#to be fair that is what is takes to work 24 races in a single year

[milaeth]

୨୧┊ 𝐈𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part two ∿ part one ∿ part three

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ some suggestive jokes, other than that this is just as chaotic as the first part

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ part three is coming soon! hope you enjoy mwah <3

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: hey charles i really don’t want to be a bother but i quickly wanted to apologize for the insta post that was made about us a few hours ago!

charles <3: Hey, don’t worry, you’re not a bother! :) And I don’t really care about the post.

y/n: wait

y/n: you don’t care?

charles <3: Nope, I thought the whole flirting thing (the comments etc) was just a joke between friends, yk. At first I was a little confused, to be honest, since we don't usually joke like that, but I figured it was just the way you interact with people you feel more comfortable with!

[ seen 1:29pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: i’m so scared

princess george: WHAT DID HE SAY

y/n: he thinks it was a flirty joke between friends

princess george: HUH? So I did all that painfully obvious flirting for nothing💀

y/n: AHA

y/n: SO YOU DID DO ALL THESE THINGS TO GET ME TO CONFESS TO CHARLES.

princess george: Someone had to do it! I'm sick of watching you guys literally be in love with the other and still claim to be "just friends" 🤓

y/n:🧍‍♀️

y/n: that isn’t the point now

y/n: the point is WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

princess george: YOU HAVENT REPLY YET??

y/n: NO I LEFT HIM ON READ BC I PANICKED IDK

princess george: i'm going to have to call carmen to give you some girly advice if you don't start getting bold💀

y/n: OKAYOKAY BUT WHAT SHOULD I SAY

y/n: HURRY UP HES BEEN ON SEEN FOR FIVE MINUTES NOW

princess george: IDK ASK GOOGLE

y/n: GEORGE WTF

princess george: DONT ‘GEORGE WTF’ ME! YOU KNOW I DONT WORK WELL UNDER PEER PRESSURE

y/n: you’re a racing driver💀

princess george: your point?

[ seen 1:37pm ]

princess george: hello???

[ seen 1:38pm ]

y/n: I ASKED GOOGLE LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO AND THEY DIDNT DO SHIT

y/n: they had the audacity to correct me too

princess george: 💀💀

[ seen 1:40pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: you think it was a joke?

charles <3: Well yeah

charles <3 I mean

charles <3: It couldn’t have been anything more

y/n: what if it was tho?

y/n: hypothetical ofc!!!!

charles <3: Well I honestly don’t know

charles <3: If we are speaking hypothetically, I think I would be flattered.

y/n: and if we aren’t speaking hypothetically?

charles <3: Then I would probably still feel flattered.

charles <3: Y/n? Hello?

y/n: SORRY MY PHONE FELL DOWN

charles <3: LMAO

charles <3: Does that mean those flirty jokes weren’t just jokes?

y/n: well.. to me, they’re not jokes, but i’m not the one who made them. i wasn’t supposed to tell you yet but i’m getting sick of george so idc

y/n: i lost a bet to him and had to hand over my main social media accounts for 24 hours, meaning all the comments/posts you saw from my main accounts were made by george😭

charles <3: That explains why I saw your private accounts constantly fight with your main accounts in random comment sections💀

y/n: yeah he was really messing with me

y/n: i’ve gotten lots of angry mails from my pr team

charles <3: I can imagine😭 It's only fair that you get back at him.

y/n: oh absolutely.

charles <3: Can I ask a question though?

y/n: sure!

charles <3: Is your newest single actually about me?

y/n: yes it is. i’m sorry you have to find out like this but i really like you, like a lot. i’ve liked you for a while now but i was too scared to talk to you about it because i thought you don’t feel the same.

charles <3: That’s not true

charles <3: I actually do feel the same, and I literally had the same dilemma!

y/n: WHAT

y/n: YOU ALSO LIKE ME??

charles <3: YES!! I really like you :)

y/n: SINCE WHEN

charles <3: Probably since the day I first met you

y/n: no way i thought you hated me back then💀

charles <3: No don’t worry I didn’t😭 My brother Arthur said I always have this certain look to myself when I meet new people. He said I tend to look a little “off” when I’m overwhelmed, so that was probably it lol

y/n: oh yeah, george said the same about you

charles <3: Aha very nice of him💀

charles <3: Btw I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking this, but what are we now? I’m just a little confused

y/n: how about we take it slow and start going on little dates? like trying this whole thing out and seeing if we can actually be more than friends.

charles <3: I had the same in mind :)

charles <3: And George still has control over your main accounts?

y/n: yep for the next 2-3 hours :’)

charles <3: alright, ready to get back at him?

y/n: ABSOLUTELY

[ seen 1:59pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Y/N DID HE REPLY YET?

[ sent 1:43pm ]

princess george: Y/N?

princess charles: HELLOOOO

[ sent 1:44pm ]

princess george: CMON I CAN SEE YOURE ONLINE

[ sent 1:46pm ]

princess george: DONT BE SO CRUEL

princess george: PLEASEEE

princess george: I WANNA KNOW WHAT HE SAID

[ sent 1:50pm ]

princess george: UGH fine

princess george: Guess my finger slipped again🙄🙄🙄

[ sent 1:55pm ]

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63 and 8,379,158 others

yourusername save a horse, ride a char- COWBOY

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 268,368 comments…

user375 HELP ME WHAT

user121 girl you gotta stop being horny on the internet😭

georgerussell63 Oh. My. God.😲😲 Y/n this isn’t your private account

user54 you’re acting very sus there mate

user488 well someone needs to get laid💀

user224 simp of the day🫵

pierregasly i can’t watch this

yourusername then look away🤷‍♀️😂

user865 you’re so relatable

user308 cowboy charles😍😍

urusername_alt���� YOU DID NOT

yourusername I did xx

urusername_alt🔒 DELETE THIS RN

yourusername Nopee

carlos55sainz I’m so confused

charles_leclerc my lap is free🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername WHAT

urusername_alt🔒 wait- fr?🤭🤭

landonorris pause. stop right there.

yourusername | 📍 paris, france

liked by senelagomez, carlos55sainz and 21,488,321 others

yourusername feels good to finally have this account back

view all 170,325 comments…

zendaya stunning as always✨

liked by yourusername

user965 mother is mothering🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

user233 does a stronger word than mother exist??

user355 @/charlesleclerc you better wife her up before i do

user212 there’s no way they’re actually together, now that she revealed that george was behind all those comments/posts

user593 i was NOT prepared

charles_leclerc come to monaco, we miss you

landonorris who’s we

yourusername @/landonorris stfu you salty bitch, you’re just jealous i didn’t visit you last year💀

charles_leclerc just added to their story !

∿ taglist ─ @81astri @ch3rryknots @cs55version @fdl305 @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @teenagedreams-cl @headinthecloudssblog @mrsmaybank13 @glai1023-blog @luvrrish @hevburn @charlespear @bibissparkles @siovhanroy ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

© milaeth | 2023

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 24 — DACRYPHILIA

PAIRING: jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, manipulation, toxic relationship, ex!jaemin, usage of nicknames.

WC: 1.2k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! i am so excited to post this one aaa i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“I regret it—please take me back.”

Maybe breaking up with your ever so loving boyfriend was not your best move, yet it wasn’t your fault that he was too controlling, filled with possessiveness through and through. 

You wanted out, and you got it, albeit you were alarmed to see just how calm and collected he was, when in reality, you had expected him to break a vase or two in frustration. 

He let you go easily, which kept you up at night because that’s not what Jaemin would do and deep inside, you started second guessing your choice, wondering if leaving the guy who only ever wanted to love you, though his means were unconventional at times, he meant well. 

It all came crashing down when you actually saw him in the club, talking to a girl that was definitely not you. You couldn’t bear well with the fact that he was so nonchalant about it, not contacting you once since the breakup happened. 

Maybe it was the reverse psychology playing its trick, but you couldn’t deny it was working. After all, who would ever love you like Jaemin? Would anyone ever be obsessed to the point they’d hate seeing you with others? To the point they’d want to be involved in every single aspect of your life?

You didn’t have any answer for that, rather, you only knew that Jaemin would do it for you, he always had been doing so, which would be the initial reason for the breakup, and now—the reason why you wanted to get back to him. 

Which brings you to his place. He let you inside gently, as if he wasn’t surprised to see you. His calm demeanour had your mind turning into a fiasco. 

“Do you not care about me anymore?” You asked, voice breaking pathetically as you held back a sob. 

He looked at you normally, “you’re the one who wanted to break up,” he shrugged. 

And it hurt. It hurt to see him being so unbothered about the situation. The fault was yours, you’d agree but it would have been better had he been mad at you instead. 

You felt tears pricking your eyes, bottom lip trembling as you took a step towards him, “do you really not want me anymore?” You asked, embarrassed for being a hypocrite. 

“You left me, baby,” he said, heart fluttering when you called you the term of endearment. 

He had a frown on his face now. 

“How would I have any say in that, hm?” He asked, stepping closer and you rushed to pull him into a hug. 

“Please, take me back,” your voice came out muffled as you buried your face into his neck, completely missing the smirk which settled on his face. 

This was his plan all along. 

His monotonous look returned right when you leaned back, and lord he swore you looked beautiful with crystalline tear drops cascading down your cheeks. 

He hadn’t even touched you and here you were, wasting your precious tears on him, not knowing that he’s all yours, he’ll always be yours. 

“Please?” You whimper, pulling him closer by his nape in an attempt to kiss him, and he lets you. 

He lets you pour all your feelings into the kiss, tasting the saltiness of your tears as he doesn’t do much to reciprocate it, despite loving every second of it, which only makes you kiss him harder. 

He groans into your mouth, “now you realize it, huh?” He mumbles against your lips, hand gripping your cheeks now, which makes you mewl, “I’ve been treating you so well, baby, and you do what? Break up with me?” He clicks his tongue, “doesn’t sound fair to me now, does it?”

It doesn’t take him any effort as he picks you up, carrying you to the bed as your heart starts racing that maybe, just maybe, he was gonna let you back into his life, even if it means you’d be punished for acting out. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again, which was not acknowledged by Jaemin at all as he threw you on the bed, a soft oof leaving your mouth at the impact. 

“Why should I take you back, hm? Did you go off to other men while I wasn’t with you?” He asked, fuming with anger when he knew that you didn’t do it. 

He kept a check on you after all. 

“N—no, I wouldn’t do that,” your lip trembled, excitement coursing through your body as he got on top of you after getting rid of his T-shirt. 

“How can I be so sure?” He asked, wrapping his fingers around your neck, applying the best amount of pressure, another drop of tear leaving the corner of your eye, “oh, baby. You can’t make mistakes and expect me to forget them just by crying now,” he shook his head, lips so close to yours. 

“I—I really didn’t go t—to anyone else,” you hiccuped and he chuckled, loving every second of watching you break down. 

The sight was beautiful, his cock was harder than ever and he hadn’t even touched you, “yeah?” He asked in a whisper, and you nodded, feeling small under his predatory gaze. 

“Guess I’ll have to claim your body as mine again,” he mumbled, your eyes widening as he shoved his hand down your pants, only to find you wet, the damp underwear sticking to your cunt uncomfortably, “that desperate to have me back, princess?” He chuckled deeply. 

You could feel your body vibrating with his, all his muscles on display and guilt clear on your face as you took him in. 

You couldn’t understand why you left him, and you couldn’t understand how he was ready to take you back so easily, the thought making you cry all over again as you nodded, “want you, want us.” 

“Prove it, cry for it, baby,” he whispered, taking your pants off along with your panties, the cold air hitting your core making you hiss. 

You wanted to cry, you really did, and it was hard to stop your tears which unbeknownst to you, turned Jaemin on even further, he stared at your pretty face while pumping his cock, which was harder than ever. 

“Beg for me to take you back, beg for me to claim you again,” he mumbled against your neck, biting and sucking harshly, your pain inflicting pleasure on him. 

He doesn’t give you a second to prepare yourself as his dick head prodded at your entrance, pushing himself in with the intent of bottoming out, which was easy given how wet you were, yet the stretch was too much for you to take in. 

You were blabbering nonsense at this point, begging and letting your tears fall freely as he marked you up, to make sure that you never leave him again, to make sure his marks stay on you for a long time, “so pretty when you cry,” he chuckles, thrusting harder by second to hit the deepest spots in you.  

Your breathing grows heavier and you could sense your orgasm approaching, your eyes rolling back to your head as your back arches, bliss beginning to form in your lower abdomen, “I’m sorry!” You cried, holding him close as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

But, he didn’t stop there, continuing to fuck you, laughing as he saw how disoriented you looked when this was just the start. 

It was supposed to be your punishment after all. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[shelby-fangirl00]

Empty Spaces-part 4 (final part)

Closing this story up! This isn’t my best work, I’m terrible at wrapping stories up! Thanks to everyone who reads and supports me. It means the world to know that I’m not alone in my nasty Tommy Shelby fantasies😂

Warnings: little plot, smut, age gap, cheating, fluff

The next 24 hours felt like a blur. Mrs. Shelby demanded that you leave after she found you and Tommy. You ran out of the restroom, embarrassment and shame flooding over you. As you listened to both of them practically screaming at each other, you frantically ran up the winding staircase to pack whatever you could into a single bag and head out. You knew that you'd have to leave and you would rather not stick around and find out.

Now, you sat on a dusty old kitchen chair in your parents flat. You looked out the window to see the familiar dark empty streets. How did this all happen so fast? You were so ashamed. Your parents were furious enough. Sparing them the details and disappointment, you said it was just an elimination of unnecessary staff. You wondered how far that lie would get you though.

How original of you. A lousy maid sleeping around with the man of the house, only to be thrown away. He wouldn’t remember you for anything. He’d never remember your face, your voice, the way you carried yourself. No one ever would. You were just another body to him. But you’d remember Tommy. You could never forget a man like that.

Before your mind completely took over, you grabbed your coat and a cigarette, heading for the front door. The cold air nipping at your cheeks relaxed you.

As your thoughts continued racing on what your next move from here would be, you almost didn’t notice a car door slamming shut a ways away. But you knew that broad shadow.

“Why are you here, Tommy?” You asked, the exhaustion present in your voice.

“Go for a drive with me?” He said, ignoring the question.

Like you’d ever say no to him.

The entire drive, you both were silent, not knowing what to say. He drove through the bumpy streets of Small Heath and into the countryside. The only light came from Tommy’s car. He pulled off to the side of the path, placing it in park finally.

More silence and even more silence.

“Why’d you take me out here?” You whispered, scared of what he would say next.

Without looking at you, he pulled out a roll of cash from his coat pocket, placing it in your lap. His hand ghosted over your thigh before pulling away, making your breath hitch.

“You deserved to be paid for your work. You were let go without any notice, so it’s only fair I pay you for last weeks work and some extra to help you get by.” He spoke so casually, as if he hadn’t just handed you more money than you ever made in the 6 months you worked for him.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, this is too much. I appreciate your offer, but I can’t.” You tried to sound as confident as possible around him.

He chuckled lightly. “Y/n, if I couldn’t afford to pay you, I wouldn’t be driving all the way into town to give it to you.”

“Well, I’ll be able to pay you back…just not all at-

“Just stop. Believe it or not, I do care about what happens to you after all this. It will help you get by until you find new employment.”

You tried to hide the smile rising in your face. He cared about what happened to you.

You reached out to lightly squeeze his shoulder.

“Thank you Tommy.” He finally turned towards you. His eyes looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“But no more money, ok? I’ll start feeling like a whore.” You both laughed, breaking the ice sitting between the two of you.

The conversations flowed from there. You never had an opportunity to really talk to him. Sneaking around never left room for that. He was easy to talk to. He told you silly stories of him and his brothers getting into trouble out here on the countryside. You told him about your strict upbringing.

“I wish I would’ve known you back then. I think we would’ve gotten on, eh?” He asked, making you blush. He was twice your age. You would’ve loved to see the person Thomas Shelby used to be, before the money and power. You tried to imagine what he would’ve been like.

“I think so too.” You said, giving him a kind smile.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Tired of the conversation, it all happened so fast. You had somehow crawled over on top of him in the drivers seat. He pulled you into a heated kiss, his pouty, plump lips bruising yours. Both of your hands were everywhere. You pushed his coat down, exposing his tight undershirt.

Everything was so fast, but you both needed this, you couldn’t wait any longer. Pulling away from his mouth, you hiked your skirt up, aligning your aching hole with his throbbing cock. As the head of his cock plunged into you, you both let out a long sigh of relief, so desperate to feel each other.

His hands forced your hips down, making you push down onto him inch my inch.

“Fuck, you’re everywhere..” you mumbled out, throwing your head into his shoulder as you tried to fit him all in.

Finally, your thighs rested on top of his own. You didn’t move an inch, trying to adjust to his size.

You heard movement outside of the car, making your head whip to the foggy window.

His hand grabbed you by the chin, pulling you down so harshly to kiss him. His tongue shot in your mouth, making you whimper against him.

Suddenly, he pushed your face away from his, making you gasp for air.

“We don’t have to hide out here, we’re all alone. Now move.” He growled, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Finally, you slid up slowly only to bounce back down onto his dick.

The sex was needy and fast, like it usually was. Something about this time was different though. You felt like you didn’t have to hide yourself anymore.

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you bounced up and down on him. You panted into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent and reveling in the pants and moans he let escape.

His big hands slid down your back, grabbing both sides of your ass. Lifting his hips up, he fucked himself up into you at an angry pace, one where you couldn’t move.

“Oh fuck yes, please don’t stop!” You almost screamed into his ear. He pounded even harder into you.

His fingers reached down where you both were connected, rubbing your clit that was begging to be touched.

“Come on my cock, please. I cant wait any longer.” He panted, the urgent tone of his voice egging you on.

Feeling the tension built up inside of you, you released it all at once with a silent cry. He kept fucking you relentlessly as you came on his cock.

Following quickly behind you, he pulled your face to his, pressing your foreheads together as his thrusts turned sloppy. His hands held your head in place as you felt his warm liquids shoot into you once again.

Your body went limp on top of his sweaty chest. He wrapped his big arms around your back, squeezing you into him.

“God, I don’t want to get out of you.” He sighed, rubbing your naked back.

You sat up, kissing him sweetly, letting your hands fall into his dark and disheveled hair. Minutes went by as you both came back to your own realities. You never wanted him to leave.

“Come back soon for me?” You said sheepishly, hoping this wasn’t his way of saying goodbye to you.

His eyes filled with a mischief and a smile krept up his face.

“I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.” Pulling you back down to kiss him, your heart swelled like it always did around him.

Even though you were just some maid who played no role in his extravagant lifestyle, he would come back for you. You didn’t care about his marriage or being someone in his fancy world. You wanted to be his escape from all that. He would always come back to his old stomping grounds to escape the noise of his new life. He’d always come back to escape to you.

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[cars-cause-why-not]

Post Cars 3 timeline (Human AU)

I'm gonna lay out what happens in my AU after the events of Cars 3. Fair warning, it gets pretty angsty and sad later on. (I'm so sorry in advance) Also, this post is really long.

(Note: I haven't planned out much with Cruz since I'm not sure who I ship her with yet so she won't appear much until I figure out what to do with her)

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

I'm gonna start somewhat before the third film in 2015. So right before the beginning of the 2015 season, Sally becomes pregnant with her and Lightning's first child. Fast forward, Sally gives birth to their son, Henry, the same night Lightning won his seventh Piston Cup. Henry is the splitting image of his father with a few differences.

Then the events of the third film play similar to the movie (except Doc is still alive in my AU). Lightning takes the 2017 season off to train Cruz and she wins the Piston Cup that year. After the season ends, Lightning and Sally finally get married. Over a year later, they have their second son, Mack, who heavily resembles his mother.

For about the next decade and a half, Lightning still races while being Cruz's crew chief. He still wins races and even wins an additional three Piston Cups. Doc officially retires due to age and health during this period, but is confident in Lightning's ability to be able to race without him. He's happy in retirement and focuses on being a grandfather. And with Cruz's help, Lightning and Jackson become a bit more friendly with each other (not friends, but friendlier).

While doing all this, Lightning's also balancing being a dad as well. About two years after Mack was born, Sally was assigned to a child neglect case involving a 3-year-old girl named Amari. Since she has no one to look after her, Lightning and Sally volunteer to take her in for the time being until the trial is over. However, they soon fall in love with her, and after the case is won, they officially adopt Amari as their daughter.

Two years after Amari is welcomed into the family, Lightning and Sally have their fourth and final child, another daughter named Sarah, who is a mix of both her parents. Their family now consists of 6-year-old Henry, 5-year-old Amari, 3-year-old Mack, and now Sarah. By this time, Lightning is 37 and Sally is 39.

For the next six years, Lightning and Sally manage to balance parenthood with their somewhat demanding jobs. Whenever he was back home in Radiator Springs in between races or the off-season, Lightning always made sure to spend time with his kids and he and Sally are loving, affectionate parents.

It's a pretty good life until Doc finally passes away. Lightning (and everyone else in RS) is devastated as the man who's basically been his father for the past 20+ years is now gone. However, he manages to overcome his grief and wins his ninth Piston Cup the same year.

But this is the point where it's starts to get really angsty.

About four years after Doc's death, and mid-way through the racing season, Sally is diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer. Initially, she responds well to the treatment, but near the end of the season, the treatment stops working and the cancer becomes terminal. Sally insists that Lightning finish the season for her and he does, winning his tenth and final Piston Cup the night of the final race.

A day later, Sally passes away at age 49, leaving Lightning a widower and single father. At this time, Henry is 16, Amari is 15, Mack is 13, and Sarah is 10. He announces his official retirement from racing and being Cruz's crew chief. He returns to Radiator Springs and manages the Cozy Cone Motel and Wheel Well Motel while raising his children. For the rest of his life, Lightning remains unmarried and never dates again.

Fast forward about nine years, Lightning’s older son Henry is now 24 and a racer in the Piston Cup under the number 91 (a combo of his dad’s and Doc’s numbers) with Lightning as his crew chief. Of course, there’s a lot of pressure on the younger McQueen cause he’s the son of Lightning McQueen and (unofficial) grandson of the Fabulous Hudson Hornet.

But like his father and grandfather, Henry is a good racer. Really good. So good that he wins his first Piston Cup his rookie year.

He wins it again the next year and again the year after that (you can probably see where this is going). Fans had a feeling that Henry McQueen would become one of the greats and maybe even surpass his father.

But sadly, Henry suffered a fate similar to his grandfather and namesake's. While trying to go for his fourth Piston Cup, Henry suffered a career-ending crash with his father watching.

But unlike Doc, Henry didn't survive the crash and died at age 27, a few weeks before his 28th birthday.

The racing world is devastated by this (especially older fans who still remember Dale Earnhardt's death). Another bright, shining star of the sport snuffed out too soon.

And Lightning? To say he was devastated is an understatement. After the funeral, he took a page out of Doc's book and left the racing world completely, even cutting ties with Cruz, Cal, Bobby, Brick, Dale Jr, Jackson, or anyone he knew from that world. He locks up his #95 and Henry's still-destroyed primary car that he wrecked in qualifying the day before he died in the garage of his old racing headquarters and doesn't touch them for a while. He becomes more reclusive and a lot grumpier and angrier. He still manages the Cozy Cone Motel & Wheel Well but does not interact with tourists much. He also refuses to go by Lightning anymore, instead just goes by McQueen.

But things don't get easier. In the years before and especially following Henry's death, Lightning also experienced the deaths of everyone who was in Radiator Springs when he first arrived. Mater was the last, dying about a year and a half before Lightning.

Lightning rarely appeared in public before and only made one return to the racing world three years after Henry's death, an event celebrating the 40th anniversary of the famous tiebreaker race and Doc's return to the racing world. There, he met Cruz, Cal, Bobby, Dale Jr, and Brick for the first time in several years. Deciding there was no time like the present, he apologizes to his friends for his behavior and they forgive him. For the last seven years of his life, they were still a part of his life even though he wasn't a part of the racing world.

However, despite all the loss and tragedy in this period, there are still bright spots. A few months after Henry's death, Lightning becomes a grandfather with the birth of his granddaughter Selina. Several more grandchildren follow in the years and he becomes a bit happier. But he's still pretty grumpy for the most part.

Lightning outlives Henry by ten years before finally dying at the age of 69, survived by his three surviving children. He's buried in the Radiator Springs Cemetary next to Sally, Henry, and the rest of his Radiator Springs family.

——————

And there you have it. I’m gonna do a separate post about what happens after Lightning’s death later when I get the details sorted out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this (and cried your eyes out)

[journel]

sept 30 2023

i have logged into tumblr for the first time in a while, simply because i needed to verify my account since i haven't been on here in years.

today i read my only entry on here, dated in 2017.

i am now 24 years old. i learn every day.

i sit in the sun, go on long walks, obsess over sudoku, struggle to get work done, think and talk nonsense (both alone and with my lovely friends), and i study the world.

the inescapable issue of being alive, what once felt like a daily battle and a crushing reminder of an inconsequential existence, now animates and orients my life. i'm hesitant to say that quality this gave me a 'purpose', but in a sense, my desire to interrogate what life is has kept me going.

while that statement seems contradictory, it is precisely that which i am grateful for: the things that, at one point, made me want to die are what kept me alive.

yet, at the time i wrote my last entry, i was 18 years old- just 7 days into being an adult, recently graduated high school. i was reflecting (as i usually did at the time) on my existence.

prior to making that post, i had only known what i didn't want– it was the life i knew so far because i felt that was all there was.

i will fill you in on some context: i had lost friends, made new ones, and repeated that cycle over and over as i moved around 4 places. i was uncomfortable in my body, in that community, and in this world.

existence, for me, was dominated by terrible feelings and experiences, amid permeating, unsolvable questions.

i was 5 years old when i felt this for the first time. i stayed up late a lot, and one night i asked myself what 'nothingness' felt like. for a brief moment, i laid in bed and felt the weight of this; it was terrifying and liberating.

growing up religious, mostly in a small community (i'm queer, mixed-race, and a leftist, hello tumblr community), i felt uncomfortable, but i didn't know why. i was poor, my friends were usually rich.

my mom mostly raised me, and was constantly ruled by statistics on 'children raised by single mothers'- god forbid an immigrant mother on top of that! my, at one point, separated-but-still-living-together parents would fight often and intensely. my relationship with my 'sometimes' emotionally abusive father was, and remains, complicated.

my parents didn't know how i could be unhappy. i felt like i was betraying them, but it also felt like no one wanted to listen.

i did a lot of drugs, drank, and lived recklessly. somehow, i also put pressure on myself in nearly every aspect of my life, even though i felt like i didn't care about anything. still, it felt like people wanted that from me and i knew at the very least that i cared about people (just not myself). i had a jam-packed schedule and stayed up at night smoking weed and making (really sad) art.

i hurt myself a lot – i battered, kicked, squeezed, and sliced parts of myself that i hated – because i wanted to feel something else. i think i was working up the courage to get used to embracing the scary and desirable feeling of 'nothingness' again. in my head, none of the pain truly mattered because all of this would be meaningless soon.

at the risk of sounding thankless, i understood, and understand now, how this was animated by occasional joys– sharing ideas, making art, taking care of my dog, or long walks in the woods, for example, made me feel good. i chased that, but it was never adequate. it seemed like everyone else was doing better.

so, what i knew then beyond botched interpretations of theory, the feedback loop of pro-ana forums, nihilist posts, comedowns, and the complicated inner voice of depression and inadequacy was that i was a) confused, and b) going to be 'sad' forever.

to be fair, i wasn't wrong: i think i have existential depression. if you've been on tumblr much, i want to note that this is not a harmful regression via self-diagnosis. instead, i don't feel like it's something i have to fight or maintain. i accept it as a part of me.

an inkling of who i am today was present then, however it couldn't be apprehended; it stayed dormant in the back of my mind. what limited me was my inability to see it, to explore it, engender it, and live a life without fragmenting myself.

without neglecting how 18 year old me was probably a fully-formed and constituted person, i was everyone and i was no one. i continued being like this for a bit, and to be honest, i still find myself fighting that feeling today.

that 18-year-old version of me didn't know i would move to a new city in autumn, and that things, would in fact, get pretty bad. i was left to my own devices (not a good idea). today i see that as a valuable experience, and i fight the feeling that it was wasted time.

it's simultaneously educational, sad, and comical, but here's a brief list of things that happened after high school:

moved to a new city where i basically knew no one

proceeded to not meet anyone (except weirdos 2x my age)

got a job that was emotionally and physically exerting

used this alientation to my benefit

at the apex of my eating disorder, lost 30-40 lbs

took 4-5 different types of depression medications

was cold, sick, and tired 24/7

lost my closest high school friends in a dramatic and terrible way

crashed a car that didn't belong to me, lost all my money

wept often and intensely (didn't lose that)

moved back home after admitting defeat

went off my SNRIs cold turkey (bad withdrawals)

worked as a marketing coordinator (???) at a car dealership (???) in a small town (???)

after 2 years, made some of my money back

decided to apply for university

moved to another city (where i am now)

life didn't immediately get better; it would be cheating to say i woke up one day and it was amazing. i did do a lot of work to heal though, plus started a new career and met pretty great people (external validation actually helps a lot).

since i moved, i have also encountered a lot of genuinely shitty stuff, but i feel like i needed to repeat mistakes and really struggle to keep going and realize i could actually live. it was survival mode for so long.

i had a breakthrough the other day in therapy, where i realized that my eating disorder and my perfectionist mentality kind of took me out of that sedentary depression. it's contradictory, again, to say this, but its in these aspects of things, things that were literally killing me, that i could be alive.

the concoction i ended up with from these ~formative~ experiences– that is of, confusion (a lot of questions about the world, my existence, etc.) and the desire to change, to push myself, and to struggle– mix together to form a version of me that wants to live and, in being alive, upset the damage my younger self accrued.

i'm still building up the courage to say i am actually doing quite well now. it feels wrong to admit, because right now i want to hold that 18 year old version of myself and just listen to her. i do listen, she was onto something– she just didn't have the words yet. she also didn't know what 'recovery' could look like.

this world can be described as terrible, great, wicked, scary, fun, boring, and every other adjective created in it.

it is in this ambiguousness that i find a strange bit of solace.

i realize that i made the right decision sticking it out.

sometimes you hate yourself, and you wish you didn't have to fight so hard. i can admit that this is the way i feel now in my (multiplicitous) use of the word 'recovery', and say i am doing pretty good. it still feels strange to say that here.

life is messy, chaotic, complex. it can feel arbitrary and stupid, happy and sad, but that doesn't mean it has to be over.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Fluffuary 2023 Day 24: Hot Beverage- Glorfindel x OC

Glorfindel x Elletta

Description: After a major fight Glorfindel tries to figure out how to make it up to Elletta.

Word Count: 1.2k

Challenge made by the lovely @darthglitterfanfictionnfiction

“The last time you went on patrol for ‘just a creature hunt’ I watched you die!” The words had been echoing in Glorfindel’s heart and mind for the past month. That’s how long it had been since their fight. 

The fight shouldn’t even have gotten that big. It had started… well, it actually had started rather big. Not long after Glorfindel and Elletta reunited in Rivendell, the ellon (male Elf) had decided to join Rivendell’s guard. Part of a guard’s duty was to go on patrols, and Elletta was heavily against it when she found it. She immediately protested when he was supposed to leave, especially if he was going to check out sightings of a vicious race etc.

 Her rather intense dislike about him going genuinely surprised Glorfindel. Back in Gondolin (and even for the most part while they were in Rivendell) she always supported his decisions one hundred percent. If she had any problems or uncertainty they would usually sit down and talk things over so she could find comfort. This time, however, she refused to hear anything of it. The ellon wasn’t used to it, and without realizing it he had also become defensive when she protested. 

It all boiled over when they got into a massive fight over it. Words were exchanged, and things that shouldn’t have been said were said. Glorfindel only grew more frustrated as the problem continued to go unsolved the more they fought. He turned to storm away, no longer wishing to listen to her, but stopped mid step when she spoke again. 

“The last time you went on patrol for ‘just a creature hunt’ I watched you die!” She exclaimed. Her words were met with complete and shocked silence as Glorfindel processed what she said. Immediately the ellon froze as everything seemed to connect in his mind. It all made sense now. Her words rang true, too. Last time he’d assured her that he would be going on patrol was back in Gondolin before the Balrog attacked. 

He turned around to face his wife. She had begun crying in the time that he started walking away, which only heightened the guilt that flooded through him. His gaze softened as he took her in, and he gingerly began reaching a hand out to her. 

“Elletta…” The elleth (female Elf) immediately took a step back and shook her head. 

“Just don’t,” she muttered. And with that she wiped her tears away aggressively then sniffled before turning and storming away. Glorfindel could do little more than watch her retreating form helplessly. 

Her words had haunted Glorfindel every single day since. It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen her since their fight. No one had, to be fair. Thus far she’d refused to leave Lord Elrond’s spare room. Nevertheless Glorfindel had food delivered to her room for every meal to make sure that she took care of herself. It was odd not to talk to her for so long, and he hated it. 

He had no idea how to go about apologizing to her. They’ve never had a fight this big before. So, he began racking his brain on what to do. Gifts would not work on her, they never had. She always told him that they felt like a cheap apology, so if they ever fought he made sure not to give anything to her. No, the best thing to do would be simply speaking to her. 

That very next afternoon when one of the handmaids walked to Elletta’s room to bring her tea (she always had tea after lunch) he intercepted, taking the tray from her hands and offering to bring it to her instead. The handmaid didn’t object, but instead offered him an encouraging smile before walking off to attend to other duties. Once she was out of sight the Elf Lord took a deep breath as he made his way to his wife’s chambers. He knocked softly on the door. It took a moment, but it seemed that the Elf Lady had mistaken the soft knock for the handmaiden’s because she allowed him entrance. 

“Come in,” she called softly. Glorfiendel found himself growing emotional upon hearing her speak. Not that it was broken or sad in any way, it just felt like an eternity since he’d heard her sweet melodic voice. Nevertheless he remained silent as he entered the room, closing the door behind him with his foot. 

Elletta was half lying on a couch that stood right beside the window of her room. Her gaze had been on the nature that stood just on the other side of the window, though it was broken when she turned her head to look at him. Glorfindel watched as a look of surprise filled her eyes at the very sight of him, though she remained frozen where she sat. She didn’t tell him to get out, which he took as a sign that he could walk over to her. He set the tray on a side table by the couch, picking up the kettle and beginning to pour it into her cup. 

If there was one thing that could always calm Elletta down, it was tea. Her husband had discovered that not long after they’d begun courting. If something worried her or scared her, the first thing she’d always do was go find a kettle. Neither of them had any idea what it was about it, but no matter what he would always have a cup ready for her when she needed it. 

“I do not like to fight with you,” he finally spoke as he stirred some sugar into the steaming beverage. “I wish you would have told me about your concerns. I would have been able to help you.” 

“Help me how?” The elleth questioned rhetorically, pulling her legs closer to her so he could sit down. “By reassuring me that nothing would happen? That I worry too much over nothing? You can see how well that worked out last time.” Glorfindel’s eyes clenched shut at her words as memories of him saying those exact words back in Gondolin. 

“Your honor remains. You would never pass up the chance to join something if it meant keeping the people you love safe,” Elletta continued, much softer this time and with no bitterness in her tone. 

“I would have compromised with you,” Glorfindel finally answered. “You are right, I cannot ignore the call of duty. No matter where I reside.” Elletta looked down, and her husband could see tears glossing over her eyes. He continued. 

“But, perhaps I can make an arrangement with Lord Elrond so that I do not have to be parted from you for long.” The elleth’s brows furrowed and she looked up to see Glorfindel holding out the cup of tea for her. He offered her a small, reassuring smile. 

“How does that sound?” He asked quietly. For a moment the girl just stared at the cup in his hands, then she gingerly reached out and took it, allowing their fingers to brush against each other. She set the cup in her lap and returned the smile as she nodded. 

“That sounds nice.”

[danielxricciardo]

Can you do one with Dani? Maybe with 56&58 from angst prompts, like they have a kid from a fling but aren’t dating/together

Summary: You have a daughter with Daniel from a one-night stand.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

Word count: 1.7k

56. “I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.”

58. “I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire.”

You can boast that up until the age of 22 you were a model person.

You were the perfect daughter: you were home every holiday or birthday, you never argued with your parents and you made sure to call them every day since you moved out of their home.

You were the perfect older sister: you gave your younger siblings money without your parents' knowledge, you helped them when they asked for your help, and you tried to give them advice when they needed it.

You were the perfect friend: when your friends called you that they needed a shoulder to cry on, you were right next to them with a box of ice cream.

You were the perfect employee: you always got to work earlier, you stayed after-hours to finish all your work and to help others and you did your job perfectly.

But now you're 24 and everything is fucked up.

You moved in with your parents again and you no longer have that perfect relationship with them. You resigned from your job and from all the gang of friends you had, you were left with only one friend: Emilia.

Why?

Because now you had a daughter, resulting from a one-night stand.

You were a single mother who relied on the help and support of those around her.

Given that there was nothing more than a one-night stand between you and Kiera's father on your birthday night, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to post him on Instagram and say, 'Hey, 'sup, I don't know if you remember me, you drank a lot of whiskey that night, but we fucked and now you have a baby. Congratulations!' What kind of psychopath does that?

Not to mention that he is a public figure, of course, he wouldn't believe you and say you're just a money-obsessed girl; that if he saw the message on Instagram, obviously.

But it was going to be your daughter's second birthday and you were starting to get remorseful. Sure, you accepted your life as a single mother and you knew you wouldn't have a happy ending like in the princess books you read to Kiara, but it wasn't right for your daughter. She needs a father in her life. And it wasn't fair for Daniel not to know he had a daughter. Of course, you can only tell him and it is up to him to choose what to do with this information: whether he wants to be part of Kiara's life or not. At least you would have tried.

That weekend was going to be the Grand Prix of Great Britain and you didn't do much flying there, and, anyway, you could stay with your cousin you haven't seen in about 5 years.

Although your daughter's father was a well-known Formula 1 driver, you have never been to a race, and you were amazed by the very high prices for a ticket with access to the paddock.

You had a choice of which day to go and tell Daniel, probably, the news of his life.

You were sure you didn't want to tell him on Sunday. Before the race? Maybe he had an accident and he would have hurt himself. So no.

Saturday? Before qualifying? If you had told him then he would have gone to qualifications, he would not have focused and he would have come out on a low position. So no.

So you decided on Friday.

You left your cousin's house in the morning for the circuit where the race took place. You passed security without a problem with Kiara. You could walk through the paddock without any problems looking for your baby's father.

You knew that the best chance of finding Daniel was to go to McLaren Hospitality. On the way there, everyone you met stopped to look at Kaira, wondering how beautiful she was. You thanked them and prayed that they would not realize that she was Daniel's daughter, considering that she was almost identical to him; you could take her curly hair and smile as a positive result of the paternity test.

"What a beautiful baby!" you hear a girl standing in front of Red Bull Racing with Max Verstappen, and you immediately realize it's Kelly Piquet; good thing you documented yourself before you came.

You see her come and lean over the stroller.

"Oh my God, what beautiful eyes she has! What's her name?"

"Kiara," you answer and you look panicked as Max comes towards you.

"Look, Max! Isn't she a beautiful girl?"

Max smiles. "Yes, she is."

"What is such a small child doing here? She's going to hear very loud noises."

Damn it. What would you answer now?

"We came to walk around and meet some drivers," you answer as convincingly as you can. "It's never too early to start, right?" you giggle.

The two laughed, apparently they believed you.

But you immediately felt your legs soften and you saw Daniel walking with his teammate. You bit your lip and held on to the stroller better. All the courage left you and you wanted to leave.

"A baby!" Lando gasps and comes towards you.

Wonderful! Everyone behaved as if they had never seen a baby in their life, pathetic.

Daniel came after him, looking at you strangely. Did he recognize you? He also looks at Kiera and smiles.

You could've died there. You wanted to cry and you couldn't take your eyes off Daniel.

The next thing you saw was black.

You woke up lying on a bed, someone was holding a cold water pad on your forehead. And your head hurt a hell of a lot.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lando, who was next to you asks.

"Mhm, my head hurts."

"Oh, yes, you hit yourself a little when you fainted but a doctor came and consulted you while you were still unconscious and said you were fine. Can I get you something?"

"Just water."

"Coming right now," he says and gets up from next to you, leaving the room.

Kiera! Where was she? You get out of bed immediately, even though it made your head spin and you felt like throwing up.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down!" Daniel says and gets up from his chair with Kiera in his arms.

You look at Kiera and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You seem so familiar to me," says Daniel and you want to faint again. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He seemed to be thinking. He didn't know how he knew you and you were afraid to tell him anything now.

"Wait! Spain, 2 years ago! It was like your birthday and we did shots together, right?"

Fuck. He remembered.

"Yes."

Daniel was smiling. Did he only remember the shots in the club?

"About that night..." you say and catch Daniel's attention. You signal to Kiera who is playing with some keys in Daniel's arms.

Daniel looked at the little girl and it was as if you could see the wheels spinning in his head.

"Wait a minute..."

"I brought you water, do you feel bet-"

"Go away!" Daniel shouts at Lando. Lando gets scared and gives you your water bottle then leaves. "What were you saying?"

You bite your lip.

"Kiera is your daughter."

"Dada!"

Daniel was speechless. His eyes were wide and they seemed to be coming out of their sockets and he was looking at Kiera. You didn't know how to interpret his reaction.

"Are you serious?"

"I don't know why you think I'm kidding."

"Are you sure I'm the father?"

You snort and get out of bed, you go to him and take Kiera out of his arms.

"What do you think? That I go to different wealthy men and tell them that they have a baby with me to give me money? I came to tell you because I thought Kiera would do well to have a father in her life. But I see that her father is not interested at all. You haven't even called me in all these years."

Daniel frowns and looks at you.

"What are you talking about?"

"The next morning I woke up before you and left my phone number on a note. I left it on your nightstand."

All the color was drained from his face.

"I didn't see the note."

You snort again.

“I realize it was a bad idea. I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.” you say and a few tears run down your face.

"Hey, hey, hey! You don't get to cry! I found out I lost the first few years of her life! You should have come earlier to tell me! You could come here, I don't know, you could contact me on Facebook, Instagram!"

"Yeah, sure! You doubted me now, if you'd have woken up with a message from me on Instagram you would have believed me immediately!"

"I believe you now," he says and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Please, I want to know more about her life. Can you stay?"

You looked at him with tears in your eyes. Is this really happening?

You both sat on the bed and Daniel took his daughter in his arms.

"Her full name is Kiera Hazel. In two weeks she'll be 2 years old." you start saying it with a big smile on your face. "Her first word was 'dada'."

Daniel laughs and looks at her.

"Was it hard to raise her alone so far?"

“I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire. I had to resign from work because I couldn't divide my time between work and her, I moved back with my parents... All my friends left me, so yes, it's been pretty hard. But it's worth it when I see her smile.”

"I'm sorry you had to go through this alone. If you allow me, I want to be in her life. I want to help you."

"That will be great, actually," you smile.

[doctorgerth]

Hi coop! Welcome back, I have missed you! I hope you're doing all right. I hope to snatch a spot for your valentine's event UwU. Izo, Kiku or Sabo, “I didn’t take you for the settling down type.” (prompt 39) with as theme: a night in, and maybe reader proposes to take the next step and move in together? Fem reader, slight modern AU, but whichever works best for you! I trust you and your talent wholeheartedly. Sending smooches and good valentine's vibes already!

❥ “Stay” - Valentine’s Day Event Scenario [ 3 / 14 ]

❥ prompt: “I didn’t take you for the settling down type.”

❥ theme: A Night In

❥ pairing: Izo x F!reader

❥ warnings: none

❥ word count: 1.3k

❥ a/n: this is my first time writing Izo and I’m not so sure I did that great...idk, I hope this turned out to your liking, Hazel! thanks for always being so friendly and supportive! hope you’re doing well, honey 💕

“It’s getting late, I should probably head home.” Izo whispered against your temple, placing a chaste kiss along your skin, “I’m sure Kiku is getting tired of waiting up on me.”

You groaned loudly as you writhed in his embrace, squeezing him tighter into you and refusing to let go. Izo was taken aback, you could tell, and that only made your cheeks burn hotter.

You had always prided yourself on being independent, after all. The two of you had a healthy balance of couple time and personal time, and you usually weren’t one to question it. But after two years of dating and nearly a year of sleepovers, you were beginning to grow tired of only keeping Izo to yourself for a day or two, three days at most. It was getting harder to say goodbye lately, no matter if he was coming over the following days, and the days and nights without him were beginning to take their toll on you.

Needless to say, this all made you realize how badly you wanted Izo in your home, in a more permanent setting. But how would you ask? How would he respond? Would he think you were moving too fast? Your thoughts raced with countless what ifs, making you snuggle harder into him for comfort.

He chuckled, allowing you to entrap him as he patted your head gently, “You’ve been awfully clingy today. Is everything okay?”

Of course he noticed. You eyed up at him with a defined pout on your lips. Izo had to restrain himself from kissing those cute lips of yours back into the warm smile he adored, instead he further inquired, curious as to why you were so against him leaving. It was always within the plan that Izo would head back home for the night.  

“I want you to stay.” You whined, hiding your face in the crease of his shoulder to conceal your embarrassing confession. It was the truth, but clearly he didn’t pick up on just how long you wanted him to stay as he laughed lightly once more.

“Love, you know I’ll be back over tomorrow.”

“I know…”

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting you up to look at him, “What’s on your mind?”

Damn him. How were you supposed to be honest when he looked at you like that? Your eyes dropped guiltily, “It’s nothing.”

He flicked your forehead.

“Ow! Hey!”

“That’s for lying. Lie to me again and your next punishment will be far worse.” Izo placed a gentle kiss along the wound to soothe the slight pain, “So, I’ll ask again. What’s on your mind? Be honest this time.”

“Promise me you won’t laugh?”

He placed his fist over his heart and stared at you sincerely, “I promise.”

You inhaled deeply as you took his hands in yours. Izo grew concerned as you were silent and mindlessly rubbed your thumb along the top of his hand. Just as he was about to speak up, you broke the silence.

“What if, hypothetically speaking, I asked you if you wanted to move in with me? What would you say? Hypothetically?”

“I’d say…” He pondered for a moment, “that I didn’t take you for the settling down type. Hypothetically.”

Well that certainly wasn’t the answer you were expecting. Was that his way of saying no?

“You think I don’t want to be with you long term?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So...you just assumed we would live separately forever?”

“No! Okay, maybe that came out poorly.” It was his turn to hold your hands and rub at them in comforting motions, “I just know you like your space, and I’ve always been respectful of that. Are you sure you’re ready for me to intrude your space 24/7? Because you know...if we move in together…” He snatched you into his arms with a wide, mischievous grin on his lips, “That only opens up the opportunity for me to annoy you 24/7.”

You giggled, “Would it be wrong of me to say that I want you to annoy me 24/7?”

He beamed, and your heart swelled in your chest as you were convinced it was the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face, “Not at all. But you should be more careful with your words, because I will most definitely use that confession to my advantage some day.”

Izo’s body tingled with pure happiness as you laughed heartily and tangled your fingers in his hair. He wanted to stay like this with you forever. To think that you were offering him the opportunity was heartwarming, almost overwhelming. He pulled you down to rest your forehead against his, “I’d love nothing more than to move in with you, if you truly want me.” He kissed you lightly. “Waking up next to you for the rest of my days sounds like a dream come true.”

You chased after his lips, kissing him back, “Won’t Kiku be upset?”

Another loving kiss from him, “She’ll be fine. She’s been bugging me to move in with you for months now. To be honest, I think she’s ready for me to go.”

“So you’ve been wanting to move in together? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was worried you wouldn’t want to. What with you being Miss Independent and all.”

“I’m sorry, I-…”

He squished your cheeks, preventing you from continuing. “Please don’t be, it’s one of the many, many things I love about you.” He kissed your puffed out lips, “I wouldn’t change you for the world. Just don’t be mad if I get a bit clingy and I can’t keep my hands off of you.” Just as he said that, his hands dropped from your face to rest on your waist. When you felt his fingers dig into your sides, your eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Don’t you dar- ah!”

You were thrown into a laughing fit as Izo tickled you into the couch, leaving you nowhere to flee. Your cheeks ached from laughing so hard, and when you tapped out, he relented with a victorious smirk. As you caught your breath, Izo encouraged you to snuggle into him, laughing as you were noticeably hesitant to do so.

When you finally gave in, he wasted no time in snuggling you close into his large torso, toying with your fingers as he made his claim, “I do have a few conditions, however.”

“And what would those be, princess?”

“Glad you asked. I require 2 hours minimum of bathroom time every morning in order to prepare for the day.”

“2 hours, really?”

“Do you think I can manage to make myself look this good in less time?”

“Fair, continue.”

“I need wall space.”

“For?”

“My sword collection of course!”

“Oh, that.” You giggled, choosing not to voice how you had already mapped out a perfect spot for his collection.

“And…”

“And?!” You looked at him with giddy disbelief.

He grinned at you as his fingers grazed your cheek, “I want you to kiss me and tell me you love me every single night before we fall asleep. No matter what kind of day we’ve had.”

You were captivated by the pure love reflected in his eyes. You hoped he could see your love for him reflecting right back as you smiled, “I believe your conditions can be met.”

“Wonderful.” He nuzzled his nose against yours, “But…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Love, I have to go home to pack!” He frowned as he noticed you pouting once more, “Hey, look at me. Tomorrow is the last morning you’ll ever have to wake up without me, I swear it. I’m going to spend all night getting things packed up and tomorrow, we’ll start our new chapter of infinite sleepovers. Wait for me until then?”

You nodded and he brought your lips up to his to kiss you passionately, praying that you could feel just how ecstatic he was to begin this new chapter of your lives together; how often he’d dreamt of the idea of waking up to your beautiful face every single morning. He had full intentions to pack all night long, but he also needed an excuse to browse the jewelry stores early in the morning. Just to browse of course, but Izo has always preferred to be one step ahead.

If you enjoyed this, please be sure to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog! 💕

[raitrolling]

weirdly specific meme- even numbers for sharle

putting under a cut cuz theres a Lot:

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

it depends on how comfortable he feels around the other person, and if he's certain that they also see him as a friend. he'd like to avoid the awkward moments of calling someone a friend when they think he's only an acquaintance

4. What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

go-karting for fun. he started karting basically as soon as he was able to, but then that turned into a career prospect fairly quickly which meant he got competitive over winning just as quickly. so that kinda sucked the fun out of the hobby, but without that drive (pun intended) he wouldn't be where he is now

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

i'm assuming this is meant to be one where the asker specifies so i'll just do a general answer lmao

but sharle tends to be pretty liberal with recommending things if the subject is brought up, and since he travels a lot he's a good person to ask if you need recommendations for what to do on your holiday or w/e. so if there's anything he likes that he hasn't recommended yet, it's because no one has asked him lmao

8. How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

strictly quads only, and he'd only say it in private. he's awkward about any sort of PDA, so whoever is dating him would have to initiate everything if they're out in public

10. What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

he knows a lot about retro video games, especially racing games. he's like an encyclopedia of snes f-zero fun facts

12. What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

watching people freak out when he's driving them somewhere and he's taking corners wayyy too quickly lMAO

14. How do they put out a candle?

blowing it out like a normal person? though if he happens to have his racing gloves on him, he might put them on and snuff out the flame with his fingers just to show off that they're fireproof

16. What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

he doesn't really imagine arguments in his head, but he likes to imagine other people agreeing with real arguments that happened. yes sharle it wasn't your fault you collided with [insert other driver here] on the track he should have left you space (reality: he fuckin divebombed them and it was 100% his fault)

18. Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

no one, but only because he doesn't have any close romantic relationships. he's close with his teammate Tira and a lot of the team staff, but he wouldn't say he loves him

20. Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

no one for the first category, and for the second category he doesn't like velour as a person but agrees that he makes some real fine outfits

22. What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

he has a needle phobia, so having to get blood tests taken is an Ordeal for him. he has definitely fainted at least once after a test

24. Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

he would as long as his dietician is looking the other way LMAO he likes chocolate or hazelnut cookies, especially if they've got melted bits in the middle

26. How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

he'd want to know the exact reasons why he's being fired down to like the most minute details, so that he can decide if they're being fair to him or not. and then he'd go looking for a spot on another team, even if it means getting demoted to a reserve driver or helping test / develop cars

28. What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

he's not really someone who wants things from other people, so he wouldn't tell them anything. what he'd really want is someone with no connections to his career that he can hang out with, so he's not overly consumed by racing

30. When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

professional mistakes he can brush off easily. yeah he crashed his car whatever there's always the next race to redeem himself. he feels guiltier about personal mistakes because there's more to lose there, whether that be connections to network within the racing world, or friends and other relationships outside of it

32. If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

he's definitely got speeding tickets LMAO if he didn't think driving fast was fun then he wouldn't be a racer, simple as that

34. How do they greet someone they like / love?

"H3y." (amount of smile depends on how close he is to them emotionally)

36. Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

i mean that is kind of the name of the game in the celebrity / professional athlete world. he knows when he needs to make specific connections and hold onto them to secure his position as a racing driver, and tends to be more lax when it comes to connections that are less important (such as playing nice for the media). there's no malicious intent since he's not a malicious person in general

38. What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

have you ever tried to parallel park a sports car when everyone is watching you? i haven't, but Sharle has done some shocking parking jobs when turning up to the track just because there were so many people around with cameras

40. How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

'Huh, that was a loose handshake' and move on. He literally does not care

42. If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

"Why Track Limit Penalties Are Bullshit, Actually: A TED Talk Co-Signed By Half The Grid"

44. What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

Probably Spanish, since he's already fluent in Italian and French and they share some linguistic similarities

46. Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

definitely a listener, mostly because he's a bit socially awkward especially around trolls outside of his usual sphere. he'll talk when prompted or has something to add to a conversation, which usually is when he's able to talk about his own experiences or recommend things to people

48. Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

the marketing / social media team LMAO

50. What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

hmmm i think personally it's more that sharle doesn't really have any particular beliefs or morals that he stands by and prefers to coast along doing whatever everyone wants. as a public figure he could be in a position to advocate for a better cause (or the best one can get in a society like Alternia), but he just does not care for that

52. Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

he acts quickly if something annoys him and is prone to hotheadedness (especially when on the track), but in most other situations he can keep his cool and hear people out

54. What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

definitely fight lmao

56. If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

if it's a silly fear like his needle phobia he would greatly prefer it if people just Did Not acknowledge his fear at all, but with any of his more personal fears he'd rather speak to a close friend or quadrant about it. he's a very private person, and doesn't talk about what's on his mind because he doesn't think he needs to

58. How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

he really likes picking up new active hobbies, so apart from racing he likes motorbike riding, cycling (with a preference for mountain bikes), surfing, jogging, and exercise in general. the only stay-at-home hobby he has is his video games, which is something he's grown up playing so it's always stuck by him. otherwise he doesn't really try any new hobbies, he's busy enough as-is

[meganwritesfanfics]

Buried Nightmares (Jack Hodgins x Reader)

Ever since he and Dr. Brennen had been kidnapped by the Gravedigger, Jack Hodgins had nightmares, nightmares about being buried alive again, nightmares about suffocating, nightmares about being utterly alone. Never in those nightmares did he imagine the love of his life being in danger. The Gravedigger is about to change that. When the reader is kidnapped, the team at the Jeffersonian must race against the clock to save her, before she become another one of the Gravedigger’s victims. 

“No, no, please God no!” Y/N heard someone scream waking her from her sleep. Her sleepiness quickly vanished when she realized that it was her boyfriend who was violently tossing and turning next to her. She ran her hand over her face, tears in her eyes, it broke her heart to see him so troubled. Ever since he was taken by the gravedigger he had been having nightmares almost every single night. “Jack,” She said, trying to shake him away, but he was pretty deeply lost in his dream. “Jack!” She yelled a bit more forcefully and she watched as his blue eyes snapped open instantly, filling with tears. Hodgins quickly pulled Y/N into his arms holding onto her tightly. “It’s ok baby, it was only a nightmare, I’ve got you, you are safe.” 

Hodgins breathed deeply taking in Y/N’s scent, finding comfort in the familiar. In his mind he still felt like he was trapped in that car, but this time he was alone. It had been months since he and Dr. Brennan had been trapped in that car, and yet every time he closed his eyes it seems as though it were yesterday. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Hodgins sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

“Hey,” She ran her fingers through his curls. “I don’t mind being woken up, if that means I can help you fall back asleep.” 

Quickly he reached over and grabbed her other hand pulling it to his mouth and kissing it. “God Y/N, what would I do without you.” 

“You would probably be in prison.” She smiled and Hodgins  face changed from tears in his eyes to to his charming smile. 

“They would never catch me alive, copper see,” He laughed as he leaned forward kissing her passionately. “I love you Y/N.” 

“I love you too Jack.” And after wearing themselves out, the pair finally fell asleep in each other's embrace. 

They awoke to the sound of their mutual alarm, groaning. “I don’t want to get up.” Y/N said as she covered her face with the covers. 

Hodgins chuckled as he leaned over Y/N to shut off the alarm, quickly pulling the covers down to give her a kiss. “I mean we could always stay in bed all day.” 

“Absolutely not,” Y/N laughed as she pushed him back. “Cam would have your head. Plus I have class.”

Y/N taught a class at Georgetown University, 20th century political theory and its relations to corporatism. 

“Ugh, why do you have to be the responsible good one in this relationship.” Hodgins smiled, kissing her again. 

“Just because I’m responsible does not mean I am good,” She smiled seductively as she got on top of him. “We do have about 20 minutes before we absolutely have to get out of bed.” 

“Why Mrs Y/L/N are you trying to seduce me?”

“19 minutes and 30 seconds Hodgins do you want to spend it talking or…” Y/N started when Hodgins quickly grabbed her waist flipping them over, so he was on top 

*****

Once they had gotten dressed, they both made their way down to the garage. 

“You know I could always give you a ride. You don’t always have to drive yourself to work.” Hodgins said as the two leaned against Y/N’s silver Audi. 

“Can you promise me that we will be home in time for Dancing with the Stars?” She said. 

“You are such a dork, you know that,” He smiled. 

“Who made us watch a documentary about beetles?” 

“Fine you know, just go.” Hodgins laughed as he pulled her in for a long kiss. 

“I will see you later, let me know if you are going to be really late, cause I will just eat that ice cream without you.” 

“No fair.” 

“I love you,” Y/N said as she got into her car heading to work. 

It was a typical day for Hodgins at the lab, they were working on a  case for Booth, a body had been found in a freezer and they were working on trying to identify the body. 

Hodgins had been given some of the frozen bugs found near the body and he was working on identifying them and finding where they originated from. He had been working away when suddenly his cell phone rang. 

A smile appeared on his face when he saw who was calling. 

“Hey baby, what are you doing calling in the middle of the day?” 

“Jack Hodgins,” A metallic voice responded, sending chills down his spine. “You’re precious Y/N has been buried alive, you have 24 hours to wire transfer 10 million dollars to the following Cayman account before she runs out of air.” 

Jack fell backwards into his table sending some of his glass vials shattering to the floor. “No!” He screamed as he fell to the floor. 

Everyone came running to Hodgins office. 

“Jack, what is it?” Angela asked as she rushed to his side. 

“He has her,” Hodgins cried. 

“Hodgins, what are you talking about, who has who?” Booth asked. 

“Y/N, the gravedigger he has her, he wants 10 million dollars.” Hodgins said, panicking. 

Everyone's face fell as they looked around at each  other, surprisingly it was Brennen who looked the most terrified. 

“I have to get the money I have to…” Hodgins started rambling as he tried to get to his feet but his knees buckled. Zach was the one who reached out to catch him before he fell. “We have to find her.” 

Brennen quickly made her way over to Hodgins grabbing his hand. “We will find her Hodgins, I promise you.” 

Meanwhile Y/N woke with a start finding herself in the pitch black. 

“Hello?” She called out but her mouth felt as though it was full of cotton. 

Reaching out her hands she felt around for something that would give her an indication of where she was. That was when her hand fell upon something that felt like a button. Quickly she pressed a button and was blinded by light. It took her eyes a moment to adjust and when they did she was met with a sight that left her with a feeling of uncontrolled terror. She let out a blood curdling scream as she realized she was in a car, buried alive. 

[nostalgicatsea]

Common questions about and excuses for racism in fandom

I noticed that the same excuses, justifications, and questions that have come up in response to racism in fandom over the years appear in the notes for my post, so here’s a FAQ of sorts to address them. Hopefully, this will help people understand why these arguments don’t stand up to scrutiny and have something to refer to in lieu of writing a new reply every time someone says these things. 

Due to the length of this post, I made a Google doc for easier reading. Please note that several points are specific to the Marvel fandom and to the post linked above and are often M/M-focused (I explain why in that post), but generally speaking, the following can be applied to any fandom and various relationships. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS 

I can ship whatever I want. Stop being the fandom police!

Shipping isn’t activism. 

Fandom is supposed to be fun. Being told what to do or not to do isn’t fun.

I put a lot of different people in my works, and I do research about the groups they’re in. For example, I have a *marginalized group here* character (e.g., disabled), and I did research to represent them accurately. It’s not fair to say that I don’t care about diversity.

I don’t think people should write about POC if they’re white, just like I wouldn’t want anyone to talk about *insert topic you’re passionate about or interest group you’re in here* (e.g., the BDSM community) if they didn’t know anything about it.

I really don’t have any knowledge about what it’s like to be a POC, though, so maybe I’m not the best person for this. If POC want to see themselves represented, they should make their own works.

I’m not comfortable with writing POC as I’m unfamiliar with the struggles they experience. I don’t want my writing to come off as inauthentic, inaccurate, or offensive. Why are you saying it’s harmful to use this as a reason for abstaining from writing POC?

It doesn’t make sense to include every single POC in my work.

What you said and the data you have don’t necessarily point to racism. It might just be individual preference. I prefer certain ships over others, and it has nothing to do with race/I don’t see color.

A big part of what informs my shipping is physical attraction or interest in the characters.

I don’t ship _____ because I see them as brothers/sisters/siblings.

Some white characters and ships are popular in the MCU fandom because people bring in canon characterization or material from the comics to the character(s)/ship. Your MCU-only examination fails to account for ships with one character from the MCU and one from comics (e.g., MCU Bucky/616 Clint or Spideypool).

Some subfandoms just have fewer POC which means there will naturally be fewer ships featuring POC. To say that the Marvel fandom is racist as a whole is disingenuous; you can see how more diversity in the cast leads to more diverse ships in fanworks.

Some of the characters and ships are popular because white characters get the lion’s share of screen time and development or they appeared in canon earlier.

Is it racist to racebend a character?

Racist language in fics is more important than fandom representation.

My fanworks tend to focus on one ship and don’t really include other characters in general. When they do, the others mostly talk about that relationship. Am I falling into the trap you mentioned? 

I feel guilty about not including or writing about *character of color’s name here*.

How do I ensure that I don’t offend anyone if I include POC in my work?

What should I do to examine myself for any implicit biases?

The rest of the post is under the cut.

I can ship whatever I want. Stop being the fandom police!

As explicitly stated several times in my post, I agree that you can ship whatever you want. I’m not targeting a specific ship. I’m not telling you to stop shipping what you ship. All I’m asking is for everyone, including myself and other POC, to regularly examine ourselves for any implicit biases. If you’re a multishipper, are all of your ships in the fandom white? If you only have one ship and it’s white, are most or all of your ships in your other/previous fandoms white? Is the only media you consume predominantly or all white? 

Shipping isn’t activism. 

No, it isn’t and in many cases, shouldn’t be seen or treated as the same thing. However, by responding this way to POC who want to see themselves represented in fanworks more and not be ignored or written stereotypically, you’re telling us that our mere existence is a “political issue.” 

Fandom is supposed to be fun. Being told what to do or not to do isn’t fun.

It should be fun for us POC too, and it’s not when we’re consistently misrepresented or we don’t exist in this fandom. By using this as an excuse to exclude POC from your works, you’re saying that only some people are allowed to have fun or that having fun is conditional. Also, no one is forcing you as an individual to do or not do anything. See two paragraphs above.

I put a lot of different people in my works, and I do research about the groups they’re in. For example, I have a *marginalized group here* character (e.g., disabled), and I did research to represent them accurately. It’s not fair to say that I don’t care about diversity.

Just like you do research for those groups, you can easily do research on POC. Also, please be aware that this statement is similar to the “I’m not racist because I have a ___ friend/have a ___ person in my works” argument that many people use to prove they’re not racist, homophobic, sexist, etc. We aren’t interchangeable with other groups. 

I don’t think people should write about POC if they’re white, just like I wouldn’t want anyone to talk about *insert topic you’re passionate about or interest group you’re in here* (e.g., the BDSM community) if they didn’t know anything about it.

Something like BDSM is a lifestyle and preference. It is a choice. Being a POC isn’t. We can’t take off our identity every time we leave the house, the way you might keep it secret at work that you’re in the BDSM scene. 

I really don’t have any knowledge about what it’s like to be a POC, though, so maybe I’m not the best person for this. If POC want to see themselves represented, they should make their own works.

We do. Also, all of us fanwork creators make works with characters who are different from us all the time. Fandom is largely composed of people who aren’t straight cis men, yet the bulk of works on AO3 features characters who are canonically or implied to be straight cis men even if we end up changing that in our works. Most of us aren’t billionaires, but we don’t have a problem writing Tony. We don’t know what it’s like to be a WWII-soldier-turned-brainwashed-assassin who was kept in cryo for decades except when deployed on missions, but we don’t have a problem writing Bucky. The list goes on.

I’m not comfortable with writing POC as I’m unfamiliar with the struggles they experience. I don’t want my writing to come off as inauthentic, inaccurate, or offensive. Why are you saying it’s harmful to use this as a reason for abstaining from writing POC?

Your concern isn’t harmful. Reducing us to our trauma is, and you’re doing that if the reason you’re not comfortable with writing POC is that you don’t know how to write our struggles. We’re not only our pain. We’re more than that.

Not every fic has to be about the trauma of being a POC. We deserve to have fun, silly fics in addition to serious, plotty drama. We’re not thinking about our suffering 24/7 even if we do think about or are affected by it a lot. It’s not like if you write a Sam/Bucky fic, Sam is going to randomly lecture Bucky about the history of Black people in the U.S. and modern enslavement through the prison industrial complex while Bucky is trailing kisses down his neck in bed. We don’t need everyone being racist to MJ in a Pride and Prejudice AU. If you do want to include their struggles because that informs the way the characters think or act in your story, you can do so in ways that feel organic. 

Additionally, this is an excuse that we hear often; you may have heard it as people in Hollywood have used it to explain why they don’t have any, or at least any major, characters from marginalized groups in their works. If we allowed this excuse, an overwhelming majority of who we see in the media would be straight, cis white men considering who has power in the film and TV industry—and we would have to say that’s okay. We would have to say that the only people allowed to write about a certain group are members of that group, e.g., only women can write women. That’s not acceptable especially considering the gatekeeping, oppression, and high barriers to entry and success that make it difficult for marginalized people to even be in the room let alone make a name for themselves.

Fandom is no different. You’re saying that you can’t relate to POC because you’re white, but none of us POC have any problems making fanworks with white characters even though we don’t know what it’s like to be white. There are straight women who write fics about gay men and don’t feel uncomfortable doing so when they don’t know a single thing about being a gay man and the struggles of gay men (M/M can include bi or pan men, fics about gay men by straight women can sometimes include problematic portrayals, and straight men, queer women, and non-binary people write M/M too, but this is just an example).

You should be more careful when writing a POC if you're not a POC. The same goes for men writing women, cis people writing trans people, straight people writing queer people, able-bodied people writing disabled people, etc. However, there ARE ways to go about it, and while I understand the fear of messing up, the truth is everyone is racist, sexist, etc. Everyone including people in marginalized groups. Being a white lesbian doesn’t mean you can’t be racist. Being an Asian man doesn’t mean you can’t be sexist. You can see that within groups themselves. POC are not exempt from racism against other POC or from internalized racism against themselves or their own group. Women aren't free from internalized misogyny. The best we can do is to not make that prevent us from making inclusive works; if you make a mistake, which may happen, all we can ask is that you try your best to be open to feedback and grow. 

It doesn’t make sense to include every single POC in my work.

No one is telling you to. Choose characters who make sense for the story. Don’t choose them just so you have a POC in your work. We don’t want them to be tokenized. 

What you said and the data you have don’t necessarily point to racism. It might just be individual preference. I prefer certain ships over others, and it has nothing to do with race/I don’t see color.

This argument is identical to the “not all _____” rebuttal (“not all men,” “not all white people,” etc.) which places the blame on a few lone individuals and shifts the conversation away from an existing widespread problem. When there’s a consistent pattern and there are many examples of it both within the fandom and in other fandoms, it no longer is about individual preference. 

I urge you to consider the following:

If most people say they don’t write about or include a POC in their work because it’s too difficult or they’re afraid of making that character inauthentic, but they don’t seem to have an issue with writing other characters from groups they’re not in (e.g., if you’re a straight woman who writes a lot of M/M fics despite not knowing what it’s like to be a bi, pan, or gay man), doesn’t that say something?

If most people have the same reasons you do about not being interested in POC (e.g., “they’re not fleshed out enough” while being interested in or fleshing out minor white characters who get the same or even less development as those characters) or ships with POC (e.g., saying “they’re like brothers” while being interested in a white ship with similar dynamics and tropes or seeing why other people might ship it if you don’t), doesn’t that say something?

If most people give characters of color the same roles in their works even if that makes them OOC and/or the role reduces them to a (frequently stereotypical) trope, especially if they’re never fleshed out beyond that trope (e.g., the funny sidekick, wise friend who always helps or gives advice/free therapy, or responsible, mature, and sometimes stern friend who “parents” the protagonist), isn’t that saying something?

If race truly isn’t a factor for you when it comes to liking characters and ships, then this isn’t about you and you don’t have to distract people from the conversation by announcing that. That said, we should all look at characters and ships we like anyway instead of assuming that’s the case as that’s good practice. How much of your list is white? If it’s mostly or entirely white, why is that the case and why do you feel differently about ships of color?

A big part of what informs my shipping is physical attraction or interest in the characters.

What characters and actors do you find attractive or interesting? Are they all or mostly white? If they aren’t, are you drawn to any ships that include those POC? Refer to the section above.

I don’t ship _____ because I see them as brothers/sisters/siblings.

Part of this is preference as it comes down to perceived chemistry and relationship dynamics. However, POC are often not seen as romantic leads both in fanworks and the media and are just friends or “brothers/sisters” (this is why Crazy Rich Asians was a big deal). Sometimes, people even argue against POC being or having love interests in the name of diversity. You see this a lot with WOC in the media where the explanation against a love interest is “she’s a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man”; yes, they don’t and sometimes the story doesn’t need a romance, but WOC deserve love too and it’s strange that while white women can get the guy and be independent, WOC can’t and it somehow belittles or reduces them if they do. 

The way you can gauge whether it’s just preference at play or biases you may not have been aware of is to see how many relationships featuring a character of color fall under the “just friends/siblings” category for you, what you need to ship something, and how you feel about white ships with the same type of relationship or same lack of chemistry. For instance, you may say that there needs to be enough interaction for you to ship something and that’s why you don’t care much for Rhodey/Sam. Do you feel the same way about Clint/Coulson then, which has much less interaction (actually much less than Rhodey/Sam in this case)? If it’s about chemistry, are Steve and Sam just “brothers,” but Bruce and Thor aren’t or, if you don’t ship Bruce/Thor, you still “see it” and get why other people might be into it?

What do you ship, or what ships do you understand even if they’re not for you, and how is that different from ships that follow the same beats? Why are Steve and Bucky not brothers, but Rhodey and Tony are (there are many parallels between the two relationships—and one can argue the latter is more nuanced—than appears at first glance, and Rhodey/Tony can be just as sweet or angsty)? If you like the rivals/enemies-to-lovers or meet-ugly aspect to Steve/Tony, Sam/Bucky, Scott/Jimmy Woo, and M’Baku/T’Challa have that dynamic. You like that superior/subordinate-to-lovers dynamic that Clint/Coulson has? Coulson/Fury. Flirty meet-cutes or love/trust-at-first-sight? Steve/Sam.

Some white characters and ships are popular in the MCU fandom because people bring in canon characterization or material from the comics to the character(s)/ship. Your MCU-only examination fails to account for ships with one character from the MCU and one from comics (e.g., MCU Bucky/616 Clint or Spideypool).

I explained why I focused on the MCU here and that most of the fics that feature an MCU character and comics ’verse character tend to be heavily or entirely MCU-influenced here.

Also, characters of color exist in the comics, cartoons, and games too. By this logic, Steve/Sam and Rhodey/Tony should be juggernauts in the MCU fandom considering the depth and history of the characters and relationships. Ask yourself why people are happy to ship MCU Spideypool, to draw on the comics for that relationship and even bring a non-MCU character into the MCU and write him based on his comics history and characterization. Ask yourself why people are unhappy with MCU Clint’s terrible writing and lack of characterization and decide to give him his 616 (usually Fraction-era) characterization. And then ask yourself why people don’t do that for characters of color and then use “___ is a minor character/doesn’t have much development” as an excuse for why they’re uninteresting or not shippable with others.

There are many strong and interesting relationships in the comics, but only a few make it to the MCU fandom and almost all, if not all, of them are white.

Some subfandoms just have fewer POC which means there will naturally be fewer ships featuring POC. To say that the Marvel fandom is racist as a whole is disingenuous; you can see how more diversity in the cast leads to more diverse ships in fanworks.

It’s more important to see how many fanworks there are for ships of color in a fandom than how many ships of color there are in that fandom. See how few works there are for POC ships other than MJ/Peter in the MCU Spider-Man fandom despite the diversity of the cast. See how the most popular ships are white and three of them involve white characters from the Iron Man fandom (explain to me how Harley/Peter has over 1,000 works, but Ned/Peter has 436). 

And sure, you can say almost all of the Black Panther ships feature a character of color so there’s “more” diversity, but see how few works there are for them and how works with a white character fare compare to POC-only ships (almost all have 100-200 or fewer fics, with many having so few that I didn’t include them in the post, while BP ships with a white character have more works despite little to no interaction between the characters). 

Both of these, by the way, are critical and box office hits with characters who are clearly supposed to be the faces of the MCU now that the OG6 are gone. Black Panther is an award-winning critical and box office hit, and it is, more than any other film in MCU history, a huge cultural phenomenon with tremendous impact. It broke so many records and milestones, and it’s STILL breaking and making them. It has the most nuanced and balanced ensemble cast with side characters just as three-dimensional as the lead, a rarity in MCU films. Yet, its tag only has 3,966 works, fewer in total for the whole fandom than some of the white M/M ships on this list. Even if you account for BP fanworks that may have been tagged as MCU instead of BP, the number is paltry as you can see in this post. People simply do not want to make fanworks for characters of color (in this case, specifically Black characters) and don’t. It’s not about how diverse or successful a film is.

Some of the characters and ships are popular because white characters get the lion’s share of screen time and development or they appeared in canon earlier.

Yes, that’s true, but fandom has no problem catapulting white ships with minor characters into extreme popularity. See Clint/Coulson. See fics prioritizing Happy and having him show up more than Rhodey in Steve/Tony fics. 

It’s not about chronology. Many ships of color came before white ships as a whole and before white ships with the same white character they have. See Bucky/Clint vs. Bucky/Sam. 

Lastly, please don’t tell me how certain white M/M ships came to be to explain how they’re exempt or how I’m failing to consider other factors for their popularity. I’ve been in the fandom since 2012, and I’ve seen almost all of the white ships in the fandom be born or boom into popularity. Don’t try to explain, for instance, that Clint/Coulson is big because Coulson has his own show and his fans followed him from the show (this logic falls flat when you look at something like Luke Cage); that ship became huge way before that happened and way before Agents of Shield became “big.” Also, see the section above regarding screen time, development, and fame. 

Is it racist to racebend a character? 

People’s opinions differ on racebending—and often that comes from personal background and on the situation—so I can’t speak on anyone’s behalf. However, I think everyone can agree on the following:

Racebending a white character is not the same thing as whitewashing a POC. For example, making Tony Stark Indian vs. turning T’Challa white or as canonical examples, making Fury black in Ultimates and the MCU vs. making the Ancient One or the Maximoffs white. The latter (whitewashing T’Challa, the Ancient One, and the Maximoff twins) is racist for various reasons. There’s a long history of POC being erased and white people taking roles from POC, a huge imbalance in representation between white people and POC, the unfortunate perception by the public and media that “white = neutral/standard” (Bruce’s whiteness doesn’t define his characterization and development), and the way race plays a role in influencing the way POC feel, act, and are treated.

Racebending a POC from one ethnicity or racial group to another is also problematic as we’re not interchangeable. Hollywood often does this and goes, “But they’re still a POC! We’re being diverse!” 

In general, people who racebend white characters to POC want to see more POC in canon and in the media! These aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes people racebend because they’re not represented at all in their works. (This happens with other marginalized groups too; for instance, some people make cis characters trans in their fanworks as there are few to no trans characters in the canonical source.) For example, there are, as of now, no Latinx superheroes in the MCU films. Even if people wanted to, they can’t make works with an MCU Latinx superhero unless they bring one from the comics or the one Latinx superhero from Agents of Shield (if they know the comics or AoS), make a minor Latinx film character like Luis a superhero, or racebend their favorite white character and put a fresh spin on the character, drawing from their personal experience and background.

There’s a massive difference between fans racebending a character and a creator taking credit by pretending they viewed a character as non-white or didn’t see race all along when it’s clear that the character is canonically white (this is different from a creator saying they support anyone, POC or white, playing that character onscreen or onstage). 

Racist language in fics is more important than fandom representation.

We don’t have to pick our battles. Both are important! I focused on fandom representation as it’s much more quantifiable and easy to find and analyze data for than racist language on a fandom-wide scale on my own without any tools. You’re right that the latter is a problem as is racist representation in fanworks, though. 

My fanworks tend to focus on one ship and don’t really include other characters in general. When they do, the others mostly talk about that relationship. Am I falling into the trap you mentioned?

If the story is about a relationship (examining that relationship and the feelings of the characters in it) and there isn’t much of a plot outside of that, then that makes sense. However, even in situations like this, consider how much time you dedicate to characters of color vs. white characters. If the story is about a ship featuring a POC, do you spend more time on the white character of that relationship? Their white friends and how they feel about that relationship? If it’s about a white ship, do white side characters appear more than side characters of color even if the latter have a closer relationship with the protagonists? For example, does Wanda show up more than Sam or play a bigger role than him in a Steve/Bucky fic? Do you have Pepper show up all the time (or even Happy), but Rhodey is chronically absent? Do only the white characters get to be more than the tropes you’re using, if you’re using any, while the POC don’t get to be nuanced? Are there any stereotypes that you’re reducing the POC to?

I feel guilty about not including or writing about *character of color’s name here*.

See “It doesn’t make sense to include every single POC in my work.” Include the character(s) who make sense for the story, perspective you’re writing/drawing from if applicable, and central group or ship if this is a ship-specific work. For example, if you’re drawing the Avengers and you include the newer Avengers, Rhodey and Sam should appear too, not just Wanda, Scott, Bucky, and/or Carol (this happens a lot). If you’re writing a Tony POV fic that includes other characters, depending on the story, it may make sense that Sam doesn’t appear much as he and Tony aren’t close whereas he would in a Steve POV fic.

How do I ensure that I don’t offend anyone if I include POC in my work?

You can’t ensure anything as POC aren’t a monolith, but you can try to be as informed as possible and avoid common pitfalls while writing. You can do research, just the way you might research anything you’re not familiar with. You can ask if anyone is willing to do a sensitivity read while you write or before you post. You can look for betas. There are a lot of resources out there, but these are good places to start if you’re looking for more information and help:

Writing with Color - resources

Writing with Color - Stereotypes and Tropes page

Reference for Writers - POC tag

What should I do to examine myself for any implicit biases?

We should all take stock of:

our feelings about different characters and relationships, both platonic and romantic, who we prioritize in our works, and how much they’re prioritized

our decision whether or not to seek or make content with characters of color. This includes content for white ships because sometimes every white character in the MCU shows up as a side character, but characters of color don’t or all of the white characters play bigger roles than the POC despite how close they are to the protagonist(s)

the way we interpret and write/draw those characters. For example, is Sam a yes-man? A figurative or literal therapist for white friends? The bro who only cracks jokes and/or gives sage advice but seems to not have any flaws, struggles, or life of his own outside of his white friends? The BFF who thinks his white best friend is being ridiculous about another white guy and wants them to get their act together already? Does the character of color talk in the way you perceive everyone of that race to talk rather than the way they personally do (e.g., does Luis randomly and awkwardly switch into Spanish when he talks just because he’s Latinx despite never speaking Spanish with Scott? Does Sam use AAVE with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha when he doesn’t do that with them?)? 

Also, here’s a Google doc with more anti-racist resources.

Even well-meaning people can slip up or not be as proactive as they hoped they would be so it’s just good practice to check in with ourselves every once in a while and see if there’s anything we missed or didn’t notice.

[mercurydancer]

It Happened Quiet Pt 24

Bonds

_

There are different types of bonds. Some are more needed than others.

-

We are going to get the race of space!JRR Tolkien as well as getting someone else that I don’t think anyone expected but absolutely needed to be brought up.

_

“I hated you.”

The words were sudden, said without any precursor or any other explanation, and Eeth was left momentarily startled. A part of him thought that he should have expected them, even though it had been a few days since that conversation. Mace had told them, after all, that they needed to be reinforcing consent around Maul, that they needed to be actively working to make sure that Maul did not feel like their touch was owed… This was all that Mace had said he was allowed to say, and they had respected it, but there was another part of him that had twisted. And here, and now, that part was screaming.

Eeth let it go.

“May I ask why?” Eeth asked, even with the possible reasons he knew in his head, it was best to get it from Maul’s own mouth. He understood that this was what Maul was offering him. Maul stared at him for a long moment, his gaze sharp in a way that Eeth had not seen it in a long time…though that sharpness did not hold any hostility, merely…intent. Weight.

“It was not precisely you I hated,” Maul not-answered, his mouth pulling into a deep frown, his gaze still so heavy. “Hate is such a powerful weapon, such a violent tool that to aim it haphazardly is a waste.”

“I can see that,” Eeth agreed softly with a nod. “So, I must assume it was something about me that you hated, something I represented.” Eeth hummed, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth rising. Eeth could make a joke. Could perhaps even ask Maul if the thing he hated was his hair…but there was an undeniable linkage there to what Eeth felt that Maul actually hated. Eeth closed his eyes for a moment, bowing his head.

“It is not fair,” Eeth said finally, breaking the pause, the silence that Maul let rest, and opening his eyes to take in Maul’s momentary surprise. “It is not fair that I should be allowed to walk around without fear of use…and you should be aware of it since the first time you became aware of what you were.” Eeth stared at him for a moment, taking him in – this cousin species that Eeth had long…despaired of ever helping.

It was a hard thing to admit. A cruel thing that Eeth would only permit himself to acknowledge in the darker moments, the moments when he stared at a Zabrak that was often so surprised when someone asked permission to touch him… When he stared at a Zabrak who had fallen into his chest when Eeth had locked their horns… And Eeth would always breathe it out when it came…

But it always came back, and it burned all the deeper when it did.

And finally, quietly, “When was that?” Eeth asked softly. “When did your Master see fit to tell you about being a Dathomirian?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Maul frowned, “he showed me on a datapad.” Maul smirked, the look bitter, violent, “I thought they were in pain. It took further research of my own to realize that it was meant to be pleasure. And then no matter where I looked on those datapads that was the only thing I saw.”

For a moment Eeth felt the urge to vomit, biting it back…

But Eeth said nothing, only waited.

Maul’s smirk faded, drawing inward when Eeth said nothing and then finally, quietly, “When I realized that we were a subspecies…” he trailed off for a moment before giving a brief bitter laugh. “I always thought that was funny,” Maul breathed softly. “Subhuman, subspecies, subpar…” the words were sing-song and bitter, “to know that these Iridonians shared my label of Zabrak without sharing any of the burdens…without sharing any of the desire…” Maul stared at him. “I hated them. I hated them because they could walk through a tavern and not have hands automatically reaching to grab them. They could stand in an alley and not be approached like they were made for it. They could walk and not be eye-fucked by every single being that looked their way. At least until I could draw on fear…” Maul tilted his head. “I am sorry for it. I recognized that it was hardly your fault that we were exotic, but I could not…help it. I had been meaning to tell you for a while. I had been meaning to apologize…”

Eeth closed his eyes momentarily, fighting for the words, and finally, quietly, “no.” Eeth looked at Maul then for a moment, taking him in and finally shook his head, “no, I don’t want your apology.” Eeth took a breath, for a moment struggling with what to say, picking his words and breathing out the rush of hurt, of such utterly useless pity… The pity was useless, worse than useless it was an insult, and Eeth would not feel it towards the one before him. Eeth refused. “I won’t accept it,” he said finally, looking at him. “Do you still hate me? Do you still hate us?”

“No,” Maul said. “I do not…it is not your fault. It is hardly like you made us this way.” Maul was quiet for a moment, “And I cannot…I cannot hate you.” Maul laughed briefly, the sound bitter and choked, before looking up at him. “You broke me.” Maul frowned, staring at him for a moment, “you broke something in me, and I do not know what it is, but I cannot look at you and feel hate. I haven’t been able to do that since…since you locked horns with me, and I do not know why.”

Eeth was momentarily shocked, feeling something bubbling up within him, a concern, but there was… “What do you feel?”

“I do not know,” Maul said finally after a long moment, shrugging. “I feel like there is…” he made a vague gesture and Eeth felt something in his chest tighten. “I do not know how to explain it,” he said quietly. “Connection?”

“Family?” Eeth asked softly.

“Whatever that is,” Maul laughed, and it was bitter and rough and oh…

“Maul,” Eeth said briefly, and held a hand out, one open in offer, and after a very long moment, Maul finally took it. “Maul,” he repeated softly, “I…cannot…”

“You’re forbidden from having attachments, I know, I am not telling you this because I am asking for you to…” Maul said with a roll of his eyes, for a moment moving to let go of his hand, but Eeth squeezed, and Maul fell silent, and when Eeth held his other hand out in request, Maul finally gave him his other.

“I cannot share your culture with you,” Eeth said softly, meeting Maul’s eyes when he looked at him. “I do not know what my Dathomirian Cousins are like,” he said, and stressed that word so strongly, staring into Maul’s eyes, his gaze so heavy. “But I will share whatever you would like about my own. As for attachments,” Eeth gestured towards the lack of Guards, who had walked away after Maul first began speaking of being a subspecies, gestured towards the lack of cameras, and then looked directly at Maul, “who is there to know?”

Maul stared at him for the longest time, his eyes so confused, the look so quietly worried, “But I…” he breathed softly, “I do not know what it means…”

“I do not either,” Eeth said with a brief smile, “but we can figure it out together. Would you like to try and put a label on it? On what this is? Cousin, perhaps? Or…or…brother…”

“I forgot to tell you,” Maul said, and his voice sounded a little breathless, his expression so lost, his gaze sharp and distant all at once… “I chose an age. I…I’m eighteen…”

And Eeth felt the smile on his face pull into something warm and something soft, “Then perhaps brother is a bit of a stretch,” he grinned.

“How old are you?” Maul asked and Eeth laughed.

“One-hundred and nine.”

“What the fuck?”

Eeth laughed loud and he laughed long, startled at the suddenness of the exclamation, the plainness to it, Maul’s completely nonplussed expression sending him into further bursts of laughter whenever he looked back at him. Maul’s expression soon morphed into mild annoyance and Eeth finally bit it back, breathing it out a brief moment later. “One-hundred and nine,” he repeated with a smile. “Iridonian Zabraks are quite long lived.”

“I had heard…” Maul mumbled briefly and then he frowned. “You said easily half your age…”

“Well of course it’s easily, I’m a little over six-times your age.” And Eeth laughed at Maul’s completely nonplussed expression before sobering again, “I do not know how long a Dathomirian one lives,” Eeth said quietly. “From what I understand Wither was around fifty, but he was cut short so suddenly…”

“I have never seen an elder Dathomirian,” Maul said, voice so soft. “Outlive their usefulness perhaps.”

Eeth grimaced and squeezed the hands that he still held. “Listen,” Eeth said, “Perhaps it is a mistake to try and define it, to put a label on it. It is familial, it is attachment, it is there, and it is good.” Eeth tilted his head, “Perhaps that is enough.”

Maul took that in for a moment and then slowly nodded.

Eeth grinned, and then laughed, “Goodness,” he said, “I feel like I was underprepared for this,” he laughed. “I came in to talk to you about your lessons and…”

“I am sorry,” Maul said, his expression shuttering, once again going to pull his hands back.

“No!” Eeth squeezed them again, shaking them, “no, please. You must…” Eeth took a breath, “I understand, Maul, why you often feel as though you must somehow appease me, or anyone else you feel as though you have somehow inconvenienced, but it is not necessary. Not in this, not with me. I do not…I am not upset.”

Maul took that in for a moment and then slowly nodded. “I apologize for springing it on you regardless,” he said roughly, “I had been thinking and I decided to…” Maul looked up at him for a moment, “I have been told nothing for my entire life. And what I have been told has been mostly lies. I do not…I do not want to do this, I do not want to be this, and I decided…that to not tell you, to simply let it…to let it fester and never speak of it…”

“I understand,” Eeth said gently, “I do, I do not blame you… Maul it is alright.” Eeth took a breath. “Perhaps…” he frowned. “Well…” he huffed, “if I am going to flaunt a millennium of tradition and jump into attachment with a Sith of all things,” he grinned and Maul ducked his head, smirking, “I might as well go all the way. Do you know what a Force Bond is?”

“No,” Maul frowned. “What is it?”

“There are different types,” Eeth explained, “a Padawan Bond is one that we have with our Padawans, hence the name, and I must admit to being unsurprised that your Master never utilized one with you. It does allow for a resonance between the both of you, it is not a direct line…”

“It is not like a literal hole in my shields,” Maul hissed, and Eeth grimaced.

“Yes,” he agreed softly. “But there are different types. Force Sensitive Zabraks that are not Jedi do tend to share a familial link, and from what I understand it is instinctive.” He leaned closer then, grinning, “so we have a ready-made excuse if it is discovered.”

Maul nodded firmly, “that is good, I would not wish for you to get in trouble for this.”

Eeth’s smile faded a little, but he rallied, letting it slide to something softer. “It will allow for a certain resonance. Strong feelings, thoughts if you wish to share them, but it is not invasive. If the other person does not wish for you to be in their head, you will not be in their head. You are able to keep them out. If anything, it is sort of a…reminder, that the other person is there.”

“How do you know this?” Maul asked, frowning. “If you are not allowed…”

Eeth smiled at him, and quietly, softly, “You would not be the first I have this bond to.”

“I am not?” Maul asked, and Eeth grinned.

“No,” he smiled, “I looked into this because I had formed one quite suddenly, with another Zabrak. You have not met him yet, but his name is Agen Kolar.”

“Agen Kolar,” Maul repeated quietly.

“He actually very much wishes to meet you,” Eeth said, “and he has been very patient.”

“I…” Maul frowned, “I…would like to meet him, I think…if he is…if he has a bond and…”

“He will be very happy,” Eeth said, “but you do not have to do so immediately.

We will work up to it. But yes, you are not the first I have made a bond with, and I would be very happy to break the rules on purpose. Agen was a surprise,” he laughed, “a welcome one, but a surprise, nonetheless. With you I would like to make a choice. Would you like to make a bond with me?” Eeth smiled, “you do not have to choose now, but I do want you to know that it is on offer…”

There was a pause as Maul considered visibly, his brow furrowing.

“How…” Maul frowned, “how do we go about this?”

Eeth beamed at him, “First, you need to reach out to me,” he said, “as I said it tends to be instinctual, though…” he frowned as Maul’s expression tightened, “it is true that you have been taught to ignore…quite a lot of these instincts.”

Maul said nothing for a moment, “is there a possibility we get the wrong Bond?”

“No,” Eeth laughed, “there are spousal bonds of course, and they are a bit deeper than a specific familial one, but they are meantto be. You have to actively pursue that, and I do not think…” Maul made a face and Eeth cackled, “precisely. A Padawan bond is also very specific, and the Padawan is guided into it. But this…should snap in place as soon as it is on offer. If it does not immediately then that is not an issue, and we can try again later. If this is a decision that we make together to pursue, then we will find a way to get it to work.”

“How did you learn all of this?” Maul asked him, “I cannot imagine that Jedi allow spousal bonds…”

Eeth laughed aloud, “I learned it the same way I learned what the bond between Agen and I was, I asked, and was informed of it all by an elderly Zabrak woman that laughed at me. She laughed at me!” Eeth watched as Maul smirked, amusement visible in his face and grinned himself. “She told me what the bond was in my head and told me about the others that I was missing. I believe she pitied me. It was not a good feeling. And Maul…I do want you to understand something…I do not view you with pity. Not ever.”

Maul nodded once sharply and Eeth breathed out. Eeth watched as Maul clearly visibly thought for a moment, and then seemed to make a decision, and for just a moment Eeth felt a slow tendril of heat reach out towards him, and then just as suddenly…

It stopped, pulling back, and Maul’s expression, his hands…

“Maul,” Eeth said gently, “it’s alright,” he smiled, “if you don’t want to do this right now…that’s fine. It’s understandable even. This is a very big step. All that matters is you know that it is on offer. That won’t change.”

Maul took that in for a moment, frowning. “I do not know…why it is difficult. I believe that I want it, but I do not…but I cannot reach out for it.”

Eeth smiled at him gently. “You have been in isolation almost your entire life,” Eeth said softly, “you have been with us…goodness, it will be a year you have been with us tomorrow.”        

And very quietly, Eeth could not believe how many things had changed. Not just because of young Skywalker, but because of the one before him, how many things had been challenged and they were forced to reevaluate in order to meet the needs that they had been given. The room that Maul had utilized to bind his Wodza was freezing months later, lacking the heat that Maul had brought to it, a yawning gulf in its place that would fade with time and careful healing of the room. The Training Room had similarly found itself missing that heat, though due to the constant exposure of other Masters it did not have as much, though the ones that cared for the beasts did mention that there was a spot the animals did not go, a strange chill… But that was healing as well.

It was strange how they were still working on promoting this. Strange how they had gotten used to returning these places back to the warmth of the Living Force. But it was nonetheless something that they were allowing and would continue to allow – at least until it proved dangerous. But it had not, and even the room in Eeth’s own did not feel malicious…just empty somehow, as though it missed the heat that had been there.

As it was, Eeth would have never offered this a year ago. It would not have been needed a year ago, but compassion dictated, and Eeth’s own sense of right dictated.

This was right.

It was good for Maul’s psychological and social wellbeing, he needed this, and Eeth could give it to him in a way the others could not. So, Eeth would.

“A year?” Maul asked, blinking and Eeth came back to the conversation with a smile.

“It went very quickly it seems,” Eeth laughed. “Much has happened…much has changed, but yes. It will be a year.” Eeth’s smile gentled, “How much of your life before this has been spent alone?”

Maul said nothing for a very long moment and then grinned, the look bitter and biting. “Most of it.”

Eeth tilted his head forward, open invitation, and Maul took it, pressing his horns to his. They rested there for a moment and it had not been until that moment that Eeth realized how very tense Maul was, until it slowly, gently, bled out of him.

The soft curl of heat that reached out towards him was startling, but Eeth nonetheless found himself reaching back.

For a moment, their Force presences brushed against each other, and then Eeth felt the moment when the two of them clicked, snapping in place as though they had always been there, as though the pieces had been just waiting for the moment when they were allowed to come together.

For just a moment…Eeth felt himself burn.

Maul’s emotions were sharp, violent, held in the way of weapons, buzzing in the back of his skull, a heat that Eeth did not ever utilize or brush against, so very different. The Force crackled beneath his every breath, ready to be stoked to life at a moment’s notice, rushing and powerful and overwhelming. There was so much of it and it was so deep, so raw, for a moment it seemed to open like a mouth ready to engulf him… And then the bond settled and Eeth felt the warmth slowly and steadily dissipate, slowly shrinking to the spot at the back of his skull that was ready for it.

Eeth brushed up against it thoughtfully, feeling it crackle in response, a brief rush of feelings rushing over him. Surprise, confusion, and growing steadily greater a slow sense of awe, and trickling through it an overwhelming sense of joy. Hello, the bond said, hello, I feel you, I know you, you are here. Eeth smiled, warm and bright and found himself laughing quietly, brushing back a soft feeling of Hello. I am happy you are here. And that bond burst briefly with amazement and warmth before settling, burning in the back of his mind, so different to the cool ripple that was Agen, the gentle breeze that Eeth barely even noticed anymore unless the other called out to him – which was often.

The Bond connecting him to Maul seemed as though it would not be something easily ignored, but there was every opportunity to get used to it. And then quietly, almost breathed out…

“I am tired of being alone.”

And Eeth reached out, wrapping his arms around the Zabrak he could feel had no problems with being held, pulling him closer and holding him, keeping their horns interlocked.

“No more,” Eeth agreed softly, “no more. You are not alone.”

Maul leaned against him, the weight of him solid and warm, wrapped in his arms. It was not a position he would have ever expected to be in, but he was so glad he was. For just a moment Eeth allowed himself to bask in the shock and the awe and the sheer glee that he felt at having made this step, at that heat in the back of his skull that was buzzing with a mixture of amazement and such utter…

Relief.

It was relieved in the way of a wound having finally been dressed, in the way of a man that had finally found water after being stranded in a desert. For the first time Eeth truly recognized how lonely Maul had been and the realization buzzed in the back of his skull with the heat and the soft ache of knowing.

Eeth slowly breathed it out. It was alright. Eeth had him now.

_

Maul had been terrified when Eeth had made the initial offer.

Maul had already had a hole in his shields, a way for his Master to look in, a way for anyone to look in that was aware of its existence. To have someone in his head that Maul himself had put there? To let him in? For a moment it was utterly unthinkable, utterly reprehensible.

And then Maul had listened…the idea of something so…gentle…just a reminder.

A reminder.

To truly know that he was not alone. To not wake up in the middle of the night desperate and gasping and momentarily drowning in confusion… And then Eeth had called it instinctive, something that should connect automatically once it as on offer, something that a Zabrak had naturally, with…with their families…

Maul did not know what that was. Maul did not know if this…whatever this feeling was, this connection with Eeth counted. But he did know that it was something that he wanted. Maul wanted, and he tried to allow himself to reach…

But the fear was still there, and when Maul recognized it for what it was he hated. Because whenever that fear came, Maul was chained. And here and now, with Eeth, with his hands grasped in the other Zabrak’s hold… And Maul hadrecognized those hands as belonging to a fellow Zabrak, known it as instinctively as breathing.

Maul was so used to the hands that offered themselves to him being cold, so beneath Maul’s own natural heat… The hands that were in his were like his own, a gentle heat that he barely recognized. Eeth held his hands, and all of the things those hands had done flashed through his mind. Maul remembered the file, the gentleness of those fingers, the way he cared, the way Eeth had reached, the way he had let Maul into his space, the way Eeth had laughed and always…

Eeth had always been there.

From the very first time he had talked to the Jedi, showing him that they could be trusted to not poison the food they brought him, that Maul could trust them.

Maul hadn’t believed it then. Maul sometimes still didn’t believe it, kept waiting for the other shoe to drop… But here…here in this…was this not another gesture of trust?

Eeth would have Maul in his own head. This was not a hole, it was not a one-way connection, it was a reminder. An understanding that the other was there. And something within Maul had hungered so much… Eeth had tilted his head forward and Maul had locked his horns with his, feeling once again that burst of emotion that warmth, the…

The thing that had prevented Maul from hating Eeth. The thing that finally let Maul reach.

And Eeth responded, a cool tendril that slowly reached for him, and Maul grasped it… For a moment nothing happened, and Maul felt that brief flash of wariness, the fear that Eeth was lying…

(or worse, that Maul could not, that he would be unable to, that Maul was too twisted and broken and had none of the innate Zabrakian traits that Eeth had referred to, that he truly was Zabrak in name only and there was nothing for him to reach to, and Eeth would be unable to connect to him…)

And then it clicked, and for a moment Maul was drowning.

The cool calm, the utter stillness that surrounded him was suddenly broken by what felt like an expanse, like space itself had opened up underneath him and there was emptiness in every direction, but there was also connection. Billions of souls, billions of minds, so many things all at once and Maul felt himself shrink even as he reached, desperately wanting this thing that was so far away and somehow right there, this wide and expansive pool that Maul had never seen before…

And then the bond snapped in place, and all of that cool coalesced into a single point at the back of his mind, and the bond that was Eeth rippled like waves across a shore. Maul was momentarily disoriented, stripped of something that was as terrifying as it was tempting…like the sight of a venomous snake that was waiting to bite him, to hurt him, and yet he could not stop from trying to eat it.

But all of that was slowly brushed aside at the realization that Eeth was there. The bond…the bond had worked, Eeth was there. Maul felt the gentle drift of it, the cool tendril that brushed up against his own presence when he touched it, poking at it in his mind, and… Hello. I am happy you are here. It breathed and for a moment Maul felt something bubbling up inside of him, so warm and so different and so…

Maul could feel it.

Maul could feel that Eeth was happy.

And it was such a heady realization, even as Maul felt Eeth breathe it out, it had been there. Maul had felt it.

Maul felt something that had been aching and empty within him, something he had not even realized was there, slowly start to seal up. Maul had never felt like this before, he had never… Maul had never…but his thoughts were sent tumbling when Eeth spread his arms to him, and Maul found himself moving forward without even truly recognizing he was doing so, letting himself be engulfed and pressing himself close, pulling his head back just enough to interlock the horns on the side of his head with Eeth’s, making it more comfortable.

Maul did not know how long it took before he finally drifted into sleep, but later he would swear that it took him at least half an hour.

It barely took a minute.

_

Eeth came to realize that Maul had fallen asleep right at the moment he thought he ought to be getting up. The realization was momentarily startling, feeling the bond slowly settle into the gentle throes of sleep, and then Eeth found himself smiling. For a moment he contemplated the idea of simply sitting there, but anchorless as they were it would be a poor sleeping position and would ultimately lead to pain for the both of them. Not the way to introduce a proper Zabrak Clutter, which Eeth rather thought Maul would be a bit leery of anyway…once he woke up.

And this begged the question of why Maul had been so quick to fall asleep, even with the bond – which admittedly could be a bit exhausting once it had formed – for him to have fallen asleep in that manner suggested that he had already been close to exhausted. Eeth did not think that Maul was that comfortable with him, regardless of the bond. Something like that took time.

So…Maul was likely not sleeping well, and the reasons for why could be many, but for now, Eeth gave the briefest frown, and then used the Force to pull the blankets and mattress from Maul’s bed, carefully arranging it around the two of them, and gently, carefully, eased them back down into it.

After a moment where he adjusted Maul against him, he settled, content to meditate or sleep until Maul woke up, whichever came first.

_

Maul came to with something in his space that he was not used to feeling. It took him a moment to realize it was abeing, but once he did the rush of panic, anger, fear rushed through him, and then just as suddenly, a rush of calm, peace, you are safe…

What was that? What…what…?

Bond, there was a bond, connecting him to Eeth, Eeth to him, Eeth had felt his momentary burst of feelings, and similarly had sought to reassure… Maul blinked his eyes open, registering that he had remained with his horns locked in Eeth’s, but the two of them had otherwise curled around each other, and there was a…vibration…coming from Eeth’s chest.

“Easy, Maul,” Eeth said softly, that vibration running through his voice. “You’re safe, it’s just me. I’ll let you go now; you can get up.”

Maul took this in for a moment and then felt as Eeth uncurled his arms from around him, and Maul pulled back, almost having to force himself to unlock their horns, finding himself backing away. For a moment Maul didn’t understand, looking to the mattress, the pile of bedclothes, and then looking over to Eeth, and then with a frown, “I fell asleep?”

“You did,” Eeth confirmed.

And Maul did not know what to say to that, could not…

“Have you been sleeping okay?”

Maul grimaced tightly, looking away, and found his gaze drawn to the Guards that had returned and…the humiliation he felt was hot and bright and then softly, “It is alright that you fell asleep, Maul. Frankly, it’s a very natural reaction. You are after all a Zabrak…” and Maul turned to Eeth, who was looking up at him with his gaze so firm, “it is alright to fall into instinct every once in a while. It’s perfectly natural. You have not had the opportunity to experience a clutter,” Eeth added, “the fact that your body fell into the lure of it is absolutely understandable, particularly if you have not been sleeping.”

Maul…was not sure how to take that, was not sure… But he finally dipped his head in acknowledgement. He recognized the fact that Eeth was still prying, recognized, too, the way the still pools of the Guards never once grew obtrusive.

Eeth gave his own nod, and stood, frowning down at the blankets and the pillow that he had scattered, “I apologize for making a mess,” he said, “I will clean that up.”

Maul turned his attention to the Guards after sparing a quick glance at the time piece and finding he just didn’t know when he had fallen asleep. A brief flash of realization hit him that he had actively allowed time to slip by him, and the lack of fear was briefly heady. It felt a bit like taking a step forward. Either way, Maul turned to them and quietly, “How long…?”

“Two hours Lord Maul,” the one to his left said. “Eeth’s lesson is just about to end. No one else has come.”

And it was…relieving.

“Oh,” Eeth laughed, “well, that is good timing then,” he smiled, stripping the sheets, and putting them in the chute that would send them to the laundry to be cleaned. “I will simply call this lesson for today finished, Lord Maul,” he said with a brief dip of his head and Maul suddenly…

“Maul…Maul is fine,” he said roughly, because he had let this man into his head, unobtrusive as it was, it was nonetheless true. And Maul could feel it, could feel the way that it did not brush against anything or himself unless he connected with it, and even then, he could equally feel how Eeth kept his distance. Not out of…not of the desire to keep Maul away, but out of…perhaps…consideration for how he felt.

Eeth beamed at him, “Thank you, Maul,” he said with a bow of his head.

Maul returned it, and that was when Maul felt Plo coming towards them, the signature something he had begun to remember.

“Well,” Eeth smiled, “seems my lesson is up. Have a good lesson with Plo, I do believe he should be bringing you lunch.”

“Thank you,” Maul said.

“Thank you,” Eeth returned with a bow of his head, and approached the ray shield, which opened and allowed him out.

Maul heard Eeth exchange brief pleasantries with Plo, and found his attention briefly drawn to the plant. He had to water that today.

Maul thought of telling Plo, wondered if he would form a bond just as easy, and then dismissed it, something twisting inside of him at the thought.

Maul could not get rid of the thought of red blood on his hands, blood on the floor, blood covering the man who had held out a helmet to him, that called him something he still did not know… Maul could not get rid of the image of eyes that stared at him with something he could not name.

For a moment Maul was terrified that Eeth had seen, that he knew…but the bond did not stir. There was no brush of concern or horror. There was nothing.

Maul did not know how to react to the complete absence of reaction, for a moment so shocked… Though he wondered if it had to do with the way Maul naturally shielded those emotions. Maybe hiding them under his natural burn in turn hid them from Eeth… It seemed to work on the Jedi that were around him when he did not have that connection, and if this truly was as noninvasive as Eeth said… And then Plo was waiting to be admitted and Maul forced himself to incline his head in acknowledgement and agreement. The ray shield turned off and Plo stepped in.

“Lord Maul,” Plo said with a smile, holding out the tray containing his lunch. “I have brought you food.”

Maul inclined his head in thanks and the two of them sat, beginning the familiar ritual of Maul eating on his own in silence.

This did not last as long as he had expected.

“Lord Maul,” Plo started, and Maul made a confirming hum, taking bite of some type of white fish, flaky and rare. “The Council has been in talks recently about letting you out among the Jedi.”

Maul blinked, freezing mid-chew, looking up to meet those eyes behind those protective goggles, for a moment not entirely certain what he was hearing.

“You would be returned to your cell and escorted,” he said, “but we were talking about letting you eat among the general populace.”

Maul swallowed heavily, for a moment not sure what to say, how to respond… Was that something that he even wanted?

Maul wanted…he wanted out of this cell, that was certain, but to be surrounded by so many…

“It would be in the night cycle,” Plo said softly, “since you have a natural tendency for late nights, and while it is true that we have nocturnal Jedi like yourself, there are fewer of them. You would not have to worry about being surrounded on all sides. A few of the Council Members, myself included, would sit with you at first, but it would begin getting them used to your physical presence as well as your signature, and you to them.”

Maul took this in for a moment, his senses spreading wider than he usually allowed them to amongst the Jedi, brushing against the seemingly infinite number of cool pools, and similarly feeling the moment they brushed against his own. There was no hostility to the gesture, and Maul had a moment to realize that they truly had gotten used to him, though there were brief flashes of wariness, there was no... bite, no ice to these pools. Maul idly thought of those moments when he had allowed himself to burn truly, and knew that while they would have drowned him out, there was no doubt that he had…

Maul had been here a year. He had been out of the collar for a month, and he had done nothing. Now was another opportunity to prove he would continue to do nothing.

“You do not have to decide immediately if this is something that you wish to do, it is merely…something to think about.”

Maul took that in for a moment before finally giving a brief incline of his head. “I will think about it,” he agreed, and the rest of lunch was spent in the typical silence, and when Maul finished he sat back with his legs crossed, for a moment sipping at his water and then looking back up to Plo who smiled at him. But the more Maul had thought about it the more…

Maul was afraid. And the realization burned. What did he have to be afraid of? Maul was a Sith Lord afraid to be with a bunch of Jedi…the ones he had been taught to believe were his natural enemies…the ones…

Maul closed his eyes for a moment.

“Maul,” Plo said gently, “you may ask questions. Anything you like.”

“Are you sure…this is wise?”

“You must be among the Jedi at some point,” Plo said softly, “you cannot possibly wish to stay in this cell forever?”

And that burned more than the idea of going amongst the Jedi themselves, but he still felt… “What if I hurt someone?”

“It depends on the hurt, I suppose,” Plo frowned, “and whether it is accidental, on purpose, or, indeed, by reflex. We are aware that you may be put into a position where your instinctive reaction, the reaction that you fall into before any others is ‘fight.’ It is something that happens when you have long been taught that the only way to act to perceived threats is with violence.”

Maul took that in for a moment before giving a slow nod.

“Another point to mention is that the Jedi themselves are not defenseless…”

Maul wrinkled his nose slightly…

“But we have long emphasized restraint, and they are aware to a small degree of the sort of life you have lived. They are not going to begrudge it. There are some with their own triggers…”

Maul took that in for a moment and slowly inclined his head, before giving a rough sigh. “Well,” he frowned, “I suppose that makes sense. You would have to let me out among them anyway.”

“Oh?” Plo asked, amusement radiating. “You are correct of course, but so soon?”

Maul hummed, before reaching a hand out, calling a particular stack of flimsi towards him and catching it within his hand, before holding it out to Plo.

“Finished it.”

Plo blinked, and then beamed, taking the copy of Home is Behind and laughing aloud. “Wonderful, you are absolutely correct, we absolutely must take you out of this cell. You have some archives to go to.” And Maul was suddenly full of a brief burst of anticipation. All of that knowledge, all of those works… What would they contain? What would he be able to find? “And you must tell me what it is that you thought,” Plo continued softly, gently interrupting his train of thought and grounding him to the present conversation. “Did you find yourself enjoying it?”

Maul frowned slowly and finally gave a rough inclination of his head. “Yes,” he said finally, “I did.”

“I am pleased,” Plo smiled, “and this I believe actually would work as a good discussion topic.”

Maul sighed, “I see that we have resorted to forcing me to talk about this book then…”

Plo laughed aloud and smiled at him, “Well, if you would rather not…”

“No…” Maul said with a sigh, “I will discuss it with you. I…do have questions.”

“Please!” Plo smiled, “I will answer what I can.”

Maul hesitated for a moment, looking at the flimsi and then frowned. Learning about Sententious had led to his own interest in his works, and the possibility remained that this would be good to know as well. Ultimately Maul was curious. There were so many things that could be gained from knowing about an author he suspected, and so ultimately with a brief wave of a hand. “Who was the author? What was this JRR’s background?”

“Ah! And here we touch on one of the more interesting, and yet sad things about these books, for the writer…may actually be a part of an extinct race, or at least one that we cannot confirm are still living.”

Maul blinked, momentarily shocked. “What happened?”

“Several things,” Plo said with a frown. “You are familiar with the planet Aleen?”

“Mid Rim, Bright Jewel Sector, trade routes include the Celanon Spur and the Entrella Route, inhabited by the Aleena,” Maul recited easily, frowning. “There was a Jedi presence upon it at one point.”

“Yes,” Plo agreed with a nod, “though it has long been removed. But it was not the Aleena that wrote the book. It was one of the ones that live beneath the ground. The author was a Kindalo – a race of bioluminescent tree-like sentients. His name was shortened to what you see here,” he said, indicating the initials, “because apparently the names of the Kindalo are too long and too confusing for most organics to pronounce.”

Maul took that in for a long moment, “And…these Kindalo are extinct?”

“Thought to be,” Plo frowned. “There is a possibility that they still live, but due to a long history we are unable to find out. You see…long ago there was a civil war, one that broke out between the Aleena when they were still young and filled with the desire for conquest. They managed to conquer a few nearby planets, before eventually their focus turned inward. The fight between the Kindalo and the Aleena was terrible, so many were lost that they nearly destroyed each other, and a seal was placed that divided them from each other, for you see, the Kindalo lived beneath the ground, in a subterranean environment that was completely uninhabitable by the Aleena for the very atmosphere that exists beneath the surface is toxic to them, and similarly the surface is toxic to the Kindalo.”

Maul took this in, “then…” he said softly, “how was this book written? How did we get it?”

“Because of the man who met the author,” Plo smiled, “and struck up a very long and very firm friendship regardless of the difference in both species and breathable atmosphere.”

“Who was he?”

“A Cathar fleeing the remains of the Mandalorian war that swept his home planet, a man named Cleetis Stapo Lepi, though he was mostly known by Lepi. He wrote his own novels that are also vastly popular but…” Plo hesitated, looking at Maul with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. “We…will probably hold off on introducing those for a while…”

Maul found himself raising a brow.

“Regardless,” Plo said softly, lacing his fingers together, “Lepi states that due to a mixture of tenacity, curiosity, and just a desire to keep running, he wound up stumbling into the subterranean world of Aleen, and there he found JRR, who similarly was dealing with the consequences of the war that had devastated him and his people. Tragically, JRR stated that the Light went out in all his friends…”

“Bioluminescence,” Maul stated suddenly, blinking. “They died.”

“Yes,” Plo said softly, “from what I have gleaned, and what notes have been taken by both Lepi and JRR himself, Light is considered sacred important to these people. Dark is something to fear because it marks the dead, and the places where the dying are kept.”

Maul felt things snap into place.

“It is amazing what context can give you, is it not?” Plo asked softly with a smile and Maul ducked his head. “I believe I actually should have given you that information before you were reading. It was careless of me, please forgive me.”

“It is fine,” Maul said softly. “It is hardly like it would be something you considered at first, the Dark and my own relationship to it.”

Plo smiled at him. “Regardless, Lepi theorized later that if it was not for the fact that they were dealing with the same devastation, the same loss…they might not have become friends and we would have never gained these novels. To make matters worse, JRR apparently suffered from extreme guilt due to the development of an illness that kept him from the front lines…”

“That killed all his friends…”

“Yes,” Plo inclined his head.

“These…” Maul hesitated, “races, the world that was created, the languages…were they all JRR’s invention?”

“Yes,” Plo smiled, “with a lot of talks from Lepi, who talked to him about the world outside of his own, he developed his own understanding of the galaxy, and while he likely never left the subterranean world that was his own, he was nonetheless able to piece together something of his own, blended of course with his own world.”

“The Mines…”

“Yes,” Plo said softly, “the devastation that was found there, the monster that he describes and everything that was within it were apparently based on nightmares and trauma that he himself experienced. Lepi talked a great deal about how beautiful it was in the beneath, and how the deeper you went the more it opened. It was a great deal more organic in the actual Aleem, but nonetheless…”

Maul was silent for a moment, taking all of this in. “Thank you for telling me about him,” he said finally. “I believe I understand better now…”

“Of course,” Plo smiled, “it is true that we can bring our own interpretations to an author’s work and we absolutely should, you yourself gave a very fascinating spin to one, but there are nonetheless points where understanding where they are coming from can allow you to make more of an…ah…informed interpretation.”

“Yes,” Maul said softly, “I had wondered about the consistent references of the Dark to…”

“Evil?” Plo asked softly, “Yes. It is a common interpretation to some sentients, particularly of the diurnal variety. But it is not something that is necessarily wholistically true,” Plo smiled at him, warmth in his gaze and Maul looked away. “Have you any other questions?”

Maul hesitated, “only one that I wished to ask Tiq.”

“Oh, of course,” Plo inclined his head. “We do not need to discuss that one.”

Maul inclined his head slowly, fitting all of this in with everything else he had learned, with the gentle ripple he could still feel in the back of his mind. He felt so…unbalanced. To realize that he actively wished to talk to Tiq about something, even after he had given him so much already and he knew… There was so much that Maul was unsure of. After the bond had formed, after the glimpse of something so…after falling asleep held against Eeth’s chest… Maul had never been held like that before. Eeth had called it following his instincts…

And what did Maul know about his instincts?

Nonetheless, Maul was doing his best to focus on the Kel Dor and what he was offering. Maul wanted to learn. And he had enjoyed the book, and these authors…if nothing else they were interesting. The history behind them, the wars and the death. Always death. Maul found his fingers twitching, fisting them on the edge of his hem.

“Are you alright?” Plo asked softly.

Maul blinked, looking up at him, “Forgive me,” he said with a brief bow of his head, “My thoughts were running away with me.”

Plo was quiet for a moment before smiling at him, the look distressingly gentle. “That is alright.” There was another silence between them and then finally, softly, “Maul…”

“Yes?”

“What do you think of Wiseam?”

And Maul…was quiet. What did he think of this man that Maul was certain did not exist. To promise that he would swim out to him even without being able to swim, provided Fordo did not take him. Maul did not understand. People did not go so far for others… Though…

Maul remembered the promises made that people did help each other without any desire for something in return. Maul thought idly of the connection that he had glimpsed. Thought of a Bond offered from someone that technically should never have offered…

Maul remembered a small body standing between him and an upraised lightsaber. A lightsaber held by a man who had let him into his head and shown him the Wodza that lied within.

But there was still that doubt. Still that ringing in the back of his skull that questioned. There was always a limit, Maul had found. He wondered where this one lay. But…but Maul looked to Plo.

Maul did not understand and there was perhaps a part of him that was afraid.

Maul was tired of being afraid, and in the end, that brought him to his answer.“I do not understand him…” Maul said very softly. “But I suppose I see how he might exist…”

Plo smiled at him. “I will not deny that he is rare, the Galaxy needs more people like him. But I do wish to prove it to you. I recognize that this may be a battle I shall be in for a very long time, but it is one that I am willing and able to fight.” Maul stared at him for a long moment, something surprised burning within him, and then softly, with a smile, “And Maul,” he said gently. “I cannot overstate your ability to be like Wiseam. It is a matter of choices, continual ones, but choices all the same. I believe you can be capable of profound acts of self-sacrifice if you wish.”

Maul felt a sneer curl up his mouth, a twisted and mean thing, but ultimately teasing. “A Sith and self-sacrifice…are you perhaps addled?”

And Plo laughed. A loud and happy and utterly delighted sound, the smile he gave him gentle. “Perhaps,” he said, “or perhaps I give you more credit than you even give yourself.”

Maul gave the haughtiest sniff he could manage and Plo laughed. It was…it was nice…

But he did realize something, though…the thought of Eeth somehow being one-hundred and nine suddenly made all of these Masters and their ages much more nebulous. How old did a Kel Dor get anyway? Maul hadn’t learned anything about that…Maul had mostly learned how to…kill…them… But nonetheless, it was an obvious question.

“Do…you mind me asking how old you are?”

Plo beamed at him, looking first one way and then the other and leaning closer, Maul instinctively doing so as well.

“No, but I am afraid that I will not be telling you.”

Maul recoiled, huffing, “Well in that case I won’t tell you my own.”

“I’m afraid I heard from Eeth that you chose eighteen,” Plo said with an expression that had the slightest hint of contriteness…completely overshadowed with a delighted laugh that shook his shoulders.

“Absolutely appalling conduct,” Maul stated, crossing his arms over his chest. “I must submit a complaint.” Maul idly thought of sending Eeth the brief brush of betrayal he felt through the bond, but ultimately was afraid that it would cause too much concern. Maul hadn’t technically told Eeth that he wasn’t able to tell others. Either way as Plo laughed, and finally gave a quiet,

“Noted.”

He decided it was probably best to not.

“I am proud of you,” Plo said softly, that smile gentling, his look so…soft. “You are making amazing steps Lord Maul, keep it up.”

Maul hesitated and then finally gave the smallest of nods. Maul wanted to do it. Maul wanted to keep getting these gentle acknowledgements, the soft praises without any hidden cruelty. Maul was so tired of cruelty.

“Now,” Plo said softly, “shall we return to the discussion?”

“Very well,” Maul sighed, and spent the rest of the time in talks of philosophy until their time was up, Plo collecting the book from him.

“I would inform Yoda that he must honor his promise to take you to the archives, but he will be accompanying Mace Windu for your theater lesson.”

“Oh?” Maul asked.

‘Yes,” Plo smiled, “You see, Yoda actually was blessed with the experience of meeting Wither Sententious in person. He is to be your guest speaker.”

And suddenly all thoughts of philosophy and the book were tossed right out the window. Plo seemed to know, laughing aloud, and the conversation switched to the plays that Maul had been reading, tying the philosophy that they had been filled with to what Plo had been talking about, waiting until the Mace and Yoda arrived. By the time Maul could hear the tapping of the gimmer stick as well as the slower pace of Mace Windu walking next to him…

Maul was ready.

Plo was smiling at him, knowing, and Maul was fleetingly disturbed by it. Maul was not used to those sort of looks being a good thing, of that sort of…understanding, looking at him and almost…

And definitely…definitely seeing through him. It had never been a good thing before and had always led to some sort of pain and some sort of punishment. Maul was not allowed to have these wants. Maul was not allowed to have these needs, or…or express them in a way that looked like he wanted.

Maul closed his eyes momentarily, looking away. Maul did not understand how so much could be different. Did not understand how he could have found himself in this place where they encouraged him wanting.

Maul had thought that was antithesis to the Jedi… But, similarly, Maul supposed that he was not a Jedi. He wondered…

And then he heard a familiar warm hum and turned his attention to the ray shield and the beings behind it, Yoda standing next to Mace Windu, the both of them aiming smiles towards him.

“You may let them in,” Maul said, the Guards immediately doing so. Plo smiled at them both, gave a short bow, and walked out of the cell, the ray shield closing behind him, carrying the book with him.

Yoda turned a suddenly mischievously warm look towards him, “Finished the book you did?” he asked.

“Yes,” Maul said and inclined his head. “I…liked it.”

“The archives I have promised,” Yoda grinned, “tomorrow we may go?” He looked to Mace, and to Plo who had remained for a moment longer, and Maul recalled them having stated he would have further guards.

“It would work for me,” Plo agreed with an inclination of his head.

“I also have no conflicting arrangements.”

“Then settled it is,” Yoda smiled, “to the archives we will take you. Much to see you have.”

And Maul was…excited. More than he had thought he would be. It was a chance for something new, a chance to take in the wealth of knowledge they had. But that was for later…for now…

“But for now,” Mace smiled. “I do believe we have a lecture to get through. Did you finish Hamlet to the act I specified?”

“…Yes,” Maul said after a brief pause.

“Maul?” Mace prompted, sensing the hesitation.

“I…may have read it twice.” Maul frowned, “and read the others.”

“What others?” Mace asked, but there was no…annoyance, anger, frustration, only…something brighter, something amused.

“..All of them?”

Yoda laughed, “That affect Brother Wither’s works can have.”

And Maul was somewhere between inclining his head and grinning, before he remembered with a flash of surprise…

That the use of Brother was a closed practice and only given to friends, and ones that needed to be close to them. Maul stared at Yoda with the knowledge, the question burning within him, and Yoda smiled at him, warm and gentle. “Knew him well I did. A good…a good friend he was. Much we talked about. Much we discussed…” Yoda took a breath, shaking his head, before frowning at Maul, his expression so… “A great loss the Galaxy suffered.”

“Maul,” Mace said softly, Yoda cocking an ear towards him and Maul’s attention turning to the other man. “You read Macbeth?”

“…Yes,” Maul responded softly. “I did.”

“Perhaps we should talk about that instead of Hamlet today,” Mace said softly. “What do you think?”

And Maul…was filled with an odd mix of both curiosity and apprehension, because to ask was to know, but it was also to admit that it had…not been something Maul enjoyed.

It had been something that Maul found disturbing and that was something he wasn’t entirely sure if he was willing to admit yet.

Either way, Maul found himself drawn to Yoda’s soft sound of thought. “A good play this is. Heavy, sad it also is. Written after nightmares, periods of long sadness it was.”

And this, Maul supposed made sense. Maul was no stranger to venting. He certainly was no stranger to wanting to find a way to purge the utter agony in his soul… Though his methods had never been so creative. Or…created anything at all.

Maul had only destroyed.

Maul closed his eyes for a moment.

Maul had never thought of the possibility of taking his pain and turning it into something different. Maul wondered idly if it had worked. Well…Maul had already tried so many other ways. Why not this? But that would be for him.

As it was…he gave a brief inclination of his head.

“Knowledge like this I am to give to you,” Yoda said softly, “Questions you have I will answer. Context I am happy to give.” Yoda’s smile widened.

“What is it I can answer?”

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember 2020 Master List

Now that I have awoken from my post-Hypnovember nap, it’s time to post my 2020 Master List! in comparison to last year’s entries, a lot of stories this year delved more into either more intense kinks or more of my intense personal feelings than my stories last year did. Sometimes writing stories is a bit like reading my own tarot cards in that way- letting an ambiguous prompt roll around in my subconscious and sometimes being surprised or amused or even slightly unsettled by what it turns into. I hope you will find something in this group of works that soothes you, that turns you on, that intrigues you, and that most of all provokes a response. If you do, I’d absolutely love to hear about it. :)

Copying one of my favorite @jukeboxemcsa  ideas, I’ve also included a HypnoBS rating for every work about how realistic the hypnosis/mind control is in each work (IMHO). In this ranking, 1 means to is absolute bullshit and 5 is a normal Tuesday night (for someone).

Icons- 📰- story. 🔊- audio 💻- technology 😍- romantic 🌈- queer 😴- regular ole’ hypnosis 🛀- brainwashing and/or character in tub 👻- spooky 🐈- at least one happy pussy ❓- bad or reeeally questionable consent 👨‍🔬 -science! 🤪 -crackfic #-#sceneideas 😭-feeeels ⭐-author’s personal favorites

Day 1: Instant M/f 📰 😴🐈#😭

Choice quote: “Sean chuckled as he moved in closer. And closer. ‘I thought you wanted to know what it was like to be hypnotized, sweetheart. To follow suggestions? To have someone else take control? It’s not real control if I’m doing something you already wanted, now is it?”

HypnoBS- 5. Read the whole thing but- IMHO totally plausible.

Fun Fact- These are the same characters from last year’s Day 5: Poison.

Day 2: Coils F/m 📰 😴 💻 👨‍🔬

Choice quote: “Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘I bet you could hypnotize me with a bar of soap if you wanted to. That still doesn’t make me like spirals.’”

HypnoBS- 5. Maybe 4 because I don’t love the induction but- maybe you will? Also- oh no poor Daniel is so conditioned that he’ll go under to anything Jamie does! How hard for him. :(

Day 3: Staged Hypnosis (Stage) F/f 📰 😴 🌈 🛀 ❓

Choice quote: “No one needed to know she was a plant. A confederate. A stooge.”

HypnoBS- 1.5. This would collapse like a house of cards. It’s a fun concept though.

Day 4: Psychic F/nb 📰 😴 🌈 😍 👨‍🔬⭐

Choice quote: “Something about the hypnosis- being in and out of each other’s heads and in and out of each other’s bodies all weekend- made her feel like she and Tris had merged in some way. Like there was a new, deeper understanding between them now- a telepathic bond.”

HypnoBS- 5. Maybe a 4.5 if you’re recognizing some nre magical thinking here. But- I’ve definitely had this feeling and this kind of experience- and I hope some of you have had it/will have it as well. :)

Day 5: Visor F/multiple 📰 😴 🛀 💻 👨‍🔬 🤪#

Choice quote: “Besides, everyone knew stormtroopers were kinky.”

HypnoBS- 4.5. Some of the exact details would need to be changed and thought through more thoroughly, but I absolutely believe you could do something like this if you wanted to. (And if you do, you definitely have to let me know. I know some of y’all out there go to Dragoncon.)

Day 6: Pendulum F/y’all 🔊😴 👨‍🔬

Choice quote: This is a trick I first learned from a science book I read in 5th grade.

HypnoBS- 5. The real thing.

Day 7: Song Aliens/the human race 📰 💻 👻❓

Choice quote: “Anna didn’t know what she was singing.”

HypnoBS- 1. I hope. Why do the song based stories always turn out so creepy?

Day 8: Performance unknown/f 📰 👻❓😴# ⭐

Choice quote: “With each snap, the gears inside her doll body click click click clicked into action. She turned, jerky but graceful. She was determined to do well. “

HypnoBS- 5 (if part of a fearplay scene, which is my headcanon for this story)

Day 9: (Hot Under the) Collar F/f 📰 😴🛀🌈 🐈#⭐

Choice quote: “She was wearing her collar. She was aroused. It was as simple as that.“

HypnoBS- 5 With time, I think you could do this. Maybe a 4.5 for the 30 minutes thing- that might lead to a bit too much cramping.

Day 10: Gentle 🔊😴

Choice quote: “Just look into the spiral....”

HypnoBS- 5. I hope.

Day 11: Summoning Sappho (Summon) eventual F/f I hope 📰 😴🌈 🤪

Choice quote: “In fact, the only ideas left to try on their brainstorming board included ‘sexy alien invasion’, ‘sexy witches’, and this. Shockingly, at this point a sexy seance seemed the most practical.”

HypnoBS-1. Although stay tuned for Femme Flirt 2021.

Day 12: Plants unknown/m 📰 😴🛀#

Choice quote: “If he focused, Chris could feel that new suggestion also growing stronger and stronger, becoming more and more firmly rooted inside of him. “

HypnoBS- 5, with the right person

Day 13: Artifact F/f 📰 😴🛀🌈 👨‍🔬 ❓

Choice quote: “She fumbled through the contents when suddenly her hand found something unexpected from her past.A red lipstick tube. An artifact.”

HypnoBS- 4? There’s different ways of reading this story, but my headcanon is that the consent here is pretty dubious.

Day 14: Tail M/f 📰 😴🛀❓👻#

Choice quote: “It was no use. She could sense her tail was still behind her. She couldn’t shake him. She should have known he’d come for her.“

HypnoBS- Let’s say 2. Although I think this could work really well for a fearplay scene in an appropriate setting (where someone wasn’t actually left unmonitored with extreme paranoia).

Day 15: Serve F/m 📰 😴#⭐

Choice quote: “He had put his heart and soul into the dish.They were hers now.”

HypnoBS- As a scene? 5 (depending on the person). As a long term effect, much lower.

Day 16: Memory F/f  📰 😴 🛀🌈 😍

Choice quote: “Mesmera waited for Galaxy Girl at the door.”

HypnoBS- 4, you could do an induction along these lines but -1 for psychic powers

Fun Fact: These characters were originally featured in last year’s Day 19: Hideout. 

Day 17: Toy F/f m/f 📰 😴 🛀🌈🐈 #

Choice quote: “Dolly hated to have Bad Manners. “

HypnoBS- 4.5. This is pretty deep into headspace, but I wouldn’t want to rule it out for the right person.

Day 18: Monster m/f 📰 😴 ❓😭⭐

Choice quote: “That kind of stuff wasn’t fair to think about here. It wasn’t everyone else’s fault that she was so warped.”

HypnoBS- 5. Ouch my heart. Poor young!Ella.

Day 19: Eyes M/m 📰 😴 🌈 😍

Choice quote: “Scott looked into his partner Brandon’s eyes. Brandon had hypnotized him so many times over the years in so many ways but- this was one of Scott’s favorites.”

HypnoBS- 5. Especially in a long term relationship like this. (In my pretend Hypnovember universe, these guys are some of the patriarchs of the hypnokinky convention scene and absolutely wonderful advice givers.)

Fun fact: The story of how these characters originally got together is in last year’s Day 12: Stage story. 

Day 20: Possession F/f  📰 😴 🌈 😍😭

Choice Quote- “Things that were hard to do for herself during these times became easier to do as something owned by Thadra. Taking a shower. Getting up and going to bed at the right time. Making sure she ran once a day. Making sure she ate.”

HypnoBS- Errr....4 trending upwards. Although for this to be safe and healthy you’d really need to be checking in with a therapist and working on your continuing mental health at the same time (IMHO). Please do not get relationship advice from my porn.

Day 21: Snaps 🔊😴👨‍🔬

Choice Quote- “No, that one was up.”

HypnoBS- 5. I’m not sure quite how this translates to audio but this is the kind of shenanigans I pull with friends all of the time.

Day 22: Restrict  F/f 📰 😴 🌈 🐈👨‍🔬 

Choice quote: “’Hmm. By ‘weird’ do you mean ‘hot’?’ asked Zahara, lounging above her on the couch. Nikki nodded. She definitely meant hot. “

HypnoBS- 2. A month is a long time and this is a strong reaction. But- maaaaaybe would work for a bit, especially within these boundaries?

Day 23:  Villain there’s a m and a f  📰 🛀👨‍🔬❓#

Choice quote: “They had been planning against that damned do-gooder reporter Lizzy Lampost for months and now they were about to finally have her in their clutches. “

HypnoBS-1. But you’re not reading this one for realism, are you?

Day 24: Drink F/f 📰 😴👨‍🔬🌈 😍

Choice quote: “’Leah,’ she said. ‘I’ve found a drinking game! This might be fun! Want to try it?’”

HypnoBs- 5. With the right person. (That part of the end might be a bit harder.)

Day 25:Worship: F/m 📰 🛀🌈 

Choice quote: “After all, it wasn’t the time to work right now. It was time to worship his Mistress’s cock.”

HypnoBS- Someone on AO3 told me this fic just wrecked them. Lucky that person- this one’s a 5. Maybe not with everyone, but an awful lot of people should be able to do an awful lot of the activities in this story. :)

Day 26: Fey M/f 📰😴 😭⭐

Choice quote: “Humans do not know the spells they weave.”

HypnoBS- 1 Only true in that metaphorical way. (So- really, really true. But not factual.)

Day 27: Recording F./m 📰 🛀❓👻#

Choice quote: “It’s a recording, he reminded himself. “She’s not there. No one is there.”

HypnoBS- 2 At least, I don’t know how to make this happen (outside of a consensual scene).

Day 28: Obsession M/F 📰 🛀😍👨‍🔬

Choice quote: “Some guys had cars. Some had computer systems. Some had home brewing. But Mark’s obsession was Julia.“

HypnoBS- Oh gosh. Errr...2.5? Hard to say. 

Fun Fact: This started as a one-sided scenario, then it changed, then it felt really hot, now it feels like a sweet silly sitcom premise. (If you want to read some episode synopses of this hypothetical sitcom, there are some brilliant ones here! Also- feel free to send me more!)

Day 29: Helpless F/m 📰😴😍

Choice quote: “’I want to be helpless,’ he replied. Juan felt his headspace changing. He threw himself into that feeling, trusting Josie to take the reins.“

HypnoBS- 5. Not a scene log, but pretty much How I Top.

Day 30: Awaken 🔊😴👨‍🔬

Choice quote: “Aaaaaand-awaken!”

HypnoBS- 5 Hypnotist BS- also a 5

Thank you all for reading these! Thank you especially to everyone who reblogged, wrote me comments, and generally supported me through this past month. I’m going to specifically single out @daja-the-hypnokitten​, @wellgnawed​, and @spiralturquoise​ for the encouragement- y’all are the best. :)  I know this is a long post, but I’d really appreciate reblogs of it!

Also, I didn’t have time to contribute myself but- if you donate to Hypnokink for Trans Lives, let me know and I’ll write you an epilogue for any of these stories that you choose. 

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Insight ~ J.M.

Request: “... jack morton x male reader and instead of Vera taking the potion to stop the sons of Prometheus from killing jack the reader takes it and he’s had a super hard life to (Vera son if you want because I totally agree with that other post) and while people are going through his pain and memories jack sees the readers crush on him and he teases him about it...” by anon

MASTERLIST

Two words.

All Y/n had to do was say two words, and the entire quart yard took a collective gasp. Even Vera slowly looked over to her son, eyes wide and watery.

Vera had always struggled to have kids. After she’d had her daughter, it had been a miracle. The relationship she’d had her from, Vera didn’t like to talk about, as most of her relationships were. So when her little girl had begged and begged and begged for a siblings, Vera’s only option had been adoption. The two had gone together to meet people and look into children. It had taken a while, because Vera’s daughter had been as picky and precise as Vera was. When they’d found Y/n though, there was an immediate connection. He was quiet and distant and reserved. The little girl had made a joke about how the little boy was just like her mommy, and then a few months later he was in their home and supposed to be part of their family.

Vera and Y/n had never talked about Y/n’s past. The boy had clammed up and shut down every time it was mentioned, so Vera had learned very quickly that it was off limits. She had allowed him to find the time to come to her if he ever wanted to, and allowed him to just be her son. His past didn’t matter - she was his family now. After her daughter and his sister died, they bonded over the lost and clung to each other even more. What were past hardships when they had things to worry about right in front of them? It just hadn’t mattered.

Until now.

The years before the Stones were the worst years. Vera had always thought herself a terrible mom, but when she looked into Y/n’s mind and saw the years before, she realized why he always thought so highly of her and defended her to his dying breath. She saw himself in his eyes. A savior.

One he had betrayed.

Vera still remembered the day her children had been playing without him, and Y/n had offered his sister food from his lunch because she was still hungry. He’d just started opening up, and was a very light hearted, pleasant child. He had just started to really soften and warm up and it was so nice to see it.

To be fair, he hadn’t known she was allergic to peanuts, and he hadn’t known about epi pens, let alone how to use one.

It wasn’t his fault.

He had still never forgiven himself.

All of these things roiled around in the minds of every single person who was in that courtyard and they all looked Y/n and for once each eye that met his saw past all of his guards and protections and through his carefully constructed mask to the boy underneath. The scared, lonely who had only ever hurt any person he’d gotten close to. The child who just wanted love and safety, but believed in his bones he was cursed to experience nothing but suffering. If he had to bring it, he would, because he was simply that bad. He never meant to, but he always would.

The guilt and self hate and hardships he’s endured an entire life time roiled inside each person, and one of the Sons of Prometheus looked at him and asked with a soft voice, “Hw do you bare it?”

He took an even breath. His eyes were watery and he fought tooth and nail to get the tears to go away. His heart was racing and his nails dug into his palm as he desperately tried to keep it together. “Because I have to,” was his response. And they all saw that in his mind, it was true. He had spent the last several years trying to make up for the struggle he brought wherever he went. Protecting Vera from all he could. Making everyone’s life as easy as he could. Working nearly to death to have everything in order and taken care of so everyone could depend on him. Even now he had taken the potion and said the spell that would shove all of the things he was most afraid to show anyone into the heads of the people whose opinion he most cared about. For Vera, so she wouldn’t have to.

But that wasn’t completely true was it?

“Jack’s in danger?” My voice came out much more even than I felt capable of delivering. Inside was a torrential storm. Hurricanes rammed against his skin from the inside, beating against his lungs and heart. tsunami of emotions pounded his stomach, making it twist and hurt. His entire body was aching, and all because he couldn’t get the image of Jack Morton being dead out of his head.

Who could stand the idea of the person they loved being in any kind of danger?

What would stop them from doing everything and anything necessary to save them?

He didn’t just have to do it because Vera needed him. He pushed himself harder so Alyssa was less stressed so that she and Jack could be together with more peace, and he did it because he loved Jack enough to sacrifice himself for their happiness.

He took the brunt of the memory wiping so the wolves would have someone to be mad at other than Vera and Alyssa. He did the hardest work and played the bad guy.

He played the bad guy so that everyone could so easily hate him, and he allowed it to happen to lessen hardship and conflict and struggle. He let his name be a curse and his existence be a regret because if you had someone to throw all your bad emotions at, then you could throw those emotions and be rid of them and move on.

Y/n took on every struggle to lessen the hardships of others, and he did it without complaint or hesitation or doubt.

Vera was the only person who really knew Y/n, and even she didn’t know this.

Turning attention from Y/n, Vera took charge. Y/n stood there, stone cold and put together on the outside as he always was even as he burned and screamed and thrashed on the inside. It didn’t matter that they all knew what he was feeling despite his efforts he was to afraid to SHOW how badly he felt. If he could look strong, people would respect him even more, especially knowing how much he hurt inside. Respect was all he had.

Other than disdain.

When it was over, Y/n didn’t wait for his mother, or the two students to catch up to him. Alyssa and Jack, of all people. The three people he probably cared about the most and hid the hardest from had just seen all of the things he had so long desperately tried to bury, and despite knowing he would have to face them eventually he got in his car and he drove. He had known that this would happen and had planned this by bringing his own ride, which had surprisingly been allowed with little problem. 

He was determined to avoid every single person in that courtyard for as long as he could, even though he knew it wouldn’t be long until he had to face at least one of them.

Listen, he knew forever was out of the question, but he thought he’d get at least a day. A full 24 hours just maybe. Time to compose himself and for the spell to wear off and for him to push it all back down again and organize it like it usually was. Like he always did when he was upset, but this time with desperation because there were three people he was going to have to deal with regularly who knew he was lying through his teeth no matter how believably okay he looked.

He got ten hours before his mom found him.

Really, looking back, he shouldn’t have been surprised. She was the principal at his school. What did he expect?

“Y/n,” Vera began softly. She had a sort of edglessness to her in that moment, and it made Y/n shift. She was as guarded as he was, so to see her regret and pain and love written all over her face... maybe she only felt it fair since she’d seen all of him, that he was allowed to see all of her.

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/n rushed, wanting to bolt. “You really don’t have to. I know it wasn’t my fault. I know that you don’t approve of a lot of the things I do and feel and think. I know you see just how much I am exactly like you and you hate it because you wanted me to be so much happier. Better, for my own benefit. I know I could be an emotional mess and a failure and you’d be more relieved than seeing me be like this. I know how much that hurt you. I also know you hate being pitied, so I took that fall. Please, I hate being pitied too.”

She shook her head, approaching her son. “I don’t pity you, Y/n. I ache for you.” She pulled him into a hug and at first he just let her hug him, but then she didn’t pull away so he finally wrapped his arms around her. Once he hugged her, it was impossible not to melt into her touch. He felt the weight of years of hidden secrets melt off of him. He was glad that if he had to tell a bunch pf people the things he most wished to keep hidden, his mom was one of the people who had to be there. He was glad she knew. “I’m sorry. For your sake, I wished I’d been better at teaching you how to forgive yourself.”

That was fair. “You were too busy teaching me how to do everything else. And without you, I wouldn’t have made it very long.” He squeezed her, burying his face in her neck. “I’m so lucky to have you as a mom. I’m so, SO lucky. I’m... I’m sorry for- I know it’s not my fault but-” And there were the tears.

“It’s okay,” Vera soothed. “It’s okay.”

They stayed there for a while, until Y/ finally cried and then calmed down. They separated and Vera touched his cheek. She gave him the saddest smile and he returned a watery one back. They stayed in her office until Y/n was ready to face people again, and as he left the room he felt a lot better than he’d expected to.

Maybe he’d been wrong about this whole confessions and emotions thing.

His mind changed pretty quickly when two days later he was faced with Alyssa Drake. He expected her to hate him. After all, they’d never gotten along. Alyssa was one of the very many people who thought Y/n was a shitty person. She’d always been clear that she thought he was the worst the Order had to offer. After years of coming nowhere near even getting along or being civil, she had seen into his mind and saw that everything she knew about him was a lie, and that on top of all of that, he was in love with her boyfriend.

Despite all the reasons he was sure she had to loath him, what he got from her when they were stuck on the same duty together was a small smile and a warm greeting. “Hey.”

He treaded carefully. “Hello.”

After a moment, she casually continued, “How have you been?”

Y/n wasn’t about to shut her down. He had no reason to be a jackass to her, and now that Alyssa thought about it, he’d never actually been a rude person. He’d just taken the blame and never corrected assumptions. Even now, when she knew how terrified he was and how much he wanted to be anywhere but with her, having any sort of conversation, he was still considerate and polite enough to respond to her and respond to her in case she needed closure about anything.

“Well enough, considering,” was Y/n’s response.

Alyssa nodded. The conversation was almost between two friends, which was so incredibly bizarre that other members of the Order looked at the two and seemed to be absolutely bewildered. After all they’d seen and the impossible they’d faced, Alyssa Drake and Y/n Stone exchanging friendly small talk was the thing they couldn’t handle. Y/n noticed it and wondered what theories were going around in peoples’ heads. Alyssa just ingored them.

Instead, rather out of nowhere, she mentioned very lightly, “You’re supposed to ask how I’ve been now.” Her eyes twinkled with a sort of light teasing mood, and Y/n almost smiled.

Y/n Stone almost smiled.

“How have you been, Alyssa?”

“Very good, thank you for asking. Jack and I broke everything off officially, after a really long talk. That was hard. But it was a lot better for both of us in the long term. We’ve been struggling since the beginning, and after all we’ve been through it’s time to stop trying for something that’s only going to hurt us. you know?” She smiled at the way Y/n went rigid. “There are options out there for both of us. I think for now I just want to take some time for myself. I have a lot going on, and it’ll be nice to take a breather and not worry about what the hell is going wrong with me and Jack this time.”

Y/n nodded, trying to seem collected even as he was wound tightly. “Are you guys going to stay friends?”

“No,” Alyssa answered. “Not- for now, I mean. We actually both handled the whole break up a lot better than we thought, but we still need time to separate ourselves from each other before we could ever get to being just friends. We did talk about having like weekly check ins, maybe. Because we do still care for each other, and the idea of just disappearing from each others’ lives would suck. But I mean he’s got a lot of issues with me after the whole memory thing that he needs to come to terms with, and it’s been months where he didn’t even know who I was. Months that I had to see him with someone else every day. Eventually I got used to the idea that we weren’t together anymore. Trying to make it now is trying to put something far beyond fixing together again. It just doesn’t work anymore.”

This time when Y/n nodded, it was a lot smoother. “That makes sense.” He looked at her directly. “And you’re doing this because of those reasons and nothing else?”

She met his eyes without stepping down. Not many people could do that. “I’m not going to lie to you, Y/n. I told you, we both have better options for us out there. We had a long talk, and it didn’t come out of nowhere. It was triggered by something. But that’s all. Just because something starts something, doesn’t mean that something is the reason it ends.”

Fair enough. It was something he could accept. He had the opinion that they were bad for each other anyway, and they’d probably seen that. All the many hours Y/n had wondered why they even bothered after everything. The annoyances and doubts he’d had, not because he thought he had a chance with Jack, but because he saw how much they were both suffering and thought they deserved better. They’d both seen those thoughts and recognized them as having merit. Despite emotional idiocy, Y/n was very smart. His sense had been just what they needed to see that it really was pointless. At this point they were just hurting each other, and what was the point of love if it hurt?

Y/n wouldn’t argue with a decision he agreed with.

He would however argue if Jack tried to make a move on him, because he was absolutely not down to be a rebound or pity dated or whatever reason Jack Morton might find interest in Y/n Stone now that Y/n’s feelings were out in the open and Jack was single.

The rets of the night Y/n and Alyssa were silent. It was a comfortable silence, but Y/n had a lot on his mind and Alyssa seemed to sense that. He was appreciative for her not pressing her, and he was beginning to think she might know that better than he wanted her to.

Y/n saw Jack from a distance a few times for the next few weeks. He kept expecting Jack to approach him, but it never happened. It took a few times before Jack even acknowledged Y/n being there at all. When Y/n stopped immediately looking away and then looking back to see if Jack was still looking, or just running away altogether, Jack started smiling at him. When they found each other doing something together for any reason, Jack was perfectly polite and never seemed to flirt or mention Y/n’s feelings or his break up with Alyssa. 

It was like Sons of Prometheus had never happened, aside from the fact that Jack and Alyssa were nice to him now and would shut people up if they talked bad about Y/n around them. Which was a major shock for everyone, including Y/n, but also had absolutely not been what Y/n had expected. He’d been gearing himself up for them to use it against him at first, getting revenge for all the things they were mad at him for. After the conversation with Alyssa, he’d expected to have to deal with Jack trying to use Y/n as a rebound. Neither happened.

A month later, Jack finally talked to Y/n. It was in a completely normal setting, where they’d both been getting lunch and Jack had asked to sit with him. Y/n had agreed, intrigued by what was going through Jack’s head. When the other man just made small talk, Y/n finally snapped. “What’s your deal?”

Jack rose an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Y/n thought about his words carefully. He rarely lost his cool or talked without meaning to. His anxiety was getting to him more than he’d realized. He didn’t know how to ask Jack about that day and his reaction to Y/n’s feelings for him without actually bringing up said feelings. His eyes fell to his food. He realized he was glaring, but couldn’t force his face to smooth out like he normally could. Finally he looked back up at Jack, who he realized had stilled, waiting patiently for Y/n to collect his thoughts. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why you and Alyssa are being friends with me.”

“Why?” Jack asked casually, returning to his food. “Because you’re in love with me?”

Slamming his fork down, Y/n leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t say it out loud like it doesn’t mean anything.” He felt suddenly very vulnerable and defensive. For the first time since his sister had died, someone really knew how he felt. They knew the real him, past lies and what he wanted people to see when they looked at him. Except this time he didn’t know what they were feeling or thinking - not even in the slightest. He absolutely hated it.

Jack focused on his food for a few seconds, but he didn’t take a bite. “Y/n...” He looked up, but this time his face wasn’t a sort of detached amusement, it was full of conflict and hesitation. “Alyssa told me about what she said to you.”

Y/n’s jaw worked. “Has anything changed since then?” His voice was a lot more quiet and full of hope than he wanted it to be. Crap! He wasn’t supposed to be like this! He wasn’t supposed to be the one excited for this change. He was supposed to be strong and ready to turn down Jack, because Jack needed to think about himself before he just humped into a new relationship. And yet here they were, and Jack hadn’t mentioned any interest in Y/n once, and Y/n was the one who was still pining.

Shaking his head, Jack didn’t seem to pick up on Y/n’s silent, accidental plea. There was something he wasn’t saying though and Y/n shifted, suddenly very nervous. Was he about to get shot down? Was Jack about to make it so very clear that they could only ever be what they were now? Pleasant acquaintances, where one of them were in love with the other, but the other could never feel the same. Jack seemed to look into Y/n’s eyes and see those thoughts, and he seemed to... smile.

“You know, everyone always thinks that me and Alyssa were in love the first time we looked at each other.” His smile grew, amusement dancing across his features. “That we were each other’s first option, from the very beginning.”

That surprised Y/n. “You weren’t?”

Jack shook his head. “You were my first option.” Y/n went solid, his eyes widening. He looked like a shocked statue, frozen forever in perpetual stunned silence. When it didn’t seem he was going to recover anytime soon, Jack continued speaking. “I was on a tour with her when I saw you. Alyssa noticed the way I looked at you and laughed at me. AT the time, I knew a LOT more about the school than her because my grandpa had taught me about it, in preparation for getting into the Order. You remember the whole thing between me and Coventry.” Y/n nodded. “She made some comment about how I didn’t know EVERYTHING about this school, because I was showing her up and she wanted to knock me down a peg. Told me she dared me to ask you out, and had this really smug look on her face.” He chuckled at the memory. “Well, easy to say that when she was helpful and helped me join the Order - as much as she’ll refuse to admit it - it was a pretty easy pick between the pretty girl who had been so nice to me, and the really hot guy who seemed to be a total dick.”

Y/n blushed. “You’re so full of shit,” he accused.”

A grin light up Jack’s face. “I’m absolutely not.” An unsure smile rose to Y/n’s face as well. He picked up his fork, busying himself with his food as Jack picked up the story again. “I was becoming a tree that day.” His face turned odd, like a mix of horror and disbelief. Jack seemed to be having a hard time believing it had happened, even though he’d been there. “Me and Alyssa were already talking about breaking up. Things between us had already gotten so convoluted, and she had never really gotten over my attraction to you. Among with other things, of course. That day, she chose the Promethians instead of me. I would have been able to get over it if she hadn’t tried to destroy our entire relationship to get her magic back. Like I understand how much her magic means to her but...” His smile had vanished and Y/n hurt for the boy.

He’d never cared as much about magic as his mother did, but watching her had made him understand the worth of it to others. To prioritize that over someone you’re supposed to be in love with though... that had to hurt. “I’m sorry.”

Jack shrugged it off. “It’s fine. It just really proved to me that we were done, and had been for a while. We could have made it if my memory hadn’t been wiped, maybe. If we weren’t on two so very different paths. If no matter how hard I tried she was just ALWAYS out of my reach.” He looked at Y/n. “If she hadn’t been right about me still liking you after all this time.”

Y/n felt his heart begin to race. “How the hell do you like me? You said yourself, I was a total asshole.”

Nodding, Jack seemed to agree at first, even as a smile curved his lips upward again. “You’re a really good actor, Y/n. But every actor has their weak moments, and every person makes mistakes. You aren’t as rock solid as you think you are. I saw the way you looked at my friends. Like you wanted to protect them. And how you took credit for things that were absolutely not your fault. I kept saying it was just to move on and get it over with... I dismissed everything you did that showed how kind you are, until Vera said something when she called us out for having our memories back that caught my attention. He said that we couldn’t mess up. That more than our reputations were on the line. Randall replied about how we didn’t care about her reputation but she said it wasn’t hers she was worried about.” Y/n suddenly couldn’t look at Jack, and that seemed it was all that was needed to confirm whatever theory had been bouncing around. “I’ve only ever seen Vera Stone prioritize one thing over her own judgement. I know she liked us, but you said something to her to get her to be lenient with us, didn’t you?”

A shrug was all Jack got at first, but when the silence stretched, Y/n sighed and finally admitted, “Yeah, I did. I told her I trusted your capabilities. I-” He swallowed. “I told her that I couldn’t let you die.”

“You told her you were in love with me,” Jack added. Y/n nodded. Jack chuckled and Y/n rose an eyebrow. “I’m that irresistible, huh?”

The tension shattered and both of them started a soft giggle. “Look who’s talking, Mr. I Fell Because I Saw You Once.” Jack rolled his eyes at that, but both of them did grow into full laughter. They thought about the several times both of them could have been so much happier with each other but were too busy creating an image or fighting a losing battle or believing everything they heard instead of getting to know the other person instead. “I’m an idiot,” Y/n sighed when they calmed down. 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “So am I. Wanna go on a date with me?”

Y/n grinned. “You free on Saturday?”

[meigh-day]

Obligation (Tendou x Reader)

I seriously didn’t think I would be back writing a brand new story already (I can feel the looks of betrayal from the 6 other fics I was writing previously.). It’s been like a day since I finished Breathing Lilies, but here I am with a great need to get this story out of my brain. So please enjoy yet another Tendou centric fic. 

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Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Mentions of Guns/Knives and Violence

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.8k

Next

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"Is this really necessary?" You mumble out in irritation.

"Watch your tone." Kimura warned, emphasized by the look he directed at you. He’d been taking care of you since you were twelve, playing both guardian and bodyguard when the need arose. Your parents had been special to the family and when they had both been taken out during a job, you were left to Kimura to look after. Over the years, you had tried to weasel your way into some kind of work within the family, anything would have done. You'd have been happy even just guarding a door but that meant you'd need a gun and Kimura had made it clear you weren't permitted to even hold a gun, let alone learn to use one. You'd even tried to get in on the boring office work but for whatever reason any and all attempts were thwarted and thus you were left to your own devices within the confines of the house.

With a sigh you force yourself to sit upright in the chair. You had been slouching like a moody teenager and he deserved more respect than that.

"I apologize, Sensei. Please continue."

The older man let out a sigh before continuing. It's not like he was a big fan of this idea either but they needed to ensure the relationship with the Shiratorizawa group remained intact and this seemed to be the preferred method the rest of the family had agreed upon.

"It's going to take place in about a month but they want you to go stay with them before-hand so you can get to know him and get familiar with how they do things."

You chew thoughtfully at the inside of your lip as you ponder this new development. It wasn't uncommon to arrange a marriage between families to secure a new alliance or to further strengthen an old one. Now, it was your turn. For years you had complained about not being able to do something for the family that had continued to take care of you in the absence of your parents but, now that your time had come, you couldn't help but feel a little hesitant. Marrying someone you had never met wasn't your idea of romance but that didn't matter. You nod a little bit as you steel yourself, mentally preparing as you come to terms with the decision that had been made on your behalf.

"Do, do you know who it is?" Kimura nods at your question, crossing his arms as he takes a few paces across the room.

"Tendou Satori." That name, it sounded so familiar but you couldn't quite seem to bring up his image in your mind.

"You actually met him once a few years ago."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. He helped tie-up some loose ends in connection to the gang who..." He faltered for a moment, even though it had been so many years, he could still see the sadness in your eyes over the loss of your parents. It had taken several years to track down and wipe out every single rat that had had a hand in your parent's death. The family had lost a number of valuable people that day, and they made sure everyone involved paid for it dearly. You glanced up and over at him, already knowing the words before he said it, and with that brought a vision of crimson hair.

"Oh." You nodded and your sensei understood you knew the person he was referencing.

"I'm sorry. I know he's not the nicest looking person. Red hair and eyes like a demon and a personality to match."

To that you said nothing. That was not the person you remembered. In your memories you saw a smile with kind eyes to match and the loveliest red hair. Honestly, even after all these years, he was still the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Tendou had only stayed at this house for a short time but each day the two of you managed to find one another. Maybe you unconscientiously sought him out, maybe he did the same, or maybe it was just fate or a coincidence. Talking with him had been a treat and you sorely missed him when he'd finally had to return home.

"When am I expected?"

"Tomorrow."

With a nod, you offer the older man a bow before leaving. He watched you leave and let out a little sigh before retrieving his phone.

"It's me. Yea. She's gone to pack. Hm? No she understands." He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, pacing across the room to stare out the window. You had taken this so casually that it made him a little nervous. Not that you were the type to argue but he was so sure as soon as he’d told you who it was you were being forced to marry you would at least try talk to him into getting you out of it. Instead, you were on your way to your room to pack. He was less that excited to know you were going to be married to the monster of the Shiratorizawa group. Tendou was good at what he did, it was absurd how good he was actually. Kimura had seen the aftermath of the red-head's work and it had left even a veteran like him feeling uneasy. Now he had to send you off into that creatures clutches tomorrow and there was a good chance he might never see your precious face again. There was nothing to be done for it though, in the end you had a purpose to fulfill and he would make sure you got there. After that it was up to you to decide how you would handle the rest.

.

..

...

..

.

Presently, you found yourself standing in a rather large vestibule, your luggage sitting off to the side. As your eyes roam the room, you find yourself nervously toying with the hem of your shirt. An assortment of emotions plagued you as you stood waiting. You were scared, you'd had zero interactions with the people in this house and had no idea what to expect. You felt sad, you'd had less than 24 hours to say goodbye to everyone who had been a part of your life until this point. However, mixed into the sadness and the fear of the unknown, was excitement. You were genuinely looking forward to seeing Tendou once again. There was sure to be a bit of awkwardness, you were, for lack of a better term, being forced to marry each other. You wondered if he would even remember you. It had been a few years since then and it was such a short time, you couldn't imagine you had made any kind of real impression on him.

That's where you were wrong. Satori, like you, didn't remember your name right away but when reminded of that job a few years ago, your pretty face came rushing back to him. That had been the happiest series of weeks he could recall in a long time. Everyday the two of you would inevitable run into each other and spend the following minutes..sometimes hours...chatting and joking. The sound of your laugh had become his favorite song for those few weeks and he'd have given anything to hear it once more. So, when the time came for him to leave, his only qualm was that he'd had to leave you behind. At first when he'd been told they were marrying him off to a perfect stranger, he'd been ready to spill blood. His tune changed completely when they'd told him it was you. He was so thoroughly happy, for a little while anyway. Sure you hadn't know each other for long but at least you had met and every memory of you was bliss. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world but he could only imagine how you were feeling right now. The prospect of being forced to marry him, it must have been so terrifying.

Tendou was all to familiar with what people said about him, he'd used those rumors to his advantage. They helped him built up a fairly fearsome persona, though it wasn't all bullshit. He really, truly, was a terrifying being to behold when it came to completing his work. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, dripping with someone else's blood. But that wasn't all there was to him, he was still just a person, just a human being. He loved to laugh and share jokes, though they went fairly unappreciated around here. He happily devoured Shonen Jump each week, the shelves in his room practically sagged with the weight of the collected issues. He was the demon, the monster, of the Shiratorizawa Group, but he was still just a human and part of him desperately wanted to feel something akin to love. Even so, he knew there was no way someone as wonderful as you, someone so charming, so beautiful inside and out, could really truly fall for a beast like him. He knew you would do your duty and you would do it well but that's all it was, a duty, a job, a burden.

So with a sigh, he made his way through the house to collect you. He wore black from top to bottom, the only pop of color on his entire person was his dazzling red hair. You had to grit your teeth to refrain from gasping when he entered the room. He cut an impressive figure, leaning casually against the door frame, his calculating red eyes on you. You remembered he was handsome, but had he always been THAT good looking. It wasn't fair. Suddenly you felt very plain and underdressed in comparison to him. The knee-length jacket he wore on top of his outfit fluttered behind him as he crossed the threshold into the vestibule.

"It's been awhile, Y/N." He offered up a grin as he drew closer to you. Had you always been this pretty? The expression on his face did little to betray the thoughts racing around his mind as he took in your appearance. His memory of you couldn't compare to the vision before him now. You were looking up at him with wide eyes but he couldn't tell if it was in fear or awe. Though, assuming it was the former he let the grin on his lips fade until his mouth was pressed into a line.

"It's nice to see you again, Tendou." You smiled up at him, truly happy to see him again and feeling somehow lucky. Honestly, arranged marriages often ended up in extremely unfortunate pairings. Somehow you had hit the jackpot.

He hummed in response, the negative thoughts prickling in his mind wouldn't allow him a moment to just consider perhaps you meant it. Instead he noted how well you were already performing under this obligation. He hefted your two suitcases up and started back towards the door he came in.

"Wait! Let me help you with those." He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. It's the least I can do as your future husband."

[cant-blink]

7 Deadly Sins: Showa Ghidorah

SHOWA GHIDORAH

Wrath 10/10

Hell hath no fury like a Ghiddy scorned. Ghidorah is an EXTREMELY wrathful creature. To be fair, he doesn’t seem to hold any anger towards any particular lifeform he’s exterminating on a whim; in fact, he thinks it’s fun and it’s common to hear him letting out his infamous cackle while he’s taking your life! But, it’s not hard to anger him, and you’ll know because he suddenly goes very quiet. No “BIDIBIDI”, just a cold six-eyed glare into your very soul. And when he is angered, even for the pettiest reason, he will chase the offender to the ends of the Universe just to kill them. Not just that, but when he does inevitably catch you, don’t expect the quick death that he gives to most, no. Expect your death to be drawn out. Slow, and painful. Teach you to piss him off. Bitch. 

Gluttony 0/10

Showa Ghidorah does not eat, or drink. He feeds solely off of cosmic energy absorbed through his wings. He doesn’t have the traditional digestive system to deal with physical foods and drinks, and those forked tongues have no sense of taste so he’s not even tempted to lick or to put any random thing into his mouth like a San. His mouths exist solely for talking, biting, and shooting Gravity Beams. His tongues exist only for picking up scents. Even if he tries to consume anything through his mouths, he will vomit it back up immediately because the only thing his esophaguses (esophagi?) lead to are his Gravity Beam sacs and noms do not belong in there!

Greed 3/10

Ghidorah does not care for your material objects. He does not value them, he does not desire them, and trying to bribe him is pointless. The only thing he’s greedy for is your life, and that earns him at least a few points because he will take all the lives with great enthusiasm!

Envy 0/10

What does a giant, powerful golden space dragon got to be envious over? Nothing, that’s what.

Sloth 5/10

Ghidorah does spend the majority of his life in dormancy, within the asteroid that takes him through the void of space. But that’s kinda mandatory; do you know how boring it would be to fly through all that himself?! He does rouse easily when he detects the slightest hint of life. The time that he is active in his destruction is spent without sleep, and the only break he takes is if he’s too injured and needs to recover and that’s quite rare. Otherwise, he’s diligently working to ensure the extinction of all life he comes across, 24/7 until the job is done and he’s back to sleep until the next batch of victims!

Lust 0/10

Ghidorah is the only one of his kind, a bioweapon created solely to kill, and as such has no reproductive organs, and no sense of lust. His creators saw no use for it, as being horny will only get in the way of his work, and really, WHY would you want something so dangerous to BREED?! You don’t!! This dragon has no interest when advances are made towards him, and if anything, it only agitates him. He does not like being touched at all, in any sort of fashion!! So if you’re a kaiju-sized critter trying to get frisky with him, he’s going to reject you. Violently and murderously. When rendered helpless against Gigan’s “affections” by the mind-control chip, he doesn’t feel a single spark of sensual gratification at any point. He just endures, closing his eyes and waiting for it to be over. He’s simply incapable of feeling anything of the sort; he wasn’t designed for it. He doesn’t even display any curiosity when he sees other lifeforms going at it. He just kills them like the rest. Closest thing he has to physical pleasure is killing something of substantial life-energy. His moon-crests rewards him for killing by giving doses of euphoria and the more vital the life-force extinguished, the greater the dose.

Pride 10/10

As a dragon, he has this in SPADES!! How can he not? He knows he’s powerful, he knows he’s beautiful, he knows he’s better than every other lifeform in existence! He knows he’s renowned throughout the Universe as a living extinction event, he knows he strikes fear in all who stands before him. And he loves every bit of it. He judges every other creature as worthless, and only exist for him to toy with and dispose of. Really, these pathetic creatures should be glad to be killed by someone as great as him! He takes great enjoyment watching insects submit to him, pleading with him for his nonexistent mercy. That’s where they belong, at his feet. The fact he was worshipped by the race that created him definitely did not help here. And if he didn’t hate Gigan so damn much, he might appreciate the fact that this half-life has fallen head-over-heels for him so badly. Of course the cyborg has fallen in love with him, who wouldn’t? He appreciates it as much as he appreciates that other races acknowledge his power by trying to control him. The idea itself is a boost to the ego, but acting on that idea is the fastest way to piss him off. So, both Gigan and those races can fuck right off and die. Preferably by his own teeth. They should feel honored he’s giving them THAT much.

TOTAL: 28/70 Surprisingly low for something so unrepentantly evil. But the next one will blow this score out of the water, for up next is Gigan. A creature even more evul than Showa Ghidorah can ever be!