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jerreeeeeee · 28 days

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there's nothing inherently wrong or unhealthy with a platonic relationship being the most intimate and important in someone's life (whether that person is also in a romantic relationship or not). this has been said before but people still treat it like its true. ESPECIALLY that a prioritized platonic relationship belies “codependency” even though no one would bat an eye at the exact same dynamic if it were romantic, because of the idea that a prioritized platonic relationship is somehow immature/unhealthy and something to grow out of/move on from.

the idea that the twins just go, well, you've been the person i felt safest loving and trusting in my entire life, our souls have been bound by fate and magic and our love for one another is one of the strongest bonds in the multiverse, transcending death and unimaginable loss, the motivation behind everything we’ve ever done, but since we're both in romantic relationships now and the story is over, the reasonable and in-character thing to do would be to split up and have separate nuclear families because that's the "healthy thing" (read: expected thing). there's no other form of a domestic happy ending than a marriage and typical nuclear family. you're everything to me, my entire world, my heart, see you later.

ok this got too long i'm putting it under a readmore.

(also why i don't really like the idea that taako adopts angus. "parent" is not the only important, loving role an adult can play in a child's life but people feel that need to shove everything into a nuclear family. also taako has too much going on to be the good parent that angus needs anyway. and magnus and lucretia are right there. but this is another post <- this is actually a fan fiction i’m writing, kind of)

i just find that frankly silly. i truly believe that the twins live together for the rest of their lives and are always each others' most important person (before anyone kills me i do think barry is there too. they also both love him so much. capacity for love INCREASES there’s no need for a replacement or a “moving on” it’s an addition). there's not any reason they wouldn't live together other than that it’s not “normal?” but why would they give a shit about that. their prioritization of one another isn't the unhealthy thing about their relationship. they do have other stuff going on that's actually codependent, but i think they eventually work past it and come to have a healthier (yet no less close) relationship. actually this post was originally just supposed to be about those codependent tendencies but i felt like i needed to compensate by clarifying that there are only a very specific few things abt their dynamic i find unhealthy and that by and large they’re fine, actually.

the main thing is, as is so succinctly put in this post—they aren't able to communicate about big, important decisions. not to say they never communicate about anything, i think they actually do communicate effectively about a lot of things—warning i’m going into a complete tangent here—i see a lot an idea that they’re not siblings who hug or really verbalize affection at all which is crazy to me (<- personal opinion alert) like they’re closed off and distrusting (taako more than lup, but she’s certainly not exempt from their trauma) to other people and the world at large but they have always always been each other’s exception, each other’s utmost safe place, the one person they could be absolutely comfortable around, who they never have to be afraid of. that’s one of the things i find so compelling about them, that they trust each other with their entire selves. they have no reason to ever feel defensive around each other. oh to be known so entirely and intimately and never feel ashamed or afraid of judgement or abandonment. augh. so i do think they hug.

also—i don't think they're unhealthily codependent in the sense that they "don't know how to be a person without each other" like that's certainly not true for lup and i don't really think it's true for taako either. they have their own distinct personalities and identities they just also both inform each others’ lives. they're an integral part of each other's identity the way your family or best friend or partner or most important person in your life is but again i think that's fine.

but back to the topic at hand anyway they DO hide their misgivings from each other when it comes to huge shit with world-changing, life-threatening consequences lol. when it comes to, like, turning herself into a lich, or leaving to recover her dangerous magical artifact, lup feels like she needs to be entirely decisive and confident for taako, and when it comes to his sister turning herself into a lich, or proposing a dangerous magical artifact plan, taako feels like he needs to be unflinchingly supportive and loyal for lup. and those both backfire obviously. because they trust each other so completely that they don't trust each other enough to not trust each other. weird paradox.

but really its not a lack of trust in each other its their own insecurities projected onto each other. lup second guesses herself but feels like she can’t express that uncertainty so she’s alone with her doubts which increases the pressure and stress and creates a feedback loop that only makes her more insecure. and taako feels like he doesn’t have anything to bring to the table other than backing up lup and is afraid doubting her would hurt her which means he never has an opportunity to find out he does actually have good ideas and that lup would listen to him constructively. but it manifests in lup “not trusting taako” to have her back even if she doubts herself and taako “not trusting lup” to take criticism even if his idea is good.

and honestly i think the solution to this codependency just comes with… not being in those lifethreatening situations anymore. the universe was saved and they have normal (magical fantasy world) lives. so now when they’re hiding things from each other the stakes are a lot lower. and when the stakes are lower they’re able to express uncertainty because they don’t feel that extreme and terrifying pressure anymore. lup doesn’t have to make impossible decisions and stick to them despite any doubt because she doesn’t have the survival of entire worlds on her back anymore. taako doesn’t have to always agree with lup and uncritically support her every choice because he’s not the only thing holding her together from oblivion anymore. so they're able to express doubts and nothing falls apart and they're actually stronger for it. and they’re already doing so much work on fixing their relationship just from being separated and kinda grieving for a decade too, so they eventually work past that.

and also because they have to face those insecurities and their consequences. lup got trapped in umbrella limbo for a decade and taako had his life destroyed. if lup had been able to overcome her need to put everything on her shoulders and expressed uncertainty, if taako had been able to overcome his blind loyalty and expressed doubt, would they have gone through with the relics? would they have even gone through with the lich plan? they realize only afterward that they should’ve talked about it, and so they learn from their mistakes.

another tangent—isn’t it so crazy how, by any standard, lup should be the strongwilled, passionate, heroic protagonist and taako her cynical, pragmatic, yet loyal sidekick? and yet he’s the protagonist and she the supporting character in the actual narrative? so subversive and intriguing. i cant believe this was all masterfully and purposefully written. anyway. (<- in the in-universe metanarrative version of the story, lup [and honestly, probably davenport] is the tragic ghost who haunts the narrative and lucretia & barry are the morally gray protagonist foils, and tres horny boys are supporting characters/comic relief who go on to have their own semi-important b-plot arcs that ultimately serve to further the protagonists’ arcs. btw.)

back to the twins. i also think they don't only grow post-canon, i think they grow a LOT during the century, because in the beginning, they're coming from a life where they have been not only the most important people in each other's lives, but the ONLY people in each other's lives. and now they're suddenly faced with more people, which they handle fine individually, more or less—lup is faster to warm up to the others, but even though taako's attitude is very much that he only cares about him and his, he is capable of expanding the people who are "his" (eventually). but they've never had to bring other people into their dynamic with each other before.

i don't think either of them are possessive, their relationship is built on deepest mutual respect and love and trust and "possessiveness" is kinda antithetical to that, but they can both be jealous on occasion. although there is a difference—lup is the only one who will outwardly display jealousy (and maybe a better word than jealousy would be insecurity), again because of the dynamic earlier: taako must always support whatever decisions lup makes without question. so when taako dies one cycle and all of a sudden merle and magnus and everyone else grieve him too, lup feels a sense of ownership over grief (not over taako himself, but over loving taako, just because no one else ever really has before, and she’s never had to think about the possibility that he might love other people too) that she initially may not challenge but does eventually let go of, because it's actually a good thing that other people love him now, and bringing new people into their family doesn’t make their love for each other any less. and taako has a similar experience but tbh i think its a little easier for him bc, like, who wouldn’t love lup, and lup loves other people way more freely than taako does (still not super freely, its a low bar). not that lup thinks taako is unloveable OBVIOUSLY (taako does think he’s unloveable tho) i just think they have different attitudes abt it, like they both have the moments of “but you don’t love them as much as i do!!” which is true, no one loves them as much as they do, but taako’s more willing to let that shit go bc he just doesn’t care as much what the others do as long as they don’t fuckin bother him about it. like lup sees the others equate (as she sees it, but oc they’re not actually grieving At Her) their (comparatively shallow) grief to her world-shattering loss of her best friend, only family, soulmate, silly rabbit, and she gets angry about it, but taako’s reaction is more like, “ok they’re stupid. who cares.” meanwhile and more importantly, all of a sudden lup is falling in love with barry, but taako's not one to throw a fit or demand that he's the only one who can love lup nor the only one lup can love. she’s made her decision. he just gives barry advice and lets it quietly hurt and draws distant, because he has a deep seated fear of abandonment that is now, for the first time, clashing with his unshakable trust in lup. and their relationship irrevocably changes but maybe not for the worse, because taako has, for the first time, doubted lup, a disruption to their typical (codependent) dynamic. but, of course, in the end his fears are unfounded and lup pulls him back in, because their capacity for love increases—of course lup still loves him just as much and yknow what, so does barry, and so does the rest of the crew. so he doubts and fears and is proven wrong. and so they grow and change, and their world increases from two to seven.

but that doubt doesn’t really go away for a long time, exacerbated and strained the more lup keeps secrets (especially with barry) until it reaches a head when lup finally doubts taako and does truly abandon him. but again, of course, never on purpose and never forever, they find their way back to each other despite everything and, again, come away stronger for it. the idea that the twins’ relationship is never as close again after story and song is so fucking tragic and heartrending but really i just think its unrealistic. because the rift between them is what caused their pain in the first place, of course they wouldn’t just shrug and move on. they would do anything for each other, including a lot of difficult emotional work and healing. for a little while they do have to deal with the reality that they’re not as close as they were. but they can be again. it just takes time and effort.

but anyway just to drive my point home—we mostly see taako's side of it since he is the protagonist in the real world narrative, but lup is always, always positioned within that narrative as his most important person. (and even then, lup says as much for taako! she loves barry of course but she loves taako so much he’s her heart!!) when thb see their lives after the hunger in paloma's prophecy, taako sees himself cooking with lup. she's textually representative of healing and joy in his future, and she's the main character present in his epilogue too. she's his greatest loss and his greatest love, positioned in exactly the same place as julia and merle's kids. there are a myriad of love stories going on in balance and a myriad of love stories involving taako that are all beautiful and significant in their own right but i really do think the main one in his life is lup!!

well all that to say they’re my favorite little critters ever and i’m studying them under a microscope forever. how do you end posts

#whateverrrrr i’m just going to post this even though its rambling #anyway. promise im still writing my fan fictions. i just have been having too many thoughts been unable to condense them #writing this shit into an actual fic is much more satisfying and rewarding but its also sooo hard #bc i have to employ ‘subtlety’ and ‘nuance’ and ‘thoughtful writing’ instead of train of consciousness word vomit. sad!#i’ll never not be insane about them btw #taz taako #taz lup #taz #taz balance #taaco twins #lup #taako #mine #the twins #analysis #also um i know i mentioned barry and not kravitz. and thats because. well. i’m not sure what to do with him.#i think its chapter 12 of solace? thats literally just about him its already written its like 6k words and it resolves absolutely nothing #i’ll figure out how i think he fits in someday maybe

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moregraceful · 8 months

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kasper what’s the best skating skill to work on and what’s the worst one in your estimation

best: one foot c-cuts!!! i’m so bad at them but i love doing them!!! zoom zoom zoom

worst: i would have said bunny hops in the past but we had a substitute teacher two weeks ago who made us do bunny hops and after we did them he said, “you know, for how much you guys complained about doing bunny hops, you’re pretty good?” hell yeah. now my nemesis is one foot glides backwards. my teacher’s like oh you’ll need this for backwards crossovers lady i can’t even do a FORWARD crossover. but i can’t balance for shit backwards on one foot AND i’m like, i can’t see what if i die. so that one is the worst right now

#i will say getting a balance board is helping with the whole keep your fucking knees bent and don’t depressurize problem #and i want to start the dryland work out you sent me bc. i’m dying #and my job has me at a computer 9-5 i feel like if i don’t start working out my body is going to fully atrophy #if i don’t incorporate regular work outs #and HOW will i stunt on the cudas if my body is liquid?? i won’t be able to #i am feeling slightly tragic bc my work schedule doesn’t work out for the class on school figures #but i think my edge control is still too garbage for that lmao #ah well. maybe someday!!#anyway. thank you for asking…i am so bad at ice skating but i have fun and isn’t that what’s important when you’re in your mid-30s lmfao #cage replies #laughingthelaughiest

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the-kaedageist · 1 year

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What’s wild about acquiring such a hectic life and how it has impacted my writing process is that the actual WRITING isn’t the problem. I can sit down and easily hammer out my 400+ words per day mostly without issue (although I do miss more days than I used to).

The REAL problem is that I absolutely no longer have the brainspace for editing and retooling my stories. I have all this content!! And yet none of it is suitable for posting without edits and rewrites! It’s immensely frustrating.

#I have a 2k+ one shot I've been writing that I need to finish and post and it's just...hanging out in my drafts folder!#I want to start posting consecution before Matt josses it even more than it already has been jossed!!#I need to do a rewrite and tweak of the next chapter of 2t2l!#[thousand-yard stare]#and now I have to go jump on my SECOND call of the morning #I hope someday I'll figure out how to balance all of this because right now it's NOT working #my writing #my wips

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pucksandpower · 8 months

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Another Man’s Treasure

Max Verstappen x Reader + Charles Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Charles made the worst mistake of his life when he threw away his relationship with you. Max … well he’s learned to take advantage of others’ mistakes both on and off the track

Warnings: cheating (not the main pairing) and pregnancy

“Please, Charles, why can’t we just talk about it?” you implore, the two of you standing on the balcony overlooking the glimmering lights of Monaco. The city shines brilliantly but your eyes are clouded with frustration and disappointment.

Charles exhales deeply, his jaw clenched as he avoids your gaze. The silver lining of the night —the glimmer of stars overhead — contrasts sharply with the tension between you two. “I told you already, it’s not the right time.

You take a shaky breath, trying to hold back tears. “Every time I bring up having children, you just push it away. Why can’t you see how much this means to me?”

Charles runs his fingers through his dark hair, exhaling slowly. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to have a family with you someday,” he begins, his gaze distant. “But right now, with my career at its peak, I can’t risk distractions.”

“Distractions?” Your voice breaks, the hurt evident in your tone. “Our children would be a distraction?”

He flinches, clearly not expecting that response. “That’s not what I meant. I just … I need to focus on the championship. The pressure is immense. Racing is my life. Ferrari is my life.”

“I understand your dedication to your career, but ...” You pause, your gaze searching his. “Don’t you think we can find a balance? Am I not part of your life too?”

He looks at you, those hypnotizing eyes you’ve always loved flinching away from yours after no more than a second. “I wish I knew how,” he murmurs. “But every time I think of the late nights, the early mornings, the endless travels ... I’m afraid I won’t be there for our children.”

You reach out, holding his face in your hands. “We can figure it out together. But not if you keep shutting me out.”

Charles leans into your touch for a brief moment, his warmth radiating under your fingers. But then he pulls away, taking a deep breath. “I just need time,” he whispers.

“You always say that,” you reply, voice almost inaudible. The weight of the situation presses down on you both. The future, once so clear and bright, is now clouded in uncertainty.

But one thing is clear to you. You love Charles Leclerc. Despite the pain, the hurt, and the disagreements, you still believe that one day, you’ll both find common ground. So, you nod, taking his hand. “Alright, I’ll give you time. But please, don’t take too long.”

He looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and guilt. “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

But deep inside, a gnawing feeling of dread starts to grow, leaving you wondering if you’ve made the right choice.

***

The soft hum of the espresso machine at your favorite café in Monaco is the only thing that brings comfort these days. You take a deep breath, trying to enjoy the momentary solace as you sip on your coffee. But today, the calm is quickly disrupted by the muted buzz of your phone.

An unknown number flashes across the screen. Hesitating for only a moment, you decide to pick up. “Hello?”

A hesitant voice responds, “Is this ... is this you? I’ve seen you with Charles.”

Confused and on guard, you ask, “Who is this?”

The voice falters, “It’s Elise.”

You wrack your brain, trying to figure out who she might be. But before you can respond, Elise continues, “I think we need to meet. There’s something you should know.”

Agreeing to meet up, you find yourself waiting at the edge of the Fontvieille Park, the minutes feeling like hours as you try to decipher what could be so important.

Elise finally arrives, her demeanor nervous, eyes darting around. She’s visibly pregnant.

“I didn’t know how to tell you this,” she begins, looking down at her swollen belly, then up to your eyes, searching for understanding. “This is Charles’ child.”

The world seems to spin, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “What? How? Why?” The questions blur together, each one as painful as the last.

Elise sighs, taking a moment before she speaks, “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. I thought he loved me ... but then I found out about you.”

You’re at a loss for words, feeling a mix of betrayal, anger, and pain more complex than you can describe. The very foundation of your relationship with Charles feels like it’s crumbling beneath you. “He said he wasn’t ready for children,” you whisper, more to yourself than to Elise.

Elise looks genuinely pained. “I didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve never—” she stops herself, tears forming. “I’m so sorry. I thought you deserved to know the truth.”

The rest of the conversation is a blur. Elise shares her story, and you listen, trying to reconcile this new reality. The Charles she describes isn’t the man you thought you knew.

By the time you part ways, the Monaco sunset paints the sky in shades of gold and purple. But its beauty does little to lift the darkness that has settled over your heart. Charles had been unfaithful, and now a child — a constant reminder of his betrayal — was on the way.

***

With every step you take towards the apartment you share with Charles, your emotions churn and crash like tumultuous waves. You have practiced the confrontation in your mind countless times, yet as you reach the door, your hands tremble. Taking a moment to gather your courage, you push it open.

Inside, Charles looks up from the couch, surprised. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” he starts, attempting a smile but his eyes give away a hint of nervousness. Perhaps he senses the storm brewing.

“We need to talk,” you say, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside.

Charles swallows hard, pushing himself up to stand. “About?”

“Elise,” you state simply, watching as his face pales.

He hesitates, and for a moment, you hope for an ounce of remorse, a hint of regret. But when he speaks, his words are cold and detached. “How did you find out?”

“Does it matter?” You shoot back, trying to hold back tears. “Is it true?”

Charles avoids your gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Yes,” he finally admits.

“And the baby? Is it yours?”

Again, he hesitates but then nods. “Yes.”

The weight of the revelation feels like a physical blow, and you stagger back slightly, gripping the back of a chair for support. “All those times … when you said you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time …” Your voice cracks, pain and betrayal evident in every word.

Charles finally meets your gaze but there’s no warmth, no apology in his eyes. “I didn’t plan this,” he says but it’s not a justification, merely a statement.

“That’s supposed to make it better?” you scoff, voice rising in disbelief.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture you recognize as one of discomfort. “I never wanted to hurt you. But things just ... happened.”

“You think that justifies anything? Things just happened?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I gave up so much for us, Charles. I moved away from everything and everyone I knew to be with you. And you threw it all away like it’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs but his apology feels hollow. His eyes betray the truth.

The room is thick with tension and heartbreak. The man you loved, the life you envisioned — both seem like illusions now. You didn’t even know if they were ever real.

“You know what?” You say, a new determination rising within. “I deserve better. I deserve someone who truly values and respects me.” With that, you turn, making your way to the bedroom to pack a few essentials.

Charles doesn’t stop you. And that, more than anything, cements the truth. Your future lies elsewhere. The chapter with Charles is closed.

***

Rain begins to drizzle over Monaco, each droplet reflecting the city’s luminescence. With a bag slung over your shoulder and a broken heart, you wander aimlessly. The streets that once felt like home now seem foreign and cold.

As the rain intensifies, you duck under an awning, the gentle hum of a nearby bar providing a temporary reprieve. You’re lost in thought when a familiar voice breaks through, “Is everything okay? You look a bit ... lost.”

You look up, surprised to find Max Verstappen looking genuinely concerned. His bright blue eyes study your face, searching for an answer.

“Max ...” Your voice trails off, unsure of how much to reveal.

He gestures to the bar beside you. “Want to come in? We can talk or not. Up to you.”

Gratefully, you nod, and the two of you find a quiet corner. The dim lighting offers a cocoon of privacy, away from prying eyes.

Over a glass of wine, words start to tumble out. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the uncertainty of the future. Max listens intently, his gaze never leaving yours. His silence offers a comforting presence, allowing you to unburden your heavy heart.

“I can’t believe Charles would do that to you,” Max says after you finish your story, his voice laced with anger. “You deserve so much better.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I thought we had something special. But I guess I was just naive. And stupid. So stupid.”

Max reaches out, gently wiping away the tear with his thumb. “No. He was the fool for not seeing what a treasure he had.”

The evening wears on and you find solace in Max’s company. The conversation shifts from heartbreak to hopes and dreams. He opens up about his childhood, the pressures of racing, and his aspirations for a family — one where he could offer his children a better upbringing than he had.

The connection between you two grows, the raw vulnerability drawing you closer than you could have ever anticipated over just a few hours.

“It’s getting late,” Max observes, glancing at his watch. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

You hesitate, realizing you hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I ... I hadn’t planned anything.”

Max looks thoughtful for a moment then says, “I have a penthouse not far from here. You’re more than welcome to stay. No expectations, just a place to rest.”

Gratitude swells within you. “Thank you, Max. I really appreciate that.”

The two of you leave the bar together, the rain now a soft drizzle. As you make your way to his place, the weight of the day begins to lift, replaced by an unexpected feeling of hope. You couldn’t have predicted this turn of events but perhaps, just maybe, the universe has a plan for you.

***

The penthouse apartment is a sanctuary, perched high above the city’s twinkling lights. The soft glow of lamps bathes the room in warmth, contrasting with the coolness of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that offer an unobstructed view of Monaco’s beauty.

Max hands you a plush robe and gestures toward the bathroom. “Feel free to freshen up. I’ll make us some tea.”

You nod, grateful for his understanding and hospitality. The hot shower washes away the day’s troubles, and when you emerge, wrapped in the robe, you find Max in the sleek kitchen area, preparing mugs of tea.

“Here you go,” he says, handing you a steaming cup. “Chamomile. Good for relaxation.”

You take a sip, the warm liquid soothing your frayed nerves. “Thank you, Max. For everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you tonight.”

He smiles gently, his eyes meeting yours. “Sometimes, unexpected moments bring people together for a reason.”

The two of you settle onto a surprisingly comfortable leather couch, gazing out at the night sky. Silence envelops you but it’s a comfortable one.

“You know, I never expected to connect with someone like this,” Max says, his voice soft. “Especially not after what you’ve been through.”

You look at him, seeing a depth of sincerity that surprises you. “It’s been a strange and difficult day,” you admit. “But talking to you, it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

Max’s gaze holds yours, and for a moment, it feels like the universe has conspired to bring you to this very place, to this very person.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted a big family. A loving home, something I didn’t really have growing up. I want to give my kids the stability and happiness I never had.”

Tears well up in your eyes, touched by his vulnerability and his willingness to share his dreams with you. “That’s a beautiful aspiration.”

He shifts closer, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And what about you? What do you dream of?”

You lean back, contemplating the question. “I dream of a family too, a partner who’s truly invested, children who grow up knowing they’re loved and supported.”

Max's fingers brush against yours, a gentle touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “You deserve that. You deserve to find happiness.”

As the night deepens, the emotional intimacy between you grows. There’s an unspoken understanding, a shared connection, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope for the future. The chapter with Charles might be closed, but perhaps, with Max, you can start to write a new one — one filled with shared dreams and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

***

The morning sun casts a golden glow over Monaco as it begins its ascent into the azure sky. You wake up, wrapped in the softest sheets you’ve ever felt, with memories of last night’s conversation playing on a loop in your mind.

Exiting the bedroom, you find Max in the open-plan kitchen, whipping up a breakfast spread. “Good morning,” he greets with a warm smile. “I hope you’re hungry.”

As you eat, Max discusses his plans for the day, mentioning an upcoming summer break in the F1 calendar. “A few friends and I have organized a yacht trip during the summer shutdown. It’s a tradition,” he explains. “A way to escape and recharge.”

You nod, picturing the glittering sea and warm beaches. “That sounds wonderful.”

He hesitates for a moment, then, as if taking a leap, says, “Why don’t you join us? It could be a good distraction. Get away from all this ... chaos.”

The offer catches you by surprise. The prospect of a holiday is tempting, especially after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. Plus, the idea of spending more time with Max, getting to know him outside the confines of Monaco, is equally appealing.

After a moment’s contemplation, you reply, “You know what? I think I will. Thank you so much.”

The days leading up to the trip are a blur, filled with shopping for swimsuits and sundresses and a growing sense of anticipation.

When the day finally arrives, you find yourself aboard a lavish yacht, surrounded by Max’s close friends. Laughter and conversations flow easily, the crystal-clear waters providing the perfect backdrop.

As the yacht sets sail, you and Max find a secluded spot on the deck. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. The two of you talk, laugh, and occasionally, just sit in silence, enjoying the tranquillity of the moment.

During a sun-soaked afternoon, Max teaches you how to steer the yacht. Your fingers brush against each other, and there are shared glances, stolen moments, and an electric charge between you that’s impossible to ignore.

Each day deepens the growing bond between you. There are sunrises watched from the deck, dinners under the stars, and long conversations that last into the early hours of the morning.

One night, as the yacht anchors near a secluded cove, Max takes your hand, leading you to a quiet spot. The moonlight dances on the water, creating a magical atmosphere.

“You know,” he begins, his voice soft, “this trip has been special. Not because of the destinations but because of the company.”

You smile, leaning into him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

A tender moment passes between you, one filled with promise and the potential for something more. The yacht trip might be coming to an end but both of you sense that this journey, this new chapter in your lives, has only just begun.

***

The gentle lull of the waves against the yacht rocks you as the moon hangs low in the sky. The night air is warm and fragrant, carrying with it a sense of peace. Tomorrow, the yacht will dock back in Monaco and reality will catch up with you once more. But for now, you’re content to savor these final moments of the trip.

You find Max leaning against the railing, gazing out at the sea. As you approach him, he turns, his expression softening into a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, standing beside him, your shoulders brushing against each other.

“I can’t believe the break is almost over,” Max muses, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

You nod in agreement, casting your gaze out to the horizon. “It still feels like a dream.”

Max glances at you, his eyes holding a certain intensity. “You know, I’ve had an amazing time with you.”

A flutter of warmth ignites in your chest at his words. “Me too. The best time.”

The moment is charged with unspoken feelings, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing day. Max’s fingers brush against yours and the touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t want this to end,” he confesses, gaze never leaving yours.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. “I’ve never felt so connected to someone, so understood.”

He cups your cheek with his hand, his touch tender and affectionate. “I feel the same way. And I don’t want this to end.”

The tension in the air is palpable, heavy with anticipation and longing. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s a kiss filled with all the emotions that have been building between you, a kiss that bridges the gap between friendship and something more.

As the kiss deepens, Max’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you under the moonlit sky.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest against each other, your breaths mingling. Max’s voice is a gentle murmur against your lips. “I don’t want to rush anything. But I also don’t want to pretend that this connection we have isn’t real.”

You meet his gaze, your eyes reflecting the same sincerity. “I don’t want to pretend either. Max, I want to give this — give us — a chance.”

A genuine smile graces Max’s lips and he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “Then let’s take it one step at a time.”

***

“Where to now?” Max asks, his hand lightly touching your arm as the yacht crew busies themselves with docking procedures.

You hesitate, the reality of your situation setting in. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I … I moved here from my home country to be with Charles.”

Max looks concerned. “You can’t stay with him, not after everything.”

“No, definitely not.” You exhale deeply, feeling the weight of the situation. “I’ll figure something out. Maybe find a hotel for a few days.”

Before you can say more, Max interjects, “Stay with me.”

You look at him, a bit taken aback. “Are you sure? We’re still navigating whatever this is between us.”

He nods, his gaze steady and sincere. “I know. But I also know you shouldn’t be alone right now. You can take the guest room or,” he pauses, a hint of mischief in his eyes, “the master bedroom, if you prefer.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his teasing tone but his offer feels genuine. “Alright but only if you promise not to snore.”

Max chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you head off the yacht. “Deal.”

The familiarity of Max’s penthouse greets you as you step inside. It's comforting and safe, an oasis to escape the shattered memories that line the Monaco streets.

While you unpack, Max makes dinner. The two of you eat in comfortable silence, the city lights casting a soft glow through the apartment.

“Thank you for this,” you say, gesturing around the dining room, the food, the moment. “It’s more than I could’ve ever asked for.”

Max meets your gaze, his blue eyes reflecting warmth and understanding. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”

The night unfolds, a sense of peace settling between you. Whether it's the soft hum of the city below or the comforting presence of Max beside you, you drift into a deep, restful sleep.

Waking up the next morning, the events of the past weeks feel like a distant memory. But the man beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, is a calming reminder of new beginnings.

With Max by your side, you feel ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, knowing that no matter what, you’re not alone.

***

“Are you ready for the madness?” Max asks, offering you a hand as you step out of the car, the roar of the crowd at Zandvoort Circuit immediately evident.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk hand-in-hand towards the paddock, drawing attention from fans, crew, and media alike. Whispers spread like wildfire but neither of you flinch. Together, you are a united front.

Suddenly, Charles appears from around the corner, his gaze immediately locking onto yours. “So this is the big reveal?” he asks, dripping with condensing sarcasm.

Max steps protectively in front of you. “It’s none of your business anymore.”

Charles scoffs, his eyes darting to the Red Bull VIP pass around your neck. “Jumping ship already? You always were fickle.”

Ignoring the jab, you retort, “You lost any right to an opinion about my life the second you threw away our relationship.”

Charles’ eyes flare with anger. “And you,” he snaps, turning his attention to the reigning world champion, “you think you can just swoop in—”

Max cuts him off sharply, “I think you’ve said enough.”

“You two deserve each other,” Charles hisses before storming off.

Max wraps an arm around you, his touch reassuring. “Ignore him. Today is about the race, about us. Nothing else.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.”

The race itself is thrilling. From Red Bull garage, you watch as Max masterfully maneuvers his car, leading the pack with unparalleled skill. Every turn, every overtake steals your breath. And when he crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd painting the grandstands orange is deafening.

As Max emerges from his car, he’s immediately surrounded by his team, celebrating yet another victory. And then, spotting you in the crowd, he breaks away, making a beeline towards you. Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

The world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. As you pull apart, Max’s eyes shine with triumph and love. “For you,” he murmurs, holding up the trophy.

Laughing, you pull him close once more. The challenges and confrontations of the day pale in comparison to the joy of this moment. Together, you and Max are unstoppable. And as you celebrate his victory, you know that this is just the beginning of many more triumphant moments to come.

***

The familiar sounds of roaring engines, the scent of burning rubber, and the vibrant energy of the paddock have been a part of your life for years. But being around the Red Bull team feels like a different world compared to your previous experiences with Ferrari.

Christian Horner welcomes you with open arms. “It’s great to have you on board,” he says during a quiet moment in the Red Bull motorhome. “Max seems happier than he’s been in a long time.”

You smile, thinking of the nights spent laughing with Max, the whispered conversations, and reflected dreams. “I’m grateful to be here. And to be with Max.”

Helmut Marko, although initially intimidating with his sharp gaze, soon warms up to you. “Just take care of our champ,” he jokes one evening after another successful race.

As the weeks pass, the bond between you and the Red Bull team strengthens. Daniel Ricciardo becomes a close friend, often joining you and Max for dinner or movie nights. Sergio Perez, with his playful humor, keeps everyone laughing, while the mechanics and engineers teach you the deeper intricacies of the sport.

Yet, it’s not all smooth sailing. The media, always hungry for a story, constantly probes into your relationship with Max. Rumors swirl, some true, most fabricated. Yet, through it all, Max remains your anchor, always supporting and defending you.

One evening, as the two of you relax in his suite after a grueling race weekend, Max turns to you, his eyes serious. “I know this world can be intense, the scrutiny constant. But I hope you know that you’re not alone in this.”

You nod, feeling a swell of emotion. “Being with you, being part of this team, it’s incredible. Like finding a family I never knew I needed.”

Max smiles, pulling you close. “That’s because you are family. And I promise, no matter what, we’ll face everyone and everything together.”

The season progresses, and as Max inches closer to clinching the championship title once again, the excitement within the Red Bull team reaches a fever pitch. Through every high and low, every victory and setback, you stand beside Max, cheering him on.

***

“Easy there!” Christian says, catching you just as the world starts to spin and your vision blurs.

The sound of concerned voices surrounds you as you struggle to stay conscious but it’s too much. Everything goes black.

When you come to, you’re lying on a couch in Red Bull hospitality, Max’s anxious face hovering above yours. “Hey,” he murmurs, relief evident in his voice. “You scared me there.”

“What ... what happened?” you ask, your voice weak.

“You fainted,” Daniel chimes in from nearby. “We’re getting a doctor to check on you.”

True to his word, a doctor soon arrives, performing a series of tests and asking various questions. He recommends a more thorough examination and you find yourself being whisked away to a nearby clinic.

As you await the results, Max holds your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “I’m right here,” he assures you. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”

The doctor returns, a knowing smile on his face. “Congratulations,” he says, looking at both of you. “You’re going to be parents.”

The room goes silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in. You turn to Max, searching his face for a reaction. “I’m sorry. I ... I didn’t expect this. It’s so soon.”

Max pulls you close, his eyes glassy with tears of joy. “Life has a funny way of surprising us,” he murmurs. “But I know one thing for sure. I can’t imagine having a family with anyone else.”

Your emotions swirl, a mix of surprise, joy, and fear. “Are you sure? What about your career? The media?”

Max silences you with a gentle kiss. “None of that matters. The only thing I care about is us. Our family.”

Tears roll down your cheeks, touched by his words. “I love you,” you whisper, heart full to overflowing.

Max grins, his blue eyes shining. “And I love you. This might be unexpected but it’s the best surprise of my life.”

***

“Three-time World Champion! How does that feel?” A journalist thrusts a microphone towards Max moments after his astounding win in Qatar.

“It’s surreal,” Max responds, his gaze seeking you out among the crowd. “Every championship is special but this one ... it’s different.”

The winter months are a haven of privacy for the two of you in your own little bubble. As the world speculates about the upcoming racing season, you and Max nest away from prying eyes, savoring the anticipation of your growing family.

However, when the 2024 season kicks off, it’s impossible to hide your baby bump any longer. Whispers ripple through the crowd as you walk through the paddock with Max for the first day of preseason testing.

“It’s so obvious now!”

“They look so happy together.”

“She’s glowing.”

But one voice rises above the rest from the sea of murmurs, filled with venom. “So this is your grand plan? Trap Max by getting pregnant?”

You turn to find Charles, his face contorted with anger. You take a deep breath, preparing to face the storm. “Charles, this really isn’t the place—”

Max steps forward, partially blocking you from Charles’ view, his voice colder than ice. “What do you want?”

Charles scoffs, looking you up and down with disdain. “Just wanted to see the spectacle for myself. You always did know how to play the game.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger, his posture tense. “Let me make this clear. You don’t get to disrespect Y/N or our relationship. You lost that right a long time ago.”

“You think this will make him stay with you?” Charles sneers towards you. “That he won’t get tired of you just like he did with all the others?”

Before you can respond, Daniel steps in, his presence commanding and the joking smile that usually graces his face nowhere to be found. “Enough. Show some respect.”

Christian, overhearing the commotion, joins the fray. “Is there a problem here?” he asks, voice firm.

Charles hesitates, glancing around at the united front against him. “No,” he finally mutters, turning on his heel and walking away.

Max’s grip on your hand tightens, his expression stormy. “You know you’re never alone in this, right?” he asks.

You nod, your voice soft but resolute. “I do. And I know you’ll always have my back. Just like I’ll always have yours.”

He squeezes your hand. “Always. Nothing and no one can ever come between us. Our family is the most important thing in my life.”

***

The soft hum of chatter surrounds the preschool’s main entrance. Parents eagerly await their children, discussing the excitement of the first day. You stand beside Max, his hand resting protectively on your protruding belly.

“Look, Mama!” A little voice exclaims and two giggling children rush towards you — your daughter, Sophie, and a boy with familiar dark hair.

Before you can respond, another voice joins the fray. “Henri! Over here!”

You turn, finding Charles standing there, Elise by his side, her arm entwined with his. Their eyes meet yours, a mixture of surprise and recognition.

Sophie hugs her little friend, Henri. “This is my new best friend!”

Max bends down, ruffling Sophie’s hair. “That’s great, liefje.” He then stands and addresses Charles, his tone neutral, “Seems our children have taken a liking to each other.”

Charles nods, attempting a smile. “It appears so.”

There’s an awkward silence, the past hanging heavily between you all.

Finally, Elise speaks, her voice quivering, “I’m sorry ... for everything. I never expected things to turn out like this.”

You meet her gaze, seeing genuine remorse. “Life is full of surprises. But it led me to Max and he is the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

Max adds, “What’s important is that we’re all here for our kids. Let’s not make our past their burden.”

Charles sighs, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. I regret many things but right now, Henri is my world and I want the best for him.”

You place a hand on your belly, feeling the tiny kicks. “Our children have a chance at a fresh start, a friendship untainted by the history of their parents. Let’s not stand in their way.”

The two children, oblivious to the emotional weight of the moment, tug at your arms. “Can we go to the park? Pretty please.” Sophie asks, her eyes shining with excitement.

You smile down at her, “Of course.”

As your two families part ways, there’s a sense of closure. The past, with its pain and betrayal, has been acknowledged, but the future, the innocent laughter of your children, holds promise. Life has moved on, leading each of you down different paths, but in this moment, there’s newfound unity in the shared hope for a brighter tomorrow.

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

poly!marauders x reader but reader is contemplating their relationship?

(IDK IF YOU DO ANGST SORRY 😭)

No worries!! It's definitely not my most practiced genre but I'm happy to give it a try :) Honestly unsure if this came out as angsty enough, so please do not be shy and let me know if not! Thanks for requesting

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 886 words

James, Remus, and Sirius balance each other out perfectly. James is so sweet he should come with a warning label, always showering everyone in affection and bringing joy into every room he's in; Remus emanates a quieter sort of contentedness, and he provides a calm, rational perspective when the others need it; and Sirius takes everything they have together and dials it up to eleven, the depth of his feelings so intense that being around him is almost a sort of high.

The issue is, you're not sure where you fit into all that.

The boys seem to care about you, but you can't really figure out why. You have none of James' lightness, Remus' patience, Sirius' humor. You've been trying to hold onto this thing between you, to enjoy it while it lasts, but waiting for the other shoe to drop is becoming maddening. Eventually—someday soon, likely—they're going to realize that they're better off without you.

Naturally, you're pondering this while Sirius braids your hair, James chattering about why he thinks you all need a dog (Sirius has pointed out that you already have him) and Remus reading with his back leaned against your side.

You're trying to figure out the least needy way to ask why they care about you when Remus nudges you with a movement of his shoulder.

"You've been quiet tonight, dove."

It's far from accusatory, but the other boys pick up on the implication nonetheless. Suddenly, all the attention in the room is on you. It's a bit overwhelming.

"I was just thinking..." you say tentatively, unsure of your words. "Do you think we'll all stay together?"

James looks as though you've slapped him, and though Remus doesn't turn, you feel the muscles in his shoulders tense.

"Why would you say that?" James asks. "Of course I think so."

"But..." Merlin, there's no easy way to go about this conversation. "I just, I don't really see what I'm bringing to the table here." You cringe at your own words, awaiting judgement—or worse, epiphany—from your boyfriends.

Sirius, whose hands have been motionless in your hair since you spoke up, abandons his project entirely, letting your hair drop limply from his grasp. "Wha—what does that even mean, what you bring to the table?"

Remus turns around, placing a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Easy, love," he murmurs. "Y/N, can you tell us what you're worried about?"

You look between them as Sirius comes to sit beside Remus, feeling stupid and immature. "Sorry, it's not...a you-guys thing. It's just that, I can see how well you work together, and why you love each other, but I don't really see why you'd love me." Your voice gets quieter as you finish, shameful of your thoughts and the position you know you're putting them in.

Sirius releases a disbelieving exhale, slumping into Remus' side, and the taller boy wraps an arm around him, looking at you like you're one of his crosswords and have just given him a particularly perplexing clue.

"Sweetheart," James says, pulling your attention towards him, "it's not a matter of why we would love you, just that we do. Do you need to list off reasons for why you care about every person in your life, or doesn't it just happen?"

"I don't need to," you admit, "but I could. I love you guys because of who you are."

"And so do we," Remus says. "Dove, we care about you. Isn't that enough? Can you trust us with that?"

"It's not..." It's not a matter of trusting them. You'd trust any of them with your life, with everything. It's that you don't trust yourself. It's that you're worried you won't live up to it, to this earnest affection they're offering you. You don't think you deserve it.

"How about this," Sirius says, in his typical cut-to-the-chase manner. "If we didn't love you—and have damn good reasons for loving you—we wouldn't be with you. So there." You must look unconvinced, because Sirius arches a brow. "You don't think that, with James' bod and Remus' hot accent, not to mention my boyish charm, we could have anyone we wanted?"

You crack a smile, but Sirius just looks at you, awaiting an answer. You shrink a bit under his gaze.

"You could," you say sheepishly.

"Right." Sirius grins suavely. "And we used those combined faculties to snag this hot piece of ass." Without warning, he reaches out and drags you into him, the two of you piling an unfair amount of weight onto Remus.

You squeal, and James shouts "Oi! Leave our poor Moony alone," tugging on Remus' arm until Remus sighs, disentangling himself from Sirius and going to sit beside James. James ruffles his hair, planting a triumphant kiss on the taller boy's cheek. If Remus blushes a bit, you pretend not to notice.

"Got that?" Sirius looks at you threateningly, but his voice is soft, his eyes imploring. "We want you, baby. Finders, keepers."

James nods as if this is a sage decree. "Think you might be able to get used to that?" he asks, and you know he's only partly joking.

You relax into Sirius' hold, giving Remus and James an apologetic look. "Yeah," you say. You can definitely get used to this.

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getyourdirtyhandsoffme · 3 months

Text

Title: "Smoking hot" (18+)

Sanji x ftm reader

Warning: mentions of smoking, a bit (?) toxic idk, mentions the word 'boy cunt' or 'boy pussy', porn with plot, Sanji relieving his sex drive, feminine terms, mentions of 'boy tits' pre-surger. Nipple sucking. The chances of gender dysphoria are quite high, didn't proof read nor use a grammar site to fix this, straight (?) Sanji using your body with consent.

Author: y'all, I'm bored and I just wanted to make a Sanji x FTM reader. I'm a Sanji simp, sadly. Idk wtf I made, I called it a day.

Like, comment, or/and reblog! Thank you!

You joined the Strawhats when Luffy crashed into your house and just demanded you to come after learning about your skills, baking and swift skills with weapons.

You were always quick in your feet when it comes to making desserts along with matching your skill sets with the main cook, Sanji.

You loved Sanji but he wouldn't love you.

He loves women, girls, every kind of lady he will nose bleed without any hesitation.

You, a man, well a transgender man in fact, don't see yourself as a woman and would rather have him treat you like any other man then fawn over you like he does with Nami and Robin, both girls.

You didn't really come out yet, nor are you ready anyways.

You knew they wouldn't judge at all, most definitely Luffy. He would mostly be curious but as long as you are cool and strong then he won't care.

You just weren't ready so you kept it a secret for a while until a doctor, Chopper found out later on when you were injured.

He scolded you a bit for tightening your chest too tight until you gave him your reason.

He understands, of course, he is a doctor, he knows these types of things.

He thought of a different solution and something more healthier but it would be hard to find that type of material, he is willing to help and keep your secret.

Months gone by—fights, parties, adventures, etc.

You finally got the material Chopper promised, a binder. It was comfortable and makes your chest look like a man's chest. The only rule is you only have to wear it for 8 hours, you can't sleep in it.

Which is another challenge since you sleep in the boys deck.

So Chopper thought to just have you sleep in the doctor's quarters.

Some of the boys along with the girls question, except Chopper, however they just choose to ignore it thinking it's probably hard to sleep in the men's room.

Nami found that understandable as she would've done the same thing.

Sanji fawned over her just thinking of the girls sleeping in the same section as the men—he got punched by Nami.

It continues on, your secret still kept in along with Chopper checking up on you.

You really need to tell them someday, just not sure how or when.

Until now.

It was your turn for the night, Sanji was up making you food for the night while you were getting ready to take a shower.

You didn't think too much of it so you just chose not to lock the door...a bad idea.

Sanji, the man he is, walks in without even knocking as he thought it was a good idea to just dump the food on top of the sink carefully since you were both 'men'.

Sanji looks at you in shock, trying not to nose bleed by your feminine figure as you try not to cry out of embarrassment.

Of course, Sanji being the gentleman he is, apologized as he takes the food and runs out of the bathroom closing the door behind him.

It was never mentioned again after that.

It was awkward.

You couldn't look at Sanji straight nor Sanji as well.

He tried to treat you like he treats other men in the ship but it was hard for him, kinda.

Of course, he knows you see yourself as a man but your body, your chest, those woman parts. He couldn't. So he just chooses to just insult you then hitting you to balance it out.

It continued on until another situation happened again.

Luffy stops at an island so it was only you and the cook watching over the ship.

Sanji did complain how he would rather be with the ladies to protect them but got pushed down by Nami saying we need someone strong to watch over the ship which swooned him again.

Nami did mention you as well but you weren't that offended, honestly you knew you were not that strong as those monster trio so you just shrugged off.

You thought things would be normal.

You thought.

You moaned as a high sex drive Sanji slammed into you with hard thrust making both of your legs wobble. Your clit was going through the hard thrust as you smell the smoke hitting the air.

"Fuck, I needed this so much. Your boy pussy is pleasing my dick so well..."

His voice, deep and raspy making you shiver as he continues on fucking you. His hands reach through your jiggling chest from the harsh thrust, grabbing and squishing it.

"Fuck, even you boy tits are moving is so sexy. What a fuckin pretty boy, I'll miss these..." He takes off his cigarette and places it on top of your lips, indicating you to hold it.

You took the cigarette from his fingers with your mouth as you watched Sanji lean into your chest and started sucking hard onto your hard nipples, making you moan, tasting the ash into your mouth.

You reach the cigarette from your mouth, taking it out as you continue on moaning.

He stops sucking your nipples as he stares at you.

"You're going to be my personal sex toy, this boy cunt belongs to me, you got that?"

You just nodded as he took out his dick as the semen spurted into your thighs. Your clit clenching into nothing as you whimpered from the emptiness.

"Look at that...your boy pussy really wants another round, aye?" His fingers touch your puffed clit, feeling the wetness from his fingers.

"let's go again, after this other smoke. I still feel horny, you think you can take all of that away, baby boy? All of these women couldn't get a chance with me but you, a man with feminine body parts, you are perfect..." He lines his dick again into your puffy cunt as he slams again making you moan louder.

"I wonder if this makes me gay....whatever."

I got like thousands of drafts (16+ drafts) ummm y'all ill lock in UHHHH...

#ftm reader #male reader #x ftm reader #x male reader #sanji x male reader #sanji x reader #one piece x male reader #one piece x reader #x bottom male reader #x bottom reader #mr.off #mr.offstory #vinsmoke sanji #one piece scenario

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fredwkong · 10 months

Text

Himbo Maker: Jean

Jean was deep into muscle. Ever since he’d been the smallest kid in his class every year in school, he’d felt an intense need to someday become the kind of guy who could really dominate a room with his body.

However, even as an adult, he was still a little guy. He’d tried for years, but no matter what, his dark-skinned body stayed slender. So instead, he spent all his free time on forums dedicated to muscle growth, living vicariously through the experiences of others as they gained muscle and posted pictures.

One day he received an unusual message request from another guy on the forum. He’d never seen him in the threads before, but his username was Himbo_mkr so Jean assumed he was probably here for roleplay.

Techie_jean: Hey man. What’s up?

Himbo_mkr: Not much bro. Just been chilling and looking at pix of muscley dudes. I noticed you don’t make many posts. You good?

Techie_jean: Guess I’ve just never done the smart thing and gotten myself a plan.

Himbo_mkr: Brah, you don’t need a plan! I can help you get big in just a few minutes! Wanna give it a shot?

Jean chuckled. Yep, this guy was looking for some roleplay. He looked around his room. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do this afternoon but play video games and build some Gundam. He may as well have some fun with this guy first.

Techie_jean: Sure! What do I have to do first?

Himbo_mkr: The first thing you gotta do is get dumb, bro! Muscles aren’t made with smarts, you need to have nothing in your brain but flexing, eating, and fucking to really build hot muscle.

Straight to the point, huh! Jean was about to type a message in character as a dummy when he felt a tingling in his head. His brain suddenly felt like it was full of cotton, he was having trouble putting thoughts together. Slowly, he made his fingers move. He had to really focus to string the words together.

Techie_jean: Bro… What’s happenin to me?

Himbo_mkr: You’re getting dumb, bro! When a guy gets really serious about getting big muscles, the power to do it comes from all of his useless brains! The smarter he was at the start, the bigger and dumber he ends up.

Jean… supposed that made sense? He couldn’t figure out how this guy could be wrong. He wasn’t really the smartest guy, after all. He scratched his head and looked around his room. It was like it was changing before his eyes, but that couldn’t be right either. No more video games, just a pile of gay muscle pornos. His gundam and other dolls replaced with sex toys and gear that he used to show off his skinny little body. Jean was definitely not smart by any means.

Dummy_jean: Yeah bro, I’m pretty stupid. What were we talkin about?

Himbo_mkr: Getting you swole, huhuhu! Now that you’ve drained your useless brain, your muscles are gonna get huge, bro! You’re a big thick muscle bro!

Jean gasped as an indescribable warm sensation overtook his whole body. With a crack, his back, arms, and legs extended, making him a towering beanpole of a man. His muscles started to vibrate, and then expand. His legs jerked as his quads and then his hamstrings inflated, and were quickly balanced by a thick, jiggly muscle ass. His pecs burst forth from his chest to form a sturdy shelf, and then his back thickened along with his lats, belly, and growing arms.

Looking around, Jean took in the changing space. There was a new dent in his dirty mattress from his huge body, and a weight bench and rack in the corner. Of course, he had to lift all day every day to keep up his bulk. The walls and ceiling were covered in pictures of all Jean’s favourite bodybuilders, his inspiration and his jerk material.

Dumbro_jean: Whoa, bruh, my muscles are gettin huge!

Himbo_mkr: That’s not all, bro! That thick Quebecois cock of yours is keeping up too!

Quebecois? Jean was a bit dumb, sure, but he was pretty sure he’d grown up in Atlanta… Quebec City, right. His dick lengthened and lightened at the same time, and the pale skin tone rushed over his still-growing body. A healthy layer of fat followed, leaving him looking absolutely enormous. Above the blond behemoth’s bed, a Quebec flag unfurled on the wall, showing his national pride.

Jean could barely remember who he’d been before. He knew he’d been smaller… smarter? He’d been American. The idea that he’d so quickly become this huge pale Quebecois stud had him grunting and palming his dick. Soon he was close, cursing quietly in his deep new Quebecois accent.

QC_jean: Calisse, bro, gonna cum!

Himbo_mkr: Yeah brah! Shoot that musky hockey bro load.

Hell yeah! Jean grabbed a used athletic jock that had just appeared next to him. He remembered: he’d worn it for practice this morning, and it was still warm and wet with his sweat. He loved being on the ice, and being around a whole team of big, dumb, sweaty Quebecois hockey players meant he was always leaking in his jock. He held the pouch up to his nose to inhale the musk of his sweat and precum permeating the jock.

His whole room was ripe with used hockey bro gear. Jean hated cleaning any of his equipment while he was on a points streak, and it’d been a few weeks since he’d failed to score in a game. The hockey stuff scattered on the floor was ripe with stale sweat. Being a hockey bro was so fucking hot.

Jean’s thick cock unleashed a torrent of cum as he continued to curse in Quebecois. When he came down, he gave himself a sniff and looked back at his battered old laptop. It was only good for porn and surfing forums, but a bro like him didn’t need it for anything else.

Right now, the browser was open to one of his favourite sports jock forums. He had a post all ready to go, a pic of him after the last game, half undressed in his sweaty gear with his hair stuck to his face, looking like a perfect dumb hockey bro. Quickly, Jean also snapped a picture of his spent dick and sent it to his friend.

Hockey_jean: Include this too?

Himbo_mkr: Definitely, bro! You love showing off your hockey himbo body.

Yeah, this guy was right about everything. No one loved to show off that he was a hot hockey bro for the bros more than Jean.

Inspired by a chat with a bot of my own creation. Format inspired by Codename: Bear_mkr by @biggerchanger

#himbo maker #himbofication #dumber tf #hockey player tf #musk tf #race change #quebecois tf #male transformation #reality change #chat tf #male tf #all fwkong #sports tf

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stargirl-writes · 5 months

Text

heal

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 3.5 k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

in which anakin skywalker chooses to run away with you before all is lost in mustafar.

tags : au, angst!!, hurt/no comfort

warnings : toxic love, dark fic, ptsd, and reader being so dependent on anakin, suicidal behavior

notes : my reader character being a healer is my self indulgent insert 😭

i've sat w this 4 so long cause i was like 'realistically, what would happen if anakin ran away?' and i think i've finally made up my mind abt it.

time is moving fast for this fic because i wanted to cover so much, so heads up for the skips!

ALSO, ear-ringing apologist perspective. if u can't handle reader being blind to faults, this is not for u haha!

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.

At least, it was something you want believed in.

The clone war that raged on revealed just how much people can be persuaded to do horrible things when their survival is at stake.

You underestimated that instinct yourself. The burning desperation to not lose your Anakin Skywalker. You thought, you would have killed for him, the way he would for you.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the one to tell you how Anakin became irredeemable.

It was a blur how you flew to Mustafar despite it. You needed Anakin to admit to it, you needed to take him away from what he'll become.

The crimes he committed made you feel sick, septic like a festering wound.

But, whether you love what you love.

Or live in divided ceaseless revolt against it, what you love is your fate.

You've been so alone. So much so, you can only define a time with Anakin, and without him.

It was gradual. It couldn't have been some higher power that destined you to him, He had been a General of a war, and you, the Healer. It was all odds, that you fell in the right place at the wrong time.

An unwilling hero, and a glorified murderer.

He was crafted to be a tool in the war. Divinely created by the Force with the purpose of bringing balance. And in a war, that meant doing damage, killing.

Every victory he had was a stark contrast to yours.

Every life he takes, be it a droid or a separatist, is a win. And every life you lose is a name added to the long list of casualties.

You and Anakin were opposites.

So, the shock of it remains, because somehow along the way, Anakin loved you. And you loved him. You had each other to cling to.

The terror of What if it doesn't last, What if there's no one else? What happens if it goes back to being alone? persists.

And you might not belong anywhere else.

But you were his. As he is yours. Not in the manner of possession. Yours in the way of devotion.

Mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love.

You knew that Anakin's love was conditional. You were only the one in front of him. You didn't misunderstand. You let him use you anyway.

It's not like you were loving him unconditionally, it was because you were terrified to be lonely.

At least, in the beginning, you believed so.

Most days were occupied by your duties. And Anakin would love you in a way that is shaped like fingers wrapped around a throat. Incessant. Hungry. Teeth deep in possession. Making up for the little time, holding you against him as if he was bracing himself that someday you won't be around.

It felt like he was always saying goodbye.

So, though your heart was nearly breaking out of your ribs, you flew by yourself to Mustafar.

A pile of lifeless Separatist figures greeted you in horror.

It was true. Anakin had gone to the dark side. What he did with those children...

The fear consumed you like a corrosion, but still, you stood in front of him, begging him to come back.

Anakin had carried a deep malaise when you had found him. It was almost emanating from his blood-stained robe, a coldness, a deadly assurance.

"You're not supposed to be here," Anakin says in a strangled voice. His hands firmly holding your arms.

The color of his eyes startled you. It was like looking at a ghost, and all that was left was an unending rage. You fought to not let your fear swallow you.

"Anakin, we have to go" Your lips quivered, not entirely sure what you were planning.

There will never be escaping the things he's done.

You want him to go away with you, anyway.

Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.

For a while, it was quiet. Anakin's glossy blue eyes were gazing at you, in conflict, and begging to be understood.

"I can't... Don't you see? I've restored justice to the galaxy" He abruptly lets go, and turns, concealing his face away from your sight. "The things I've done... I can't, there's no running away from it"

The guilt he feels leads him to think that the only path now is through the one he sacrificed his morality for.

"No," you struggled, voice failing to hide your anguish. "Anakin, you can't let this be your fate. Run away with me." You pleaded, eyes filled with tears.

A life of loneliness. With no one, the way it used to.

Then, Anakin half turns. He surveys your willingness to take him as he is. Maybe, even wanting to believe it.

You have always loved Anakin, even the parts you have not understood.

Perhaps, this was the similarity that bound you together. Burning devotion. One that allows you to see past your moral code.

You gave so much to the war. You'd run yourself spent from the hours. You fought so hard to keep people from dying. You'd never taken anything but this. A chance at life. Away from it all.

"I would've done anything you asked of me" His voice reveals his devastation.

You stepped forward, "Then come with me, Leave it all behind, I need you"

You held your breath, half convinced that this may very much be the end of things.

But Anakin takes your hand, and you don't waste a minute more to take him away in your ship.

Your hands shook the entire time.

The galaxy was silent when the war ended.

Mace Windu's attempt to assassinate the Chancellor made the Jedi an enemy of the Empire.

It triggered an Order that made clone soldiers turn against their Generals. The Jedi are hunted down for treason.

You and Anakin will never find security again.

The atmosphere was thick with emotions that were strained by the abruptness of events. It was making it so much harder to breathe. To live with the truth of it.

All three years of the war are reduced to two moments; Anakin falling into Palpatine's manipulation, and Anakin choosing to run away with you.

You caught yourself slipping away. Tucked in a corner of your mind where you can feel safe.

The healer's oath replays in your mind, the cruelest reminder.

Blind to faults, blind to good. Serve to save, not to see.

As the jedi healer, you weren't allowed to deny patients. You wondered whether that played into role when you stomached all the horrible things Anakin did. Serve to save, despite, despite, despite...

You landed in a remote place on your home planet of Hapes.

It was a secluded cabin that you used to go to when you were younger. Surrounded by a lake that stretches as far as your eyes can see. It was the first thing that came to mind when you set your ship on autopilot.

Anakin was quiet the entire time.

You, too, became paralyzed by the events that has unraveled.

For a few days, it remained like that.

Though the event has passed, your body can't quite regulate.

It still feels as though someone will find you. And take Anakin with them. You knew your hypervigilance was a consequence of your trauma, but knowing doesn't mean you can let the feeling go.

Even Anakin responds to mild stressors as if he was still in the war. He'd not let you off his sight the first few weeks.

You felt as though Anakin was trying to process everything in his mind. And you grew terrified of his growing silence. Knowing Anakin meant knowing his tendencies to vacillate violently. The reality of what he had done would set and it'd twist into something septic. An unending shame.

You were convinced that he'd have killed himself from it.

But then he'd stare at you deeply as if he was committing you to memory. He'd coddle your face in his palm. He'd hold your hand, hands that are capable of so much rage, and so much tenderness. He'd hold you tight against him in bed, the way he used to.

He can't quite communicate it through words yet, so he'd rely on his touch to let you know that he was still here. Your anxieties eased after. He needed to detangle it on his own. You'd be there whenever he is ready.

Obi-Wan Kenobi appears the next month.

It was through luck that you were the one to open the door.

You knew Obi-Wan would want Anakin to answer for the crimes he's committed.

You won't let him.

"What do you want?" You say cautiously. Stepping forward to the Jedi Master to stop him from entering your new home.

Obi-wan furrows his eyebrows at your action. He gazes at you for a moment before speaking up. "You know what he's done, [Name]"

"The Republic has fallen. The system that replaced it won't hold him to what he's done. It's the very reason for its existence, anyway"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows flashed hearing your words. It seemed as though you'd be the last person he'd expect to exhibit such... heartlessness.

"And what, do you intend to keep him here forever?"

You looked down, fiending an expression of indifference you learnt from Anakin.

"I'm more selfish than he is"

Obi-Wan sighs. There were no more Jedi Council to hold Anakin accountable. You wonder if Obi-Wan had gone looking for him out of the responsibility he felt he had. You could use that.

"If you have any love left for Anakin, You'll leave him with me" You persuaded.

Obi-Wan sharply looks at you. You knew he was being torn apart by his mind and heart.

The door swings, revealing Anakin who appears behind you.

Anakin's arm extends to put you behind him. Obi-Wan was caught, stricken by the sight of his apprentice. You held on to Anakin's forearm.

You held your breath.

Then, Obi-Wan opens his arm to hug Anakin.

Anakin froze, perhaps not expecting his Master to embrace him after...

He turns his head to look at you, then back to his Master. And he reluctantly wraps his arm around Obi-Wan.

You exhaled finally.

You saw Obi-Wan's glossy eyes as he pulled away. He may not forgive Anakin for all the things he's responsible for, but his love for him surpasses all the anger he has.

Gaining his master's acceptance, Anakin became recognizable once more.

However, Obi-Wan could not stay. Perhaps, he's grown sick of stomaching the love he had for Anakin. It was not an easy feeling to be fond of.

When Obi-Wan left, Anakin finally came to you.

It hauntingly paralleled the moment he broke down after he lost his mother. After he gave in to his rage. Only this time, he didn't hold the pose of defiance and came undone, weeping for what he'd done.

You held him and told him that what matters now is what he'll choose to do.

And in the months that come, Anakin has fought to deserve your forgiveness.

He wanted to earn your love.

As a healer, your experience with foraging natural medicine made you more equipped to build a sustainable life. In six months, you were able to make this house by the lake a place to call home.

But, Anakin is being dragged through time. He'd do his best to help, but you can feel his... silence. The weight of it, this was not the life he was groomed to have. He has always lived off the adrenaline. The absence of it makes him constantly feel as though he is at the other end of the high.

It'd worry you whenever he comes home late from a hunt. He's always been reckless, that much hasn't changed. He'd come home covered in tissue deep cuts, bruised muscles, and a dead-pan look in his eyes. It was a topic that you tried to communicate— and a topic Anakin would respond defensively to.

"It's nothing" He'd dismiss whilst you were dressing the wound.

You'd press the clean gauze over his skin, on the brink of anxiety. He'd wince and take the gauze from your hand.

And you'd stand up and leave, because your patience would have run out by then.

It upset you how he always stands on a cliff to wait for the winds to swoon him over because he won't jump, he won't make that decision himself.

Your breaths were shallow as you tried to calm down after yelling about how his passivity over danger was eating at you. You needed him to try. Because you can't save him on your own.

"I'm sorry" Anakin looks down, receding. " I just don't know how to do this" He admits, eyes wide, childlike, helpless.

And you thaw, breaths shallow as you fought to not cry from the anger.

"Anakin, if you don't..." You began, looking down at the ground as if the words would appear before you there. "if you don't want this anymore, you can go"

Because the entire year you have spent in this cabin, it felt like time has frozen. You hoped that in time, you and Anakin would find the courage to move past the war. Of course, it was futile, you can never take back what you've given to the effort.

Whatever is left of you and Anakin is all there is now. And sometimes, it feels like there is nothing. Just ghosts of who you once were. You weren't sure if being with you was making any difference at all.

You were selfish, but not enough to keep him as he wastes away. You'd let him go, even if it'd cripple you forever.

Anakin grabs both of your shoulders firmly, forcing you to look up to him.

"Why do you think I came with you?" Anakin's voice was stern. His eyes fixed, determined to imprint words to your heart.

You held on to his arm, swallowing your anguish. "I only meant that if I'm not doing you any good, you should—"

"And where would I go?" He interrupts, unrelenting.

"I don't know" You admitted. You're ruining him. You've done this to him. You should let him go.

His grip loosened, and his lips kept opening and closing as if he was eating up the words before letting it leave his mouth.

"—I'm trying, [Name]"

"I'm giving you my life, I don't have anything larger to give" His voice breaks, and his head dips. "I'm trying" he repeats.

You felt his tears warm against your clavicle. Your fingers tangling with his hair.

"I know, Ani" You coo gently. "We'll try together" You promised.

It was becoming clearer that he was alleviating his sins by trying to kill the entity that once controlled him. It was also becoming harder to see a monster when all you see is Anakin, the love you abandoned everything for.

Anakin, who was sold as a slave, and then freed, only to be chained to another lifelong servitude through the Jedi. Anakin, who was dropped in the middle of a war, and made responsible for a child whilst being a child himself.

The Jedi Order relied on his nature of winning, despite not agreeing with his tactics. He'd be patronized for his violence, which his life would soon be defined by. Anakin's worst action is murder, the same way his best action is murder. Because if he doesn't answer to the shots fired, he'd be the one receiving them.

He was never afforded any space to become anything else.

Except when he's with you.

Anakin can become cruel, the same way he is loving. Two truths can exist at the same time.

And with the months that flew by, you watched as Anakin continually chose to not let his darkness define him.

You were learning things about him that you couldn't have had during the war. The way he neatly keeps inventory of his tools. The intense focus in his eyes when he is concentrating. The way the wood creaks— the cadence of his steps. All committed to memory because no one else can know him the way you do.

He told you, you saved him. And you wept, unsure whether what you did was really an act of selflessness.

Living with him became easier. No more effort to try to gain his love. No approval, no admiration to attain. There is no role to play, no one to convince. Just, being. There was so much time, and the only thing that mattered was; how long do we have each other?

Most days, Anakin would carry his grief so well, that you'd forget it was even there. He'd work to minimize it, to live with it. However, when the dark comes, he has no control over his dreams. and the overwhelming shame and guilt seep.

It had been two years when you woke up abruptly to find the space beside you empty.

You grabbed your robe, the cold midnight air felt crisp against your skin. Finding Anakin was easy. He'd always wander towards the edge of the lake, staring at the moons.

"It's cold, Ani, come back to sleep" You urged, but Anakin's gaze was far away.

He has chopped some of his hair, and it looked the way it used to during the war. It startles you sometimes to remember how young he still was.

"I had a dream" He speaks softly, arms finding a way to snake around you so he'd press you against him. "It felt as real as you now" His gaze lands on you.

It terrified you to ask, but you did anyway.

"We had a child"

Oh.

You chuckled in surprise. Stepping back to process what he said. It just never seemed to occur to you, then. Though you have never dismissed the idea, it just felt like you were barely surviving to try to raise a child.

Anakin smiles when he realizes he made you flustered. "Good thing it was only a dream?"

You let out a breathless laugh, somehow relieved that Anakin was not seriously considering it.

"Yes," You weren't ready. You may never find it in yourself to ever be ready.

"We're not bringing a child now, not like this"

Anakin's expression melts, "Yes, the empire is growing stronger" His guilt resurfaces.

"I never imagined it to be like this for us," He thinks out loud,

"We have to make the best of what we have" You sigh.

"I've been thinking" Anakin begins, "maybe, there is still something that can be done"

You try steadying your breath, somehow bracing yourself for this moment; when he'll want to fight again.

It was everything he was made for. You knew that, you just didn't think it'd be in under a short period.

Something was screaming inside you. A fear, that you thought had gone when you ran away with Anakin. It was telling you that you were going to lose him. And you, selfishly, want to stop him. He can't... if he goes, he'll die. And you can't even begin to imagine what'll happen to you if he dies.

"How?" You asked despite yourself.

"Ahsoka mentioned something about a rebellion," He says, voice thick with something he hasn't had before. Hope.

"The galaxy needs changing" He steps forward.

You shook your head, overcome by the anxiety of it. "Anakin, I'm never going back"

He turns on his heel, eyes narrowed at your proclamation. "I didn't ask you to come back"

You tilt your head, "Of course, you weren't" Though you knew you were being unfair, just the idea of it was sending stress already.

Anakin's eyebrows knit. "I'm only thinking out loud, it's one thing to consider it but another to act on it" He defends.

Though, you know this is where it begins. And you were responding defensively because you knew where it would lead.

Anakin will forever feel as though he has to restore the galaxy to how it was before he helped destroyed it. It won't be long until he'd despise himself for choosing to stay here with you. Especially since it's been drilled into him that he's supposed to be the one to bring balance to the force.

Whether he loves you or lives in a divided ceaseless revolt against it, what he chooses to love is your fate.

His purpose or you.

Going would give him his closure.

Going would anchor you to the hells of your biggest fear.

"Anakin, please don't go where I can't follow" Your voice broke, begging. It was selfish to want to keep him for the second time.

And you weren't sure whether your love would be enough for Anakin to stay.

Not when it only brought him here, a home by the lake, forever standing on thin ice that always threatened to break under.

You were living under the false pretense of security. All of this, the house, the lake, the isolation, are reminders that you and Anakin will never go back to normalcy, no matter how much you pretend.

A knife may dull, but its purpose remains to cut.

Anakin's expression softens and he presses his lips on the temples of your forehead.

You were slowly understanding that the entire galaxy's fate was carried inside Anakin Skywalker.

The chosen one.

Every decision he made was informed by that pressure. No matter how personal, it always builds to a path that he can't control, because it's already laid out for him.

Created by the force, to be used by the force.

So you can't find the heart to be angry when he left.

You decided it would be hopeless to try to stop him. Anakin has this view that everything in his life, he has to work to earn. To deserve.

Even this... freedom that you have.

He has to contribute to it, in this perverse grandiose action as to fight the Empire. So he can accept that you do indeed love him.

He has to seize this opportunity with Ahsoka. He is more autonomous of his power now. He is once again engaging in something that's risking his life. He can fulfill his destiny.

It didn't make it any less painful.

You had to inspire confidence in him, otherwise, he'd doubt. So, you pushed all your feelings away and smiled when you kissed him goodbye.

You never left the war. The two years you stole were only stalling the inevitable. Perhaps, two years was too generous.

"Bring him back, please" You took Ahsoka aside. Ahsoka nods uncommitedly. For, she won't promise what she can't deliver.

And once again, you have found yourself alone.

He swore he'd have done anything for you.

Just not this one.

His belief that he has no inherent right to life; and has to work to earn anything made you feel as though you were his... prize. A trophy. In which he'd fight for to retain but not value enough to take care of.

He should've stayed. It's good he left.

Because now that you have nothing, you're finally able to detangle how Anakin doesn't love you. Not in the way you thought. Anakin loves that he has you.

You have always put his wellness first, that now, when you are not so worried by walking carefully around his hurt, you are able to feel yours.

Perhaps, losing Anakin was good. You can finally put yourself first. Whilst he still seeks answers in the past

There is no going back to the way it was. You tried living 'normally' and it just became a bitter reminder that you are forever changed.

Acceptance of that and lending yourself a little more compassion might just be the beginning of your healing.

footnote

i'm obsessed with the writing style where authors strikes through the text ! it's such a smart way to imply that the character that's narrating is choosing not to allow those thoughts and so it looks like it's been scribbled out .

also, quoting ka applegate on relationships not lasting outside the war :

"wars don't end happily. not ever. often relationships that were central during war, dissolve during peace. some people who were brave and fearless in a war are unable to handle peace, feel disconnected and confused. "

#anakin skywalker #anakin (ciella's ver)#star wars #sw #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars anakin #anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker fic #fanfic #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x female reader

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chick-with-wifi · 9 months

Text

Meta: Root's message for Shaw

In 4x05, Root says, "if the worst comes to pass, if you could give Shaw a message?" when she believes she will die in the fight against Martine. Although we don't hear the exact wording of this message, the context and Finch's reply of "I think she already knows", tell us it is a declaration of love.

Then in 5x13 when the Machine is fading, She tells Shaw, "There's something I think Root had wanted to say to you. You always thought there was something wrong with you because you don't feel things the way other people do. But she always felt that was what made you beautiful. She wanted you to know that if you were a shape, you were a straight line. An arrow."

During their time together, Root's flirting consists of exaggerated innuendo to push Shaw's buttons ("I'll do yours if you do mine" in 3x23, "I love it when you play doctor" in 3x17), and in return Shaw pushes Root's buttons by aggressively pretending she doesn't care about Root ("I missed you like I'd miss an intestinal parasite" in 3x20, "I wouldn't want anything to happen…to the dog" in 4x10). Root never disrupts the delicate balance of this dance, never asks Shaw for more than she's willing to give or demands any confirmation of her feelings, beyond light teasing such as "and is that why you came to see me?" in 4x07.

But in the event of her death, she wants Shaw to know the true extent of her feelings. Given that she always intended it to be this way, this means the message isn't for her benefit - it's for Shaw's. She wants Shaw to know beyond a shadow of doubt that Root loved and understood her for exactly who she is, and has no expectations for what her grieving process should look like. She doesn't want Shaw to ever feel like she isn't enough.

A variation of this also appears in 4x11. In one of the Machine's simulations, Root calls Shaw while knowing she doesn't have long left and it is the only time we see her push for any sort of confirmation about their relationship. She says, "Why are you so afraid to talk about your feelings? [...] We're perfect for each other. You're gonna figure that out someday." and is elated with Shaw's reply that "maybe someday [...] we can talk about it."

Since the Machine is able to accurately predict Her assets and knows Root's final request well enough to carry it out in 5x13, She knows this is the one situation where Root would push the issue enough to make it clear that she loves Shaw and that she would be thrilled with any degree of confirmation Shaw chooses to give.

Their conversation in the real timeline begins in exactly the same way, with Root in a dire situation calling Shaw to say, "Hey, sweetie. You busy?". Shaw replies, "A little. Skip the verbal foreplay, Root. Why are you calling?" and Root says, "Can't a couple of gals take a little break from work to catch up?". However, at this point Shaw arrives in the stock exchange and the team's chance of survival increases considerably.

The rest of their conversation plays out similarly, but is toned down. Root says, "We're so good at this together. You're gonna realize that someday." Where the simulation began with Root asking a direct question about Shaw's feelings, this is an open statement that doesn't put any pressure on Shaw to respond.

Shaw replies, "Root, no offense. You're hot, you're good with a gun. Those are two qualities I greatly admire. But you and me together would be like a four-alarm fire in an oil refinery." Just like how Root in the simulation was happy with Shaw's response, she cheerily replies, "Sounds cozy." Since at this moment her life is no longer in immediate danger, she doesn't feel the need to say anything further.

#Poi #Person of interest #Root #Poi root #Sameen shaw #Root x shaw #Poi meta #Shoot meta #My meta

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notfinancialadvice · 1 year

Text

It's been awhile, but I have a new thought for folks starting out investing

This blog is called "not financial advice" so this is not financial advice. Nothing on this blog is.

And.

I am working on a large-scale D&D-style banking system for a private client (my job is weird). This is putting me in touch with a lot of people in very expensive suits and it I keep pinging them:

"Let's say someone has $100 to start investing, what should they do. Like, literally $100. With $0.00 added after."

I've cobbled together some thoughts (not advice don't sue me) and cut out the bullshit and sales pitches.

Start a high-yield savings account in an FDIC insured bank. As of this writing (April 27, 2023, United States-based), it'll be somewhere between 3.5 - 4.25% APY (annual percent yield -- i.e. interest)

Go with a bank that is FDIC insured. Banks pay for this, you do not. Here are smart people talking about what FDIC is.

The percentage difference listed above is 0.75%. Moving money is a bitch, is it worth chasing 0.75%? That depends on your situation, time, etc. Here are smart people who built a calculator to help you figure it out if it's worth it to you.

Touch it as little as possible.

Start a spreadsheet that tracks your finances.

In the cell that lists the amount of this balance, give it a name. Something fun, something that speaks to you. I did this as an experiment + to participate, mine is "Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund".

Write a prospectus (fancy word for "this is what the goal for this cash is to do").

Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund prospectus: Follow the path of high-yield savings rates at {bank}. Review quarterly if other banks have a substantially better rate (+1.5%).

The entire point is to break the idea of "them not me" and "today vs. someday" and "I cannot begin to build wealth vs. someone else can."

A $100 savings INVESTMENT IN A SAVINGS ACCOUNT with a rate of 3.5-4.25% will give you interest of $3.50-4.25 at the end of the first year, then continue on growing onwards.

That is your return.

Is it as high as investing in the market? No.

Is it safer? Holy fuck yes.

When you invest in stocks, bonds, etc. you are looking for a return. This is your return.

This is not a grindset mindset work 24/7 chunk of advice. This is not a reality-disillusionment "I am struggling I need to work harder."

You need to be knowledgable about how things can work for you so you can leverage what you have, where you are, when you have it, as you can.

A high-yield savings account is not going to make you rich.

It probably won't make a difference in an emergency.

It will absolutely make a difference in non-emergency times, over a period of time.

Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund Destroying Adventurers.

That last point is where I'm coming to.

If you don't have enough cash to invest and/or you're not comfortable investing, that's fine.

Give your savings account a name that speaks to you. This is your investment. Your savings account = your investment account.

There is no moral or ethical difference between "I have cash shoved into a savings account" and "I have cash shoved into the stock market."

The only difference is potential risk, growth, and fees (never pay for a savings account), liquidity ("how quickly can I convert this thing into cash to buy an apple at the grocery store, pay a bill, etc.").

Make money less scary via weird names and fun graphics.

Go to a piccrew site and make a catgirl with pink and blue hair.

Name your fund "Catgirlsnax Fundsies".

Make. Money. Management. Less. Scary. By. Taking. Control. Via your own. Desires. Goals. Weird quirks.

Here is to hoping these gifs are not from horrible shows I don't know anime I know money and business and monsters.

If they are then I apologize for it.

I've read the notes on my blog and a lot of you like anime. I'm hoping these resonate.

#money #money management #control your cash #protect your cash #protect your business

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unpretty · 1 year

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idk man. from 2008 to 2019 i was self-employed. i dropped out of high school in 2006 and then dropped out of college in 2010 and moved to a swamp to watch my great-grandma die because that was the only thing i could afford to do. then i went back to college and lived off student loans for a while. if i managed to scrape together $500 in a single month, that was a very good month. i applied for a gamestop credit card i shouldn't have qualified for and used it to buy taco bell gift cards for when i couldn't afford groceries, then paid a stupid amount of interest on the cost of my taco bell gift cards because i couldn't afford to pay off the balance.

during that period i bought over 2000 ebooks and 600 steam games. i like to believe that i'll read or play them someday. i probably won't, with most of them. but it was nice to have the option. i paid $10 a year for a domain name that did nothing but show a single image when you went there because i thought that was funny. i bought every sims expansion. i bought a ps4 and pretended i was in debt for a ps4 instead of taco bell gift cards and the sims. i barely ever played anything on the ps4, but it was nice to have the option.

when i got a part-time retail job in 2019 ($12 an hour! 20 hours a week!) i felt RICH. i was getting $200-$300 a week! that's so much fucking money! i was spending most of it on gas, and food that i could eat in a store break room without dying. but it was still so much money!! i paid off all my credit cards and then immediately ran them back up. i bought matching couches for me and my cat at tj maxx. i bought a ferris wheel for mini cupcakes. i bought cute dresses and shoes that i never had a chance to wear because the only time i went anywhere was to work, in my work uniform. i was 29 and that was the most money i had ever had in my life. now i'm 32 with a full-time office job and most of my money goes toward debt but the rest of it ends up being spent on dumb shit. every month i look at my budget and try to figure out where it all went wrong and every month the conclusion is, "spent too much money on dumb shit". you would think that i would try to stop doing that, and yet.

it's like. i was poor and now i'm lurking somewhere near the low end of middle class, and in both cases buying dumb shit was simultaneously proof that i would be rich if i could just stop buying dumb shit, and that i couldn't possibly understand true poverty if i was capable of buying dumb shit. i do not know how to explain to people that i will always waste more time and money than anyone ever should on dumb shit that i think is funny. there is nothing i want more than to spend my last dollar on a laugh and my last minute laughing, and no one's insistence that they would use them better will change this.

#original #my worst habit from poverty is the superstition that #money needs to be spent immediately #because saving money invites money-costing trouble #if i have zero dollars and my car breaks down i will somehow some way pull enough money out of thin air to make it work #but if i manage to save up $500 then my car will immediately break down in a way that costs $600 to fix #poverty also brings the understanding that the charitable will pay for dinner but not dessert #metaphorically speaking #there are programs to get help paying for food and rent and utility bills #there are not programs to pay for video games #but the programs to help pay for necessities will demand to look at your bank account as proof you have no money #and will not accept 'that is my birthday money for a video game' as an explanation #so you get this bad habit of just #spending any money you happen to get free and clear #if the Helping Poor People Program sees you have $200 saved up they will demand you spend that first #if you spend the $200 on video games and comic books you will not have this problem #all of my worst habits as a Bad Poor came from restrictions put on assistance lmao

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comicaurora · 1 year

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Following off the last ask, do you have any advice on how to write a hard magic system? Since it usually has to be cohesive and fit together, how do you start?

First principles. Establish a set of unyielding axioms of How Magic Works and then start asking yourself what the consequences of those axioms are. It's very math-y to me - I think of it the same way as, for instance, defining a group as a set of values and an operation that combines elements of that set according to a specifically defined rule. Like how the integers can be built from the unit value 1, the addition operation + and its inverse. You can proof-by-induction your way through generating every integer from just those first principles, and everything that exists in the integer group follows from those facts. Extrapolating logically from established axioms is how a huge amount of algebraic shenanigans happen. Anyway, math is not necessary for this, but if you happen to be mathematically-minded, this approach of worldbuilding will feel extremely natural.

In ATLA, those first principles are:

There are four elements.

There are people who can "bend" one of those elements, giving them control over it that can be improved through training.

There is an Avatar, who can bend all four elements and is reborn when they die. The Avatar is a fixed point in the world and exists to maintain balance. The Avatar is also uniquely capable of interacting with a "spirit world" that almost nobody else ever directly deals with.

Everything in the magic system extrapolates from one or more of these axioms. What is lightning? Well, axiom 1 says there are 4 elements, so lightning is one of them, making it easiest to see as a form of fire, so we'll say some firebenders can use it. Can we do healing magic? Well, axiom 1 says there are only 4 elements, so the body must be composed of them, so it makes sense someone could manipulate them - and the body is mostly water, so we can suggest that waterbending would allow for healing. Can anyone bend more than one element? Nope, rule 3 says only the avatar can do that. Hey wait, if the human body is mostly water, can a waterbender puppet them? …Huh. Yeah. Well shit. Can anyone control metal? Well, metal is a form of earth, but it's a very pure one, so maybe earthbenders have a lot of trouble with it and it's used to make prisons and stuff, but maybe somebody could figure out a trick to it someday.

In Fullmetal Alchemist, there is only one principle:

Equivalent exchange. To gain something, something of equal value must be lost.

Can an alchemist make gold? Sure, if they have an equivalent amount of some other metal. But they're not supposed to, because it devalues local currency. Can an alchemist make a wall get spiky or turn it into a door? Sure, they're just turning an equal amount of one material into a different shape. Can an alchemist fix a broken device? Sure, if they know what parts of it need to be reshaped or transmuted. Can an alchemist create something from nothing? NO. Something of equal value must be transmuted. If it looks like an alchemist is creating something from nothing, they're draing the power/energy/value from something obscure. Can a philosopher's stone break the law of equivalent exchange? NO. It's providing power/energy/value from the human souls it contains, making it LOOK like the user can break the rules. Can an alchemist bring someone back from the dead? NO. What could equal the value of a human soul? Asking the question gets the attention of The Truth, a godlike entity that seems to exist in the balance of the law of Equivalent Exchange, who isn't exactly pleased when people fuck with it and tends to take its equivalent price out of the alchemist's body. Everything begins and ends with the single axiom.

I tried to build the elemental magic system for Aurora the same way, with only a few key principles:

There are six base elements in the world. They used to be six living primordial beings, one composed of each element. They are now each separated into a physical element and an ambient elemental energy that used to form its soul.

Some people have the latent ability to channel one or more elemental energies into the corresponding element(s), giving them command over them.

Each element has a physical property and a "higher property" that represents something about who the elemental primordial was when they were alive, giving mages abilities beyond just hucking rocks and fireballs at each other.

There is Soul Energy, which is omnipresent and forms structures in living things, does not belong to any primordial and can be used to impede elemental magic's effectiveness.

This is a bit of a mouthful for starting principles compared to how streamlined those other two examples were, but it gave me a lot of little details to work with. Can a mage manipulate someone else's body? Not if there's a soul in the way, because rule 4 says that structured soul energy can impede elemental magic, because otherwise it'd be way too easy to kill people and I want there to be cool fight scenes. Can a fire mage throw a super cool fireball at someone? Yes, as long as they have access to fire energy to channel according to rule 2. Can a fire mage channel fire energy into something else, like stone? Not really, because fire energy doesn't belong to the same primordial as physical stone, so they don't mesh according to rule 2. Can I have magic long-distance communication? Yes, because wind involves sound and has the "higher property" of communication, making it usable for sending magical messages according to rule 3. How do I account for weird materials that don't seem to cleanly fit into any of the six base categories? Since according to rule 1 there are six base elements, the things that don't seem to fit those categories must still be accounted for, so the answer we can construct is that most of them are "fused materials" that combine physicality and properties of two or more elements. Can anyone control all six elements? Yes, but let's say it's a rare thing, because those people would be very powerful. Hey, since Life's higher property by rule 3 is "survival and adaptation," is she actually really dead like the others? Huh. Kinda seems like she should be broadly unkillable in a way that matters, so I guess not - it'd be possible for someone to wake her back up. What would that do? Well, according to rule 1, Life is one of the six fundamental building blocks of the world, and according to our "fused materials" corollary, her material is woven into absolutely everything alive. So, waking her up and giving her command over her body again would be…… apocalyptically, catastrophically bad. Oh, but rule 4 says soul energy would help mitigate that a little bit! Enough to stop it from being a problem? No, definitely not, because life magic can be used to brute force mutation because I wanted to worldbuild cool mutant monsters. So that WOULD be bad. Okay, cool. Hey, are there other primordials? There's no reason why there couldn't be, since all these rules cover are the specific arrangement these six guys are in, and they must've come from SOMEWHERE, so yea, sure, there are other primordials. What kinds? Well, [SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS-]

Hard magic systems are great if you like starting from a very simple set of axioms and then just combining them in different ways to see what you can get. This is half the fun of worldbuilding - "what consequences arise from established premises 1 through n" - but it can also be difficult to get the sort of world you want out of a hard magic system, since first principles can extrapolate in unexpected directions. I had to work out the soul energy system because I didn't want it to be ludicrously easy for any mage to just boil someone from the inside out, because that is not the kind of world I wanted to make to play around in, even though it would've been easy to get that from "everyone is made of materials that can be magically manipulated." I worked out higher properties of the primordials because I wanted to have mages that could do weirder, more fun stuff than just slinging fireballs and mudslides at each other. Pure worldbuilding might involve starting from first principles and just seeing where the logic takes you, but I find it's helpful to have at least a few soft aesthetic concepts you want to build towards, and maybe massaging the rules a little until they produce the outcome you're set on seeing.

You can also have more than one magic system in a given world - that's what I did, technically speaking, and it's also what shows like The Owl House have. Owl House really makes it clear when a magic system has specific rules (Luz's runes combining in ways witches aren't sure how to do, but not working outside the Boiling Isles) and when it's a little more fluid and wacky (bard magic, wild witch magic, unique powers like Gus's eye and Hunter's teleportation, Eda's curse), and each individual magic system internally holds together, which is really all that matters for audience immersion.

#asks #aurora #writing stuff

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mauesartetc · 11 months

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While we're waiting for Millie's shine in later episodes, how would you develop Millie and how would you write her?

PFFF uhh I expect we'll be waiting indefinitely tbh. But I guess the first step would be to ask a lot of questions and figure out which pieces are missing from the puzzle. Here's a list of what's on my mind about Millie, in no particular order:

In "The Harvest Moon Festival", she hugged her dad upon seeing him, but not her mom. Was she closer to her dad growing up? Why?

What first attracted her to knives and axes, and who taught her to use them as weapons?

What was her favorite job on the farm growing up?

Who was her first love?

How did she meet Blitzo and Moxxie?

What occupations did she have before joining IMP?

Does she ever hang out with anyone other than her coworkers and her husband? What are her friends like? How did they meet?

Does she want to have kids someday?

What's her educational background? If she went to college, which subject/s did she major in?

What hobbies does she have outside of killing people?

Millie's aggressive, violent side is emblematic of Wrath ring culture, but does she have any traits that clash with it?

What's her favorite location in all of Hell, and why?

Standard job interview fare: Where does she see herself in five years?

Why doesn't she ever stand up to Blitzo when he berates her husband? (I mean, in a meta sense, we know why, but what's the reason inside the narrative?)

What does her extended family look like? Do they all live in Wrath, or are they spread out across other rings?

What does she love most about Moxxie?

What did she and Moxxie do on their first date?

What's her most prized possession?

Most of these questions are fairly surface-level, like the kind of thing you'd ask someone you just met at a party. But the thing is, we've barely been introduced to Millie through this entire series. It'd help if she spent an episode or two away from Moxxie so we can see her personality as an individual rather than part of a set. These writers seem to think true love = being attached at the hip, but that's not how strong relationships work. You need a balance of the partners spending time together and having time to themselves. If a relationship leaves no room for independence, it'll get stifling pretty damn quick.

Maybe at some point, Millie gets burnt out from work and decides she needs a solo vacation for her mental health. This would separate her from Moxxie and provide an opportunity to glimpse parts of her life that don't revolve around him and IMP, as well as delve into the fractured mental state of a character who's usually a pillar of strength. To co-opt and rephrase a meme real quick: Everyone asks "What can Millie do for me?", not "How is Millie doing?"

Ideally, the whole episode would focus on her, with no B- or C-plots. She could meet her friends for coffee, or maybe visit extended family members. Perhaps learn some things about herself she never knew before. This all sounds very low-key and lacking in spectacle for this show, but any plot can crackle with deft storytelling. It'd be preferable if the episode answered multiple questions (not too many, but multiple) about the character at its center.

But when all's said and done, it seems the most important question is: What does this character currently struggle with the most? What do they want, and what's preventing them from getting it?

One major problem Millie and the other IMP employees have is that they don't seem to want anything. There's not much driving their actions.

Blitzo presumably wants his business to succeed, but what does that look like to him? What specific goal is he trying to reach? The Goetia family has a bit more direction: Stolas wants a deeper emotional connection with Blitzo (God only knows why, but that's what's presented to us), Octavia obviously wants her parents to stop fighting (though we have no idea how she plans to achieve this), and Stella wants Stolas dead (though she didn't think the consequences through, somehow) but everyone else is a big ol' question mark.

Anyway, that's just a basic overview of how I'd approach it.

#helluva boss #helluva millie #helluva critical #writing #character development #ask #blacklilly27

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moderndaypandora · 1 year

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Got tagged by @notallsandmen for a WIP paragraph game, and I’m incredibly flattered, considering ... this doesn’t feel on the level of fic, this is fun little sketches of dialogue at most. But this is what I had, so here’s more of the mortal dreamling silliness (previous bits: modern day mortal dreamling and newlyweds with ravens)

How Hob asked Johanna to be his witness for his wedding:

He texted her asking if she was free that afternoon, because he needed her for something. Historically "something" has meant anything from "taste-testing 3 different scone recipe variations to figure out the best one" to "hustling drunk pricks at darts". Likewise, Hob has done her favors ranging from picking up tampons to providing an alibi. In theory there is a ledger of favors owed, but in reality there will never be a balancing of books (because they're best friends, even if Johanna is too prickly to admit it and Hob is too smart to).

Johanna texted back "yeah, what's up?", and practically broke a land speed record pressing "Call" when she got the response.

Johanna: what the fuck kind of text exchange is confirming I'm around and then sending "getting married today, hello, witness!" and a selfie of you and some goth twink?

Hob: it felt pretty self-explanatory

Johanna: last I'd checked, you weren't even seeing anybody!

Hob: things change?

Johanna: I got dinner with you 5 weeks ago, you bastard, and you were single then.

Hob: ... things change fast?

Johanna: how the fuck did you even meet him?

Hob: I was running back from class during that awful rainstorm last month, and he was just outside my tube station.

Johanna: Hob.

Hob: His umbrella'd broken and he was soaking wet, and he looked absolutely miserable, poor darling.

Johanna: ...

Hob: So I offered him towels and dry clothes, since my flat was just up the road. And by the time the rain stopped I knew I wanted to marry him, and he said yes.

Johanna: what lunatic just follows strange men home?

Hob: he was pretty suspicious until I gave him my phone so he could text my address to his sister.

Johanna: and she was somehow fine with it, like 'yeah, go on'? 

Hob:

Hob: he got a bit distracted by my phone background and never actually texted her.

Johanna: the fuck

Hob: you know Julian of Norwich is gorgeous

Johanna: your cat is a lesser demon escaped from hell. I'm going to exorcise your cat someday

Hob: Jules is a sweetheart. She doesn't even hunt birds!

Johanna: That thing won't kill any of the bloody birds in your neighborhood because she's saving all her energy to someday murder me and you know it.

Hob: ... undeserved paranoia about my extremely photogenic cat aside --

Johanna: WELL-deserved!

Hob: --will you be my witness?

Johanna: Left it a bit late, if you're asking me today. Did everybody else say no?

Hob: Didn't ask anybody else. Been planning to ask you since Dream said yes, but I figured if I gave you too much notice you'd flee the country.

Johanna: [tearing up, because even if you're an independent badass, it's nice to hear you're somebody's person] you're fucking right I would.

(Johanna's custom ringtone on Hob's phone is from Sweeney Todd, the final verse in Johanna where you can hear the body drop ("Wake up, Johanna, another bright red day"), because Hob and Johanna are black-hearted bastards/absolutely in cahoots with each other and think it’s funny. Hob's ringtone is Being Alive from Company ("Somebody need me too much..."). Sondheim all the way, motherfuckers)

#dreamling #hob is a medievalist and he would name his cat after an anchoress #i don't make the rules except when i do #johanna: wtf do i even wear to be a witness #hob: idk nothing obviously bloody or stained?#johanna: mm. what are you wearing?#hob: khakis and a button up #johanna: not the high-waisted ones right?#hob: there is nothing wrong with them #johanna: you're going to look like the slutty professor wannabe you are #johanna: and i bet you're going to roll your sleeves up #hob mid-sleeve roll: can't i look nice for my future husband?#johanna: yeah nice. not Mr April from an Academia Gone Wild calendar #hob: ... how am i supposed to take that #johanna: as a suggestion to look like a respectable spousal candidate #hob: we got engaged on less than 24 hours' acquaintance #hob: there is no chance of respectability #johanna: jesus fucking christ #johanna: you're paying for all my drinks at the reception #hob: by reception do you mean at the pub afterwards #johanna: clearly you prick. and it's going to be decent liquor. none of that bottom shelf swill #hob: we are celebrating my marriage afterall #johanna: [groaning] text me the address and don't give me any shit when i show up with a flask #johanna: you absolute bastard #hob: <3 #dream is 'sir not appearing in this sketch' because he had to go back to his flat and get his own appropriate clothing #and also provide proof of life and zero mental impairment to death #because she was still hoping it was a joke/she could talk him around to waiting longer

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justasussybitch · 1 month

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Picturing LFL au where Luke did manage to escape with Shiera that day. Imagining Luke offering to inter Aemond on driftmark rather then have him killed.

Everyone thinking it’s some weird guilt thing or a devotion to the seven he must’ve found in captivity (obviously no one knows the extent and assumes most rumours spread by mushroom are obviously false (side note George making the drunken lecher having more truths versus the oh so pious Septon Eustace is something I can 100% see)).

Luke just enjoys having the say of whatever Aemond eats or wears. The fact that he’s the only person who can decide if the terror of the riverlands lives or dies is something he probably thinks of whenever he’s having some trouble with sexual intimacy ( though no one would know about the extent to his occasional internal struggles with his past not even Rhaena). anytime he remembers his abuse that’s only been shared with (maybe Rhaena??) ,Jace or Daemon (who would have a bit more of an idea of war time practices in Westeros) he remembers that he has Aemond in his hands not the other way around.

Balancing never seeming weak again and being this loving brother/son/heir that once came so easy to him. Then him and Rhaena having her six daughters like canon (for Rhaena) and him making the eldest heir like he fought for but always in the back of his mind that men are not safe from other men in war time but especially not women. Just whole other bucket of trauma for him to deal with. Especially after he started praying to primarily female deity figures during his own s/a and captivity.

Probably spoilers if anyone has ever read my own fic but I quite enjoy Luke claiming Cannibal trope (now a trope, at the time I started publishing my fic in October 2022 there was crumbs to eat but thankfully we’re feasting now as lucemonders!!). Arrax being this pearlescent dragon who was swift and growing every year symbolising Luke himself growing from this unsure boy into someday maybe someone more sure of himself then claiming cannibal a dragon rumoured to be strange enough to devour its own kind, pitch black and monsterously older than the Iron throne itself. Just a very silly and lazy way for me to bring this visual of loss of innocence tho I defend myself in my mind that GRRM probs wanted Arrax to evoke that when he made him Pearl white with golden chest to die when he was 13 along with Luke.

Not even getting into the fun interactions with Aemond. Maybe Luke is still keeping this love act up for some fucked reason in his head and has Aemond convinced he’s alive out of love. Or if history changes yet again and Aemond has the injuries of Rooks Rest instead of Aegon (like the rumours his dick broke) after the war kicks off later, how Luke would manipulate his way into topping him (the thing he’ll think will “cure him” of his nightmares and traumas. Not how that works bookie but I understand even being raised by a polycule in this time would not save him from the patriarchys nonsense lol)

Even better him visiting winterfell with Jace and stumbling upon his brother and Cregan and watching their interactions (Cregans fucking Jace’s “cunt” and still sees him as a man??? Talks about loving Jace’s cock despite being the “man” in their relationship) just completely breaking apart his ideas of what he’s internalised m/m relationships being.

I wouldn’t change a thing of LFLEFE of course, it’s perfection. it’s always fun to read someone’s work and wonder of the “what ifs” (which is what I do between chapters of fanfiction too as you’ve seen from my delirious asks before lol) and how the characters would shift and change when the butterflies wings change to a different direction.

At that point in the story Aemond has already planted this cruelty in Luke (not in general, we see him freely empathise with people even when not knowing them like the servants entering the chambers after shieras death) that Luke has to foster against Aemond in his mind to survive the ordeal. It’s a coping mechanism for him that allows him to continue the charade. The satisfaction of tricking Aemond is probably what kept him alive through much of the uncertainty.

A scene of the new show Mary & George where the main character who usually tops bottoming with his enemy after (falsely) professing love just to fuck with his mind and get one final “I’m the one who won here. Go fuck yourself” literally gave me this vibe and I don’t know where it could possible fit in this “au” lol. Luke taking back his own asshole in a way idk that’s so silly hahah

Luke taking his own feelings of self loathing and low self esteem and sharpening them into a weapon to use against Aemond? Art, chefs kiss!

Sorry this got so long I was inbetween tasks and kept forgetting how long it was 🤣

some very mild spoilers for the themes/arcs i have planned for the series

a friend had already recommended Mary & George to me, but this definitely confirms i need to watch it also, 100% get it. i constantly have to restrain myself from writing canon divergence fic of my canon divergence fic. to the point that, if i do manage to finish the series in a reasonable time frame, i may very well cave and do just that. (personally, i like to think that if Shiera lived, she would have become a sailor). tbh if anyone, for whatever reason, wrote a 'what if' fic based on any fic of mine... well, i think that's kind of the highest honour a fic writer could receive, isn't it? so it's a practice i fully endorse.

westerosi gender is 100% something i want to explore/am exploring in this series. especially in relation to sexual violence being so gendered in the setting, to the point that being raped is almost feminising in the eyes of many of the characters. lfleye!Luke 100% identifies as and will continue to identify as a man in the series. but his experiences now means he identifies *with* women far more. as you've noted, Luke is a very empathetic character. while not many characters will acknowledge it in-universe, Luke is extremely strong as a character, and thats proven with how his experiences have increased his empathy rather than diminished it. it's so tempting to be 'strong' after being 'weak' by inflicting abuse on others and exploiting whatever societal power you have, especially in a setting like Westeros. but a really big part of Luke's arc is going to be to a refusal to do that, and to continue to identify with the abused (women, lowborn, etc). (some of my interest in Theon as a character actually comes from a similar place)

this is a roundabout way to say that, yes, if he had six daughters he would be Stressed. but those six daughters would be very, very lucky.

at the same time. lucemond in this series is Toxic. with a capital T. and i'm not going to let Aemond have all the fun with that. if Luke ended up in the role of captor, it would be delicious. because he would 100% find comfort and satisfaction in asserting control over Aemond, even as he felt shame for it. or, alternatively, felt shame for *not* feeling shame for it.

and oh. oh boy. Luke being confronted with an actual heathy (for hotd) m/m relationship, not just in the abstract of Laenor but in the this-is-happening-right-now-in-front-of-me of his brother, would also be an experience for him. probably one he needs. in general, Luke is definitely going to try and get a better understanding of sexuality, and his sexuality specifically, in the next fic. whether he succeeds...

and Cannibal!!!! gods, i adore Cannibal. i do remember him being kind of unpopular, at least among some of the more active fan creators, but i saw this analysis about how he represents the dance--black scales, green eyes, eats his own kind, disappears at the end--and i've been obsessed ever since. he's definitely going to make an appearance so he can bring that symbolism (amongst others) to the table, whether Luke claims him or not. (i decided in 2022 whether Luke was going to claim a second dragon or not, and if yes then who, and while it is foreshadowed in the fic, and in some of the comments, i'll at least pretend i'm maintaining the mystery). what's the name of your fic? bc i would love to read some Luke & Cannibal.

#asks #tft #lflefe #efelfl

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