#THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS STORY. AND ALL THE DIFFERENT ASPECTS OF IT

[ruvviks]

ok but. u gotta give us some Opportunity lore. that place sounds soooo cool

HEHE IT IS VERY COOL!! there is so much to say about that place so i'll try my bestest to keep it brief

opportunity is basically a huge megalopolis on the east coast of the united states, stretching across two states from around atlanta to the coastline. it's a very impressive project since there's no ghouls inside the safezone at all which is insane because in the surrounding areas there ARE many many ghouls!! so they fought off all of that while still building the walls + defenses surrounding the zone WHILE also keeping everyone inside safe. this is why it's such a popular place and basically one of the most important places in the world, because it shows progress and is a symbol of hope

the outer walls of the city are of course defensive but at the same time they're like. facilities. if that makes sense. you can go inside the wall. it's a building. but also a wall!! the ground floors are mostly these huge hangars where vehicles and whatnot are stored with large hangar doors that open up into the city as well as into the wasteland (never at the same time for. obvious reasons), and the many levels above ground floor are for a variety of things; there's offices in there, laboratories, dormitories for opportunity's own specialized armed forces (squads of trained people who go out into the wasteland for various tasks such as clearing out troublesome locations where ghouls are holed up, helping survivors, and getting supply drops), armories, etc etc

opportunity is the only safezone in the united states where the united states military is not active at all, it has its own armed forces to protect itself with :^) other than that it does have a lot of matrix activity (mostly just matrix scientists in the research labs of course where they're trying to look for a cure / vaccine, but matrix also has their own armed forces called matrix agents which are active there too)

since the wall stretches on for MILES it's divided into sections which are all managed separately, so they all have their own control center and own armories and labs and whatnot to make it easier to oversee rather than have the whole entire wall managed from one place only. the different control centers communicate with each other of course but especially in the labs they try to focus on different research, to cover a LOT more ground while also updating each other on their findings to hopefully get to a cure / vaccine faster. but somehow they're still not getting any closer despite all their efforts... INTERESTING...

as for life inside the megalopolis, it's divided into cities within the place so there's also a lot of empty space between those which is managed by rangers basically LMAO, and within the cities there's neighborhood clusters which all consist of a main street with all the important stuff (community center, religious places, grocery store, schools, etc) and houses surrounding that street. there's one huge shelter for each cluster which makes it easier to deal with breaches in the wall because it's a lot easier to get people to safety that way and deal with the ghouls in the meantime :^) the design of the clusters also makes it easier to just. in general predict where people are gonna be moving in case of a breach or outbreak which also makes it easier to prepare for situations like that to begin with, which is why opportunity is such a success

opportunity is the main location for the first act of the story and it's super fun to play around with :^) but then there's a huge breach. and ghouls get inside. on a scale NEVER seen before. which makes you think. is it really a breach... or did someone do this on purpose... INTERESTING...

[alphajocklover]

InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

[robolvrr]

I loved your swerve x gn human bartender headcanons. Do you have any more headcanons for swerve x gn human if you do please share them ❤️

two bolts in a pod! ᴗ｡✷

swerve x gn! human reader headcanons.

thank you anon! enjoy.☆

"i.. you actually like listening to me talk?"

"... hey ratchet, check this one's processor! think they mighta hit it or somethin'..."

on the note of a human crew member it's common consensus that swerve is part of the many that have an intense interest in you as a species.

however, if you do happen to enjoy his company and questions and puns -- consider him your personal jester.

he gets so, so dramatic whenever you aren't fused at the hip joint. suddenly his shifts feel long and he's lamenting to his other cybertronian crew members which while is endearing to some in the way any lovesick trainwreck is, is incredibly annoying for others.

has helped make a stool at his bar for you, sized to scale.

there's this funky little staircase at the end of the table to help you up (since he doesn't want you squished in between mechs) that doesn't match at ALL.

spends an embarrassing time cycling stories ready to tell when asked. he frequently bites his fist because he thinks it's going to be boring, but you're in awe because hello, this is space and there are giant metal hot aliens.

you try to teach him to dance once. minibots are stockier, so seeing you bend and twist is as enchanting as it is perplexing.

it ends with him almost slipping and crushing half the bar but hey! your little laughs and snorts are more than enough to stroke a bruised ego.

brags. so much. when you develop nicknames and inside jokes.

"did you know that they call me and only me hotshot? huh? did ya?"

it's easy to just. lie to him regarding questions on humans. he's no means gullible but imagine he asks a normal question like "why is it called a tailbone" when you have an anatomy rundown and you confidently say you actually have a long, fluffy tail that only comes out every blue moon.

cue him researching through his limited sources (cough cough movies) to see where he missed THAT detail.

speaking of movies: will make you watch his collection before asking for yours.

enjoys lots of 80s sci-fi and cheesy b-thrillers.

expect him to whisper in your ear as you sit on his knees like a cute, nervous directors reel.

tries to get you to match those colorful clothes with his plating paint.

wh - romantic? him? nooo, it's just a friendly thing? a total cybertronian thing. uh huh. yeah. unless you'll know - wait no, don't clarify with brainstorm-

falls helm over pedes when you start giving him stuff. old, vintage bobbleheads. records and sports vanity jerseys and engraved shot glasses.

the courting gestures between your kinds are so different and alike it makes his coolant heat. you could be just beaming because you've alphabetically and flavor organized his stock records and he's here wondering how to sparkbond with a human without killing 'em.

my personal headcanon - he sits you on his shoulder when he's going around passing drinks. think of those bodybuilders and pretty models on the beach photoshoots. primus, he's down bad!

i see you getting spoiled rotten in all aspects, platonic and otherwise. he loves, loves all your reactions and expressions. has to sit in his habsuite and think about some venting exercises so he isn't buzzing in your presence all the time.

[mad-hunts]

both matilda and barton were keenly aware that joker was watching them like a hawk. so, although she was tempted to pull away from him, his daughter decided she had just one more thing to do. matilda very subtly tilted her head in such a way that their 'unwelcome guest' wouldn't be able to tell that she was very quietly whispering to him; and at such an audio that even barton barely heard it, in fact. but the important thing was that he'd caught it for she had told him something in code that meant 'just say the word' in relation to joker. it didn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out that there wasn't something quite right with their new comedian friend, barton thought.

and how ironic that was for him to think, because unbeknowst to him, arthur was talking about how weird he was acting with what could potentially be one big thorn in his side: the batman. a sigh came from him as the only thing he could think about right now was that the unruly golden ringlets atop his head were going to get so poofy because of the rain. it only appeared to be getting worse and one way this was illustrated was by how the light teal of the also almost doll-like dress matilda wore was becoming a darker hue of teal, which was kind of bad news for her, as it wasn't a cheap dress. it was made out of satin. but between holding onto barton a little longer to maintain the façade that she was upset, or pulling away early and thus breaking the illusion, she chose the first option.

by this time, barton was fully hugging matilda back and looked down at the ground, trying to just listen to her to see if any of this distress could be genuine or whether it was all an act. he maneuvered a hand up to cradle her head then with a shocking amount of gentleness. barton didn't let his guard down, though, as the image of joker's service animal in the corner of his eye reminded him that he wanted something from them. he didn't know what, but if it wasn't obvious before, then it was now. ❝ hey... you're acting like something seriously bad happened, lovebug. you've got to tell me what's going on, ❞ matilda finally pulled away from barton and she covered up both sides of her face at first, before rubbing her hands down it.

matilda silently listened to joker for a moment. no one's threatened you... well, that was pretty untrue, actually. she had one hell of a shiner around her left eye. ❝ honestly, from my friends leaving me stranded in there and ending up with this from some jackass who wouldn't leave me alone, i guess you could just say that i'm... really glad to be out of there. i mean, i tried to leave as soon as you texted me earlier, but this guy stopped me on the way out. i think he must've been as drunk as a skunk or something because he accused me of stealing from him, which i obviously didn't do, ❞ barton knew that that whole story was probably a lie, but he did know that he wanted to kill whoever hit his daughter; no matter what circumstances they were under.

barton was basically seething with anger when he saw the bruise around matilda's eye. ❝ oh? so, you're telling me someone hit you, in there? what'd he look like? and before you say anything, i just want to talk to him, ❞ that was a lie if matilda had ever heard one. she chuckled in feigned surprise at that, raising both of her eyebrows at once. ❝ oh my god... dad. i took care of it, so you don't need to do anything. in fact, please don't. he can get really scary when he's mad, ❞ matilda directed this comment towards arthur before she finally noticed the small puncture wound on his palm. from there, she forcefully took his hand and she barely looked up at him to say, ❝ it seems like you have a big family. what's that like? is it as chaotic as it sounds, or it is nice? ❞ she offered him a small smile. ❝ eh, well, you know that saying ' packed like a can of sardines? ' it's pretty much like that. mm, the dancers up on stage tonight were good, i'll give them that. ❞

matilda was lying through her teeth about the dancers. but the less that arthur knew, the better. his daughter finally opened up the umbrella that had been loaned to her by barton and gestured towards the other to take it. ❝ your makeup's running, so you can go ahead and borrow this, if you want. as for the drops — sadly, yes. the drug problem here just keeps on getting worse and worse, ❞ barton ever-so-slightly squinted his eyes at joker as if he was trying to read him. he'd let his nails get out of control, that much was for certain, but he had been 'taking a break' from practicing for about a month now... which really only meant he wasn't seeing any patients outside of surgery. and when he did surgery, it was with precautions taken so that his nails wouldn't breach the gloves ( though usually they were shorter and less sharp. ) the thing about gotham metropolitan was that he'd actually worked there quite some years ago, and they did have strict policies about how long your nails could be. but now that he had his own clinic, he could set the hygiene standards for it.

that didn't mean that he wanted it's existence to be known to the public, though, as his main clientele was criminals. forging some documents to make it appear as if he was working at the hospital like he had years ago was his solution to this. and it always helped to have someone on the inside who could quote unquote ' make that official. ' a micro-expression of displeasure seemed to flash across barton's face for just a second as he made prolonged eye contact with him. all the while, matilda wrapped his hand with a roll of bandages she'd taken out of her purse.

the corner of his lips curled as if to say ' i may not even know you that well yet, but i already hate you. '

Joker expects a gruff burst in his ear once his focus settles on Dr. Mathis’ pocket. Matilda dropped something in there. What exactly, Joker can’t tell. Neither can the younger Wayne heir from their family’s defunct terminal. Squinting won’t help, but it does relieve his red-streaked eyes. How tree pollen has managed to swamp the city is beyond him.

Werewolf slips the cigarette from his mouth to cough into his elbow. He resists the urge to paw at his nose. MAC Chromacake pigments dry down matte, but mist already has begun beading on the surface. A pale blue streak trickles from Tragedy’s eye, down his cheek, and into the margins of his scarlet simper. It has no taste.

Blaring horns don’t distract him, though incoming footsteps while his back is partially turned compels Joker to glance over his shoulder. The line remains wrapped around Paradise’s facade and around the corner. Overcast keeps bruising the night sky.

Sokol side-guards Joker on the left. The black wolf-dog’s ghoulish eyes remain locked on the father-daughter duo before them. One of the doctor’s palms bleeds. Joker hones in on it while accounting for both sets of hands. Those hands could never touch a patient. Something isn’t right. A chill rolls the length of Joker’s spine. He rears his chin, tucks the damp cigarette to his lips so he can inhale as it’s dying, then force himself to breathe.

Without moonlight to transform under, the lycan is left to shift from sole to sole; dipping his shoulders and carrying his torso on that subtle current. Each time he blinks, Bruce loses focus. He has more than plentiful clear frames to screenshot and print, but it’s the jostling of the cameras that unnerve him most. 

“Stand your ground and stay in plain sight,” Bruce’s instruction is calm as, ‘MATHIS, MATILDA’ appears alongside the young woman’s perfect face. No place of employment listed, however. She’s in every way proportionate; a living doll. Scars from cosmetic procedures to achieve such a flawless veneer might dent her skin here and there, but Joker isn’t close enough to know for sure. Those low-resolution lenses certainly can't reveal if any cosmetic procedures have taken place. “No one’s threatened you,” his reminder’s gentle enough to soothe one of his little nieces, “No one’s gonna hurt you. Just hold steady.”

A gradual drop of Joker's left hand settles over the bracelet tucked under his cuff. Three quick taps onto the moon-shaped charm with his thumb are followed by three longer taps, then three short taps. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Again. The moon symbol lights up once. Joker covers it with his thumb, then allows his damp sleeve to fall back down and resumes smoking. The Chief’s Special carves his hip. Joker rakes his left hand-heel over the revolver’s snout and remains in position. 

“I’ve got three,” Joker speaks in reference to daughters, but scrunches his face and clarifies, “They’re all little, though. My oldest is five,” youngest has yet to be born, “And my son’s a baby.” His chin nudges toward the doors guarded by Dalí’s long lost twin, “How packed is it in there, Ma’am?” Joker asks Matilda, though his voice might be swallowed by the rain’s hiss. “My wife's on her way. We were just waiting on our sitter,” he’s doubtful Gary had evening plans, “She likes the cabaret.” 

“That was smooth,” though Bruce knows his older brother can’t comment aloud, Joker preens in a fashion that opens his chest up enough for the little brother to know he’s gloating. “Nothing about this guy’s behavior is right. Not hers either. I’m gonna look up his medical license and see if he’s really still in practice. It’s against board regulations to have nails like that. Unless Gotham Metropolitan’s nixed its scalpel budget…” Bruce thinks he’s funny. Joker’s stomach knots in a bow. For that, he paws at his eyeballs and rattles the image Bruce is seeing enough to intentionally trigger a migraine or motion sickness on the younger brother's end. “Do you think they retract like that X-Men villain?”

Joker would roll his eyes if only he could. Instead he puffs enough smoke for a veil to float over his eyes. The rain won’t let it last. Droplets thicken and fall like little guillotine blades. They cut past polyester and soak the satin sleeves of Joker’s dress shirt so they cling to his skin. His chest cinches, leading Joker to cough again and expel any smoke that might remain in his chest. Once more he checks both father and daughter’s hands, then winds Sokol’s light blue lead tighter around his own hand. 

“Are they still slinging Drops around like candy in there…?” Joker speaks to Matilda again, though Dr. Mathis hasn’t left his eyeshot, “Last time, we were practically stepping over bodies just to get to the bar.”

“Try to figure out what she does,” Bruce speaks in reference to Matilda, “I don’t have an employer for her…and she’s being just as weird as he is.” Before Joker interrupts him with some canned, ‘You can’t just tail people because they’re weird,’ Bruce stresses, “He practically admitted to killing that cop, then tripped over it once he knew he couldn’t take it back. Worst comes to worst, have Nix give him a shake-down and see what falls out of his pocket.” Joker slackens his jaw, but isn’t certain if his brother’s joking. “Maybe it is Drops.” Certainly wouldn’t be a body.

[terastalungrad]

I'm reading Life in Code by Ellen Ullman, writings on tech and philosophy.

I love the chapter "Is Sadie the Cat a Trick?", where Ullman talks of the 19 years she had with her cat Sadie, and - while reflecting on Artificially Intelligence - wonders whether the relationship between them was an illusion.

Was Sadie merely behaving according to her "programming"? Was Ullman merely imagining sentience?

Ullman considers various aspects of her relationship with Sadie. First, companionship. Second, familiarity:

[H]er coming to meet me at the door (even when her bowl was full, so it was not in the hope of getting dinner). There was mutual recognition of ritual: I knew the time of day when she moved to her favourite chair to take the sun, so I anticipated it and raised the shade. She knew I wrote in the morning, and, before I got to the desk, she was lying on her pillow by the heater, which had not yet been turned on. If it were just warmth she'd wanted, she could have stayed in bed with Elliot, who was living with me by then. Instead, she decided she would wait for me by a cold heater.

I love this paragraph very much. This reflection on the familiar behaviour of a pet, ostensibly to work out if there's a difference between a pet and sufficiently advanced AI. But also, it seems to me that this is an investigation into love itself.

Did Ullman's cat love her? Do any of our pets love us?

Instinctively, we think "yes". Ullman has applied a programmer's mind - and a philosopher's mind - to the question:

Companionship, familiarity, expectation, mutual recognition, bodily comfort: if this is not a definition of love between aging creatures, I don't know what is.

I'm away from home for a few days, with gigs in London and Birmingham. I always miss my wife when I'm away, and this essay hasn't helped at all thank you.

It makes me think of our own rituals. Sometimes - not often - I'm awake before Elanor. I know what time her alarm will go off, so I join her in bed a minute before, so she wakes up gently to a cuddle before the cold brutality of the alarm. When I'm working in the study, Elanor will sometimes open the door a crack, and wait to be invited in.

This is the difference between love and programming. Last time I was away, Elanor defrosted the freezer - an accomplishment of immense bravery and determination. She didn't tell me this, but when I came home she challenged me to work out what chore she'd done while I was away - knowing that, letting me discover this action by opening the freezer would be the best possible way for me to find out she'd done this.

How did Elanor know this? We've been together 20 years this month. Perhaps she reflected on the fact that I'm delighted by surprise, and by playfulness. Maybe she thought about the way I like stories - and that investigating the house, searching for new jobs completed, would give me the thrill of an adventure. It's possible she considered my love of novelty and shared experiences - and came up with this way of presenting her accomplishment according to these principles; these techniques for controlling the reveal.

All of this *could* be true. That Elanor consciously processed, analysed the data. Her understanding of me. Maybe, perhaps, possibly.

But I think she just knew.

Familiarity. Expectation. Recognition. Love between aging creatures!

People are so excited that generative AI can produce ugly pictures and bland copy. But I don't think it would curl up in front of a cold heater in an empty study.

Because any relationship with a program is an illusion. It isn't love. Because love isn't defrosting the freezer. Love is defrosting the freezer while your partner's away, anticipating their response, looking forward to their joy.

[kpop]

K-Pop Spotlight: DAY6

Come one, come all to a K-Pop Spotlight that is sure to dazzle and delight ’til the final curtain. This week, all eyes are on DAY6 following the release of their eighth mini-album, Fourever, and brand new title track, "Welcome to the Show." We caught up with the band to discuss their goals as they approach their 10th anniversary and their ever-growing connection to their fans through their music. Check out our full interview below!

Tracks like “Welcome to the Show,” “The Power of Love,” and “Get The Hell Out” seem to have very different themes. Can you tell us a little about how these songs relate to each other and what aspects make this album cohesive?

SUNGJIN: As we pursue the idea of being a 'band that sings every moment,' it seems like our albums, including the recent one, prioritize diversity in songs and situations rather than unity. Consequently, our albums contain various genres and narratives. However, there seems to be a commonality in most songs, depicting situations that everyone has either gone through or might experience.

Young K: First and foremost, I would say this album is a compilation of the best songs we could create. There's definitely a theme of love running through it. "Welcome to the Show," "The Power of Love," and "Get The Hell Out" all talk about the concept of love.

What goes into creating titles for DAY6 songs and albums, especially those that don’t come directly from your lyrics? Do you find it hard to condense the intentions and themes of a song into a title?

Young K: While there have been cases like that, all the songs on this album came from the lyrics. Sometimes, when choosing a title, we select the one that best describes the song—other times, we choose to give it a twist or make it more intriguing.

WONPIL: Naming songs involves a lot of deliberation. We often contemplate which title will catch the eye and capture the song's essence. Usually, we try to take it from a verse in the chorus. This can be a challenging part of the songwriting process.

Is there a creative project you’ve always wanted to work on but haven’t gotten the chance/found the time?

SUNGJIN: I'm very curious, and have a principle of "trying to experience as much as possible." There are so many things I want to try musically and personally, especially among the things I know but haven't tried yet.

DOWOON: I hope we can have a song that we can collaborate on with My Day, like a choir.

What does your work/studio setup look like? Where do you feel the most creatively inspired?

DOWOON: We try to keep the studio as tidy as possible and make it comfortable for practice sessions.

WONPIL: When working on songs, we talk a lot. We get inspiration from little conversations, joking around, sharing stories, and listening to music from various eras regardless of genre while giving opinions. We also try to build emotional connections with the songs. There’s a lot of communication going on. The songwriting process takes place in the studio of our long-time collaborator, composer Hong Jisang, with whom we've been working together since our debut.

How do you want to evolve as a musician/producer?

Young K: I want to be eagerly anticipated and awaited as an artist. Without those who wait for us, we wouldn't release or even step onto the stage. So I’m always thankful for My Day.

WONPIL: My biggest goal is to make good music for My Day and the public, so I think I'll continue to ponder. When working on songs, I pour my sincerity into them. I constantly strive to express this sincerity musically, fully capturing the emotions I want to convey. I hope to create songs that can still be listened to even after 10 or 20 years.

Design your own Tumblr blog: choose an aesthetic, a blog name, and would you be a frequent poster or lurker?

SUNGJIN: I think I’ll use it to catch up on friends' updates. For the blog name, THUMB BLUR sounds good to me. I might end up being a lurker who never posts.

DOWOON: Maybe a blog for plants? I think I'll post it like a diary.

Want more DAY6? Check out their new mini album Fourever and the music video for the title track “Welcome to the Show,” both out now!

[waywardstation]

The other day my thoughts went back to the "Train of Thoughts" AU we created here and how incredibly community driven everything was...

...and it got me thinking how this AU also could be something to be explored in the way your new reblog-story-game-thingy (do these have names btw?) go.

Like which memory-train to tackle next, banter and chatting with MG!Emmet along the way and intermissions with Ingo on the outside reacting when certain memories are unlocked. Also in General interactions with MG!Emmet and the Mind Station. There should be something of a disclaimer at first but I'd love to see a return of this AU as it is still a big favorite for me.

of course no rush on that. I just wanted to share this idea since it could be a fun thing to make at a later point and also would be on brand here since it is your (and our) potluck AU!

(I apologize that this took so long to respond to, I’ve tried to post it three times now but my internet is terrible right now and I’ve had to rewrite this every time!!)

OH I STILL LOVE TRAIN OF THOUGHT AU SO MUCH!! It was so fun getting to build that together with everyone else who brought so many cool ideas and expansions to it!!

SO THAT IS SUCH A COOL IDEA TO MAKE IT AN INTERACTIVE COMIC!!! I would have so much fun doing that and I think others would too! And it keeps the community-driven aspect of it too with letting people pick from options!

I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! It’s such a good idea just like everything else you always come up with, thank you for the suggestion friend!!! ^^

————

I understand that I have not talked about the Train of Thought AU in such a long time. I am sure there are a lot of people here now who don’t know what this AU is. So you are free to check out the respective tag for it, or read the summary below!

So, Train of Thought AU is basically an AU that takes Ingo’s amnesia and turns it into a purposely-caused safeguard to protect his mind from a mind parasite that could permanently destroy it.

So in this AU, Ingo fell to Hisui through one of Giratina’s wormholes. It was not smooth and things definitely clashed together. While going through, a part of Giratina’s essence meshed with him, becoming trapped in Ingo’s mindscape when he exited the other side of the wormhole and into Hisui.

This part of Giratina quickly developed into an entity. This part is not Giratina itself, but rather something that grew from Giratina’s characteristics. Named Remnant, this entity was mindless, did not act on a conscience, and much like a virus, has a one-track mind, one direction — to get out of this mindscape and into the real world, destroying everything on the way out if it has to.

And that is exactly what is began to do.

For reference, Ingo’s mindscape resembles Gear Station. There are many traincars inside that hold different memories, and many lines for these cars to operate on that are meant for different trains of thought. (There is a line for memories to influence dreams while he’s sleeping, there is a line for things that get stuck in his head and play over and over, like songs, there is a train yard where embarrassing memories are banished to, etc.)

Once Remnant had realized what was going on, it began destroying memory traincars in a fury to get out, damaging important memories.

In doing this, a system that was implemented realized something was inside the mindscape that was damaging it, and it made a heavy decision in the moment to protect it.

This system is referred to as a Mind Guardian. Mind Guardians are the mind’s security system basically, dedicated to protecting the mind. They manifest in the mindscape as the person the mind trusts the most — in Ingo’s case, it was Emmet.

MG Emmet made the decision to lock all the train cars (trapping Remnant inside one of them in the process) and send them all into a train yard meant for memories that should be forgotten. Emmet built a barricade by cramming so many cars together, keeping Remnant securely in a prison.

But by doing this, MG Emmet left Ingo with so little to remember, he fell into an amnesia. MG Emmet knew this would happen, and it would leave him with a severely disfunctional mindscape to oversee, but intact memories that were locked away were better than memories that were irreparably damaged.

But that meant that all of Ingo’s memories of Emmet were locked away as well. With Ingo’s consciousness unable to recall Emmet, MG Emmet lost practically everything that made him “Emmet.” Most of his appearance and speech patterns were lost to darkness, blurs, and static, and without a name to remember, he simply became the Conductor.

While Remnant was locked away, unable to escape the memory it was trapped in, there was one loophole where it could still roam the station. Whenever Ingo would fall asleep, many of the mindscape’s functions would pause or stop. Remnant could use its tendrils to wander the dark station, in search of anything it could get ahold of or take advantage of — one of those things being MG Emmet specifically.

Remnant knew MG was the one who trapped it, and all it sees MG Emmet as is an obstacle, an adversary keeping it stuck in this mindscape. It wants to hunt down and eliminate MG Emmet.

MG Emmet knows this, so whenever Ingo goes to sleep and the station goes dark, he knows he has to hide. Usually, he takes shelter in the memory car that contains Ingo’s recollection of Emmet’s joltik hoard. He finds comfort in it and it’s easy to hide under layers of joltiks.

And so, for Ingo’s entirety in Hisui, he was entirely unaware of all of this, assuming the amnesia was from a head injury or a rough trip through a rift (which, technically yes it is haha) and thought nothing of it.

However one day when Akari brings the Lake Guardians to Professor Laventon for help with further studies (and for him to get to admire them), Uxie senses Ingo, and that something is very wrong with his mind. It’s not empty, no. Rather, everything is still in there, it’s just inaccessible. Very strange!

Uxie decides, with everyone’s agreement and Ingo’s consent, to try entering his mindscape and trying to figure out what’s wrong. They attach themselves to Ingo to make a mental link, but within moments, the link is broken. Uxie tries again, only to be ejected again. Another try, another forceful rejection.

MG Emmet is the one kicking Uxie out of Ingo’s mind. He already had enough of a mess with Remnant, he is not going to let a second pokemon into the mindscape again.

So a solution comes down to Uxie connecting Akari and Irida’s minds to Ingo’s, and putting their consciousnesses into his mindscape — Ingo is most comfortable with both of them going in, as they’re the two people in Hisui who he knows and trusts best — Uxie sends them in, but has to stay connected to Ingo’s head the entire time so as not to break that connection.

(The sketches below were done before we got Ingo’s hairline reveal lol. I didn’t know what to work with so I just made something up. Also why Ingo looks so different here; I was still figuring out how I wanted to draw him.)

Akari and Irida are sent into the mindscape, and immediately begin running. MG Emmet reflexively goes to kick them out, but he has to catch them first to do so before they split up.

Initially, Akari and Irida have to be careful and keep avoiding MG Emmet, who is hunting them down every free moment he has. They almost get caught several times (See the memes below lol).

This goes on for quite a bit, until Ingo falls asleep and the station shuts down again (he still has no idea that sleeping will make things dangerous for everyone in there — all he knows is Uxie will keep them connected as long as it needs). The three of them run into Remnant as it’s now scouring the station, and MG Emmet gets hurt.

They all manage to escape, but Irida and Akari come across MG Emmet recovering in his joltik car while looking for a place to hide. They join him and do their best to help him, and this is when they finally have a chance to show him that genuinely, they’re here to help, and want to restore Ingo’s mind and get rid of Remnant, just like he does.

From this point on, MG Emmet begins to trust them and joins them, making sure they stay safe navigating the mind station. He will explain the situation in more detail, show them all of the traincars and what the different lines are meant for, show them the manifestations of people and pokemon that Ingo has come to know in Hisui (like Lady Sneasler!) as well as Ingo’s manifestation of his own damaged self-image, and help them unlock more of Ingo’s memories, slowly but surely making their way to the memory traincar that Remnant is trapped in.

MG Emmet also cannot help but torment Ingo like the brother he is — he will go out of his way to show Akari and Irida embarrassing memories of things that Ingo has said and done throughout his whole life. MG Emmet laughs at them, Akari laughs even louder. Irida is just mortified. And Ingo, to his horror, can tell they’re going through these memories when he finds he’s suddenly remembering all these embarrassing things at once.

There is so much more to this AU, this summary, as long as it is, has barely scratched the surface! There is so much more with many ideas, scenarios, and expansions that people have graciously shared, and they’re all so cool! If you find yourself interested in this AU and would like to see more where people have presented really cool ideas and expanded upon them, I highly suggest browsing through this AU’s tag -> #Train of Thought AU !

[majorlysapphic]

It's mind splurge time once again... :)

Dearest reader, today I am presenting a charminghearts soulmate AU with a (generous) sprinkle of violence. :))

(Taking inspiration from Sabrina Carpenter's new song/mv 'Taste'. @uhhhh-em-draws-stuff since you wanted to see something like this, please consider this AU as a gift/thank you for your wonderful art in the community :)) ).

TW: violence and murder.

Now, without further ado, onto the story idea!

Auradon is a land of fairy tales and idyllic love stories, so it's no shock that soulmates are a well-known and incredibly common aspect of life. So much so that it's considered taboo to not have a soulmate (especially among royal families).

Now, you may be asking: "how do people know if they have a soulmate or not?".

Well, first I'd like to establish that in this AU, some people don't have their destiny-appointed soulmate from birth. The experience of having a soulmate is varied, and sometimes fate takes a little time deciding who your other half is (especially since once your souls are 'linked', it's set in stone for the rest of time). How someone can discern whether they have a soulmate is through the notion of mark-sharing; whenever your soulmate is physically injured, your body bares the same marks left behind on their body (typically in a colour that best represents your other half). The stronger the bond between your souls, the more obvious and long-lasting these marks are.

Now, let's get onto Red and Chloe's lives prior to the start of the main story!

Throughout her entire life, Chloe has been raised on stories about her ancestors finding their 'true loves'. The Charming family bloodline are known for very strong bonds and picture-perfect soulmates, almost acting as the blueprint example throughout all of Auradon's history about how intense a soul-bond can get. So, it's logical to conclude that Chloe can't wait for the day she finally finds her soulmate.

Frustratingly, for the first ten years of her life. Chloe bares no soul marks, however on her eleventh birthday, she's ecstatic to find a bright red soul mark had appeared on her right knee. And whilst she feels bad that her soulmate must have tripped and scraped their own knee, Chloe is elated to know that her soulmate is out there in the world. She spends the rest of her birthday showing off her soul mark to everyone in the castle, and bells are rung out in Cinderellasburg in announcement and celebration that their young princess has reached this renowned milestone of life.

And when the soul mark fades, Chloe's sad to see it go of course. But she doesn't get to miss it long before more start blooming up, and after a month of knowing she has a soulmate, she's sure she's bonded to the clumsiest person in all the kingdoms. And you'd think this inkling of information would help her find her soulmate faster, but it doesn't. So once again, Chloe becomes a frustrated hopeless romantic, documenting every new mark and it's corresponding date and praying to her fairy godmothers she'll find her other half sooner than later.

And at seventeen, she does. At least that's what Chloe thinks.

I'd like to imagine that there are a lot of celebrations going on when the anniversary of the formation of Auradon arrives, so every year a different kingdom hosts other royal families for two weeks of celebrations/peace talks/gifting. So when Chloe was seventeen, it was Cinderellasburg's turn to host. There she meets Zellie, the crown princess of Corona, and Chloe falls hard. The pair get along right off the bat, and there's a spark of hope in Chloe's heart that this is it, especially given the other princesses clumsy nature. But it would be abrupt and extremely against royal decorum for Chloe to investigate whether Zellie is her soulmate or not, so she forces herself to remain patient and see where the future takes them.

Based off of those two weeks of celebration, they start writing letters and visiting each other, and soon enough, Chloe and Zellie are dating. One month into the relationship, Chloe thinks she's never been more happy, her love for Zellie isn't as "all consuming" as her parents described what it's like to be with a soulmate, but Chloe doesn't mind a quiet love. But, she doesn't want to freak the other girl out too early on, so she plans to broach the topic of being each others soulmates when they reach the four month mark of their relationship (though that doesn't stop her from dropping some not so subtle hints about her suspicion every now and then). Unfortunately for Chloe, she never does get to ask, because a week before their four month anniversary, Zellie breaks up with her.

Chloe's heart broken to put it lightly. She doesn't get where this came from, and soon enough she's wallowing in self pity once the communication between her and Zellie becomes more and more infrequent. But after all of this, it doesn't stop her resolve. So like the hopeless romantic she is (unwilling to give up on a girl who surely is her soulmate), she's planning on trying to win Zellie back on the anniversary celebration of Auradon's founding, now being hosted in the Kingdom of Corona.

It should be noted that Chloe will sort of meet Red at Corona's hosting celebration. But before I go into what I mean by 'sort of', it's time to give Red's life some context.

Wonderland citizens are just as likely to have soulmates as those who live in Auradon (who they aren't cut off from in this AU, but their borders are incredibly strict), but it's a topic that's kept behind closed doors given their reigning queens hatred of anything to do with the subject. Growing up, Red knew of the concept of soulmates, but she wasn't too fussed about the idea - so after ten years of her life with no soul marks, she concluded she didn't have a soulmate and moved on without a care. After all, she was much busier occupying her time by trying to prove herself as a worthy crown princess to her mother.

At first, this meant Red had remained studious and proper at all times, but eventually her exceeding academics and royal etiquette were no longer subject to adoration and instead expected as a bare minimum. Frustrated and still seeking her mothers approval as a young kid, Red takes up the habit of somewhat spying on whatever's going within her castles walls. This is where she'll start to realise how much violence and deceit is involved in ruling Wonderland (this is where she finds out that being sentenced to a beheading is the kindest her mother could ever be in judgement). But who is she to question things when all her life her mother has been presented as the ideal standard for what a queen should be?

From this moment on, something clicks into Red's head (perhaps even a bit too easily/quickly, but after growing up surrounded by violence, a girl tends to grow a bit desensitised to it all). She can be a picture perfect princess, but what her kingdom (and her mother) truly needs is someone willing to get their hands dirty for them. And a bit after she turns eleven, Red's able to prove it.

The first time she kills a man, she didn't exactly plan it.

All she knew that there was a young diplomat, perhaps only a few years older than her, who posed a threat to Wonderlands trades (ego, her mothers power). She remembers her mothers angry shouts from behind the doors of a meeting room when meeting with him. She remembers seeing him storm out of the room. She remembers seeing her mother whisper into a trusted guards ear before they rush off to the kitchens. She remembers realising that the diplomat would be dead by dinner time...

It's a slight morbid curiosity that gets Red moving. A growing want to see a soon to be dead man. To try recognise his faults and pinpoint why he deserved to be sentenced to death. So, she sneaks into the wing of the castle made up for visitors, locates his room and enters. There she sees him, looking out from the balcony, lost in his own stressed thoughts given his rigid stance.

Want to know a fun fact? Wonderland doesn't care much for safety standards, much preferring aesthetics.

So, when Red slowly creeps closer, listening in on this diplomats worried mutters, she feels a certain urge. A swift motion would be enough to prove herself. Just one powerful shove could change everything about how she's perceived. There'd be glory, praise, and responsibility. But of course, Red hesitates. This is a big decision, and the more she dwells on it the more troubled she becomes. But soon her decision time is up, and this diplomat is turning around, surprised to see the young princess standing behind him with a far away stare.

She's been caught lurking. Red panics, and the next thing she knows she's launched herself forward. Red's fall lands her on the edge of the balcony, scraping her knee pretty badly (it takes a few more seconds for Red to hear the diplomats fall end on the ground below).

The palace guards find her frozen there an hour later, replaying the events in her mind. Her mother is soon alerted and comes round, she looks to Red and then peeks over the balcony. She knows what's happened now and Red can never take this back. Though once she sees her mother looking down at her for the first time with a gleefully proud smile, Red's concerns seem to wash away.

From that moment on, Red was not only seen as the heir to the crown, but also as a powerful attribute towards Wonderland's power. Her mother was quick to place her in extra classes and training sessions (for more under the table political schemes), and whilst it may have been a harsh learning curve, Red's never felt so alive. Though it should be noted that because of her training sessions, Red tends to get a lot of injuries. It's a regular aspect of her life now, so she doesn't give the bruises and scars too much thought. But this also means that when her soulmarks start appearing in various shades of blue, they blend in well enough to be perceived as bruises.

For the next few years of her life, Red is given 'political tasks' within Wonderland. And the more justified havoc and death she spreads, the better Red becomes. Much to her mothers dismay, this means Red also starts getting restless on her missions, making her restless. And so after a simple recon task ends up with a manor in flames, the queen is left with a decision: take back the freedom she's given Red, or find a way to let the girl explore her true potential and carry on serving her.

The latter option is chosen, and on Red's sixteenth birthday she's presented with an enchanted, golden locket in the shape of a stopwatch. This object is the key to greater, more inconspicuous missions, as once Red places the golden chain around her neck she's disguised from anyone tracing back this version of herself to her true self (I'm imagining in reality, Red's appearance will just switch to Kylie Cantrall's real life look and the extra magic allows the anonymity enchantment to work).

From then on, Red is sent out to Auradon to do more of her mothers dirty work, and during her time there she burns down various historical sights and takes out a few important politicians. It isn't until she turns eighteen is when she's given her biggest and most risky mission yet: assassinating the crown princess of Corona, Zellie. She doesn't ask for the reason why, she just accepts.

This is a delicate mission, and Red figures the best way to get closer to her goal is to hide in plain sight. Slipping on her locket, Red enters the kingdom of Corona masquerading as a viscounts daughter from a faraway kingdom, simply travelling and making memories. Eventually, she meets Zellie at a boring ball and she get's to work charming the unsuspecting princess. It's back and forth flirting, and Red is getting closer and closer to her goal. Soon enough, Red's got the other girl completely enamoured especially after a moment of vulnerability where Zellie tearfully admits to not having a soulmate. Red doesn't see the big deal, but she plays the part of empathic 'friend', and when she tells Zellie that she doesn't have a soulmate either, she sees a flicker of hope in the other princesses eyes. Red pity's her for it, but she's not dwelling on what she feels when she's so so close to finishing her job. She just needs one moment without guards stationed out the door and a clear exit route.

That moment doesn't come immediately as she's called back to Wonderland on 'urgent news' regarding inner kingdom conflicts. But she's quick to assure her mother that she'll have the job done soon enough, since once Zellie found out Red had to leave, she personally invites her, with lovesick eyes, as her guest of honour to Corona's celebration of Auradon's formation.

Red accepts the invitation and returns to Corona two months later for the festivities, with a collection of hidden weapons and her trusty enchanted locket. And that's where she meets Chloe for the first time, after all, its hard not to notice the girl glaring daggers at her as she enters the first ball of the celebrations on Zellie's arm.

During nearly all the events going forward, Chloe is seething with jealousy. She's so sure that Zellie is her soulmate, how could she stay calm when there's another girl by her side? And whilst the two say they're only friends, it doesn't take a genius to work out there's something else there. But, so long as they're still considering each other as friends, Chloe's still able to try win Zellie back.

Though that doesn't sit well with Red. Soon enough, both girls are competing against each other.

They both are trying to dance with Zellie at a ball? They try spoil each others attempts and somehow end up getting partnered with each other for the rest of the dance (and despite the fact that Red can move with the agility of a cat, she all of a sudden can't stop 'accidently' roughly stepping on Chloe's feet during all the dances).

Both of them are trying to sit next to Zellie at an opera? Somehow both end up getting seated in a private booth and end up quietly arguing for the entire performance.

They carry on fighting and thwarting each other. It feels electrifying to be at each others throats like this. Chloe can't seem to get enough of her dynamic with Red, so much so that she starts getting excited to see the other girl. And soon enough, Chloe realises that when she's gripping a champagne glass and gritting her teeth as she watches Red and Zellie dance across the ballroom, her eyes are following Red instead of who she came to Corona for. Thus, leading to the realisation that what she had with Zellie may have been an overexcited puppy love, and despite the fact she doesn't actually know who her soulmate is, she doesn't care all that much when her focus is centred on Red.

During Chloe's new revelations, Red is slowly going insane as her assassination attempts keep getting prevented.

Her plan to waltz Zellie under a falling chandelier? Annoyingly intricate to set up and unsuccessful. Her plan to give Zellie a poisoned flute of champagne at the opera? Knocked over by Chloe in a rush to get to Zellie's side. Her plan to push Zellie off a balcony? Stopped when Chloe steps out with them.

(Red refuses to admit this is the most fun she's had in her whole life).

Red knows Chloe is doing this on purpose, and she starts panicking on whether Chloe's somehow seen past her lockets enchantments and knows the reason why she's here. So, the simple solution? Red has to kill Chloe.

At an ornate masquerade ball, Red finds a way to lure Chloe into an empty servants passage. She's intent on a little interrogation prior to anything, but Red soon forgets about the sharpened blade strapped to her thigh when her back meets the wall and Chloe's lips are on hers.

Okay. That didn't go according to plan. The worst part of it all? Red doesn't seem to mind Chloe's lips on hers. In fact, she rather likes it given the way her heart skips a beat and how she tangles her hands in Chloe's hair.

And by the end of their tryst, Chloe's feels as if she's walking on clouds (she got the girl after all) whilst Red is internally panicking, having never felt so fucked in her life.

The next few days go by in a blur, Red should be focusing on Zellie, but she always seems to gravitate towards Chloe. Soon enough, Red acknowledges that she's going to have to cut her plans short and get her job done by the end of tonight before Chloe messes up her judgement even more.

So in another mind numbing ball, she asks Zellie to meet her in her room once the main dances are finished. Zellie agrees (blissfully unaware and thinking this is the moment she'll get to confess to red and/or vice versa). Once Zellie slips out of the ballroom, Red follows thirty minutes later.

But of course, there's one person in the room Red can't escape the attention from. And who's to blame Chloe for following her? They've been flirting and more, but haven't talked about what exactly they are. She better take this opportunity to talk to the other girl.

Going through the castle's hallways, she searches for Red. And she finds her, though she wasn't expecting to find the other girl in such a state. Because Red's in her ornate ballgown with a dagger clutched in her grip, absolutely drenched in blood. The blood of Chloe's first love (and friend), who is collapsed on the floor and very much not alive anymore after one vicious swipe against her neck.

They're frozen, staring at each other. And then everything happens in a blur and they're fighting. Chloe lands a good few hits in attempt to restrain Red, but her swordsmanship classes don't amount to the same skill Red has gotten from experiencing real fights. Next thing the girls know, Chloe's pinned to the ground and Red's got a dagger digging into her throat.

Chloe's staring up at Red with a multitude of emotions. Sadness. Grief. Anger. Disbelief. It's a rollercoaster of emotions that's expected, though what's got Chloe in absolute heartache is seeing a clean, blue soul mark line appear on Red's throat, perfectly mirroring the cutting edge of the blade Red has on her.

They stare at each other. The wait is agonising, why on earth can't Red take the final blow? She doesn't know, and she's losing time for her escape. So as the clocks chime to signal midnight, Red uses the hilt of her blade to knock Chloe out.

She rushes to change out of her ballgown into a set of clothes that will make fleeing the scene and climbing walls much easier. But she's panicked on her miscalculation with her timing, so once Red all but flings herself out of the rooms window, she doesn't seem to notice that her locket's chain has snapped and fallen to the ground.

It's a small while later that Chloe wakes back up into her sickening reality, realising it wasn't all a sick dream after all. With an aching head, she stumbles into the hallway to go ring an emergency bell. Castle guards will be where she is soon enough, and despite the fact she should stand still and rest, she re-enters the room.

Shivering, she notices how Red didn't even attempt to hide Zellie's body. In fact, this entire crime scene is a chaotic mess, the murder weapon abandoned in the middle of the room. Going towards the only open window, Chloe notices a locket on the ground. The very same locket that she had noticed Red always wearing during the short time she knew her.

Fate is the most cruel thing Chloe's ever dealt with, she decides then. She didn't expect to relive her parents experience (albeit, hers is a lot darker), let alone be in her fathers role, but here she is with her soulmate fleeing the scene after midnight, leaving behind only a blood speckled locket as a reminder of her existence.

Hours later, when Chloe's being interviewed after being treated for her injuries. She doesn't mention the locket, even when the lie makes it feel as if the lockets burning a hole in her pocket. She knows she's being selfish, but this locket is hers to do with as she wishes. So with a determined heart, Chloe ignores the pitying looks of everyone around her as the months pass and the tale of the gruesome murder of Corona's heir is shared.

She's busy trying to find a way to track down Red with this small piece of jewellery. And when she finds her, she's not sure what she'll do. Whether she wants revenge or something else. All she knows is her old self with a head full of fairy tales is fading, and she's willing to do anything to get her hands on the other girl.

A year passes.

Red has long since been banned from going back to Auradon after her mother found out about her various mistakes (though she made sure not to mention Chloe). She can't say she's too mad about it, the situation rattled her more than she expected (especially when she returns home, to find a thin blue soulmark across her neck. She's not an idiot. She knows who it's linked to. She doesn't say anything to anyone about it).

So, she sinks back into her oldest routines as crown princess. But one day she comes into her mothers study to find out that Wonderland is entering some form of political alliance with Cinderellasburg.

Two weeks later she's sat by the dining table of the Charming's castle, refusing to make eye contact with anyone or even contribute to the discussion. During the same dinner, Chloe hasn't taken her eyes off of Red once, unable to shake the feeling that she knows her from somewhere.

Red can only hope that she can stay as far away from Chloe as possible during the alliance (given that once it's established, regular communication and travel between Wonderland and Cinderellasburg will begin).

Chloe's starting to think that she should try find a way to get to know the crown princess of Hearts. Perhaps she'll enlighten Chloe about Wonderland's magic (the very same magic Chloe has figured out is weaved into the locket she carries in her pocket everywhere).

[dragonrider9905]

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little. 

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 

Kriff. He had to fix this. 

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 

He was lost. 

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 

A lost love. 

And it was his fault. 

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 

He saw it. And he caused it. 

And he hated himself for it. 

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 

Turns out he was wrong.  

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 

It was ‘that’ look. 

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 

You squeezed his hand. 

“We’ll find her. I promise.” 

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 

He squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again. 

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 

Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 

Your voice. 

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 

“Meshla, no!” 

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 

Your painful cry.

No

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart. 

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…” 

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 

Hunter came in running. 

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing. 

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 

Oh well, you could only push forward. 

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak. 

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 

You had an infection. 

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response. 

 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed. 

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 

You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 

“Hey Handsome.” 

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 

This one, he couldn’t do. 

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard. 

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.” 

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—” 

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened. 

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

[crueisummer]

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.

chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.

chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)

playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love

author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!

word count: 3.5k

disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.

                ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.

Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.

“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”

You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.

"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.

"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"

"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.

"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."

"Races? He races too?"

"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!

"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.

"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."

"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.

"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?

He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."

"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.

"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."

"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.

"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."

You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.

As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.

He asks if you have your phone with you.

"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"

"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.

"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…

"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.

He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."

You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?

"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.

"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.

“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.

“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.

"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”

You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.

"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."

As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.

"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.

"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.

"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"

"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."

"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.

You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."

You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."

"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”

You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.

Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.

So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.

“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”

“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.

As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?

Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?

You tried to find a compromise.

Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”

He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”

You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.

You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”

“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”

Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”

As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.

Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”

...

Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.

You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.

Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.

You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.

The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.

You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.

When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?

You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.

It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.

Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.

But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.

"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.

"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.

"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.

For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.

"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.

“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.

"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.

"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.

Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."

↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬

[dumblittleboy19]

STORY TIME:

So I’ve never gotten personal on here much. You can call me Addie! If you’ve been on the abdl side of tumbler for 10+ years, I was the male half of ThatOddCouple. We obviously went our separate ways but still keep in touch!

I’ve been into ABDL well before I knew there was even a term for it. If I had to put a number to it, I was probably 10 or 11 when I started to notice I was …..interested in wearing diapers. But there’s a little more to it.

I grew up in a cul du sac with my older sister by 4 years and a bunch of kids slightly older than me. Only thing was that up until I was 10, I was the only boy among the group. And the youngest. And I was “forced” to be walked up and down and all over the cul du sac in their little strollers that their mom would let them use to play “house”. It happened a lot. And it got to the point that I would get jealous when they used the other girl close to my age to be the “baby”. I loved the attention.

At the same time, my mom had a childhood best friend that lived a neighborhood away from us with a son and daughter that were me and my sisters age. I’d sleep over there basically once a week minimum and they would sleep at my house. From toddlers up until middle school I did this. Apparently the son was a chronic bedwetter at night and to make him feel comfortable, she would make us both wear diapers. And she would put each of us in them herself before we got comfy to watch a movie or play video games. I remember sitting in the backseat of the car on the way home the next day and hearing my parents argue about how it was “weird” she did this to her son and me for so long. I LONGED for those sleepovers.

I know both of those stories sound like bullshit. They are real. The other side of this, the side people don’t talk about much, is the negative aspects of their kink. When my parents found out what I was looking at online and how active I was on the DailyDiapers forums (real ones know what’s up) that started an almost decades long cycle of being shoved into different therapists offices to be “fixed”. And whenever a therapist told them I was perfectly fine and not harming anyone, I was accused of lying to my therapists to get on their good side and sent to a new one. It was like this until the day I moved out at 26. To the point where I had to make up a reason WHY I was going to therapy to my vanilla friends and girlfriends.

I spent a lot of my life trying to separate the “vanilla me” and this side of me and in the past 5 or 6 years I’ve just embraced it more. I still keep things separate for the most part, but my closest friends know. I’ve had long term relationships with Mommies and I LOVE a FLR 😍

Always dreamed of having my own place to be little whenever I want and throw abdl parties and sleepovers and have a whole bunch of IRL abdl friends. I’d daydream about having that freedom constantly.

And now I’m doing just that. I host a month abdl banger in south jersey once a month. I’ve made so many friends in the New Jersey/Philly area and they are all such talented and amazing people. We’ve worked really hard this past year and the community we have built is SO amazing. I have become the safe house for people to come and feel like they can be themselves and be little (or be a mommy/daddy. Whatever you fancy). I’ve had people say to me that my house was the first time anybody else has even seen them in their full ABDL gear, let alone compliment them and call them cute and make them feel small.

I love this community and I wanna see it grow more and more. And if you are in the area and you think you’re alone, you’re not. Reach out and let’s be friends.

Well that’s my super long winded post! Thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far lmao.

That last pic I salvaged from the old ThatOddCouple tumblr page! I can’t believe I found it. If anybody has any other pictures from that page PLEASE share them with me.

[the--artist]

Donna Beneviento and her Dance with Duality - An Analysis

9/10/24

Pretext: Donna Beneviento (ドナ・ベネヴィエント) is a character from Resident Evil 8 - a horror, first-shooting video game. She is one of the four lords that you/the protag Ethan Winters have to fight to collect four flasks which contain the body parts for Ethan to resurrect his daughter. This game also includes the wildly popular - Lady Demitrescu - the huge vampire gothic lady who entranced everyone on the sexuality spectrum everywhere.

While the four lords, themselves, are the evil antagonists of the story, they all have sympthetic (and unsympethetic) backstories and reasoining for doing what they do. They are all campy and stupid as well as menacing and frighting. For this anlysis I want to focus on one my favorite character from all time - Donna Beneviento - the quiet doll maker and the second lord we have to defeat.

Before I get started, thank you @celezztia for motivating me to write this! You are great mutual. Also thanks to @krisssssssy as well!

While it might not be as evident on the first watch/playthrough, Donna Beneviento walks this thin line with duality - a struggle and blessing for her. From her crest to her doll Angie, there are so many signs of an indecisive individual. Although her lack of screen time might make Beneviento seem boring or flat, there is a lot of pretext in her environment, personality, and choices that offer a lot to her character.

I wanted to write an analysis of this aspect of her and dive deep into what this could mean for Beneviento's character. Of course, there are plenty of different ways of interpreting her character since she is literally DROWNED in mystery, so feel free to criticize my analysis. I'd love to discuss it!!!

Angie Beneviento

...Okay, starting with the biggest showcase of this duality is Angie. Angie was a doll that Lady Beneviento got from her father and was very dear to her. She would play with it very often as she was lonely and cast out for having a scar on her face. Through the Gardner's Diary, we can see that Angie started to become more alive and alive after Donna was adopted.

Coming back to the present time, I think it's really interesting to question how Angie has SUCH a different personality from Donna. Is Angie Donna's split personality? Or is Angie just being 100% controlled by Donna - but just showcasing another aspect of Donna. The issue with this problem is that there is almost equal evidence for both sides of the argument.

During the final battle sequence, Donna is seen puppeteering Angie, and Angie then starts talking with Ethan. This could be used as proof that Angie needs Donna to function. Even during Ethan's trial, we see Donna with Angie. Donna has always been referred to as the puppeteer as well, which makes a lot of sense in this case. In scenes where we only interact with Angie, we can assume that Donna must be invisible and/or controlling Angie from a distance.

Proof that Angie is a separate person can reside in the fact that Angie is so much more loud, obnoxious, and berating than Donna. Donna struggles with talking as her voice is hoarse and dry - showcasing that she doesn't really speak - while Angie's voice is clear and loud. It also possible that the codou in Donna's brain allowed her to express a side of her that she felt she couldn't in the normal world, thereby creating Angie. It's also worth mentioning that Angie is never addressed as Donna in the game. Everyone mentions Donna and Angie separately.

The way the codou is unfortunately never really discussed, so it becomes very difficult to pinpoint how to treat Angie and Donna. But in both cases, they both showcase the duality of Benenviento. One quiet and calm (the Donna that everyone knows - including the gardener) and the loud Angie.

[Donna picking up Angie]

Thinking about why Angie's personality is the way it also interests me a lot. Since one can assume Donna had always been quiet and shy (basically showing no characteristics of Angie) before the codou, it is really interesting to me how a character like Donna ends up jelling with Angie. Is it because Angie is incredibly determined, attention-grabbing, and dominant? Did Donna need a way to interact with others while still keeping her comfort and distance? From the gardener's diary, it doesn't seem abnormal for a child (or even a teen) to speak to a doll when they are lonely. But I would assume a doll like Angie would have become less obnoxious if Donna was using Angie for comfort, no? When making friends in-person or online, don't we seek familiarity with others? So why did Donna feel the need to make her best friend so different?

I personally lean into the theory that Donna must have not gotten much affection, attention, and comfort during her childhood. The isolation coming from the death of her parents as well as having no friends must have forced Donna to seek out a way to express that. When the cadou was implanted in Donna's brain, this desire (separated now from Donna or not) led these desires to resurface and help deal with her current situation. If Donna needs attention from Mother Miranda, she doesn't have to speak at all, Angie can do it for her. Angie can grab attention for her. Angie can intimidate Ethan for her. Angie can accomplish all these things for Donna without her actually having to interact with them. I believe that when Donna was playing with Angie all those years ago, she must have expressed that loneliness to Angie - resulting in who Angie is today.

[Angie pushing Heisenburg and Demitrscu to fight, while a playful Donna watches her doll]

Beneviento's Design (feat Angie)

Alright!!! Now on to my favorite part of this analysis, Donna and Angie's design!

It's no secret that Donna is dressed up in mourning attire and Angie is dressed in a wedding dress. But the duality between both of their outfits is so insane! The fact that Donna is wearing all black and is pale as the moon, while Angie has grey skin but wears all white? Both of their outfits look worn and old as well. They both share a marking on the right side of their face which has the codou implantation (Donna) and moon crescent (Angie). Donna is very beautiful but hides her face with a veil while Angie is less beautiful (please don't go after me!) but shows her face loud and clear. Donna is so afraid to be seen but is ironically being seen through Angie when you consider all the design elements they have in common.

One can assume Donna wears a mourning veil to showcase her constant mourning for Claudia Beneviento (...I might make another post on this idk yet on who I believe she could be) and her parents. There is so much death that this girl has experienced that it has put her in a constant state of mourning. There isn't any reason to feel happy for Donna. Claudia's grave is beautifully decorated that Donna cannot move on. We are never given the reason for the death of her parents, but by the fact that Lord Benenviento created a doll for his daughter, we can only assume that they were a very close and tight-knit family. It is very unfortunate that a child had to go through this much tragedy with only having her Gardner there as a comfort.

Angie is such a contrast to this. Angie is like a child. Angie represents birth and life. She is bright cheerful and lively. Despite being a nonliving doll, she has more "life" than Donna. Through all this death and tragedy Donna experienced, she can finally breathe the normality of life through Angie.

[Please watch the RE8 puppet show, it is honestly so adorable!]

I wonder why Donna thought it was fitting to put Angie in a wedding dress? Did Donna dream of a wedding of her own? Was Claudia really Benviento's daughter? Why did Donna choose to celebrate life through Angie? I guess we might never know.

As mentioned previously, one commonality between Donna and Angie is their scar. It is just a hint of showing how divided they both are. The way they reflect each other here is adorable lol.

The Crest

The sun and the moon as well as life/death are both extremely important themes to Donna Benevineto (shout out to Dua Lipa's Houdini who I associate Donna with). Both Angie and Donna are divided but complete together. In some ways it feels like Donna just be herself if not a "full character" she needs Angie to complete her. It is not just Donna, but Donna AND Angie. No matter how divided Benviento(s) is/are, they will always need the other part to be whole.

In a way, the Benviento crest cemented this way of thinking by showcasing the crest together. Angie as the Sun, and Donna as the Moon - together make up a whole. I always ponder if the other Benevientos also dealt with this duality, but that might be questions left for interpretation....

Thank you so much for reading this far if you did! I've been meaning to write on this topic since forever! Even though this analysis was decently long, there is still SO MUCH to dig into Donna. So many theories on who she really is and what happened to her. I will continue to write about her in the future.

[celaenaeiln]

it is in my humble opinion that in a demigod child situation, Dick Grayson would be either a child of Ares, Athena, or Aphrodite. Athena and Aphrodite are pretty obvious, he's smart and he's charming and he's bloody terrifying. but Ares. Oh Boy Do I Love That Guy and here is why.

modern media portrays Ares as a misogynistic asshole. this is just untrue. Ares is the only male Olympian without a history of SA and in fact adores & respects women. he is the father of the Amazons and has the title "the god feasted by women" Dick Grayson (apparently) is perceived as a womanizer and cheater. That Is Not True At All. he loves and respects women.

Ares is often portrayed as being a force of nature, uncaring of the law. that is also false. he's also the god of rebellion and civil order, an ally of Themis, the goddess of justice Dick Grayson, yes he can be a feral little shite (and i say this with full adoration), he's still a police and stands for the people, he brings justice in both his day and night job

there's a common conception that Ares is a meatheaded guy who only likes war and violence. once again, untrue. you need strategy for war, Ares simply represents the brutal aspects of war but he's still a smart guy as seen with the Romans adopting Ares into Mars. not to mention, Ares understands that in war there are winners and losers Dick Grayson is often seen as ditzy or less smart than his siblings (especially Tim) when in reality he's a very capable and smart guy who understands that loss happens at times

Ares cares about his family, especially his mother. when two giants threatened his mother, Hera, he was the first to fight for her. i don't need to talk about how much Dick cares for his family right? i'll admit though, this point is less polished than the rest

as much as i love the PJO series, i HATE their characterization of Ares being a crappy dad. the reality is that he disobeyed Zeus to avenge his children in the Trojan War. he committed murder and was sentenced to trial for his daughter. The Amazonian Warriors. he may not be the best at affection but he's a caring dad Dick Grayson is not the perfect brother/mentor/father figure but he's trying and doing his best goddamnit. i'm sick of people saying he's not

anger is an essential part to Ares. anger is an essential part to Dick Grayson

there's a common portrayal of Ares and Aphrodite where Ares treats Aphrodite like shite. let's be honest, the goddess of love (a war goddess, by the way if you look up Aphrodite Areia) would not let herself be treated poorly. my personal belief on why this portrayal exists lies with the whole Hephaestus debacle in which i believe Hephaestus was the crap guy here but that's another topic i'd discuss with another shot I Do Not Care What You Say, Starfire and Nightwing Are Not The Shitty Relationship You Think They Are

in (i think) two different stories, it's shown that Ares can dance. it makes sense. footwork is important in battle. footwork is important in acrobatics. Dick Grayson knows what he's doing

in many myths, Ares is treated like crap by his siblings and although this is another half baked point, i feel like it's a bit common for Dick Grayson to be treated like crap by his loved ones

i love Ares and i love Dick Grayson and sadly they both have poor representation in mass media. thank you for listening, i am so fucking tipsy (maybe drunk actually) right now.

damn.

[anghraine]

I think I've talked about it before, but there's a pretty beloved book!Darcy line that's ... maybe not objectively misread, but often read in a very different way than I interpret it:

"But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."

I've seen this interpreted as a romantic concession that Darcy's love for Elizabeth and concern for her were his true motives for intervening with Lydia. Less often, I've also seen it read much more uncharitably as an indictment of his principles—he only cares about this whole thing at all because Elizabeth does and he cares about her, so it's ultimately selfish.

And those readings (which are ultimately related) do make a certain amount of sense if you analyze the quote by itself. He outright says he was only thinking of Elizabeth! Yes, this is in specific reference to her family, but still, he's pretty clear that his true motive was Elizabeth's peace of mind.

In this case, his claim to the Gardiners that he was principally motivated by his sense of guilt over Wickham would simply be a lie—perhaps a benevolent one to protect Elizabeth from feeling pressured, perhaps a necessary one in the circumstances, but still not an actual motive and not truly an aspect of his character.

Interestingly, though, when Elizabeth receives Mrs Gardiner's account of the Lydia affair in her letter, she does not doubt that Darcy was telling the truth about his motives, even if his feelings for her also affected him:

he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially concerned.

Elizabeth is in a lot of turmoil and uncertainty at the time, so it does make sense that she might not fully realize, or dare assume, that she really was his primary motivation—even if it means that she's largely wrong about him all over again.

...except, a mere two sentences before Darcy says "I thought only of you," he says something else that's often excluded from the romantic (or anti-Darcy) use of the original quote.

"That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny."

So in this very passage, he says that he had other motives than Elizabeth's happiness, but that the possibility of making her happy strengthened his other motives. That is quite similar to what Elizabeth concluded when she read Mrs Gardiner's letter (even the phrasing is similar). She did underestimate the strength of Darcy's feelings during that whole phase of the story, yes—he certainly feels more than "remaining partiality." But she's not getting him fundamentally wrong at this point.

I think that, like Elizabeth, Darcy did feel guilty about Wickham (both of them disproportionately to their actual culpability, IMO). I think that this really was a driving motive for his intervention with Lydia—first in trying to get Lydia to leave Wickham, and secondly in arranging the marriage. Of course, his feelings for Elizabeth would strengthen that drive, and did! But I don't think he was mostly lying to the Gardiners or that Elizabeth's analysis of his actions and character were all that wrong this time.

IMO, when he says he was only thinking of Elizabeth, he's speaking specifically in the context of her attempt to voice the gratitude that her family (allegedly) would feel if they knew the truth of what he had done. He respects them as human beings at this point, but he wasn't acting for the sake of the Bennets as a group and doesn't feel like they really owe him anything. The only person he was particularly motivated by was Elizabeth. He also doesn't want her to feel like she owes him something, but if she's going to thank him personally, it should be for herself alone; anything else is kind of wrong and fake.

In that sense, he was only thinking about her—that is, as opposed to thinking about other people. But given his longer speech, in which he explicitly says he had other motives, Elizabeth's happiness being the only person's he was really preoccupied with doesn't prevent him from having more complicated, abstract, layered motives overall. It can be romantic without necessarily being simple.

[gffa]

Honestly, I felt touched by your answer to the other anon. It must be very tiresome to deal with shit like that for so long.

People are rage baiting, throwing ready-made arguments abt everything. From serious topics like politics to fans enjoying a movie. Respectful discussion doesn't exist.

I've seen an answer inside a thread that I think apllies: if someone says rude things online to a damn stranger, said stranger has no obligation of being polite back or to try to understand. People need to rethink how they interact online. And, in some cases, there's no solution, jerks will be jerks.

Sorry you have to deal with that. Be good out there.

Hi! Thank you for the very sweet message, I appreciate it. And goddddd I have so many things to say about the state of respectful discussion (and the lack of it) in Star Wars fandom, because I don't think I've met a fandom where it's so complicated to even just understand the boundaries of a given discussion. Like, okay, let's say I'm going to have a conversation with someone who is Jedi-critical and we want it to be a respectful discussion--what does that look like? Because I've had discussions that I thought were very civil and fruitful, but then later almost every time I would see the person comment something like "Jedi fans are so blind they can't admit the truth." on someone else's post, often about a subject that we'd discussed. So, what initially felt like a respectful discussion then becomes completely soured and another source of contention in the fandom imo. And then there's the consideration of, what constitutes respectful discussion to both parties--if I completely disagree with everything you say and state my views with confidence (frex "Attachment is not the same thing as love, because the Jedi are primarily influenced by Buddhists on this aspect and both word of god commentary and the canon source material itself are extremely consistent on this."), does the other person consider that disrespectful to them if they disagree? I don't consider it inherently disrespectful, so long as we're talking about the content of the canon and not about other real people, because, babe, you can just not agree. I'm not doing anything to stop you. But I've found a lot of people think I'm trying to force them to agree with me when, no, I'm just stating things on my own blog as things I view as facts. People are free to disagree with me, just as I disagree with them, but a lot of people often seem to think differently as far as I can tell. I've seen so many discussions where people are like, "Finally! A respectful discussion in Star Wars!" and it's like. 90% of them just agreeing with each other. Like, yeah, it's easy to have a "respectful discussion" when you largely overlap opinions. But would they be that considerate if the person didn't largely agree with them? Would they still consider it respectful if the other person maintained their disagreement? And then there's the thorny, "What do we even consider 'canon'?" because, for me, I'm not really that into the Legends continuity for example. It's a very cool continuity, there's so much there that I love, but my heart is with Lucas' continuity. Some people really don't accept anything from the Disney continuity. All of that is fine, but to have a discussion, you have to figure out if you're using supplementary material and where each of you is coming from. And if you mix-and-match, that's another thing you have to address, because not everyone does.

And this is all over some fictional made up stories! Politics is easy to see why it gets so contentious--real people's lives are really on the line, anyone who can calmly discuss life and death situations for a lot of people like they don't matter is someone I'm going to have a hard time understanding. But over Star Wars? Having to overcome all of the above and pour a ton of energy into being compassionate when you've been burned so many times, all because of a fictional space story?? A lot of times it just doesn't seem worth it when there are better uses for our time and it's not like anyone's life is on the line here. (Like writing up a reference guide or silly Jedi Temple Life headcanons! So much more productive feeling!) So when someone comes into my inbox with bad faith commentary, I can only set down my boundaries and refuse to dance with them on the subject they're trying to needle me with. If they want a real discussion, they can pull up their big person's undies and approach me with good faith. Ultimately, I'm more interested in talking about how we treat each other and thinking that maybe that can provide some progress, rather than arguing about the same things we've done forever, because people are going to settle where they will, so many of us just aren't moving because we've done the homework, spent our time in the mines, and come to the conclusions we have after a lot of thought about it. Discussions where you're trying to move someone who doesn't want to be moved don't feel fruitful to me, I need a different purpose to engage and I'm doing my best to convey that that's where my boundary is, to people who come into my inbox. Genuinely good faith discussions are welcome, but you're going to have to pour a lot of compassion into it, because I'm going to be pouring a lot of compassion into a good faith discussion, too, otherwise I don't see it going anywhere. And people who try are going to get the same response they always get. I'll try to be gentle as I can about it, but seriously. Eight years of this. Extend me some grace, you guys, okay? 😂

[aphrodieties]

Hi! Would you mind talking about your success in revising poor academic performance and getting into dream school in more detail? Sorry to bother if you are not willing to.

Thank you!

I don't talk about my success with the Law of Assumption because it's not as exciting as most people would assume it to be and I don't want to disappoint, however, I’ll make an exception and happily go into detail about my academic success. Hopefully, this will help people to learn how to apply the Law of assumption.

Background: I was a terrible student, and I was always bottom-ranked in all of my classes. I never learned to study and I failed to turn in assignments, I was truant, and I couldn't understand half of the shit I learned.

I made it to high school and it was in my senior year that I realized something needed to change, I had a newfound love of learning and I wanted to pursue higher education. In my current state, that wasn't possible—I wasn't even expected to graduate on time much less be admitted to a college with an acceptance rate of 4%.

The Law Of Assumption: When I decided to apply the Law of Assumption, the first thing that I did was admit to myself that, consciousness is the only reality. I was experiencing everything that I was conscious of being and I was conscious of being a terrible student, unintelligent, unmotivated, lazy, truant, and at risk of not graduating.

Consciousness is the only reality and that meant that there was not a singular thing that I could do outside of changing my conception of self to fix my circumstances, I admitted that I couldn't control the world around me and it took some time but eventually, I no longer wanted to control the world around me—I wanted to control Self.

I decided to induce the state akin to sleep and I did, when I did the state akin to sleep, I didn't focus on what I desired but rather on the fulfillment of my desire. The reason that I did this was because I wanted so many things but my desire remained the same—academic success.

I wanted intelligence, study skills, elite education, awards, recognition, perfect attendance, grade revision, and all of that good stuff—but the main thing was academic success and these were all just side quests or aspects of that.

I induced the state akin to sleep and immersed myself in the feeling of the wish fulfilled, I woke up the next morning in the state of the wish fulfilled and continued throughout my day as normal.

I went to school and I came home just like every other day.

I wasn't constantly aware of the state that I was entertaining but when I did become aware of that, I would just go back to the wish fulfilled. There was no logic or reminders—I accepted that I was already what I wanted to be and moved on.

The process wasn't perfect and I will admit that there were times when I would falter and spiral, but that didn't matter at all—I was nonchalant about it, kind of like that TikTok song "lalala whatever, lalala doesn't matter, lalala oh well" and the reason I was so nonchalant was because I accepted that I was already what I wanted to be!

I was living in imagination and there was nothing else to it, nothing else mattered to me and nobody but myself could tell me any different.

I went to school and I came home just like every other day.

I wish there was a climax to this story but there isn't, nothing changed—even when the 3D finally conformed. The reason is that it wasn't anything new, I was always a good student, I always had study skills, an elite education, awards, etc., and I had already been accepted to my dream school. It was natural and a regular occurrence for me.

I wish I could say that I felt excitement or ecstasy but that would be a blatant lie, the only time I felt something like that was when I first immersed myself in the feeling of the wish fulfilled but everything after that was just nonchalant.

I can't even tell you how long it took, but I'm at my dream school and I'm having a good time. It wasn't about creating anything out of thin air but becoming aware of what already exists and that's why it was so simple.

Happy manifesting!