sector 3, that’s where Lando wasn’t catching him. On the slows Lando was clearly better. And the rest it came down to little things. Oscar didn’t brake for as long in a few key areas, but on others he was more conservative than Lando on the throttle. There are a few points where Oscar was clearly faster, and the finer points of sector three where his braking and throttle application are what put him ahead. Oscar’s speed and the spots where he was braver on the brakes and got the timing better are what set him apart from Lando. But Lando’s experience also came through in a few areas, especially on how to handle those slows best. Overall a great lap from Oscar. I think in another year he will be even better here. 

I also think this highlights that the two Mclaren drivers are very close, probably the closest teammates on the grid right now as far as pace and speed goes. There are areas where Oscar is stronger and others where Lando has the edge. It’s going to be track and condition dependent that makes the differences between them this year. 

I also want to note that the fact Monaco is a low deg track played to Oscar’s favor. He is still getting mixed results in higher deg conditions, so this weekend was a good show of his skill without having to contend with high deg. 

Solid race for Mclaren. Oscar really showed his skill after several races where luck was not on his side. I think we will be seeing him on the podium quite a few more times this season.

Red Bull

So what happened to Red Bull this weekend? Because this is the first weekend when real weaknesses in their car are becoming a real problem. The most shocking thing was Checo qualifying P18(bumped up to P16 after the Haas DSQ, but to get an idea of the speed issue compared to the other cars the P18 is relevant)

Last year Max talked about one of the few weaknesses of the RB19, he mentioned this quite a lot, on tracks and post season; the issue being the car was not as strong on street circuits, especially when it came to the grip, taking curbs, and overall reliability for him. I think that because Red Bull was so dominant last year most people didn’t think much of this complaint, seeing it more as a nitpick rather than Max giving real serious insight into a problem with the car concept. Well, this year the field have caught up to Red Bull very quickly, and what was a minor problem last year compared to the rest of the field, is now far more significant. I don’t think these results are from the RB20 taking a step backwards, it’s more that Ferrari and Mclaren are catching up, and they don’t have the same problem as Red Bull on these street circuits. So now what was something Red Bull could manage is a genuine weakness that is becoming more highlighted by the rest of the field. 

What shocked me was not just that these are Red Bull’s weakest results for that car all season. It was also the gap between Checo and Max.

I think that the gap between Checo and Max in qualifying is likely the result of a gamble by Red Bull. They probably went with two different setups in qualifying, hoping one would pay off. Because they tried so many setups during all free practice sessions and nothing really worked. And it seems that Checo's was probably the more extreme and thus was either going to pay off for him or fall completely flat. Given the results and his reaction to qualifying we know how that gamble paid off. I think with Max they probably played it to whatever he wanted and also the setup where they got the closest to some good speed. It seems with Max they chose more stability and speed and lower ride height

That many places off indicates an issue in the setup, and not just Checo being that much slower than Max. Max is faster, but that’s the biggest gap there’s been between them I think ever? Especially without any damage. So that many places off is a symptom of something beyond Checo himself. Checo is a solid driver and he has been fast in that car. 

The problem isn’t aerodynamic. It’s mechanical. The relationship between the suspension and the required ride height for the curbs on this track. All weekend they tried different setup to mitigate the issue and nothing worked. The suspension being too stiff prevents it from absorbing the impact of bumps which leads to all that force being directed to the chassis. Which in turn leads to that bouncing. Every time they hit a curb they lost time, and every time they had to run a little wide to avoid a curb they lost time. It was a lose-lose and no amount of setup was mitigating enough. 

This is a track specific problem that upgrades likely will not be able to solve this season. We will probably see this again, likely on more street circuits as well as circuits with higher curbs and curbs that require a certain camber on the tyres. Since it was a problem in Singapore last year chances are we see Red Bull have issues there again. 

Max

During qualifying Max was on pace to actually place closer to Oscar’s time, but he hit a wall and that cost him the attempt. So he actually did have the potential for a top 4 if not a top 3 time. I think at the very least he’d have placed ahead of George. That error cost him, and it was very much due to the instability in the ride of the suspension. So he ended up qualifying P6, and that’s the position he held the entire race. 

The only thing interesting about Max’s actual race was when he pit for medium tyres, and came up behind George who was still on old mediums. There was a chance to maybe attempt an overtake. So why didn’t it happen? Well I think the reason is pretty simple that the reliability of the RB20 on this track wasn’t good enough to be able to attempt an overtake in Monaco. I think Max would have been able to make the pass if he’d had more faith in the car, he very likely had the pace, but being unable to handle corners well, when those are areas overtaking can be done really made it impossible for him.  (edit: originally said George was on old hards, when he was in fact on old mediums)

Sergio

Because the Haas cars were disqualified from qualifying, they started in P19 and P20 from the pit lane. So they started behind Checo who originally qualified P18 and started P16 because of the DSQs. On the first lap Kevin made an attempt to pass Checo on the outside and clipped Checo’s rear, causing him to spin and slide down the track and along the barrier shredding his car and slamming into the barrier. This crash also resulted in both Haas cars being damaged and having to retire. 

Thankfully the safety features on the car protected Checo and he was able to walk away relatively unharmed, no major injuries reported. 

However there was an injury that resulted from this crash. A photographer who was behind the barrier Checo crashed into had to be taken to the hospital after sustaining injuries from debris that was essentially blasted through the barriers. This raises a very serious safety concern. The amount of debris that made it through could have resulted in worse injuries, and the opposite side of the barriers should probably be improved to prevent a bystander from being injured again in the future. The photographer is alright the injuries were minor. But a bystander being injured at all is of serious concern as far as track safety goes. 

Checo had the racing line in this incident. He was not at fault. Kevin was the one attempting to make the pass and the one who made contact. He didn’t have enough room and tried to force his way by on the outside anyway. His front wheel made contact with Checo’s rear wheel and a bit of his suspension and that is what caused him to fully lose the rears and spin across the track.

Checo was on the inside, he moved to the middle, all while ahead of Kevin, and by the time Kevin had put his wheels next to Checo the gap between Checo and the wall was less than a car's width. Additionally with Valtteri directly ahead there was nowhere for Kevin to really go had he made that pass. He didn't have the racing line, he didn't have room, and he didn't have space after Checo. This was all information that he had before attempting that move. It was beyond bold, it was reckless and sloppy.

I think it’s very clearly Kevin’s fault. So why wasn’t he penalized? Well, the stewards felt it wasn’t anything bad enough in terms of the driving to warrant a penalty, and since it was the first lap they attributed it to hard racing. But is this just hard racing? What is the limit of what they will permit before it gets penalized on lap 1. I am usually a proponent of “let them race” in lap one, but this was way too far. I do not want to find out what the limit is if something like this goes without penalty. Checo is very fortunate that he wasn’t injured. It could have been so much worse. 

Data Analysis

The data is pretty clear in reflecting Red Bull’s struggles. Here is Max vs Checo’s qualifying laps.

Max was just able to achieve better top speeds. And had better racing line through the areas where the curbs were an issue. As I stated above I also think this gap is due to a significant setup difference between the two. But it’s still interesting to see where the differences are under that assumption, one setup was clearly better than the other. I also think that Max’s ability to mitigate the issues was much greater than Checo’s.

What really highlights the problems Red Bull were having with the reliability and control around this track is comparing Max to Charles.

Here the control Charles had on the corners really highlights where the problems were with the Red Bull on those same corners. Max was braking much later, and I think that’s a result of him having to go around the curbs more. Also Charles in the Ferrari had better top speeds on most of the straights. But those straights are where the Red Bull made up some time. The car was still fast, it was the corners and the fine control this track demands where the car was struggling. 

Red Bull still have a strong car. But it is far from perfect, and with other teams improving rapidly in key areas, the RB20 is going to become more track specific for performance. Which isn’t good for their reliability in the standings, but highly promising for anyone looking to beat them. 

Haas

This was Haas’ worst result of the season. Worst result in the season for any team period. From getting both their drivers disqualified from qualifying because they didn’t have the proper rear wing measurements and thus were flagged for a technical violation, to both cars DNFing due to the fault of one of their own drivers, this weekend was a failure by the team on multiple fronts.

Haas failed both their drivers for failing the ensure the rear wing was in technical compliance. I don’t even know how they made that mistake. But this was no fault of the drivers. Both Kevin and Nico had to start the race from the pitlane and their qualifying results were deleted. 

Then on the first lap Kevin attempted a pass on Checo and this led to him not only crashing with Checo and ending his own race, the crash was big enough it took out his teammate as well. Kevin was at fault here. Checo had the racing line, there was not enough space on the outside for that pass when Kevin made that attempt. Checo was under no real obligation to move. Kevin went for it anyway and the resulting crash was extremely dangerous for both drivers. 

I explained above why the stewards didn’t give Kevin a penalty for this. His actions fell under “hard racing” which they are far more lenient on in lap one. However I think there is more to this. I think that this incident was too far to be considered “hard racing” especially when the fault is so clearly skewed as well. We had another lap one incident that was clearly one driver’s fault that did result in a penalty with Esteban. So why not Kevin?

I suspect that the stewards were more reluctant to issue the penalty because it would have resulted in a one race ban for Kevin, and they did not want that to be the outcome. That isn’t something that should be considered when looking at individual incidents, but I think that wanting to avoid him getting that ban was a reason for more lenience here, which to me is unacceptable. This is speculation on my part, so take it as conjecture, but to me it makes sense. 

Overall bad weekend for Haas. 

Alpine

There are two things worth noting about Alpine’s weekend, first Pierre got their best qualifying result all year coming in P10 and also secured his first points of the season. Big for this team that was struggling heavily at the beginning of the season. It’s looking like they will be at least challenging for some more points in the future. Great result and driving from Pierre, that qualifying lap he produced was extremely solid.

The other thing of note was the lap one collision between Pierre and Esteban. Esteban qualified P11 right behind Pierre in P10. Right before the tunnel he tried to pass Pierre on the inside and then in doing so pushed Pierre wide, on a track like Monaco the only place for Pierre to go when forced wide was into the wall, so he rammed into the back of Esteban, damaging Esteban’s car and his own. Esteban had to retire from the race, Pierre was able to race upon the restart having take minor damage. 

This collision was 100% Esteban’s fault. Apparently he was told by the team not to attempt a pass on Pierre, and on a track like Monaco risking both cars for an overtake like that was just reckless. 

Now it has come to my attention that while yes this incident was Esteban’s fault there was more leading up to it than him just doing this randomly. There had been more back and forth with him and Pierre earlier in the lap and also Esteban was getting squeezed by other cars before he tried that pass on Pierre. So this was in part from some crowding, it wasn't just he decided to barge past his teammate randomly or purely out of ego, there was a little more there. I do still think that this doesn’t excuse the move. He had room and should have stayed back instead of attempting a pass, and the degree to which he forced Pierre wide was also unacceptable, especially on a track with no runoff. I wanted to be sure to be fair and note that there was more context than the pass and resulting contact that has been making the rounds in coverage of the collision. 

Esteban was given a 10 second penalty that was increased to a 5 place starting grid penalty in the next race since he did not race on the restart, his car had sustained too much damage to be ready in time for the race restart.

So a mixed weekend for Alpine, good results for Pierre, and more than a few issues with Esteban.  

Mercedes

Mercedes actually had one of their best races in terms of results. George started P5 and finished P5, Lewis started P7 and finished P7. That P5 is the highest GP finish they’ve had since George came in P5 back in Bahrain. And Lewis was higher here so overall good result for the team in points. Lewis also set the fastest lap of the race, and this lap was actually significant because it was another record broken by him. With this fastest lap scored Lewis Hamilton now holds the record for the most fastest laps scored for a single team with 54 for Mercedes, just beating Michael Schumacher who scored 53 fastest laps with Ferrari. 

George was solid at controlling the pace of the cars behind, including keeping Max off, even after Max had pit for fresh tyres. Lewis maximized his points given the position.

I think that Lando pitting was something Mercedes were almost hoping for. They also played a role in creating that gap. Because there was a chance that if Lando pit George could speed up and take a place. I suspect this is very likely because it’s one of the few possibilities the entire dynamic of the race would have presented to take a place like this. So this strategy may have been an attempt to tempt Mclaren into pitting. 

All around a good weekend for Mercedes. Their car seemed to be better suited to this track. The upgrades seem to be paying off in some capacity because both drivers were at least competitive in qualifying and free practice. 

There is still something odd going on that Lewis pointed out between the car in free practice vs qualifying, he said it just is almost a guarantee of losing 2 tenths of pace. Which this is likely due to a larger car setup issue. Unsure of what or how they might be able to go about fixing it. But the car does have some more potential than we saw at the beginning of the season. And both drivers do seem to be more comfortable. Yes George noted a lot of bouncing, but he also tied for his best result so clearly something was working. 

Williams

This was Williams' best race. Alex qualified P9 and finished P9 bringing Williams’ first points of the season. And on the Monaco track to boot, that’s a really solid performance from Alex. 

Logan also showed improvement from his Monaco performance last year. Of course the big upset was the fact he did out-qualify Checo in the Red Bull, this was certainly a symptom of something very off about the Red Bull and less to do with Logan's speed, but still that result had to feel good from his perspective. And after the Haas cars were both disqualified he was bumped up to P15 from his original position in P17. He finished in P15. This was his second best grand prix result of the season, after his P14 in Jeddah.

I also want to note that Logan ran with Williams 2023 rear wing, because apparently they didn’t have enough parts. I really don’t know how this keeps happening. He did well in spite of this, and clearly that still was a better setup than whatever Red Bull did with Checo’s car. 

Anyway, the Williams upgrades do seem to have finally yielded them some results.

Final Thoughts

The question everyone had after this race was “Do we have a title fight?” And the answer to me is yes. In the constructor’s Red Bull is in trouble, especially when it comes to Ferrari. Checo having a few mid to bad results, and Max not being on the podium have left the standings much closer. 24 points, that’s all there is, and if Charles and Carlos keep putting in the reliable top performances they have been, that gap will continue to close. 

Okay that was the constructors, but what about the driver’s championship, do we have a title fight there? Well the gap to Max is a bit wider. I think that in a few more races we can make that call. If Red Bull continue to struggle on the car setup and Max doesn’t start pulling in consistent wins like he did at the beginning of the season then we will have a title fight on our hands. I think also with more Ferrari upgrades coming in Silverstone this will also possibly put Ferrari more ahead. If those upgrades add more speed, as they are aimed to do then Charles will have a car that he can consistently challenge Max in. So there’s more at play for the WDC title, but we are close to it being a real possibility. 

This race was a career highlight for Charles. And a privilege to get to watch live.

Monaco never going to forget this grand prix. Ferrari isn’t going to forget this race. And Charles is always going to remember this win. History was made.

That’s all I have, see you all in Canada!

[stujet9rainshine-blog]

JimmyTimmy Day 2!

Starcrossed Lovers

Rated T

Words 5462

Heavy Angst, Hopeful ending, Timmy forgets everything on his 18th birthday, last kiss, second chances, romance, dates,

(This isn't edited like my fics normally are, you bare with that fact. When I post it on AO3 it'll be polished)

The song I was listening to on repeat writing this.

Timmy had spent years convincing himself he’d never get this. That he couldn’t.

That was the deal, right? He could have a childhood full of magic, full of adventure, full of everything he ever wanted—but at 18, it would all be gone. And not just the magic.

Everything tied to it.

Every wish. Every moment.

Every person.

Jimmy.

Timmy knew this. He had come to terms with it. He had spent years accepting that no matter what his heart wanted, this—this thing happening right now, in front of him—was something he wasn’t allowed to have.

And then Jimmy Neutron went and ruined everything.

Because Jimmy was standing in front of him, fidgeting with his sleeves, adjusting his glasses, shifting his weight in that way he only did when he was actually, genuinely nervous.

And then, in a quiet but steady voice, he said:

"Timmy, would you—would you want to go out with me?"

And just like that, everything Timmy had spent years preparing for fell apart.

Because oh. Oh.

Of all the things Timmy had prepared for—this wasn’t one of them.

He had prepared for heartbreak. For loss. For the quiet, creeping sadness of watching the clock tick down to the day he wouldn’t remember Jimmy anymore.

He hadn’t prepared for Jimmy wanting him back.

Hadn’t prepared for Jimmy looking at him like this, hopeful and nervous and so, so sincere.

Hadn’t prepared for his own heart screaming at him to say yes.

He should say no. He should.

He should spare them both.

But Timmy wasn’t strong enough for that.

He never stood a chance.

So he smiled.

And he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to."

And just like that, he was doomed.

Jimmy's smile was worth everything in that moment. “Oh, I'm so glad you said yes.” He reached out and grabbed Timmy hands, “I tried to run calculations on that statical probably you'd stay yes. But emotions are so hard to qualify and the only thing I could reason is that the only way to have a non zero outcome was to not ask. So, statically I had to ask.”

Timmy felt his heart to that stupid thing in his chest. Where it best sideways and sent a sharp bite through his chest. “You're rambling, Nerdtron.”

Jimmy promptly clamped his mouth shut. Then a nervous, sharp chuckle escaped him. “I was, wasn't I?”

“Definitely,” Timmy squeezed the hands in his own, “and just so you know, Mr. Always know the data. There was never any chance less than 100% that I’d say yes.”

Jimmy laughed and pulled Timmy to his chest. 

Yeah, it was at that moment Timmy knew he was well and truly doomed.

~

Timmy didn't know what dating Jimmy was going to be like. He had no idea. Being friends with Jimmy has always been easy. Like incredibly so, since the first time they truly hung out and built Shirley. It had been easy. 

Dating Jimmy? It wasn't just easy, it was natural. Like it was his they were always meant to be. 

Jimmy always threw his full self into things like his inventions and being a hero. He did the same thing wholeheartedly with dating Timmy.

Timmy was spoiled. Jimmy was a buy you chocolates, help you study, paint your nails for you, twirl you around to your favorite song kind of boyfriend.

And Timmy was so fully, completely hopelessly lost in it. And he did everything he could to return it tenfold.

He made sure to grab books he thought Jimmy would like. Bought him treats, made sure he ate, brushed his hair, helped him keep the lab clean.

Though he would steal Jimmy away from his lab as often as he could. Pulling him along on dates with bouquets of flowers and his full undivided attention.

He had to give everything he could to Jimmy, because he had a time limit.

He knew their days were numbered. He had a lifetime of love to shove into what would barely be two years.

Two years that had to count for everything.

~

It was completely natural for everyone around them as well. No one was surprised when Jimmy and Timmy were caught holding hands and running to the Candy Bar together to share a milkshake. 

No one was surprised when Jimmy was caught wearing Timmy’s pink hoodie.

Cindy thought it was the most hilarious turn of events in her life. She couldn't even be mad. 

Jimmy's parents adored Timmy. They loved that their son had someone who brought such joy and chaos to his life.

Timmy thinks he'll also miss Mrs. Neutron's pies.

Though there are a few things that Timmy doesn't think he'll miss. The strained relationship between Jimmy and Timmy’s parents was one. 

Jimmy never really got over the fact the Turners couldn't tell them apart when they were younger. So, he didn't like visiting Dimmesdale in actuality. 

Jimmy had mastered teleportation technology back when they were still kids, so the gap despite being several states apart from each other wasn't that big. Jimmy would pop into Timmy's bedroom in secret several days after Timmy got back from school.

Jimmy of course had graduated high school by the time he was 15. He ran a business now, sold and patented inventions. But he was still a kid at heart and loved watching movies and going to the comic book store in Dimmesdale. 

They'd go to concerts and games. Jimmy enjoyed holding Timmy’s hand and walking through the mall. Several people that Timmy knew from  school would ask about Jimmy every once in a while, almost in disbelief that Timmy had found somebody. 

Jimmy would always brag about how wonderful Timmy was, as if Timmy wasn’t dating one of the smartest people on the planet. 

It was perfect.

~

Timmy caught himself looking at the calendar. His heart suddenly slamming in his chest with a fierceness that made him flinch.

Three months.

The time had slipped through his fingers like sand no matter how desperately he tried to hold onto it. He was watching the sand at the top of the hour glass reduce to the last few granules. 

“I'm… I'm out of time,” Timmy whispered into the walls of his room. His voice choked up and broken. 

Cosmo and Wanda appeared and placed gentle hands on his shoulders. Wanda spoke up first, her voice gentle, but firm. “You need to tell Jimmy the truth.”

Timmy let out a shuddering breath, “I know. I just don't know how.” He shook his head, “I don't want to ruin the time we have left.”

Cosmo let out a small gasp, looking between Wanda and Timmy with wide eyes. For once he didn't say anything. 

“You can't just disappear, Kiddo,” Wanda reminded. 

“Maybe I could leave something for him?” Timmy rushed out, “something he could open after my birthday?”

Cosmo and Wanda exchanged a look. It was the most Timmy had said about telling Jimmy the truth.

“Yeah. I could make a little box of letters, pictures, and knickknacks. So he'll always have something of me to keep with him. Even after I'm gone,” Timmy's voice cracked and shook through the sentence. “

Wanda nodded, “that sounds like a good idea, Sport,” she displayed her wand, “how shall we start?”

Timmy gently lowered her wand, “no magic for this. It has to be real. It has to be from me.”

Then the hardest three months of his life began.

~

Gathering little things for the box was the easier part. A ticket stub, a little ring Jimmy win him at an arcade, the poofer teleporter, one of Timmy's pink hats, and several other bits and bobbles. 

To anyone else, it would look like a five year olds treasure chest for a game of pirates. But Timmy knew every single item had weight. Every single knickknack would have meaning to Jimmy. 

Then he letters? Those weren't easy. Those took every fiber of his courage to put the words on paper. He'd write something every chance he got. Adding more and more paper to the box as the time slipped forward. Several of them were a bit tear stained.

But Jimmy? He was mostly unaware. Though, he could see something was off. Timmy was acting a bit differently. 

Hugs would linger longer, he'd fall asleep in the lap watching Jimmy work. Dates were more personal now, less going out and more nights cuddled up in the same ean bag chair playing games and talking until the sun came up. 

Timmy couldn't get enough. It would never be enough. It was worse as he realized that if their time together didn't have an expiration date, the box would be a great way to propose. 

It was random moments of what ifs and what could have been that almost broke Timmy to tell the truth to Jimmy's face. But he couldn't ruin their numbered days. 

“Hey, Jimmy?” Timmy asked as he wrapped his arms around Jimmy's neck from where he was sitting at his computer console.

Jimmy paused in his work and leaned to turn his attention fully to Timmy, “what's up, love?”

Timmy could help but feel like his smile was watery, “your birthday is coming up. What do you want to do? Pick anything or anywhere and I'll make it happen. You'll be nineteen, the musical coming age number. It's gotta be good.”

Jimmy laughed, as he made a dramatic gesture of thinking really hard. “I don't know. Don't you have school?”

Timmy blew a raspberry, “I'll skip a few days. No one’ll notice. My grades are pretty good,” he poked Jimmy's temple, “thanks to my boyfriend being the smartest and most patient man on the planet.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, “I suppose I should try to talk you out of that,” but he sighed with his lips twitching from a suppressing smile, “though I know that tone. You've already made up your mind and even I, the great Jimmy Neutron, can't out stubborn Timmy Turner.”

Timmy laughed, “see? You've learned!” He placed a smacking kiss on Jimmy check, “so, what comes to mind?” 

Jimmy spun around and pulled Timmy into a huge and buried his face into the crook of Timmy's neck, “anywhere with you is good.”

Timmy chuckled as his cheeks warmed and his heart swelled in his chest. “Ah, that's not an answer, Nerdtron.”

Jimmy pulled back and blue eyes met blue, “okay. Why don't we plan a trip to somewhere romantic like Paris or Venice?” Distance didn't matter since they could teleport them anywhere across the world. Jimmy with his machines and Timmy with his magic. 

“Paris?” Timmy laughed, though the sound was warm and disbelieving, “the city of love?” 

“Of course,” Jimmy grinned, “where else would I want to take a special birthday vacation with the love of my life than in the city of love.”

“Ah, I hate France,” Cosmo muttered from where he was hiding as a pair of headphones. It was followed by an ouch. Wanda must have done something. 

Timmy felt the laughing turn a little broken 

God, he was going to miss this. 

~

It was only days before Timmy would turn eighteen. Days. Single digits. Time was out.

Timmy promptly decided to skip school that week, he even got his mom to sign a note excusing it. Hell, she probably didn't even read it, but that didn't matter in the end. 

He teleported to Jimmy's lab with two bags packed and his wild buck tooth grin in full display. “Hey, almost birthday boy!” 

Jimmy startled and turned around from a machine he was building. He lifted up his welder's mask with a brilliant grin. “Oh, hey, Starshine. I wasn't expecting you until later.”

Timmy blew a raspberry and flicked his hand with dismissal, “pssssh, me doing the something expected, never!”

Jimmy crossed his arms and smirked, “you're really skipping school for my birthday, huh?”

Timmy walked up closer and smiled down at Jimmy's slightly shorter frame, “I'm not skipping I got the next week excused.”

Jimmy blinked as he took off the welder's mask, “the whole week?” 

Timmy nodded and leaned forward smacking a kiss on Jimmy's lips, “the whole week, just me and you!”

Jimmy rolled his eyes before he reached out and pulled Timmy into into an embrace, “you are the most extra man alive.”

“Oh, definitely,” Timmy grinned, “and you love the most extra man alive, and I've somehow managed to bag the smartest. So, it's only fair.”

Jimmy just melted into the hug.

Timmy's heart was screaming, but he swallowed down the hurt, “So, you ready to get back for our trip to Paris?” 

Jimmy pulled back just enough to blink, “you really planned a trip to Paris?” 

“Of course!” Timmy declared and spun Jimmy around once, “I told you anything or anywhere and you picked Paris. So to Paris we will go!”

“Incredible,” Jimmy whispered in awe, his dark blue eyes sparkling. 

Yeah, that was the look Timmy was going to keep on his face until the last possible second. 

~

They teleported to Paris, using magic this time. Jimmy wasn't going to lift a finger. 

They ended up in front of a nice hotel near the Eiffel tower. 

Timmy had been here in some chaotic and wild and magical shenanigans. But this felt real, simple.

He looked around and caught Jimmy's wide eyes as he took in the city. It was a worthwhile expression. 

Sure, Jimmy had had his own share of wild adventures and business trips under his belt. The scientist sometimes forgot to just enjoy things. 

Timmy was good at reminding him to live.

Who would Timmy even be after the magic was gone? Who would Jimmy become after he was gone?

Timmy shook his head, forcing the melencoloy away. “So, Nerdtron,” he drug out grabbing one of Jimmy's hands, “welcome to the city of love!”

Jimmy beamed as he matched Timmy's eyes. “It's definitely only the city of love since I'm here with you.”

Timmy felt as if he'd taken one of cupid's arrows to his chest. “Oh, that was sappy!”

“Says the guy who's taking his boyfriend to Paris for his birthday.” 

“Ssssh!” Timmy flushed, “that's a secret. I have a reputation.”

“The only reputation you have is for being incredibly gay,” Jimmy teased with a kiss, “lead the way Romeo.”

Timmy caught himself flinching at the irony. “Of course!” He gestured wildly to the hotel and started the process of checking them in. Something he wouldn't have been able to do without magic. But cosmo and Wanda were determined to also make this the perfect week as well.

Jimmy just took everything in as the went to a really nice room. “You've outdone yourself, Turner.”

Timmy threw his suitcases onto the bed with a flop, “I told you. Only the best this week.”

Jimmy just smiled as he pulled Timmy into a huge and twirled him around. Jimmy wasn't strong exactly, but his need to be dramatic at times outweighed the laws of physics.

Timmy chuckled and held on tight for several reasons. “Okay, okay!” He laughed with his whole body before Jimmy put him down. “You ready to go exploring?”

“I'm ready to go anywhere with you,” Jimmy said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Lead the way, Starshine.”

And Timmy did. He grabbed Jimmy's callused hands from years of working on machines and led them into the streets of Paris for their final adventure together.

~

And it was an adventure of a lifetime. Timmy and Jimmy practically sprinting up the stairs to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Timmy leading the charge while making fun of his desk bound boyfriend. Kissing at the top and twirling around like the movies.

They went to more places to eat than they could name. They both nodded to the idea that French food was next level. Timmy absolutely ate snails and Jimmy watched equally impressed and horrified.

Timmy terrorized at least three mimes. Cosmo definitely helped with that. 

Timmy insisted that they get a portrait done by a street painter. Jimmy complained that it was silly, but his blush and smile when the artist gave them little canvas proved he felt otherwise.

Then they spent an entire day in the Louvre and Timmy had a blast and Jimmy found it interesting. They did get in trouble when Timmy let out a cackle and tried to high five the Mona Lisa. Jimmy was horrified and also tried to stop his wild boyfriend. When they were lectured and given a warning, Timmy walked away with a grin. “Worth it.” Jimmy let out a long suffering sigh. 

Then there was the afternoon on the boat floating down the Seine. It was cheesy as hell and very touristy, but Timmy could care less as Jimmy held his hand and rested his head on his shoulder. There was music drifting around them and Timmy fully believes it was the closest thing to true magic he's experienced.

Then there were the locks. They walked by them hand and hand and Jimmy immediately intrigued by the oddity of a reinforced bridge covered with thousands of locks. They looked it up together and Jimmy lit up like a Christmas tree. Timmy actually felt his stomach drop. 

Couples locked locks into the bridge and threw away the keys into the river to signal everlasting love. 

“We have to do this,” Jimmy said as he pushed his glasses up, “it's tradition, apparently.”

Timmy smiled to the best of his ability. “Yeah, we should do that.”

Jimmy immediately and efficiently found a person selling locks and produced a laser from his bag and immediately carved into the metal a little ‘TT+JN”. He presented the lock and keys with a wide smile. Timmy felt his heart breaking as they went to the fence and clicked the lock in place amounts the ocean of others little locks. 

Then with a key each the tossed them into the river with two little plops.

“I'm so glad we met,” Jimmy declared like it was truest words he's ever uttered.

Timmy swallowed around the lump in his throat, “me too, Jimmy.” And those were the trust words he's ever spoken.

~

Then as they came back to the hotel on the final night it was time.

Timmy was going to be 18 when the sun came up and it was going to be over. And Timmy didn't know what to think of all the emotions that welled up the second the door to the hotel clicked shut.

“This has been the greatest birthday present of my life!” Jimmy declared to the room as a whole. His back to Timmy. 

Timmy felt his hands shake a little bit. “I'm so glad,” his voice shook. 

Jimmy lowered his hands slowly as he turned around. He must have heard or seen something that set off his boyfriend's senses. “You okay, Starshine?” 

Timmy didn't answer, he deflected because he didn't want to lie and say he was fine. “I've actually got one more gift for you.”

Jimmy's brows scrunched together as he walked back to Timmy. “You sound sad about it.”

Timmy shook his head, “it's a secret. So, once I give it to you, you have to promise to wait until you wake up on my birthday to open it.”

Jimmy took Timmy's hands, “a gift for me for your birthday?” 

Timmy chuckled as he squeezed his boyfriend’s rough hands, running his thumb over the knuckles trying to memorize the texture. “Yeah, it's extra special that way.” Timmy pulled back and went to his bag and took a deep breath as he grabbed the box. He put the last letter in there that morning while Jimmy was still sleeping. 

Timmy stood up and grinned. He hoped his face didn't betray the fact he was handing over his entire childhood over to Jimmy in a wrapped up cardboard box. As if he wasn't handing over an entire life he wouldn't even remember living.

Jimmy took it with a shake of his head, “only you'd get me a gift for your birthday.”

“What can I say?” Timmy chuckled, “I'm romantic like that.”

Jimmy placed the box in his suitcase and then walked up to Timmy and took his head into his hands. “What's wrong? I know something's wrong. You look too sad for you to be okay.”

Timmy out his hand over Jimmy's and let out a wet chuckle. The tears were threatening to escape, “I just… I just don't want it to be over.”

Jimmy caressed Timmy’s cheek, “all the best things must come to an end.”

Then Timmy couldn't hold it in anymore and he leaned into the hand and tears finally fell. Jimmy has no idea how tight he was. This was the best thing to ever happen to him and it was always doomed to end. “Yeah, you're right, Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighed and pulled Timmy into a warm kiss. “It'll be okay.” 

Timmy wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to a hug like it was the last one. His face buried into Jimmy's neck. The tears spilling onto his boyfriend's soft shirt. “Hey, Nerdtron. Can you promise me something?”

Jimmy wrapped his arms around Timmy and help him like he was his entire universe. “Of course, Timmy.”

“No matter what happens, can you promise me that you'll be okay? No matter what, you'll still be you?” Timmy had to choke the words out. 

Jimmy tried to pull back but Timmy just held on tighter. 

“Please?” Timmy murmured, his fingers digging into the fabric of Jimmy's hoodie. 

Jimmy held on, “of course, I promise.”

Timmy let out a sob. 

~

They snuggled under the hotel blankets after Timmy let the tears run out. He made sure he made Jimmy laugh a couple of more times. Not wanting Timmy crying was his last memory of him. He'd worked too hard to prevent that, but he had to mourn it just a little bit. He couldn't hold it back now that it was here. There was no turning back the hands of time.

Then after whispering sweet nothings to each other, Jimmy fell asleep in Timmy's arms.

Timmy waited, perfectly still until he was for certain that Jimmy was asleep. “Hey, Cosmo? Wanda?” He called them for his last couple of wishes. 

They appeared in a poof. Wanda, pink eyes were red rimmed and her face somber. Cosmo had a quivering lip and silent tears running down his face. 

“Yeah, Sport?” Wanda asked quietly.

Timmy swallowed and looked down to Jimmy's peaceful sleeping form. “Hey, Jimmy. I need you to know that even when I don't remember you, that I still love you.”

Jimmy smiled in his sleep. 

Timmy wiped at his face before he looked up at his fairies. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, “I wish for Jimmy and all of his things to be back at his lab. Make sure he's tucked and comfy as well.”

Cosmo and Wanda wiped at their faces as they lifted their wands. Then with a poof, Jimmy was gone.

Timmy arms collapsed around the empty space and the tears streamed down his cheeks and before he could even say anything Cosmo and Wanda had him wrapped in an all consuming hug. 

They all just wept together, mourning the loss that Timmy wouldn't remember. 

They stayed like that for several minutes before they realized time was almost out. 

“Okay, okay,” Timmy pulled back, “I wish to go back to my room with all my stuff put away and back to normal.”

Then with a poof Timmy was back in Dimmesdale and he watched his bags unpack themselves and his room looked like it always did.

Timmy stared at his blue room and then to the clock. It was ten until midnight. 

He looked at his godparents and smiled, “ready to knock me out?”

“You don't gotta say it like that, Sport,” Wanda couldn't help but chuckle.

“‘Course, I do,” Timmy smirked, “I wouldn't be me without a little chaos.”

Then with a care of loving parents, Cosmo and Wanda tucked Timmy into bed and with a little bit of magic. The pink hat wearing boy fell asleep and Wanda and Cosmo each gave him a kiss on his forehead before the clock chimed midnight and they poofed back to fairy world.

~

Jimmy woke up slowly then all at once. He shot up in bed as he took in his bedroom. 

“What?” He asked the room at large. He glanced around looking for Timmy. His bags were stacked at the end of his bed. The only indication that the trip had happened.

He flopped out of bed and rubbed his eyes. He fumbled for his phone, it was on the charger where he normally left it. 

He picked it up and looked for Tommy's contact, but it was gone.

He scrolled through his phone and everything related to Timmy was just missing.

He scrambled, now wide awake, to his console in his lab to backup and recover the files. But there was nothing it was as if they were never there.

“What did you do, Timmy?” He muttered as started to panic. Timmy had been so upset last night and Jimmy couldn't figure out why. Did he just get…dumped?

He suddenly remembered the present that Timmy insisted he waited to open until today. He quickly ripped open his suitcases and found the pink box all wrapped up chaotically.

He methodically peeled the wrapping paper away and started at the lid of the box that with Timmy chaotic hand writing.

To: Jimmy Neutron, the love of my life.

From: Timmy Turner

He pulled the lid off and let out a gasp. The box was filled with letters and knicknacks.

Things from the entire time they had been dating, and few even from before. 

The poofer teleporter, ticket stubs, a ring Jimmy has won for Timmy at the arcade, one of Timmy’s pink hats. Then there were so many letters. 

Jimmy pulled out the stack and found one labeled: Read First.

He cautiously unfolded the letter and in very neat script, for Timmy's handwriting was there.

Hey Jimmy, 

First thing I want to say is that I'm sorry and that none of this is your fault.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I couldn't say it to your face. 

As of my 18th birthday I will no longer remember who you are. Let me explain.

Jimmy eyes darted through the words in a rapid pace. He couldn't believe his eyes. 

Magic? 

Fairies? 

Cosmo and Wanda? 

Danny Rules? Fairy Law?

Timmy explained everything in great detail. And everything clicked into place.

Every quirk, every weird ability, ever single oddity and impossibility explained in one heart wrenching letter. 

Then Jimmy grabbed the next one. The handwriting wasn't nearly as neat and he could see where a few words were smudged from tears. Every memory written down in detail.

Letter after letter Jimmy read his entire relationship with Timmy written in ink. 

Every moment of Timmy's childhood was preserved on paper for Jimmy to keep alone. 

The tears were unstoppable and the rage that came with the unfairness of it all struck his heart in a way he didn't know he could feel.

He was fuming, trying to come up with a solution anything he could think of to fix this. But he didn't know anything about magic. Magic wasn't supposed to even be real. It was an impossibility. 

Then before he could spiral any harder he heard a familiar poof. His head whipped around to see Cosmo and Wanda. Tommy's holograms… no his fairies.

Wanda floated forward, her face pinched and sad. “Hey, Jimmy,” she said slowly, he voice small and gentle as if she was approaching a frightened puppy.

Jimmy was not soothed, his emotions and tears were overflowing. “You knew this whole time and never told me?!”

Wanda flinched, but she gestured openly with her hands, “we couldn't tell you or this would have happened sooner.”

Jimmy's head spun at that. Timmy had said something about that in his letters. He frowned, “then why are you here now?” 

“We care about you Jimmy and we wanted to come explain the rest,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “and to make sure your okay.”

Jimmy laughed, the sound crooked, “I don't think it'll ever be okay.”

“I won't lie to you and say it will, but you're unfortunately going to have to live with it,” Wanda said slowly, her voice was warm but shaky.

“That's not fair!” Jimmy yelled, his voice crackling with her force of it.

“It's not,” Wanda agreed.

“So, what?” Jimmy accused, “I just move on as if Timmy wasn't my entire life?”

Neither of the fairies answered, just exchanging a worried look.

“I just… I just have to accept it?” Then he pointed a finger at them, “there has to be a way to fix it!”

Cosmo shook his head, “there isn't. Trust me, we looked and asked, and maybe begged once or twice.” 

Jimmy didn't answer this time. His eyes just darted between the floating figures. 

He'd never see Timmy again. He'd never kiss Timmy again. He'd never hear his laugh or see his buck toothed smile again.

Timmy was just gone and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Jimmy, quiet, voice raw from yelling: “Does he even know what he lost?”

Cosmo and Wanda exchange a look, hesitant.

Wanda, barely above a whisper: “No.”

Jimmy closes his eyes. Takes a shaky breath. “He’s just… living his life. Without me.”

Cosmo nods, sniffling. “It’s like you never existed.”

Jimmy grips the box tighter. His whole body trembling.

Because Timmy lost everything.

But Jimmy? Jimmy is the only one left who has to live with it.

Wanda hesitates, then quietly says: “There is… one thing we can do.”

Jimmy looks up, hope flickering in his broken eyes. “You can bring him back?”

Wanda shakes her head. “No. But we can make you forget, too.”

Jimmy’s breath catches.

“It won’t bring him back,” Wanda continues. “But if it hurts too much… we can take it all away.”

Cosmo, for once, is completely serious. “You won’t even know you lost anything.”

Jimmy stares at them. At the box in his hands. At the letters, the memories, the pink hat.

And then he shakes his head. Firm. Certain.

“No.”

Wanda’s eyes widen. “Jimmy, you don’t have to—”

“Someone has to remember him.”

The room goes silent.

Jimmy clutches the box to his chest. His whole world may have collapsed, but he refuses to let Timmy disappear completely.

Even if it destroys him.

Jimmy, voice breaking, whispering to himself: “I won’t forget you, Starshine.”

Cosmo and Wanda watch in silence. Because they can’t do anything but bear witness.

Jimmy, one last time, holding onto that pink hat:

“I promise.”

~

The café is nothing special. Just another place, another routine, another ordinary day.

It has been over a year since the incident and Jimmy was still struggling to find a routine. Things were normal, but that didn't count for much anymore. 

Jimmy isn’t expecting anything when he steps in, orders his coffee, waits by the counter.

And then—

"Hey, I think you dropped this."

The voice hits him like a lightning strike.

Jimmy turns. And there he is.

Timmy Turner.

He’s standing there, holding out a pen Jimmy hadn’t even realized he’d dropped, smiling casually, like they’ve never met before. Like they weren’t once everything to each other.

As if he still wasn't Jimmy's everything.

Like he wasn’t once Jimmy’s whole universe.

And Jimmy—Jimmy is frozen.

Because Timmy looks the same and yet completely different. His hair is still wild, his grin still easy, but his eyes don’t recognize Jimmy at all.

Timmy has no idea who he’s talking to.

No idea that Jimmy has spent every single day since his birthday remembering for both of them.

No idea that Jimmy has been walking around with a heart full of love for someone who doesn’t even know he exists anymore.

Jimmy swallows. Forces a breath. Forces a smile.

"Thanks," he says, taking the pen from Timmy’s outstretched hand.

Timmy grins. "No problem." He turns, like he’s about to leave—

And Jimmy can’t let that happen.

He can’t lose him again.

So before Timmy can step away, Jimmy gathers every ounce of courage, every piece of his broken heart, and speaks.

"Hey—can I buy you a coffee?"

Timmy blinks, surprised, but then—he shrugs, grinning.

"Sure. Why not?"

And as they walk to the counter together, Jimmy lets himself believe.

Because this time—this time—Timmy won’t forget.

And Jimmy will get the chance to fall in love with him all over again.

[13916-62mae22]

Even After That...

fandom: PLAVE pairing: Yu Hamin x reader genre: angst word count: 5.2k prompt: "I want you back..."

~ Yejun ~ Noah ~ Bamby ~ Eunho ~

Something was haunting him. Wherever he went, there were glimpses and shadows. He wasn’t sure if he was seeing things, but the air always became heavy when it was nearby.

It first happened when he tried to help Noah.

When he first came to his World, he was embraced by the older man. Clothed in garments similar to a mage and breathed magic, Noah sobbed loudly into his chest while babbled nonstop. After prying the big baby off of him, Hamin learned that Noah had a friend who looked just like him.

“You have the same name too.” Noah sniffed, rubbing his nose. “Are you from another universe?”

Hamin found that impossible since his Story felt incomplete. His home was made out of data and code, alongside the faceless people who monotonously went on about their day. But at the moment, anything felt possible.

After jumping through the rift, Hamin found that they were stuck and even worse, the World was becoming smaller and smaller by the day. No matter how long Noah tried to use magic to restore the World's balance, there was no helping it.

Just like his own World, something was destroying Caelum.

Hamin quickly tried retrieving data from the World. It's not difficult, but the World can be unpredictable. He had already been chased by multiple animals and got lost in the forest. What else could happen?

A scream resonated within the area Hamin was in, sending shivers down his spine. Almost all of the humans within this World had already disappeared, except for Noah. Was it an animal?

Regardless of what it was, he had to go check.

Bounding through the underbrush, Hamin was shadowed by a giant digital mass. It loomed over him and its screech was high-pitched, vibrating the air. He spotted a cloaked figure lying beneath it and his determination was set a-new. Quickly, he fought the malware off and once he was sure that it wouldn’t form again, he rummaged around for the corrupted core.

It hadn’t revealed itself when he beat it down, which was concerning. More shrieks in the distance erupted. There were more? Hamin let the displeasure on his face show. There wasn’t a peaceful day in Noah's World.

Picking the inconspicuous figure up, he hurried back to the barrier set around the castle. Noah was waiting for him in the garden.

“Where have you been? I thought you were getting–” He stopped once he saw the figure in his arms. “Wha–who? There’s still people around?!”

“I thought so too, but we should check them over.” Hamin tried to peer underneath the hood, but couldn’t see within the dark. “They might not be here for long.”

That’s what he said, but he was surprised to find what he was looking at.

After a long trek to the library, Noah instructed Hamin to use any of the tables and desk as a makeshift bed to use. Hamin caught a glimpse of something shining underneath the depths of the cloak and he gently pried the cloth back to take a look.

The person’s body was made of dust. Specifically, they looked like an animated mannequin made out of sand. Their face was crafted to make it look like they were sleeping and their clothes were etched into their body. 

Noah couldn’t help but stare down at the body, before speaking.

“Where did you get this?”

Hamin was still, watching Noah with calculated eyes. Noah’s face was tight, a scowl replacing his usual smile.

“Hyung, what do you mean? I found them.” Hamin asked slowly. “Do…you know them?”

Noah flinched. So he did.

Hamin opened his mouth to confront him, but the ‘mannequin’ suddenly began to move. They sat up, raising a hand to hold their head, and then turned to face them. Hamin held his breath. Although they were awake, their face remained unchanged from being in a slumber.

“AH!” They jumped down from the wooden desk it laid on and grabbed at the hood to pull it over their face. It hesitated before trying to sprint to the door.

“No–Wait!”

Noah sprinted after them and grabbed a hold of their cloak, tugging it right off.

“NO!”

Everything went so fast that Hamin could barely comprehend what had happened. The desk was suddenly in front of the door, blocking the exit, and the ‘mannequin’ was crouched in the shadows, trying to block their face. Noah breathed hard as he tried to maintain his magic.

“Wait..please…” He gasped. “Is that…is it really you?”

The figure froze.

“Please, I–I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been? What happened? Are–”

“That’s…enough…Noah…” Slowly, the figure stood up and stepped into the light. 

Hamin could see them clearly now. They were dressed in royal garb, but pieces were missing. The light made it look like their material body was shifting. He felt a few prickles bite at his neck.

“It is…!” Noah lowered his arms, letting the magic fade from his fingertips. “I’ve been so worried. How could you disappear like that? If you hadn’t—”

“N-Noah…” They stumbled forward and fell to their knees. But not before Noah hurried to catch them.

“What’s going on?” Noah’s voice cracked. “Hold on! I can restore you!”

“No..ah…please…” They flopped around in his arms before trying to cover his mouth. Their hand passed right through them. “I–I don’t…have much time…but…”

With a bright glow, a pink cube emerged from their chest.

“That’s…!” Noah gasped.

“A Restore Point.” Hamin finished.

“I…had to find it…complete it…before…it was…too late…” They used their faintly glowing hand to guide it to Noah’s own chest. “And now…I can finally…give it to you…”

Noah looked at them and Hamin felt his skin bristle. “Wait–Noah-hyung!”

“Without…regrets…”

With one push, the cube was pushed into Noah’s chest.

Noah’s body pulsed and a bright light erupted from the sky. A rift was opened, revealing a deep blue and purple ocean from afar. Hamin couldn’t believe it. A successful rift was made and it didn’t look like it was going to close anytime soon. He turned back to the pair, only to see Hamin holding a disappearing figure.

“Noah…I’m–”

“No,” Noah grabbed at the light, focusing his magic around it. “Z-zip your mouth. I don’t want to hear anything until you’ve recovered.”

“Noah…”

“Stop–please, I’m trying to help for once.”

“Hey, I–”

“If you would just–”

“HEY, IDIOT!”

The room rang and everyone went still.

“Let me just,” They breathed, running a fading hand through Noah’s hair. “Talk to you once more, ok?”

Hamin watched as Noah nodded silently.

“Good.” They laughed. “Hey, remember when you didn’t want to get married when we were younger? Did you really dislike me that much?”

Noah shook his head, his hand shaking as he tried to grab hold of them. “...Never. I’ve loved you ever since we met.”

A soft laugh echoed in the room.

“Me too.”

~ ~

It was hard to pull Noah away from the library. He moved like a ghost and wouldn’t look away from the spot that shimmered with bright flecks of sparkles, remnants from the last remaining person from the World.

Hamin prepared their departure from this World to the next. Noah made no objections, only asking if his World would remain intact with him gone.

“With the Restore Point activated, this world is frozen in time at this moment.” Hamin said slowly.

“...And if we leave?”

“It should stay the same until we get back.”

It would be hard to notice the way Noah clutched at his chest.

With preparations done and ready, Hamin and Noah opened a portal at the edge of the sea.

The next World led him to Yejun.

The world was strange, an underwater city that lived and thrived with aquatic animals. But like Noah’s World, there was no one left. 

Hamin could only spot sources of code with his goggles, but they couldn’t find anyone. Noah used his magic to create a portal that led them to rooftops, but all they could find was scattered pieces of clothes and crustaceans that trailed along their feet.

“Why would the rift take us here?” Noah grumbled, shaking a purple crab that latched onto his foot. “There’s no one here.”

“The rift takes us to worlds that have at least one surviving Story.” Hamin groaned, stretching his stiff muscles. “We just have to find them.” 

Noah may be older than him, but he complained more than a toddler. Hamin nudged a rock with his foot, revealing a small hole. He squinted, crouching down to examine it. There was something glowing at the bottom. The hole was narrow, barely letting him fit his wrist in, but it wasn’t as deep as he thought. Carefully, he pinched the soft object with two fingers and pulled it out.

“What did you find?” Noah jogged over to him, peering over his shoulder.

Hamin stared at the small blue orb that hung in front of his face. Upon closer inspection, there was a small figure encapsulated within the middle.

“An undine?” Noah poked the outer shell, watching it ripple.

“I thought it was a water spirit?” Hamin carefully held the orb in his palm, peering closer to get a better look. The figure’s small head slightly raised and when it met his eyes, the bubble glowed bright.

“Whoa! Huh–?”

Hamin watched as the little fairy zipped around him multiple times and then suddenly began to nuzzle against his neck and face. Just like Noah, it seemed to recognize him. It made cooing noises and warbled in a tone he couldn’t understand. But Hamin wasn’t from this World. What was going on? Was his Story intertwined with others? 

“So, the Undine knows you too?” Noah held his hand up to touch the fairy and it whizzed around his wrist before letting him stroke the outer shell. Hamin could only shake his head and shrug.  The fairy hugged his cheek one last time before grabbing at his finger and began to pull him forward, indicating that he followed them.  

They ran through the city streets and found themselves at a tall building. When they tried to enter the building, they found barnacles and algae blocking the entrance. The fairy let out a call and some sea creatures responded, a dolphin and a small whale. The fairy hopped on the head of the whale before pushing the two on the back of the whale. 

It took them to the top of the tower, where a dome sat around its head. In the middle of it was a hatch. Was this where the Story was coming to an end? They followed the fairy through the hatch and found a lab. It was clean and very minimalist. A bed sat on one side, while a desk was set up on the other side. The walls were replaced with windows, overlooking the sky with glowing sea creatures swimming around the building.

A crash came from the other side of the room and Hamin looked over to see a man sitting on the floor. His expression was funny as his eyes and mouth were wide open, but as his mouth remained open, bubbles came forth and rose to the ceiling. Noah couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

“Ha-Hamin…and…? No, who…who are you?” The man scrambled to get up, grabbing a hold of the closest thing to him, a snowglobe. “I thought…everyone disappeared? How did you both survive? Has the disease…?”

“Your World is falling apart then too?” Noah interrupted.

“What…yes.” The man seemed to glare at the two of them. “Of course it is! What do you think is going on?!”

“Our World’s are also falling apart. Caelum is being attacked by a…something.” Hamin stepped forward, extending his hand. “We came from other World in Caelum. I am called ‘Hamin’. We can help you.”

The man wearily looked at the two of them before setting the snow globe down and grasping his hand. 

“Alright. My name is Nam Yejun.” He gave a small smile, and Hamin felt hopeful. “How did you find me? The city is too big to single me out here.”

“There was a water spirit that helped us find you.”

Yejun’s expression morphed into one of confusion. “A water spirit?”

Hamin nodded, looking over to the floating orb. “Yes. It knew that you were here.”

He watched as Yejun looked up, watching as the orb slowly drifted towards his face. It orbited his head, seemingly happy to see him, before nuzzling his cheek. The man looked to be confused by this creature but as it cuddled up to him, his eyes became vacant and his expression turned watery.

Hamin could barely hear what Yejun whispered next.

“Is it really you?” 

A faint glow responded to him and the fairy chirped. Yejun carefully held the small thing closer to his face, softly sobbing as he did. 

“I thought…”

He was quietly silenced as the fairy clung to his face.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Hamin cleared his throat. “But have you observed anything that might have changed your world recently?”

“Ah…” Yejun hastily wiped at his eyes. “Almost. I’m a doctor and I have been researching the disease that has been taking everyone. But after…the last person was taken, my research has been slow.”

“But you’re still here.” Noah questioned. “What if there was something in…your blood or something? Have you tried that?”

“Believe me, I have.” Yejun led them over to a small kitchen island, stacked with lab equipment. “I have dolphin DNA in me, but if I was left, what about the other dolphins? The disease reacts with any type of DNA, regardless of gene and blood biology.”

“At the moment, before Caelum disappears completely, we need to find a Restore Point.” Hamin crossed his arms, trying to remember the city’s map they just trekked through.

“Restore Point? You mean…?”

“Something like part of a game, yes.” Noah finished. “I didn’t understand it until recently either.”

“If we can find one, then your World can be saved.” Hamin picked himself up from the seat he was sitting in and began to walk towards the hatch.

A chirp trilled throughout the space and the three men looked to find the blue fairy circling the air. Yejun called out to it with a chirp-like noise and it began to circle him too.

“Does it know where one is?” Noah asked, leaning forward to look at the orb.

“I think so,” Yejun grabbed at it gently and led it to a table, where a map was laid out. “Where is it? Do you remember?”

The fairy circled the map once and then stopped in the middle, before doing something akin to coughing something up. Hamin noticed the flash of pink and hurried over to find that the water spirit had spit up–

“Is that…?”

“A Restore Point!” Noah exclaimed.

“Where did you find this?” Hamin asked.

The blue orb pointed to a place on the map. The building top where they found the spirit. Hamin felt incredibly lucky to have found everything in one fell swoop. A rumble shook the sky and the building began to shake. Everyone held on to something, as what felt to be an earthquake began to erupt beneath them.

“What is that?”

Hamin looked towards the direction that Noah was pointing and watched as an amalgamation of malware swarmed the darkening sky. It took the shape of a large whale, bigger than the ones they saw earlier that day. Its body pulsed and shimmered a black color and tried to swarm the building with its body.

As quickly as he could, Hamin moved across the room and tried to climb back to the hatch. He had to eliminate it before it caused more harm to this World! 

“Hamin-ah, wait up!” Noah climbed up after him, trying to keep balanced as the building shook around them.

“Hyung, get back! It's dangerous!”

“That's what I should be telling you!”

As the hatch was opened, a strong breeze almost swept the two away. The storm that the malware was calling was getting worse. The malware let out a screech and another gust of wind blew their way. Hamin held on to the hatch but Noah wasn't fast enough. He was lifted from the roof and was about to be thrown away!

With a swipe of his arm, Hamin grabbed Noah’s flailing hand. A pulse traveled down his arm and for a moment, Hamin watched something flash in his memory. A kingdom, thriving magic, and…someone.

He understood.

With one pull, he brought Noah close and they held onto each other.

“Noah-hyung! I get it! I can use it!”

“Huh--What?!” The confusion on Noah's face was priceless. “What can you use?!”

“That spell!”

Noah understood as he carefully examined Hamin's face and with a nod, the two of them began to use light to draw a circle of runes. The copied magic that flowed through Hamin's body felt strange, but also familiar. It was almost like he had always known, but couldn't remember.

Another screech vibrated for a moment, but then stopped. Hamin looked over to see another figure beside them. Yejun and the water spirit stood next to them, arms upwards in using their own magic power to still the malware in a water prison.

Without hesitating, Hamin and Noah used ‘Purifying Light’ to bore a hole through the giant malware. Hamin watched as it dissipated into the sky and faded from this World. A wave of exhaustion flooded his body and he felt himself collapse against Noah. It became painful afterwards and his muscles wouldn't move an inch. Yejun began to treat the two of them, using his water power to soothe the body.

The World was saved and now they had to use the Restore Point.

“Yejun-hyung,” Hamin croaked, clearing his throat quickly. “Where's the ‘restore point’?”

“Ah, here.” Yejun pulled it out of his pocket, but before he could hand it to Hamin, a flash of blue snatched it from his hand.

The water spirit held onto the cube, refusing to go near the group.

“Hey! What's the matter with you?” Noah groaned from where he laid. “We just saved your World! We need that!”

Yejun carefully approached the blue orb. “...Is something the matter?”

The water spirit looked in between the three and then drifted towards Yejun slowly. It chirped towards him and for a moment, Hamin saw Yejun's face change into a dark expression. He couldn't help but shiver.

“Wait, you can't–”

In a moment, a bright light streaked the sky and a pulse of air went through Yejun.

The sky became bright and bright bubbles decorated it in streams. The sea creatures in the city began to sing woeful songs as they watched the bubbles rise, sad to watch the world go. Hamin looked over to Yejun, watching tears flood down his face as the glowing blue spirit disappeared in a stream of bubbles.

The next World was dark, neon signs painting the buildings and sidewalks to the city. No matter how long they stayed, the concept of daylight did not exist in this World. They had traveled for what seemed like days, dodging the sights of static monsters and sleeping on shadowed rooftops. During that time, Hamin tried to collect his thoughts. First that moving mannequin and then the water spirit. Something was connecting him to these people. Both Yejun and Noah seemed to know him, but on the other hand, they also recognized each other.

They talked quietly amongst each other as they traveled, sharing stories about their Worlds. Yejun’s quiet life was described as otherworldly; his world living in an underwater atmosphere with a modern way of life. Noah’s was more of a fantasy as he could use magic and lived in medieval times. But in each other’s World, they had both existed. Hamin couldn’t make heads or tails about the situation. Was this next life going to have a version of them too?

A high-pitched screech gathered their attention and as they hid under a terrace, they watched a pink light fly by with a group of mass of static run after it in the street. It streaked up and down the city, always almost reaching the top of a building before skating down it to gather speed and zip by the amalgamation.

“Is that…?” Yejun whispered.

“It has to be.” Noah answered. “Hamin-ah, we have to go save them!”

Hamin wanted to protest, but there was no denying that this was the next person they had to save, along with their World. A loud shake made them look back to the scene and they watched the pink streak get knocked back and fly back. 

“Noah!” Yejun called, thrusting his hand out to create a soft landing. Noah immediately casted a soft levitation spell on the ball and safely let it down to the ground. It was another person. He looked up, perplexed at what had just happened.

His mouth flapped up and down until words finally came out. “What–who…what’s going on?!”

“There’s no time to explain.” Hamin helped him up, dragging him to a blind spot. “We’re here to help.”

A loud roar shook the air. It was going to go on a rampage again. The pink-haired man gathered the three of them close.

“We need to try and destroy the anomaly as fast as we can. If it gets any bigger, we’ll be thrown into infested sectors below us. If you’re gonna hit it, do it hard. Its regeneration ability is slow.” A digital screen flashed and he swiped over it, creating a map of the city they were in. “I’ll try to lure it far from the bridge. Try to focus on strong offensive attacks or defensive skills.”

It didn’t take long for the group to understand the situation and they all agreed readily. Yejun focused on healing and shielding, while Hamin would tank through the front with Noah ready with duelist magic. And the newest member, Bamby, would use defensive tactics.

Another loud call signaled its attack and the four of them scattered. Noah took Yejun to the rooftops, keeping him away from danger. Hamin stuck close to Bamby, watching him grab a metal scrapped up board from the ground.

“Try to keep your attacks towards the city.” Bamby muttered. “We can’t risk falling over the edge.

And with a brisk kick of air, he shot off on the board. This meant that the fight had begun.

The pink light flickered before blazing bright. It circled the monster a couple of times to catch its attention and then began to blitz farther into the street. It worked as the monster roared and tried to crawl its way to Bamby.

Hamin jumped through the portal that Noah made and was launched into the air, to fall right on the digital monster. He channeled a will to stretch code around his leg, making an ungenerated leg gauntlet and quickly cut through a chunk of the monster's body. It screamed, waving long arms to hit the mosquito that bit it.

Hamin dodged, jumping behind Yejun’s shields as the blocks of static rolled off the transparent orb. Noah tapped his back and Hamin sprinted forward. He fought against the pulsing cubes and waves of attacks that came after it. Noah used elemental magic against it, using ice and earth to spear and freeze upcoming attacks.

The monster had a feeling that it was going to lose and began to attack blindly, hitting Bamby mid-air and Yejun’s safe spot. Hamin sprinted to Yejun’s position, catching his falling form as he did. Bamby was also caught by Noah, a shield rolling them away from any more attacks.

“This,” Noah panted. “Feels impossible. It feels like we haven’t even made a dent.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Bamby groaned, nursing his leg as Yejun healed it.

“We need firepower!” Noah growled. “There’s no way we can–!”

A sound of a motorcycle revving caught their attention and Hamin looked over to see a red streak circling the monster before fire appeared and attacked it. It was effective to the point where the monster shrieked, collapsing on its side. 

“Where did they come from?!” Noah screamed.

“Doesn’t matter.” Hamin pushed past him. “We’ll take all the help we can get.”

Hamin could practically feel the glare that Noah sent him. A portal was opened and Yejun and Bamby jumped through it. Another safe point was made and Bamby shot around the city buildings to survey the situation.

It didn’t take long for the monster to recover and it slapped down an attack that shifted the earth. Noah launched Hamin into the air, watching another flurry of attacks cut cleanly through blocks of black and grey. Meanwhile, flashes of yellow and red clashed as they attacked as well. 

The size of the monster was decreasing steadily and when it was the size of a small house, they regrouped to get any healing done and optimize their plan. Hamin felt dirt and sweat plastered on his forehead and waited patiently for Yejun to dump a bubble of water on him. A splotch of pink moved in his peripheral and as he turned his head, a gray shadow sat atop of Bamby’s retreating figure.

“Look out!”

The motorcyclist pushed Bamby and a fist of digital mass landed right Bamby had been standing. This caused the group to scatter, trying to avoid the oncoming attacks. Hamin kicked away an incoming block and tried to spot the rest of the group. Yejun was providing back-up to Noah, as he casted a shield upon them. Hamin looked around, tapping his temple to activate his goggles. He couldn’t find any weak spots and the monster grew larger as it consumed its surroundings.

The ground shook and Hamin felt his skin grow hot. The spot where the man had been hit exploded and fire erupted from the ground. The man stepped out from the crater, his helmet broken with an eye visible. A redstreak flashed and rocketed towards the monster. It took less than a second before it exploded in a hot wave. 

Hamin tried to shield himself behind a rusted car, trying to minimize any burns. A cooling sensation washed over him and he saw Yejun’s water shield covering his body. He spotted the pink haired man, struggling to cover himself with a metal scrap. Hamin ran towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrapped him close to his body. The shield could only cover him so much, so that left him to use himself.

Fifteen seconds felt so much longer than it sounded. Hamin had shut his eyes, waiting for the heat to die down and when it did, he couldn’t help but wait for something else to happen. Was it over? Was it gone? Hamin unfurled his arms around Bamby and peeked over the metal scrap. 

Where the monster was, stood the motorist. Flames decapitated from his body and after it was finally done, he fell to the ground. Bamby was the first to move. He sprinted over to the man, skidding to a halt when he reached him. Hamin followed suit and the other two walked over cautiously.

“Hey!” Bamby shook the man. “You–what’re you…you’re stupid!”

Despite the insults, he had tears flowing down his face. His fists were curled and laid on the white haired chest, unmoving. Yejun quickly began to use his healing powers to try and heal him. His eyebrows furrowed and he grunted as he pushed his hands down onto him. The injured man groaned.

“His wounds…!” Yejun growled. “They’re too severe! If I can just…!”

Hamin remembered when he had connected with Noah’s magic and without hesitating, he placed his hands over Yejuns.

A pulse. A faint memory. A calm washing sensation.

The copied power began to work within him and he pushed it back out, hoping that the healing would be doubled. The blue glow faded and the white haired man opened his eyes.

“Ugh,” He groaned. “Did we win?”

Bamby threw his arms around Eunho, sobbing as he did. “You idiot! You’re always so reckless!”

The man looked confused, patting the smallest back softly. Bamby let go after a while, struggling to wipe away the flood that escaped his eyes.

“Ah, I’m so glad to see you again, Eunho. But how did you…?”

“I’m sorry,” He interrupted. “Do I know you?”

The other three began to feel very awkward as Bamby’s face changed.

“What do you mean? It’s me, Bam–Bonggu! Don’t you remember me?”

‘Eunho’ shook his head. “I lost my memory a while ago. I’ve been trying to find out who I was before, but after everyone disappeared…”

The group was silent. It had happened to all of them. The empty World moving on while the people ceased to exist. The ground rumbled slightly and the five of them became alert once more. From the ground, two streaks spiraled into the sky. Hamin realized it was a Restore Point, but there were two?

Before he could react, the twin spears twirled back down and hit both Eunho and Bamby in the chest. The World shook once more and a bright light flashed open in the sky. Another rift. Bamby straightened himself up, ready to fight whatever else was about to attack him, but nothing came. Eunho sat on the ground, perplexed at the situation.

Suddenly, a blue portal opened up beneath the group. It dropped them into another dimension. Hamin looked around the space. It was like they had entered a new dimension. The sky was filled with glittering stars and planets, shooting stars lit the sky as they passed, and the ground glowed as they walked. A soft call caught his attention, echoing in his ear. As the rest of the group explored and went on without him, he laid eyes on a figure. They stood off in the distance, dressed in white. He couldn’t decipher their features, but his heart stirred. 

You smiled at him, a melancholic look softening your features. He had come so far on this journey. You remembered the look he had given as you wiped and reset his code. You made sure that it didn’t hurt. There was no future in Caelum as long as they existed. So you gave them one. His memories would never be the same. Only the ones in the present and future mattered.

You didn’t say anything, fearing that your resolve would crumble when you did. But the look in his eyes said everything to you. I will come find you.

You let out a soft chuckle, unable to hold it back any longer. Noah called out to Hamin. A portal was opening up. With one last look back, Hamin retreated to the safety of his new family. They stepped through the portal, unsure what laid ahead of them. 

~ ~

In a field of flowers, you stood alone. You watched him go, the one you had to leave behind. If he ever walked your way, you knew that he would find you.

You closed your eyes, smiling at the memories you were about to leave behind.

‘Come and find me.’ You wished. ‘In a World where we can be together.’

[mr-entj]

Dear Mr-Entj, so glad you're back and sharing all your wisdom with us! I am studying in a field (bachelor) that is a mix between engineering and cognitive psychology. My goal is to be able to develop skills that I can bank on, basically. I need to become financially independent and have some sort of fu*k you money because I've been struggling my whole life and I'm tired. I thought about doing engineering management as a masters. But I'm not sure in what field to start looking for a job. Aerospace, healthcare, AI and tech, fashion, finance. I'm feeling a little lost and like I want to do them all, but I'm not sure where to start. I don't have something that I'm passionate about, my first goal is to be financially independent and in a relative short time, not 20 years down the line. I guess everyone wants that, huh? Maybe you could give me your opinion?

Start your career, don't pursue a master's degree. Experience > education. People who stay in school are doing it out of fear of navigating the job market which further delays their entrance to it which makes it even harder to enter because they'll be older than everyone else. You don't need a master's degree in management when you have zero management experience. It would be like someone getting a PhD in law who has never seen the inside of a courtroom-- completely disconnected from reality and of little value to employers.

Start with problems you want to solve, not the job you want to have. Jobs disappear and reappear over time, but purpose and personal fulfillment are more resilient. Here are 2 posts that may help: How did you choose your career? and Choosing a career with impact.

You can make 'fuck you' money doing anything if you're excellent at it. The key is balancing three factors: the likelihood of success in breaking into that career (check job growth reports, career outlooks, and salary data), your ability to excel at it (will you be great or just average?), and your genuine interest in the work (will you enjoy it enough to stick with it?). I know nothing about you to make that call-- that's a calculation only you can make.

[domfock]

Now that we're finally at volume 5, are you guys ready to fucking suffer? Yes? Good, because I have some absolute horrors to share with you guys, and since I had to realize this and live with it, so do you!

Let's start with this page:

Vash is blaming himself for shit Knives has done, right? He puts the responsibility of his brother's actions onto his own shoulders while his own rage mounts, he kept himself going because he had to send Knives to Hell for what he had done.

We saw him say this to Legato,

And we saw him say this to Hoppered, despite his earlier inner confession of being a murderer.

Almost as if this excuse runs on autopilot as a way to cope with the horrors he witnessed and can't remember in July, blaming Knives for everything. This was his mindset before July, and after losing his memory of July, it reset.

This is the last time we see this excuse, however.

As the truth comes back to haunt him, he is faced with the true suffering, and so are we as readers.

Vash IS a murderer, in fact, he killed everyone in July. Knives didn't force him to pull the trigger, Vash made a calculated move, something he could only do if he was aware. He WANTED to kill Knives right then and there, and for the sin of wanting to shoot to kill, Vash's punishment was blowing everyone around them away.

Vash intentionally swapped where his angel arm was growing to trick Knives, made it smaller, possibly in the hopes that it would contain the damage.

After hearing Knives' rant about what humanity has done to him, it probably dawned on Vash that these are Knives' abuse towards him. Vash's goal was to punish Knives for the Big Fall before July, and everything that just happened only enforced that. Vash really did intend to send Knives to Hell there, using his angel arm to kill him and took all of July with him.

Vash will be completely changed after this, having realized that he is just like Knives now, killing thousands in a moment of anger and fear. Knives caused the Big Fall, Vash destroyed July. Vash lost Rem's spirit long ago, his hands are already dirtied by blood.

But wait, it's about to get worse.

Remember this line from Trigun Vol 2?

Knives body couldn't survive the damage done to it from July, even after years of attempted recovery. They're transferring Knives consciousness to another Plant, his data, to make a new body for him, a "copy."

Question is now, is this a data copy or a transfer? Because if it's a copy, then Vash did truly kill his own flesh and blood brother. The new resurrected Knives is both a copy in body and spirit, if that is how one sees it, and leaving the original Knives to experience death.

Vash did not only kill everyone in July, but potentially also his own brother, and with his returned memory he now remembers this.

Anyway, have fun and enjoy, Bookclub!

[mariacallous]

In the fall of 2022, Kyiv faced a difficult problem. The Russians were bombarding Ukrainian cities with swarms of Iranian Shahed drones. The challenge was spotting them, since their low altitude, small size, and stealthy design made them hard to follow on radar.

A pair of Ukrainian engineers quickly jury-rigged a solution. Today, the country is blanketed with a network of 9,500 microphones mounted on six-foot-tall poles. The microphones, which are attached to cell phones, track the Shaheds by sound (the propeller-driven drones have loud engines) and send that data to a central system that calculates their courses. That information is then passed on to iPad-wielding soldiers in gun trucks that shoot down the slow-moving drones. Each sensor pole in the network costs less than $500—which makes the entire network, known as Sky Fortress, cheaper than a pair of Patriot missiles.

I experienced Sky Fortress in action during an extended visit to Kyiv last fall. Shaheds, which sound a lot like lawn mowers in the sky—passed over my apartment building several times. Ukrainian air defenses succeeded in shooting down the majority of them, and they did so at a fraction of the cost of Western-supplied anti-aircraft systems.

All this should explain why I wasn’t entirely surprised when I heard about last weekend’s shrewd Ukrainian drone attack on air bases deep inside Russia. Operation Spiderweb, which appears to have inflicted serious damage on Russia’s strategic bomber fleet, brilliantly exemplifies the Ukrainian way of war, born out of Kyiv’s struggle to survive attacks from an enemy with far larger manpower and resources. This disparity has forced the Ukrainians to get creative, bypass traditional bureaucracies, and empower soldiers and entrepreneurs in the search for unorthodox solutions that quickly address battlefield needs. Since it largely ignores traditional military hierarchy and its slow, top-down processes, one might call Ukraine’s new philosophy “flat war.”

Flat war is less a planned strategy than an organic reflection of Ukraine’s predicament. When Russia launched its full-scale invasion in February 2022, Ukraine’s defense establishment was still dominated by top-heavy, Soviet-style structures. But military and political leaders quickly shifted to a nimbler approach, bringing private companies directly into the process of developing weapons and giving front-line units greater leeway to develop and procure their own systems. In some ways, that shift reflects the country’s recent political history. Decentralization has been a pillar of reform efforts over the past decade or so, which might explain why it has been embraced so thoroughly by soldiers.

One of the most striking traits of the new philosophy is its emphasis on cost-effectiveness. Each of the 117 drones deployed in Operation Spiderweb cost something in the ballpark of $1,000. Kyiv has said that the attack inflicted billions of dollars of damage on Russia, which could well be true given satellite images confirming that around a dozen Russian bombers were destroyed. No matter the actual figure, the cost-benefit calculation skews dramatically in Ukraine’s favor. And the precise number of lost aircraft doesn’t even begin take into account the broader effects on the Russian economy, which is now being thrown into chaos as paranoid security officials stop every truck on the road in search of more drones.

From a Ukrainian perspective, the most unusual thing about Operation Spiderweb is precisely the fact that President Volodymyr Zelensky appears to have been directly involved. Today, many of the most vital warfighting decisions are made not by the president’s office or the Ministry of Defense, but at the brigade level—the fundamental building block of the Ukrainian military. Brigades recruit their own soldiers (whom they can divert to technology development work according to their qualifications), liaise directly with companies about the weapons they need, and even manufacture drones in their own 3D-printing facilities. (Zelensky recently said that Ukraine made 2.2 million drones in 2024; the production target for this year is more than double that.)

In the best cases, the flattening of distance between decision-makers and warfighters promotes rapid innovation. Not many militaries in the world would have had the audacity to field a missile-equipped naval drone of the kind that shot down two Russian fighter jets over the Black Sea last month. Operating outside bureaucratic constraints in the months after Russia launched its invasion, Ukrainian tech experts quickly developed an app that allowed troops, spotters, and artillery units to coordinate attacks. Ukrainians have also made remarkable strides in adapting artificial intelligence systems to the battlefield. Kateryna Bondar, a fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, has outlined how some of the drones in Operation Spiderweb used AI applications to hit their targets.

Speed has become a weapon. “Ukraine’s advantage has not been in the individual technologies it has deployed, but in its ability to regularly outpace Russia in the innovation cycle,” wrote Joyce Hakmeh, deputy director of the international security program at Chatham House, in a recent report. And Hakmeh’s right. Ukraine’s strength hasn’t been in developing clever new gadgets, but in exploiting already available solutions and putting them together in innovative ways. (It was the Ukrainians who were the first to realize that they could put 3D-printed fins on mortar shells and drop them from off-the-shelf consumer drones.)

Ukrainians are constantly adapting to the battlefield. Last year, a friend from Kyiv, who works on the development of naval drones, showed me a spreadsheet tracking all naval drone attacks on Russian targets, and it included vital variables like electronic warfare measures used by the enemy. The data, he explained, was constantly being updated in real time and immediately flowing into the calculations of the drone designers.

My friend was working in conjunction with one of the Ukrainian security services, which operate at the cutting edge of flat war. Granted broad latitude by Zelensky, they have prosecuted an audacious program of covert actions against Russia. The Security Service of Ukraine (SBU), which ran the recent attack on the Russian bases, has made a name for itself with targeted assassinations, such as the December killing of a top Russian general in Moscow, possibly with an exploding scooter. The SBU’s rival, the Ukrainian military intelligence agency (HUR), has been equally aggressive. It was likely behind the 2023 hit on a former Russian submarine commander, who was killed during his morning jog; his assailants had prepared for the attack by hacking into an exercise app that he used. Just hours after Operation Spiderweb left Russian aircraft in flames, HUR announced that its hackers had infiltrated the computer systems of one of Moscow’s leading aircraft designers.

The United States could learn a lot from Ukraine’s flat war, and plenty of people in the U.S. military know it. The Defense Department’s Replicator program, which aims to produce swarms of cheap drones in direct collaboration with private companies, clearly reflects Ukraine’s experience. So, too, is the Pentagon’s Accelerate the Procurement and Fielding of Innovative Technologies initiative, designed to stimulate innovation by detouring around hidebound procurement procedures. Of course, the U.S. defense establishment isn’t going to mimic everything that Ukraine is doing. But a bit more flatness wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

[scentedstrangercreation]

An Indecent Proposal CH 2 (Shakarian Fic)

An Indecent Proposal (2954 words) by ScentedStrangerCreation Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Characters: Female Shepard (Mass Effect) Summary: Fake engagement trope babyyyyyyyyy. Set during ME 2, Shepard and Garrus exploit a loophole. It's just a technicality. They're just friends, of course. This started as a fluffy one-shot and now we're going for a part fluff, part angst full story. Some canon divergence, more possibly to come.   “Actually, we can do this later,” Shepard gestured with the pad. “Want a drink?” He waved her off, “I should probably get back to—” “If you say calibrations, I’ll vent the battery.” “Well, I won’t say it then.” “Come on, don’t make me beg.” She turned around and started walking as if he’d already agreed, “have a drink with me.” “It’s actually been more threatening than begging.” “Oh, good. Then you’ll take it seriously.”

Chapter 2

Shepard hadn’t spoken to Garrus in 26 hours. They’d gone longer without communicating before. Hell, they’d only known each other for four years, and she’d been dead half the time. That’s all to say: 26 hours was a drop in the bucket. So why did she feel so anxious? 

Could it be that you bullied him into marrying you in some half-brained plot to not lose your best friend? 

Maybe. 

“Credit for your thoughts?”

Shepard looked up from the data pad she wasn’t reading, caught under Liara’s watchful gaze.

The asari had been the only person not surprised by Shepard’s return. Why should she be? Liara had, after all, been the one to hand Shepard’s body over to Cerberus. Shepard wasn’t sure if she should be furious or hurt. She was a little of both. But she was also happy to see her friend again, so she had planted herself in Liara’s office for the afternoon. If the asari minded, she didn’t say anything. Liara wasn’t saying much at all.

“I asked Garrus to marry me.” Shepard set the data pad on her thigh, watching Liara expectantly.

Bet that wasn’t in your reports.

A flustered and undignified sound escaped Liara’s mouth before she collected herself. 

“Oh,” Liara quickly pushed herself away from the desk and sat up straight, “of course—that’s—congratulations,” she smiled at Shepard, small but warm.

It was the first time Shepard had seen Liara caught off guard since getting here. It felt familiar.

“Great hustle, but it’s not like that.” Shepard chuckled, leaning back into the chair. “We’re just taking advantage of a loophole. He gets the Turian Hierarchy off his back, I keep my sniper.”

“I see.” Liara’s voice was neutral. 

“Trust me, the insanity of the situation isn’t lost on me.” Shepard suddenly regretted bringing it up. She sat up again, “I…I don’t know…panicked.” 

“You panic-asked Garrus Vakarian to marry you?” Liara looked down her nose at Shepard, “That’s an interesting fight-or-flight response.”

Liara was no longer flustered. She was calculating. Now, Shepard really regretted bringing it up.

She bit at the tip of her thumbnail and released a short, disbelieving laugh. What had she been thinking?

“You know,” Liara said, “they say marriage in your 30s is statistically more likely to last,” she shrugged, “For humans, at least.”

“Who knew you’d become such an optimist in your old age?” 

“You know, I’ve always thought that you two—,”

“Liara.” 

“What? You’ve always been close.” 

“Yes, we’re friends.” Shepard emphasized the word, “you know, like we used to be.” She gestured between them.

“Shepard.”

“You sold my body to Cerberus.” Shepard finally said what they’d both been dancing around.

“Gave,” Liara corrected.

 Shepard stared at her blankly.

“No money was exchanged,” she said, “I just think it’s an important distinction.” Her voice trailed off at the end. 

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Okay, you donated my body to a terrorist organization. Not necessarily better, to clarify,” she added. “Then you fucked off halfway across the galaxy. I had to drag my freshly glued ass to Ilium to find you. And you’re just here, what, trading secrets?” 

“Shepard, that’s not fair.” Liara looked around like she’d find the answer anywhere but Shepard’s gaze.

“It wasn’t…” Liara finally looked at her, “A lot of us were lost without you.” 

Shepard looked away this time.

“Some of us tried to change things, others tried to find…purpose when change felt impossible.” 

Liara hesitated, “I’m good at what I do. I’m…doing something here…and Cerberus,” she trailed off before clearing her throat, “I know it was a risk. I don’t regret it, but I understand why you’re angry.” 

“Liara, I’m not—,” she stopped herself. 

They had made a promise to each other years ago: No lies. Back when they were both aliens, just a human and the asari who couldn’t understand each other. Shepard was mad. She may not remember being dead, but she remembers dying. Alone and cold. The same way she woke up again.

They watched each other quietly. The flickering glow of the screen reflected on the glass behind the asari, an endless stream of data Shepard couldn’t possibly comprehend. A quiet anxiety simmered in Liara’s gaze, buried in a shallow grave of poise.

"I’m a lot of things,” Shepard finally said, “grateful is one of them.” 

Liara’s eyes softened. 

Silence overtook them again. It was more peaceful than before, the type of silence Shepard didn’t feel the need to fill.

Liara pushed her chair back and stood, “Let's…we should celebrate.”

A feeling Liara, apparently, didn’t share. 

The asari was ill at ease. There was something else going on. Liara would tell her if she asked, but that’s the other side of the coin. When you promise not to lie, you also learn when not to ask. 

“It’s not every day your friends get engaged,” Liara said, gathering the data pads on her desk. 

“Again, we’re not really engaged.” 

“Shepard, you may have just woken up, but it’s been a bit longer for some of us.” Liara grabbed her coat and looked over her shoulder. “Come over for a drink. We should ping Garrus too.”