#& kind & nurturing person despite not wanting to be the stay at home mother

[odetolovers]

i wish i knew more queer women who were very into their careers

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🌸🌸🌸

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

🌸 Ruler of the 2nd house in the 4th house: your mother might have got you your job. You have a job because of her.

🌸 Moon in the 4th house natives can be connected to female lineage of the family, like talking to mother, grandmother, an aunt. But that only if it’s harmoniously aspected. Some Moon in the 4th house cut off their mother.

🌸 Ruler of the 5th house in the 9th house: you are more popular abroad than in your home country.

🌸 Saturn in the 4th house natives often feel stuck. They might not be able to move as fast-paced as their peers. If they move to an apartment, they usually stay there for 4-7, even 10 years despite wanting to move earlier than that.

🌸 Ruler of the 2nd house in the 5th house: you might creative something within your workplace that gets limelight (gets talked about in the news, papers)! Such as for example you may work at a Michelin star restaurant and you are creating a dish that gets talked about in the press.

🌸 I noticed Saturn in the 4th house can very well indicate that the native has lost the mother. But often times I see that the native had a “secondary” mother like figure that emotionally nurtured them and supported more than their own mother. Usually the nurturing didn’t come from the primary source.

🌸 Whenever I see Saturn in the 2nd house, it gives me “old money vibes”.

🌸 The ruler of the 4th house in the 2nd house people often keep money in their home. These are the people to have a fairly large amount laying somewhere in the middle of book pages.

🌸 If you have Virgo North Node or NN in the 6th house you are basically learning in this lifetime how to keep a job. Very mundane, I know, but it’s true😂.

🌸 People with ruler of the 7th house in the 5th house often rush marriage or marry the person without really fully knowing them, for example after a year.

🌸 Juno in the 7th house native tend to work with their spouse, committed partner. Or finds a job due to an opportunity introduced by the partner. Usually is also a line of work connected with Venus, such as working together in a restaurant for example.

🌸 I noticed Pisces Moon men tend to be “the seductive con-artist” when it comes to luring a person into a partnership. And while this is often true, they also attract partners that see in them whoever they want to see. Usually how the partner of Pisces Moon sees them feels almost delusional in comparison how other people see the Pisces Moon native.

🌸 Venus in the 2nd house Synastry: 2nd house person might constantly compliment your outfit, even if you are not in a partnership.

🌸 Part of Fortune in the 1st house often need new beginnings in order to be successful in their endeavours, projects. They need to reinvent how they do things. They also attract more abundant energy when they start and finish the same project in one sitting, so that they use put their natural inspiration to good use.

🌸 Taurus Venus is always stereotypically describe, because Taurus it’s in his home here, so it feels the energy is easy for these people. But for these people it easily backfires if they are being inconsistent. They can’t really play the “ohh he didn’t reply in 2 days, then I won’t reply for 4 days” modern dating games. They really need to be the ones reaching out, being consistent to win someone over. Which kind of sucks, I know, because they will feel like they are always the one reaching out, so I hear you.

🌸 Venus in the 8th house can hook up with someone and in the midst they realize this person is their soulmate or lover. I’m not gonna lie, this native may not know whether they fully accept unconditionally their lover until they actually get physical with them. Venus in the 8th house hides their love nature, so they might not even know themselves.

🌸 Venus in the 9th house people can meet their future spouse, committed partner through your father.

🌸 Capricorn Venus: you might get hit on by clients, customers at work.

🌸 Cancer Jupiter, Sagittarius Moon might want to get married young or be a parent while they still are young and look good.

🌸 Meanwhile, Venus in the 4th house and Taurus over the 4th house can meet their lover through their mother. Or the mother will try to set you up with someone. Venus in the 6th house can meet the partner through your or their aunt or uncle. Venus in the 3rd house can meet the partner through your or their sibling, cousin.

🌸 Ruler of the 12th house in the 1st house: these natives can be perceived as passive. So that’s why people feel like they can control them. Another thing about this ruler not amount of drinking caffeine will help you in rising your energy. You are naturally low energy. You might also be more successful abroad.

🌸 Ruler of the 3rd house in the 2nd house people are often teachers, because it quite literally indicates speaking for a living. Also, you guys are great at voiceovers!!

🌸 Venus in the 10th house might have a partner in the same field, profession, for example both lawyers.

🌸 Ruler of the 7th house in the 6th house: your future spouse, partner could drive you to work and pick you from work as well.

🌸 The courting phase will be veryy long if you have ruler of the 7th house in the 5th house.

🌸 Mercury in the 5th house like variety when it comes to dating, because they get easily bored. However, I noticed they have a set preference for what type of dates they enjoy. They might always want to go for a coffee date, wine and dine date or hike date. Something about their dates tends to be still repetitive despite needing variety.

🌸 Mars in the 9th house rarely have a good relationship with their father. But if they do, the father was very strict with them wanting them to learn how to be successful, but kinda doing it in a domineering manner.

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

[vacantgodling]

#20: Moira Dearborn

Pink is the color of passion, and you have a passion for everything you do. Everything you put your energy towards is top notch, but at some point you grow tired of the empty praises. Destruction isn’t enough—and you find there is more to life than it; that the real joys come from nurturing and bringing forth life; to show it joy and show it beauty. That’s what prompts you to leave; you’ve always been headstrong and you’ve known for far too long that your home is a loveless, empty shell. You don’t fight for glory, you fight for money—a commodity to build and raise something precious of your own.

“moira” is a diminutive of the goddess MUINENS, however it also means destiny or fate. “dearborn” can either mean brook of dear or be a combination name of an expected or desired birth.

29, cis female (she/her), romance: yes—she is in a relationship with jagoda arthea. occasionally they have karenza as an added party. sex: definitely, she’s tryna have kids y’all. preference: masculine (but mainly jagoda lol) but she's open to everything frfr.

similarly to her sibling, san, moira has bright pink hair—however it’s closer to a lighter, candyfloss color than magenta like san’s is. her eyes are also pink but they’re a darker shade, closer to red. she has full lips and a beguiling smile, and got their mother’s height, standing at 5’8”. though a talented HUNTER, moira prefers having more of a feminine physique so she’s spent more of her training in agility than strength, contrasting san. she’s also very well endowed.

as mentioned, she is a HUNTER, and is quite talented at the craft, even using the magic (vis) to make herself more powerful without having to rely solely on brute strength. most hunters, when they do use vis, use it as a poison or to paralyze opponents so they cannot escape their wrath. unlike san, moira only wields a whip however she does have several whips she rotates through; her spiked, nail whip is her favorite and the one she is most deadly with. she wears special gloves made of thick monster hide that protect her when she grabs hold of the whip with her hands.

it’s quite easy to get the wrong idea about moira at first, mostly due to her unwavering confidence and straightforward attitude. she is only aggressive when she needs to be, but her words never mince, and she always has an air of arrogance about her, which stems from the high self esteem she has. however, if you get to know moira, you realize that while prideful, she is a down to earth and loving person. she cares deeply for those in her circle, even her baby sister (despite san’s ire for her), and pushes those around her to be the best versions of themselves because she cares about them. she’s a natural leader and quite protective (especially of karenza and eryn), and she adores jagoda with her whole heart. the reason she decided to leave home to stay with her aunt in kingsburrow (and consequently she and san’s cousin citra) is because she recognized quite early on that her parents were neglectful, and she hated how they used her to try and be cruel to san. she hoped that by leaving, they would come to cherish san more and is sorry that it wasn’t the case. she isn’t always the best with being open to san, but she does love her sister and wants to reconcile if san will let her.

3 fun facts about them: she and jagoda want to have children and are working as guilders mostly to save up money so that they can buy a home and start their own family. she loves children with her whole heart and wants to make up for the mistakes her parents made when raising her and san—hoping that down the line she’ll have two daughters so she can teach them to love each other. though she is kind (underneath the surface) that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a short fuse — its kind of a family trait for better or worse; that fuse also lead to her egging san on during many occasions but not necessarily out of cruelty, though now older and wiser she realizes the impact her actions had on san. she’s actually tone deaf don’t let her sing Ever.

[acosmicdisappointment]

— ysla.

is that KYLIE VERZOSA? oh, no, that’s YSLA ALONSO, a TWENTY-NINE year old TRAVEL VLOGGER who uses SHE/HER pronouns. they currently live in VIÑA DEL MAR, and the character they identify with most is SOPHIE SHERIDAN FROM MAMMA MIA. hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas!

BASICS.

FULL NAME. ysla soleil alonso NICKNAME(S). ysla, ysa, lala (nickname she tells kids to use) AGE/BIRTHDAY/ZODIAC. 29 / september 7th / virgo SEXUALITY. heterosexual BIRTHPLACE. ilocos norte, philippines HEIGHT. 5’8” EYE COLOR. dark brown ILLNESSES/CONDITIONS. trying to heal through traveling TATTOOS/PIERCINGS/SCARS. standard lobe and upper lobe piercings, belly button piercing, a bouquet flowers drawn by her siblings on her inner arm (right) FC. kylie verzosa

PERSONALITY.

hardworking nurturing perfectionist self-critical emotional nitpicky

HER-STORY.

tw: mention of death and depression — Ysla grew up with her parents and eight brothers, four older and four younger, which made her the quintessential middle child. Despite the chaos of a large family, she maintained a close-knit bond with them, although at times they could be overwhelming. — As the only girl among her siblings, Ysla was both protected and challenged by her brothers. They were fiercely protective of her, always looking out for her well-being and making sure she felt safe and loved.  — However, being the only girl also meant that Ysla had to keep up with their antics and rough-and-tumble play. Ysla's bond with her brothers was unbreakable, shaped by a lifetime of shared experiences and unwavering support. — From a young age, Ysla knew she wanted to teach, a career path she pursued with unwavering determination. Graduating as the magna cum laude with a degree in education, she immediately became a preschool teacher, fulfilling her lifelong dream. — It was during her time as a teacher that Ysla developed a deep bond with Mirabel, one of her students. Mirabel often stayed late at school under Ysla's care due to her mother's demanding work schedule. Over time, Ysla not only became a trusted caregiver for Mirabel but also formed a close friendship with her mother, who appreciated Ysla's kindness and dedication. — Tragically, a hit and run accident took the lives of Mirabel and her mother, leaving Ysla and her family shattered. The mother and daughter were on the way to Ysla’s house when tragedy struck. The loss of her beloved student and friend plunged Ysla into a state of deep depression, and she struggled to cope with the void left by their absence. — It was during this dark period that Ysla stumbled upon a video of Mirabel taken by her mother expressing their desire to travel the world with her. Touched by their unfulfilled dream and inspired by their memory, Ysla made a life-changing decision.  — In honor of Mirabel's wish and as a tribute to her enduring bond with both mother and daughter, Ysla embarked on a journey to fulfill their dream, starting her own YouTube channel, Wander With Ysla, to document her global adventures. — At first, her family was hesitant about her traveling so far from home. However, when they saw how much joy it brought her, they eventually came around and wholeheartedly supported her decision. Ysla’s been in the region for about 3 weeks now and is always seen with her vlogging camera.

EXTRAS.

to read to see to listen

HEADCANONS.

— wears a butterfly necklace since it's mirabels's favorite (her comfort necklace tbh) — collects butterfly souvenirs from every place she’s visited and keeps them in a box dedicated for Mirabel — adores children and would want to have some of her own — has a knack for finding hidden gems and off-the-beaten-path destinations — is a food enthusiast and loves trying local dishes to learn more about a place and their culture — loves karaoke and would treat it like her own concert — a hopeless romantic at heart who believes in soulmates and true love — biggest travel inspiration is dua lipa — always wears a swimsuit beneath her clothes

WANTED CONNECTIONS/PLOTS.

coconut pals — people ysla would generally have a good time with. they definitely need to be open to being dragged to the nearest karaoke a reason to stay — ysla is on the constant move, maybe this person is the reason why she’ll finally choose to stay more tbd! dm’s are always open to plot

[fictionfixations]

I know what I look like to you | A/B/O | Tim Drake Fic

*quietly slides in with my no-actual-sex abo fic*

want an understanding of how the world works? (you can tell i thought about the omega part a whole while lMFAO)

---

CLASSES

Αα: ALPHA - The first class, or the “dominant” role. Generally having anger issues, or possessive over what they deem as theirs. They can also be noted as protectors of their family, or “pack”. Occasionally, they may naturally have ruts, or triggered/induced ruts. They can range from platonic (familial love, in which they’ll feel territorial and overprotective. Friends can also be included) to romantic (the more stereotypical description of ruts where they wish to mark their partner, to claim (See clarification on Page 6) them and the like. 

Ββ: BETA - The second class, normally the neutral, or passive role. They tend to be more in tune with their emotions, and take on more caretaker or managing roles. They’re usually the one in the pack with a level-headed mind, and care for the pack when the omega and/or alpha is occupied. 

Ωω: OMEGA - The last class, or the “submissive” role. They can be more shy and have a motherly personality (i.e. kind, nurturing, protective), though it doesn’t mean they are weak or vulnerable, because threatening the pack will trigger protective instincts, and they will bite. They aren’t usually in places of authority, many being stay-at-home mothers, and have the role of caring for the pack, as mothers would do. Like alphas, they have a version of ruts, called “heats”, which can also be naturally started, or triggered/induced. Platonic heats can cause them to be touchy, constantly hugging or cuddling. It makes them content to be near the scent of a packmate. Romantic heats on the other hand are purely sexual, making them hot and desiring an alpha to mate them. It’s mainly for breeding purposes, and can be triggered when an alpha has a romantic rut, or when both of their inner roles desire it, otherwise known as their inner ‘omega’ or inner ‘alpha’ (more information can be found on page 9).

The only exception is their first heat, in which they will become in tune with their inner omega, becoming overwhelmed by the desire for a cock, happening only when they reach maturity, usually decided by menstruation, otherwise known as when the body is preparing for pregnancy. Otherwise, it’ll happen when crushing on someone, near an overpowering alpha’s scent (it’ll instill pressuring feelings to ‘submit’, inadvertently triggering a heat in the process), or when they get claimed.

Do note that male omegas have been facing the threat of extinction (see more on page 4).

MALE OMEGAS

Male omegas have been facing near-extinction due to issues with reproduction. When they first became a thing, everyone had been in a panic, and therefore everything was unknown. First seen as a godsend to gay couples until their male partners couldn’t handle the strain.

The prevailing theory is that due to the fact that males don’t have reproducing organs like a female (the womb), they were unable to get the child out despite the fact that it was formed somehow, having to perform a c-section, leading to the subsequent death of the pregnant male. 

Now, the government has been prioritizing the safety of them, as time has gone on and our bodies have gone through changes to accommodate these new roles, such as knots or scents.

Protections can include trackers, bodyguards, even being put into witness protection if necessary. 

--

That was how the world worked and moved on.

Except.. This is the story of Timothy Drake. And he was a male omega. yEAHHHHH okay so i wrote this BEFORE there were actual prompts. in which because i was joining so many events and i wanted to get the closest done (which it was this because it was in june) so i dont have to rush it when i end up procrastinating im gonna pretend this somehow fits into medical professional or something like that because i have the science thingy. i dont know nearly enough terms to make it feel too big brain when just explaining basic concept its kind of an awkward read cause i think i went a little too all over the place idfk

honestly i enjoy smut as much as the next guy but theres this author i was reading of alpha/omega pairings, and the omega was all 'im independent, and i dont need an alpha or a mate!' alpha: *comes along* omega: im willing ot sign away all my rights to you and enjoy it when you enjoy me with dubious and sometimes VERY VERY dubious consent

sob. and then i thought 'hey what if male omegas nearly died cause of pregnancy or whatever' because i didnt really like it basically being used as an excuse to have a cunt for their favorite male character (or when they just use trans and kinda sexualize it in which, aAaahhh dysphoRIA IS THAT YOU because half the time they use like just certain words that pain me :'D) i honestly dont like pregnancy of any kind, especially not mpreg (maybe thats my own biases ;-;) but i also didnt really like the idea of slick because it.. okay well it doesnt technically count anymore because today i was watching phisnom's biology stream and it talked of this creature that used its hole to fuck, poop, breathe, and also there was this other thing that camped out in there which WHAT THE FU-- and its so fucking cursed sob

[menodoramoon]

Daybreak. SATO AU.

Summary: The Sun rises on the hotel room of Lord Apollo of Olympus. 1998. Menodora Perhonen is there as well. A "morning after" story.

Content Warnings: talks about sex. Nothing graphic.

---

"You wear your loneliness on your sleeve," he'd said to her as the sun rose.

Despite the early hour and their late turn in, they were both awake, watching the first rays of the sun poke through the blinds.

He strokes her hair as she ponders his words, twisting his fingers in her messy, loose waves.

His room. His hotel room, she's reminded, scanning the walls for anything personal. Anything to indicate that, yes, last night, she had laid in the sheets with a god.

They'd stayed up nearly all night, talking and making love and then falling into fingers drumming on arms and then falling into sleep with the dawn breaking in only a few hours time.

Her messy hair lay fanned out behind her, like a trail of clouds or some poetry he'd said.

He was the god of poetry, and every praise he'd given her sounded like some romantic hymn. She had been confused by it. But more importantly, she'd felt seen.

She'd looked at him, dazed. Swooning even? She was nineteen, and somehow in love while not being so at all.

Aphrodite has cursed me, she thinks ruefully as he rises. And in her heart, she asks herself if she wants him to stay.

Would he be summoned to drive some chariot across the sky with the dawn, or had she crossed her deities. That was an offense at camp. Probably in the world, too.

She's interrupted from her musings by the sound of his moving about. She hadn't even realized he'd left her side.

A coffee mug in hand -- how did he get that? -- he turns to her. Had he heard her thoughts? It would not surprise her.

And then she wonders if she's supposed to crawl from the bed and rise with the sun god.

Her brown eyes meet his and all at once, those intense orbs soften.

She hates the idea of calling eyes orbs, but in the case of the sun god, it felt fitting. They were brown, no gold, and then a blue. Gods and their forms shifted and changed, she'd noticed it the few times she'd be privileged enough to see them.

"Lord Apollo," Menodora says after a moment, reverent, beginning to rise, though still dazed and disoriented.

He raises a hand, stilling her in a single gesture. Then brings her the coffee. When she raises it to her lips, she can taste the cream of it, but no sugar. How she always took it.

She might have asked how he knew, but the answer would be evident. And simple. And Menodora would feel foolish for having asked.

Menodora wonders what he could possibly see in a nineteen year old demigod, a daughter of Iris. Wasn't she too plain, herself? Too unremarkable? Too un-functional? A child of a minor god with very little power and not too much prowess.

(She was clerking at a concert hall a mile away from her mother's home for goodness sake!)

Apollo sighs, shakes his head. When she hazes at him, away from the rim of the mug, she sees his face. Kind. Loving?

No, there must be no love for her. She's had a fling or two, scandalous things. Nothing like this.

Nothing that made her feel like her sense of light and color was so far removed, and it was only sensations and poetry and epiphany again and again whenever they spoke or kissed or--

But this was a god, it was doomed not to last.

"Do you always rise this early?" Apollo asks, staring out the window at the rays of a brand new day.

Menodora finishes her small sip and looks back at him. "If I can. Sometimes I've worked late and I might sleep later, but for the most part … "

She trails off. He nods.

He must understand. It's always been her nature.

(Something that, in some other life, would never be true. It was nurture more than anything that made her so.)

"Do you want me to go?" Menodora asks after a long pause, temporarily setting down the mug and taking her blouse from the nearby chair. She had been lucky enough to wear a slip under her work clothes, which functioned perfectly well as a night gown.

Apollo, this morning, was already dressed. Menodora knew better than to ask how.

"I want you to do what you would like, Menodora."

It stalls her. What did she like.

Rainbows? Flowers? Family and peace and the idea of safety?

For what purpose was he asking?

He regards her thoughts and shakes his head.

"I mean to ask ... What is it that you want?"

Menodora's mind races suddenly. What was it that she wanted? Did he think she wanted some sort of favor for their time? Was he asking what she wanted to do next, to stay or go?

The answer though, that she gives, though is as plain as she is. "I don't know."

They exist in a silence for a moment, Menodora's eyes wide, because she does not know what to say. And, in a way, doesn't know what he wants to hear.

Does he want to fall back into bed with her, kiss her in his element. In the sunshine. To see her face with ease? Or was it that he grew tired of her, and was only being polite and offering her some dignity before he requested her to go?

The question he asks next, breeching the silence, feels heavy, though all there is in his face was care.

"Who are you, Menodora?"

Did he not know already? He was a god, after all. And, besides, he'd known her name. Hummed it softly into her neck between breathless kisses and little nothings.

She recites, as she always did when asked by a divinity, "Menodora Perhonen. Daughter of the mortal Comitessa Perhonen, and a child of Cabin fourt--"

He exhales a short laugh, and she quiets. "No, I had asked 'whi are you,'" Apollo presses, perhaps slightly amused. Though mostly curious, she notes. Menodora doesn't know what he means. Her brown raises, confused. "I didn't ask your parentage," he clarifies.

It's at that moment that Menodora stops. Quiets. Confused. Was that not the most important thing to a god? What was it she could do, what ranking did she have? Was she worth another second of thought for her family line?

Her brown eyes, she knows, are wide, and she is searching for an answer that will not present itself.

With that look, he nods all the same.

Throws on a jacket -- denim, with 60s and 70s patches about the sun -- and glances at the door. She figures he's to leave. Perhaps he doesn't want to see her when he returns?

The moment has shifted.

Menodora wonders if now is the time to go. She hastily throws on the blouse and buttons it, still under his pensive watch, and has almost zippered her skirt when he says, "I'll have breakfast up shortly. Don't tell me… Waffles with strawberries and a dallop of whipped cream?"

Menodora nods, though no words -- of questions or thanks -- come to her.

Apollo nods in return.

"I'm off to hunt and gather," he teases. "Don't tell my sister, that's her thing. And don't go. Please. I like you. I'd like to at least spend the morning with you."

It's fond. It's sweet. Menodora's heart skips.

Without smile or frown, he leaves. And Mendoora is only left with her thoughts and the rising run.

Who was she?

She sips at her coffee, letting the cream tickle her top lip.

The answer comes clear to her, yet when it echoes in her mind's eye, it does not ring painfully. There's a peace to it that she cannot describe.

"I am Menodora Perhonen…" she begins to herself, "And for all that I am, I don't get know."

[uncloseted]

what are your thoughts on evolutionary psychology? My class has me slightly convinced but at the same time, its hard for me to agree because i feel like people co opt these ideas to demoralize people who arent the fittest for reporduction in a physical or material sense, so i dont really know!

I don't care for it. At its best, it's an unproveable discipline with some interesting ideas about why humans have developed the ability to have certain psychological traits. But more often, I think it's used as a way for people to maintain the status quo and excuse their own actions. When I see evolutionary psychology, it's usually in the context of, "well women are supposed to be stay at home mothers because their brains are evolved to take care of babies" or "I can't help that I've cheated on every girlfriend I've ever had, men just aren't evolved for monogamy, but it's unnatural and gross when women cheat because they're supposed to be monogamous" or "humans are just biologically programmed to be selfish". It's never, like, "present-day humans have an intrinsic hunger for salty and sweet tastes because things with those qualities were valuable to early humans being able to continue to live," or "homosexuality is evolutionarily advantageous because people who don't have children themselves will provide extra resources to the children of their close relatives," or, "humans have evolved to form community and take care of the weakest members of their group" or whatever.

While I think that the basic assumption of evolutionary psychology- that, like the rest of our bodies, our brains have evolved traits that allow us to better survive in our given environments- makes a lot of sense, I think there are some major issues with the field of evolutionary psychology in general. My biggest problem with it is that it's such a speculative topic that to me it feels wrong to treat it as a science. We really have very little idea of what the environment homo sapiens evolved in was like, so it's hard to make any kind of informed guess as to what psychological phenomena would be evolutionarily advantageous. Because of that, the hypotheses that evolutionary psychology puts forth are very difficult or impossible to test and to validate.

Additionally, I think that as a field, evolutionary psychology puts too much emphasis on "nature" and doesn't spend enough time considering how "nurture" impacts the way our psychology develops. Our genes may provide the framework for the kinds of psychological phenomena that are possible for us, but our environment and our culture and our lived experiences determine which of those genes express themselves and how, and how we act in a larger sense, irrespective of our genetic makeup. It also seems to want to make generalizations about all humans, despite the fact that different groups of humans evolved in very different environments, so it would make sense for some groups to have psychological traits that others don't.

There's a pretty good rundown of other criticism of evolutionary psychology here if you're interested, but those are the biggest issues that I have with it personally.

Edit: also, I want to add that even if everything evolutionary psychologists are hypothesizing ends up being true, those findings would only be true at a population level. There's so much genetic variance from person to person and cultural influence on behavior that assumptions about any specific person based on those findings will probably be wrong. These ideas are interesting, but not really applicable on a day-to-day basis. I think we get into hot water when we start treating people as if they're a statistic like that.

[aedee]

Blooming In My Social Soil: How Society and Culture Affect Me

This is the third entry to my e-journal. I am Donna, and to know me better, you can scroll through my past posts!

Did I ever mention that I am the eldest daughter with two eldest brothers? It was fun, really; the power dynamics, the favour, the role model until the storm of expectations and pressure came in. As they say, mothers loved their sons and raised their daughters. raised their daughters in a way that society would accept them. Due to my gender, I am expected to take on more responsibility domestically, act as mahinhin as possible, talk as a lady would sound, and even sit demurely. Even argued that these would make me get a husband, to whom I can dedicate my life, a traditional tender Maria Clara, a true epitome of dalagang Filipina. If you are familiar with the GMA TV Series Maria Clara at Ibarra, you will notice why I identify myself as Klay, Barbie Forteza's role.

I was kind of the center of attention and a main character in the family because I was the first granddaughter, especially to my paternal grandmother, nanay Angge. I'm very sure that practically everything I did was captured on a digital camera, including my first time using a walker, standing up for the first time, taking my first picture, and even eating things like my uncle's phone! How thrilled was my nanay? Well, she was the one who got me baptised!

Bronfenbrenner's Ecological Systems model explains how my family shaped my early years. My closest circle (microsystem) included my parents, grandmother, brothers, and aunt/uncle. The large age gap between me and my brother Roden placed him in my mesosystem, connecting our immediate environments. My mom's stories about their playful competition to babysit me illustrate this early influence. Though playful, it showed their nurturing instincts, even if it lessened as I became more independent.

In my first years upon my birth, my family fostered a strong sense of security and support for my development. My father provided stability while working, and my mother, a full-time homemaker, showered me and my three siblings with affection and full attention. Her close circle of friends, my Ninangs, who constantly doted on me, also enriched my early years. This focus on family, my microsystem, a core value in Filipino culture, extended beyond our immediate household. My grandmother, aunt, and uncle lived in the same compound as us and actively participated in my upbringing, ensuring I was never far from the helping hand of a relative. Even traditional child-rearing practices, like prioritizing a mother's immediate response to my needs, reflected this cultural emphasis on close bonds. Thus, I can say that the constant support and affection built by my microsystem and mesosystem laid the foundation for the strong relationships I cherish today. However, despite the loving environment of my childhood, I noticed that a seed of gender inequality or gender role norms was unknowingly ingrained. My father's decision for my mother to stay home, while he provided financially, ingrained in me the traditional idea of gender roles. This aligns with the feminist theory when it comes to the domestic sphere, which looks at how unpaid domestic labour, or the labour of love, often performed by women, is undervalued and most of the time, overlooked, compared to paid work. While I appreciate the security and attention my mother's full-time dedication provided, feminist theory opened my eyes and allowed me to challenge these norms. It allows me to recognize that both parents can be successful breadwinners and care providers, cultivating a more equitable and fulfilling family dynamic within the microsystem and mesosystem. That understanding gives me an opportunity to envision a moment when personal strengths and preferences, rather than gender, will determine household duties and professional goals. It is important to note that all I want is to be independent and financially secure on my own; I don't even want to start my own family, not anytime soon, as what my mother often prepares me for. I am aware that many people still live by the sexist notion that having children is the essence of being a woman, but I believe that women can influence society in a variety of other ways owing to our intellectual capacity and gracious hearts. Like Klay, a character who redefined femininity, I am a true Filipina but a modern Maria Clara, and no stereotypes can hold me back from embracing my heritage while forging my own path.

Growing up in a Filipino-based culture has instilled a unique blend of strong mindset and challenges in my journey of personal growth. The phrase "bahala na, may plano si Lord" gives off a positive approach to adversity. I see it as a cultural coping mechanism that allows me to believe that a higher being will help me, thus making me persevere even in difficult situations (do your best, God will do the rest!). This quality has undoubtedly played a role in my journey in the academe. When faced with the slightly unexpected challenge of being placed on the unfitting, technically my fault, academic track for my dream career as a flight attendant, I channelled my "bahala na, may plano si Lord" spirit. The most difficult part of my educational endeavour happened when I entered senior high school. I thought that the best way to be a Flight Attendant was to pursue the academic track, HUMSS. Little did I know that the ABM strand was more appropriate, as it is under the Business and Management field. Naturally, after learning this, I pleaded and asked the institution if I could shift, but because of the strict management, nothing happened. I still remember the Prefect of Discipline's remarks on me; he was one of the terror teachers there, so imagine the words delivered loudly I heard! Knowing that there was not much of a choice, my parents made me choose between two things: pursue HUMSS or take a year off. I chose HUMSS and graduated as the overall rank 4 in the whole batch, ranked third in our strand, and second in our class, a testament to my ability to adapt, overcome, and trust the process (AKA God's plan). True enough, it is actually staying in this course that made me decide to pursue the Psychology course, which made me enter the prestigious university, the University of the Philippines.

On the other hand, the famous Filipino culture's inclination to romanticize resilience may also be an unhealthy way of reasoning. There were moments in my life when I felt like accepting the bare minimum and underappreciation might result from the expectation to just get by. I found changing courses was not an easy option in the strict academic system. Even though I eventually succeeded at HUMSS, this experience gave me the will to fight for the things I want. The stage of acceptance took a long time. I honestly feel the strand was not initially an attractive path for me until I found a network of support that taught me to be happy and made me realize that the strand is afterall, worth pursuing.

True enough, I excelled in this course, and I can proudly say that I belong in the HUMSS strand; I am a HUMANISTA. The challenge for my goals was one of the factors in my decision to pursue a degree in psychology. My interest in social dynamics and human behavior was sparked by my success in HUMSS, given our lots of outside activities involving people. I decided to study psychology because of this passion as well as the conclusion that the course you graduate from does not necessarily define your eligibility to apply to an airline—although it may be an advantage to be in ABM.

My growth was fostered by my heritage, and the society and culture I grew up in undoubtedly had an impact on me, but I am also learning to achieve a balance between my known traditions and beliefs and my goals as I blossom into a career woman who defies limitations.

[feefeefeena]

Crybaby Whims - Sims 3 conversion ORIGINALLY BY Draeyad!!! (GEN 1-5)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ DOLLHOUSE☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 1

aspiration: surrounded by family

career: none at first, politician as adult

traits: perfectionist, nurturing, family oriented, neurotic, hopeless romantic

colors: yellow &white

— everyone thinks that we’re perfect, please don’t let them look through the curtains —

you grew up a perfect white picket fence life in a perfect home. perfect parents, perfect siblings, perfect grades. nothing was ever out of place. or was it? your memory is a little jaded, it seems. maybe, you got it all wrong. you were taught father builds the home and mother maintains it. but how was dad making money again? jeeze, you can’t remember. did you choose to forget? and like the perfect sim you are, you fell in love in high school with the perfect person. or, you thought they were perfect until you saw them kissing your sibling. and only a few years later, they got married. you weren’t even invited to the wedding. no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

you were perfect. where did it go wrong?

you promised you’d keep to your mother’s beliefs. you married young (18 to be exact) and took care of your spouse, of your home. but your ex was always hanging around your siblings house. and you guys may have accidentally hooked up. and now you guys are pregnant, each having a different spouse.

— is it weird to coparent with your siblings spouse? should you keep seeing your ex? what about your partner? will they catch you cheating? will you tell them the truth or continue living a lie?

— ♡ have a high school sweat heart you start on bad terms with (cheat this or just have them yell at each other a lot)

— ♡ have a very caring spouse who you’re madly in love with

— ♡ have a perfect white picket fence home with your spouse

— ♡ slowly rebuild a relationship with your ex

— ♡ start hooking up with your ex and one of you gets pregnant

— ♡ raise the child under your roof

— ♡ have three more children with your spouse

— ♡ divorce your spouse as an adult and take all the children

— ♡ stop being a stay at home parent and join the politician career

— ♡ master aspiration.

— ♡ will you continue seeing your ex?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ BOMBS ON MONDAY MORNING ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 2

aspiration: the perfect garden

career: science (because gardening, but you could work as a freelance gardener too)

traits: unflirty, loves the outdoors, excitable, green thumb, vegetarian

colors: white &pink

— pinky promise, i’ll still love your garden. even with no flowers. —

love isn’t real. it doesn’t feel real. you’re not even sure who your real other parent is. your parents were always too busy messing around and barely found time for you and your siblings. you basically swore off love, thinking it only caused problems. it’s not like it mattered anyway. you all died in the end. until you met someone at a coffee shop who shared your love for the outdoors. it was rare meeting anyone as passionate as you. at first, you rejected any and all attempts to go on a date with this person. but wow, they kind of insisted on it. so you decided to humor them and despite your unflirty ways, they liked you. it was a strange feeling but it made you fall madly in love for the first time.

and then they died.

see, you knew this would happen. nothing can ever be sunshine and daisies. it’s too much to ask. but after stumbling across some pomegranate seeds, you got an idea. it’s not like there was anyone else for you in this world. was it wrong to bring back a dead person?

— will your relationship be sustainable with someone who is back from the dead? was it cruel to bring them back in the first place? can you continue to love them as they are?

— ♡ have a dead lover with the traits loves the outdoors, loner, vegetarian (rest optional)

— ♡ plant a pomegranate garden in your backyard

— ♡ sell flowers as a side gig

— ♡ create a death flower

— ♡ bring back your dead lover, but change their traits to loner, brooding and evil (cas.fulleditmode)

— ♡ have children (as many as you want)

— ♡ master gardener skill

— ♡ have partner join the criminal career after resurrection

— ♡ complete freelance botanist aspiration

— ♡ how will you keep this relationship alive?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ CLASSFIGHT ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 3

aspiration - the emperorof evil

career - criminal

traits: evil, brave, computer whiz, rebellious, kleptomaniac

colors - pink &orange

— no, no, no. don’t you choke. daddy chimed in, go for the throat. —

having an evil parent in the mafia was no joke. and oh, did you admire them for all their hard work. i mean, they literally came back from the dead. how cool is that? you wanted to be like them and would do whatever it took to gain their approval. your grades were awful, your friends were the worst and your parents got weekly phone calls from school about you. it was a nice feeling. you even met a partner just like you and you felt inseparable. kind of like a modern bonnie & clyde minus the bad parts like dying in a hail of bullets. that’s bad.

when you had your first and only child, you didn’t take much interest in them, though.

it wasn’t their fault, you just had a crime organization to run. so your parent, the non evil one, mostly raised them. and maybe that was for the best. you didn’t have much parental instinct and who knows how messed up they might have turned out if you raised them. all’s well that ends well.

— how long can you keep up this lifestyle before it catches up with you? Are you going to regret ignoring your child? or worse, will you regret not conforming to a normal life?

— ♡ get terrible grades in school

— ♡ meet and fall in love with a sim that has the exact same traits as yours

— ♡ have three friends, all with an evil trait

— ♡ get pregnant but take no time off

— ♡ have your parents move in to help take care of the baby themselves (cheat a longer lifespan if needed)

— ♡ maintain a low relationship with your child

— ♡ have a terrible reputation

— ♡ max out mischief skill

— ♡ reach top of criminal career

— ♡ will you ever have a good relationship with your child?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ TRAININGWHEELS ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 4

aspiration: Professional Author

career: journalist

traits: hopeless romantic, genius, bookworm, dramatic, social butterfly

colors - orange &red

— fully undressed, no training wheels left for you. and i’ll pull them off for you. —

unlike your grandparent that raised you, you were a believer in love. love at first sight, opposites attract, enemies to lovers. if it was a love trope, you believed in it. you pretty much devoted your life to the idea of love. so when you met the one, just like in all the obscure fanfiction you read, they swept you off your feet. you would do anything in the world to be with them. every hour of every day. you just couldn’t get enough of them. your life felt perfect when you were with them and nothing in this world could make you feel bad again.

until they dumped your ass.

you spent the better half of your breakup keyboard smashing new fanfic titles about loveless relationships while downing a whole tub of ben & jerry’s. and really, who could blame you? that was rough. and thus, the baddies club was originated. a club of three pretty best friends, all single, and didn’t need no damn relationship. or did you?

— is this the life you’ve been dreaming of? or are you still a hopeful romantic at heart, waiting on someone to come take you away? but how would your besties feel if they knew?

— ♡ go through a breakup with your significant other

— ♡ write three books with hateful titles about relationships

— ♡ switch aspiration to leader of the pack

— ♡ start a club of singles and get only two pretty best friends to join

— ♡ develop an extremely close bond with your two new friends

— ♡ go out with your besties every friday night

— ♡ host a movie night on saturdays

— ♡ max out writing skill

— ♡ Complete Aspiration

— ♡ move your besties in with you and decide to adopt and raise a child together

— ♡ will you ever find love again or are you and your besties true soulmates for life?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ PITY PARTY ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 5

aspiration: heartbreaker

career: stylist

traits: commitment issues, jealous, over-emotional, athletic, ambitious, diva

colors - red &black

— it’s my party, and i’ll cry if i want to. i’ll cry until the candles burn down this place. —

you’re a brat. it’s as simple as that, really. with so many people watching over you while growing up, it was rare you didn’t get what you wanted. and you were always kinda jealous of how smart your parent was. they were just - so good at everything. and all you really had was beauty. who cares about that crap? beauty fades. well, it was really your only defining attribute so might as well make the best of it while you could. you just wished people liked you for you and not because you were extremely smoking hot.

well, then. if you can’t be happy, no one can. that’s a principle you always lived by.

you became a prolific fashionista and a professional life ruiner. not only did you ruin marriages, you broke hearts of your own lovers. it just felt so dang good to be in control. until - uh oh. you met a gym rat and now you can’t stop thinking about their perfect eyes. no, this can’t be happening. you don’t fall in love. who the hell do they think they are, walking into your life like that? better make them pay.

— are you really falling in love that easily? or is it just a fluke? will you keep ruining lives forever or do you think it may be time to settle down?

— ♡ go jog every morning

— ♡ be enemies with every sim as gorgeous as your sim you come across

— ♡ meet a super attractive sim at the gym

— ♡ make them fall in love with you and break up with them

— ♡ complete aspiration

— ♡ rekindle old flame with sim you met at the gym

— ♡ max fitness skill

— ♡ have identical same gender twins with gym sim (you can cheat this if needed)

— ♡ will you put your past behind you and accept love into your life?

[slasherhaven]

I dont think ive see smth like this in your blog and im really sorry if im crossing a line, you dont have to do this but if you could, could you do vincent and any other slashers youd like with a unplanned pregnant s/o? Like they werent expecting it, how would they react? Im sorry again if this is too specific and out of your comfort zone!

The Slashers’ and their S/O reacting to an unplanned pregnancy:

Thomas Hewitt

A pregnancy can only be good news to Thomas (unless you know it’s going to put your health at risk).

He noticed that something wasn’t right but you both just thought you were sick. It was Luda May that pulled you to the side, telling you that you might be pregnant.

But you both agreed to not tell Thomas until you had taken a test and were positive, you didn’t want him to freak out over nothing.

When you tell him, you are nervous about his reaction since neither of you had talked about it. Even if Luda May had been hinting about grandchildren.

But as soon as you tell Thomas that you’re having his child, he is overjoyed!

He wants to be a father, to have a little family of his own. So what if it wasn’t planned? That doesn’t matter, he still wants this.

He’s smiling, placing a large hand on your stomach (even though you aren’t showing yet).

If you’re still worried about this unexpected turn of events, he would be there to comfort you and reassure you. Don’t worry, Y/n. He’s going to take good care of you and your child.

Michael Myers

You had every reason to be nervous about telling Michael about your pregnancy. You loved him, you really did, and you knew that he loved you but he wasn’t the most...nurturing person.

You really didn’t know what he would think or how he would react. 

Even if you don’t think he’s the monster people think he is, a part of you worries that he’d just leave if he decided this wasn’t what he wanted.

But you had to tell him, he was going to find out eventually anyway.

Just as usual, your announcement is met with stoicism. The emotionless mask doesn’t help either. But this is one of the main reasons he wears the mask, so nobody can guess what he is thinking.

He wonders if you’re scared that they’ll turn out like him. Would you love them anyway, just like you love him?

He decides that he’s not going to be a good father (whether that’s true or not is a possibly debatable) but he also decides that he is staying put.

You’re going to be caring for this child, right? 

You do notice that he’s much more gentle with you at all times. Maybe he cares more than he likes to show...

Jason Voorhees

You weren’t all that nervous about telling Jason about the pregnancy, you knew he would be there for you both and you knew he would be a good father.

When you told him, Jason definitely had to sit down. You’re pregnant? You’re both having a child. 

This is big news! His mother would be so proud!

After wrapping his head around it, Jason will pull you into an embrace. He’s going to be good for you, Y/n!

He hadn’t thought about starting a family with you until now but he quickly decides that he likes the idea lot. He likes the idea of raising a child with you, of being a father. 

And he’s going to do his absolute best to be the best father for his child. He’s excited to be taking this step with you.

Time to babyproof the cabin!

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms had noticed that something was right, he thought that you were sick. You did at first but eventually you realised what might actually be happening. So, you got a pregnancy test in the next delivery.

You didn’t want to say anything to Brahms until you were completely sure.

Turns out, you were pregnant and now you had to tell Brahms.

He’s not too pleased at first...neither of you had talked about this, he hadn’t even thought about having children. He doesn’t like surprises and he doesn’t like that he’s going to have to compete for your attention.

He might even sulk about it but he’ll slowly come around to it.

You’re having his child...you’re going to be parents...together...maybe this isn’t so bad.

He definitely needs some time to warm up to the idea but he will eventually, probably reluctantly apologising for how he acted.

Bo Sinclair

Haha, good joke...

...you are joking right? Right, Y/n?!

Well...okay, he guesses. It’s not like he could do anything about it now.

He’s going to pull away from you slightly at first, because he’s doubting his own capabilities as a father. He isn’t meant to have a partner, he isn’t meant to have a kids, a family, any of this...and yet here you were.

He stop pulling away eventually and make up for it. However, he becomes more attentive, more protective. Is pretty much going to try to turn you into a housewife type of partner. 

But it’s not like he’s going to be doing all the chores just because you’re pregnant.

If you’re down for that, great! If not, just tell him to relax. You’re pregnant, not dying. 

He’ll ‘deal with it’ but warms up to the idea more and more as the pregnancy progresses.

Vincent Sinclair

Is he surprised and worried about his abilities as a father? Completely. 

Is he going to let that get in the way of doing the best he can? Definitely not.

He’s in awe of you. He loves you so much and you love him, you’re going to have his child...

Just places his hands on your stomach even though you’re not showing yet, there is a baby in there, his baby. God, he loves you so much.

He hadn’t thought about children, this definitely wasn’t planned but if he was given the choice to change it, he wouldn’t even consider it.

He going to be pretty anxious about it though. Both for the future and wondering if his child will like him, but also for the present. He’s so worried about you getting hurt, he fusses over you all the time, but it’s sweet.

Lester Sinclair

You told him just after you found out, when he had come home and didn’t have anything else to distract him. You could just sit down and tell him and the two of you could talk about it for as long as you needed too.

Gets a little frantic when you tell him.

First he’s pulling you into a kiss because: this is great news! He’s going to be a dad! And you’re the one having his baby! He couldn’t be more thrilled!

But then he’s holding you at arms length, eyes wide as he asks you if he can do this.

He goes through every emotion in the book in under a minute. Just let him go through it and once he’s calmed down, assure him that he’s going to be a great dad.

Because he will be!!!

Bubba Sawyer

Raising a child in the Sawyer household would be chaotic to say the least and that was probably the main cause of your anxiety, since you knew Bubba would try his absolute best to be an amazing father and to be there for you.

You need to collect yourself before you tell him, because you’re going to need to calm him down and reassure him.

When you tell him, he is going to freak out a little. He’s just worried about what this means, are you going to be okay, is he going to be a good father, this house isn’t safe for a child!

Once you’ve calmed him down, he’ll actually be pretty excited about the idea of having a child.

The two of you will have your own little family! 

He’s going to give you lots of hugs and kisses while babbling happily, he loves you so much and can’t wait to have this baby now!

Billy Lenz

You knew this was going to be messy. Billy hadn’t exactly shown many signs of responsibility at all and he doesn’t really seem like the fatherly type. Not that he doesn’t have the love to give, you know he does. Just the idea of him raising a child...it’s not something that either of you considered.

But you were definitely pregnant, it was definitely Billy’s baby, and you were definitely going to have to tell him.

When you do tell him, he panics.

He can’t be a father! What?!

Yeah, he’s really freaking out. You’re going to have to comfort him and calm him down, assuring him that everything is going to be okay.

Billy’s just kind of rolling with punches. He really doesn’t know how he’s going to be a father but he loves you so much, so this is just something you’re going to do together. 

He figures that as long as you’re there, he’ll be okay, you’ll make sure that everything is okay. 

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Yes, you were nervous to tell him about the pregnancy. You had no idea how he would feel or what he would think.

But, of course you had to tell him before he found out some other way.

You weren’t even surprised when he barely reacted. He was thinking, you knew that, so you gave him a moment. This whole thing was a surprise for both of you.

“I had my suspicions” well, that wasn’t the response you were expecting. 

But of course he noticed the little changes in you. Your fatigue, any sickness you had been feeling. He knew the signs, he already suspected that you were pregnant. So, thankfully, it wasn’t a complete surprise to him.

You’ll never know exactly how he felt when he first started suspecting pregnancy but by the time you tell him about it, he’s already come to terms with it.

(He’s also aware that this would be good for keeping up appearances. He loves you, he does, but he can’t help that his mind often wanders to more logical pros and cons of things)

He gets a little...overbearing, but it’s honestly nice to get all that extra attention from him.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

You’re understandably nervous about telling Jesse, unsure of how he would react and already knowing about his past.

And when you do tell him...yeah, it brings back some less than happy memories. The last time he was going to have a child...well, it didn’t end well.

But you’re different. You know about what he does and you love him despite it. If you want to bring this child into the world, you know completely who they’re father would be and you’d love them anyway.

(Like with Asa, it would be undeniably good for his image, having a spouse and a child, but that’s not something that he’s making decisions based on when it comes to you)

It’s not always easy to throw off Jesse but this did it, and you’re just waiting for his reaction nervously.

Of course, he doesn’t say anything, but he guides you towards him. A hand resting on your stomach as he presses a kiss to your forehead. He’s telling you that he’s okay with this if you are.

Otis Driftwood

You’re not wrong for being a little nervous to tell him or have a child in the Firefly household at all.

I can completely see why you think he might react badly.

However, when you do tell him, he’s actually pretty calm. Sure, he’s surprised, but he takes it well.

Admittedly, he never thought about having kids, and if he did he might have even decided that he wasn’t interested in having them.

But you’re pregnant, you’re both having this child, and that’s okay.

He’ll pull you into him, smirking as he says something along the lines of “so we’re going to be parents, huh?” he’s a little surprised when you just pull him into a relieved hug, but returns it.

He’ll raise them ‘right’, whatever he considers to be right.

All he promises you is that he is going to be a much better parent than his were. That’s it, that’s all he wants to be and he will be.

Yautja (Predator) 

You find out at the exact same time. As soon as you start throwing up or just not feeling right, he’s taking you to get some medical attention.

And the medic tells you that you’re pregnant, as blunt as Yautja’s are.

Your mate is overjoyed. This is great news! 

Even if the two of you weren’t planning this, he still loves the thought of you carrying his child, of you having his child. Yeah, this definitely isn’t bad news to him.

But he understands if you’re kinda freaking out about this, it was a surprise to you both.

Still, he’s going to be right there for you. Super involved and supportive, assuring you that you’re going to have the best medical care (better than anything you could get on earth). It’s all going to be fine.

Gets ten times more protective, clingy, and affectionate.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

Tags:

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface. 

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion. 

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan. 

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way. 

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness. 

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound. 

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up." 

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though." 

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong. 

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up." 

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives. 

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over." 

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly. 

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners. 

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort. 

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day. 

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot. 

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated. 

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself. 

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.  

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could. 

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind. 

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn. 

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre. 

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor. 

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened. 

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you. 

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress. 

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands. 

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment. 

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night. 

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed. 

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band. 

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor. 

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused. 

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis​ @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval 

[redphlox]

The Todorokis and the Takamis

Hello hello hello! Okay, so the fan translated chapter of BNHA 299 came out and I’m drowning in a downpour of feelings and parallels. So, below this cut, I’ll discuss parallels between Shouto and Hawks, Hawks and Endeavor, the Todoroki siblings and Keigo, and Rei and Tomie. I’ll also comment on the realistic depiction of domestic abuse survivors and dysfunctional family dynamics within the manga. Thanks in advance for reading!

The only hero Shouto probably had been exposed to as a child because he was isolated was his own dad, who abused his family. Shouto didn't want to be a hero because, as he had experienced personally, heroes were bad people who hurt their loved ones. The fire quirk he inherited from his father was something that hurt others. He had no other frame of reference for the fire quirk; his mother, who was kind and loving, had an ice quirk, Natsuo and Fuyumi had an ice quirk, and Touya (if Shouto even has memories of this) was being hurt by his own fire quirk. No wonder five year old Shouto was fearful of his left side and the thought of becoming a hero.

But that changed when Rei introduced him to All Might via a television recording she showed him in secret. Shouto learned that his father wasn’t representative of all heroes. Not all heroes hurt their families, and this meant Shouto’s fire quirk was his to use for good. He realized his dad was, ironically, a bad hero, and that it was okay to want to be a hero because Shouto would be a good one. Even if Shouto forgot this lesson in the years after Rei was hospitalized, the memory was there and rekindled during the sports festival. Shouto truly does believe in heroes because he’s seen proof of it in All Might, who indirectly saved Shouto and his belief in heroes just by being himself on that television show. Shouto also believes in heroes because he believes in himself - he’s a kind person, and he wants to be a kind hero. That’s why he chose his hero name to be his given name: Shouto.

Hawks, like Shouto, was also isolated from the world. He didn't have any interaction with or exposure to heroes except for on television. His father was physically and mentally abusive, and his mother emotionally distant as a result of domestic abuse. When Endeavor, a hero Hawks had a plushie of because his mom had given it to him in secret, indirectly saved him from an abusive household by arresting his father, Hawks started believing in heroes. They were real, and he was proof people could be saved because he hadn’t even been asking for help and Endeavor did it anyway. The plushie his mom had gotten him to play with as a substitute for not being able to go outside, the one Hawks held onto for comfort when he felt sad and alone, came “alive” and saved him. 

But Hawks was still in a bad situation because his mother's mental health wasn't in the best state after years of enduring domestic abuse. Hawks’ mother Tomie learned to view Hawks as the chain between herself and the Thief Takami. She might have been stuck in a "stay together for the kid" situation, coupled with financial instability and, on Takami's part, a begrudging sense of social responsibility to help raise the kid he fathered. Tomie learned to associate Takami’s feathers with pain, and because Hawks has feathers like his father and the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, she says, “you’re his son, aren’t you?” 

But Hawks soon finds good in the world and good in himself when he saves people during that accident. By saving others, he has saved himself without even intending to. The commission essentially takes him away from his mother who, because to her mental instability due to years of abuse, couldn’t raise him or nurture him. After abandoning his name, Hawks held on to Endeavor as a source of inspiration. Hawks had an idol he could look up to and be like as he trained at the commission. Endeavor was an example of how to stay strong and never lose hope. After all, everyone knew it would be pointless to try and surpass All Might but Endeavor kept trying anyway, despite the impossibilities. Young Hawks admired that because he was stuck in a similar situation - he never even dared to hope his life would get better until Endeavor arrested Takami the Thief. So to this day, Hawks idolizes Endeavor the hero.

Hawks, as an outsider to the Todoroki family, doesn’t know what they have endured. He hasn’t been around Shouto much, but from what he has seen, he thinks Shouto admires Endeavor the hero the same way Hawks does. It’s not an incorrect statement, because Shouto does recognize that Endeavor the hero is great, but it’s not a correct statement either. Shouto has the ability to separate Endeavor from Enji. Shouto wants to see what Enji the father has the potential to become now that Enji wants to atone, and even that seems to be for his sister’s sake, for her dream of having a family. Even Endeavor thought the same thing until Shouto makes it clear he’s not forgiven.

But Hawks doesn’t know this. Hawks probably assumes that because Shouto accepted interning with Endeavor and looked at Endeavor in awe that Shouto’s relationship with Endeavor must be on the mend. That maybe the abuse is behind them and the family is healthier. Hawks himself would never reach out to his own father or be near him, so why would Shouto? The only logical explanation and evidence Hawks has is that maybe Endeavor was forgiven and completely different now. Hawks, like Dabi, has no way to know that Shouto is holding his father accountable for abusing Rei and used to burn with self-destructive hatred inside. Hawks has no way of knowing Natsuo’s turmoil or that Fuyumi shares the same feelings as Natsuo, that Endeavor has a long way to go earn a place in his children’s lives - if they even let him.

Hawks is clinging onto his faith in heroes because he still believes in himself, in Endeavor, and in heroes. He’s like Shouto and believes in heroes and Endeavor despite Endeavor’s actions as a father. Shouto knows Endeavor is a skilled hero, but also accepts that people have different roles and may be shitty at one and great at another. Shouto knows Endeavor’s ambition and dedication to a title for his work drove him to hurt his family. Shouto knows Endeavor did this because Endeavor’s entire identity is his hero work - it’s almost expected that he put his ambitions before his family. Endeavor is just now, after 20 years, realizing he has another identity and role he failed to accept: Enji the father and husband. Now that he’s reached his career goals and realized the view at the top wasn’t as great or fulfilling as he imagined, he’s trying to figure out what Enji the father can do for his family.  

Just like Endeavor, Hawks’ whole identity is his hero persona, and if that hero doesn’t exist anymore, then Hawks would be lost. He’d have nothing. His whole life’s meaning - saving people - would be gone, and he has no connections to any roles (son, friend, citizen) because he’s severed ties with his parents and isn’t close to anyone. He can’t go back to being Keigo because it was too painful and hopeless being Keigo. Even if the commission is turning his back on him, he’ll still be the hero Hawks, this time on his own terms. Now that he’s free of their control, he wants to help the Endeavor he always looked up to as a sign of loyalty to him and possibly a vague way of returning the favor for indirectly rescuing Keigo all those years ago.

Rei and Tomie

Both mothers reacted similarly to their domestic abuse. Both mothers learned to associate their children with their abuser based on physical inherited traits. The Todoroki siblings each have a trait of their father’s (Touya has his eye color, Fuyumi has her red in her hair, Natsuo has his thick and tall stature, Shouto’s entire left side) and Hawks inherited feathers from his father. This fear serves as a small scaled representation of the societal stigma faced by those who possess lesser favorable quirks. These mothers learned their partner’s quirks were only used to hurt them or cause damage, and society has learned that certain quirks like Toga’s blood-sucking are inherently bad and are an indicator of morality. 

Like IRL domestic abuse victims, both mothers felt hopeless and powerless in their situation. Tomie asked her partner to fix the television without investigating what was wrong with it herself first. Tomie couldn’t care for herself or her son after Takami had been arrested - she’d been told what to do for so long and relied on Takami to provide (probably because he was paranoid and possibly wouldn’t let her interact with others out of fear she’d report him to the police) that she had trouble adjusting to any other kind of lifestyle. Making decisions was a skill she hadn’t used in years. Tomie, now homeless, compared Hawks to their abuser and expected him to provide by committing crimes too, which visibly hurt her son’s feelings. Some people who experience abuse subconsciously rely on their children to step up into a sort of caretaker/parent role. This is called parentification, and it just...sort of happens. This is why it makes sense Hawks’ identity revolves around being useful and wanting to help others. He had learned from a young age that if he wasn’t helping people, he had no value.

This isn’t to cast blame or judge Tomie, but to bring awareness to a boundary issue and inadvertent role reversal some victims and their families deal with as a result of abusive households. To parallel Tomie wanting Hawks to provide for the family, Endeavor also passively let Fuyumi to step up and fill the role of her missing parents. She carried a lot of the family emotional burdens after Rei was hospitalized, takes care of the family home, visits and cares for her mother at the hospital, and looks out for her younger brothers wellbeing in every sense of the word. Fuyumi is the unifying, optimistic link between Endeavor and his family. Even Endeavor recognizes Fuyumi’s parentification, though he doesn’t call it by its name.  

Rei expressed her hopelessness when she spoke with her mother on the phone about not being able to raise her children anymore, but couldn’t come up with a solution. She couldn’t raise her children anymore - and that was it. She didn’t ask her mother for help or come up with any ideas because she felt powerless. And again, this isn’t to demonize or blame Rei, but to point out that her reaction is reflective of the challenges some abuse victims face. Some people don’t know how to get out of an abusive relationship for various complicated, valid, and life-threatening reasons, no matter what logic outsiders apply to the situation. Some mothers feel trapped, like Rei and Tomie.

Both Rei and Tomie hurt their children, either emotionally or physically. In the light novels, Natsuo reveals that Rei was emotionally distant after Shouto was born, probably out of concern for Endeavor’s likely unhealthy enthusiasm to train Shouto. She was probably protective of Shouto, and inadvertently made Natsuo feel abandoned by focusing on her youngest. Like Keigo, Natsuo felt alone despite his mother being nearby physically. And also like Keigo, Natsuo eventually realized that the situation was complicated and his parents made mistakes and had issues that didn’t reflect their feelings toward him. Natsuo realizes his mother loved him still. He realizes Shouto didn’t have it better than he did because he had his mother’s attention, and Keigo realizes that even with his father gone, his mother isn’t “fixed.” Keigo recognizes that his parents had deep flaws and the Todoroki siblings recognize their parents’ too. Rei didn’t mean to hurt Shouto maliciously; Endeavor is to blame for their mother’s mental state. 

It’s implied that Tomie has an alcohol problem from the bottles laying around the unkempt Takami home. She uses alcohol to remove herself from reality, to put distance between herself, those she perceives are hurting her, and to hide. Running away doesn’t necessarily mean that she doesn’t care about her son - emotions and people are complex and not always black and white - but that she doesn’t have the mental and emotional capacity to nurture him. She’s distancing herself from her feelings (probably fear, hopelessness, dread) and with that she’s also distancing from her son. This might have been going on for a while because Keigo doesn’t even consider going to his mother for comfort. He goes to his inanimate Endeavor plushie instead. 

It’s also important to note that Keigo realizes that his parents’ relationship is devoid of love, and he probably thinks this is the reaso why he doesn’t receive any love from them. He wasn’t born from a loving relationship. The chapter implies he just...happened because Takami was hiding out with Tomie. Now Tomie doesn’t have an identity or will outside of hiding Takami and helping him, and Takami resents Keigo for tethering him to a person he thinks is useless and is holding him back.

In their own way, both mothers tried to console their child and ease the pain caused by their fathers. Rei did this by listening to Shouto, showing him that good heroes do exist, and reassuring him that he’s not his father. She was a loving mother, as noted by young Natsuo’s jealousy toward Shouto for “taking up” his mother’s attention. Her children are eager and willing to have a relationship with her. Tomie showed love for her son by buying that discounted Endeavor plushie in an effort to make up for the fact that Takami wouldn’t let him play outside. It’s important to note that while their family’s life was seemingly sustained by the fruit of Takami’s crimes, Tomie used what limited money the family had to pay for the toy, meaning that she wanted to ease some of her son’s pain and give him a source of strength. This was all she could manage considering the state of mind she was in. While it wasn’t big, she did the best she could, and apparently it left an impact because Hawks remembers the moment clearly.

The difference between these women and their families, which also mirrors real life, is that some work toward rebuilding their relationships and some don’t. The Todoroki’s support each other, and the Takamis are distant from each other. This isn’t to judge or blame or say one way is wrong and another is right, but to explore how this decision has and will influence Hawks and the Torodokis. 

Rei has made progress in her recovery and will likely be discharged soon, if she hasn’t already been. The family continues to identify and work through issues both as a unit and individually. Shouto realizes that it’s okay to use his left side, Natsuo is holding space for his unresolved grief and calling out Endeavor, and Fuyumi is hoping to finally have a family. Together, they’ve found healing from the trauma they suffererd together. Touya being alive only adds to this family’s ability to finally be happy and whole, though the journey may be difficult and painful.

Meanwhile, the Takami’s didn’t unite to heal together. Hawks’ father went to jail, Tomie and Keigo never saw him again and don’t want to, and Tomie accepted the commission’s offer to take care of her financially if she gave up Keigo. Keigo himself became Hawks, who suspected it was his mother who leaked his background to Dabi and wasn’t surprised to find out that he was right. He’s not visibly upset about his mother leaving either, which could either be him being emotionally numb or a sign his relationship with his mother never improved. It seems like he’s holding on to the scrap of love she did give him, as seen by his flashback to her holding his hand and remembering her words to “be strong like this guy.” But now she’s gone, and like he said, his shackles are gone.

So, what does this mean? Is Hawks wrong to still believe in Endeavor? Was Tomie wrong for revealing Hawks to Dabi and then leaving without notifying Hawks first? Given these character’s complex traumas, it’s hard to say without blaming someone for how they react to their trauma. It’s hard to apply logic to thinking and feelings that have been shaped by trauma. It’s uncomfortable to sit and see people make decisions that hurt others. Sometimes there is no right and wrong, sometimes there is wrong right and right wrong, and we have to sit and watch things play out, watch people react to the world through a trauma lens. 

Sometimes there’s no answer at all. I think that’s what adds a tragic touch to Hawks, to the Todorokis, to the League - they’re all reacting to their trauma in different ways, some in socially acceptable ways (Natsuo, Shouto) and some not (Dabi), and there’s no clear cut answer without passing judgment or telling someone how to react to their trauma. How does someone rewire their brain’s neuropathways from the ones formed by trauma to healthier ones, especially without professional help or even self-awareness.

It’s hard to watch all these characters suffer, especially when it hits so close to home for some of us. Let’s see what the next chapters bring! We’re not seeing the big picture just yet, and there is always time for epiphanies, breakthroughs, and change of hearts and minds.

[luckyspacerabbit]

would you ever share the background you created for kai leng? i'd be so interested in hearing it!

Hehe, yes! Thank you for waiting anon. I wanted to really think this through and make sure I was working with all the possible details of his character.

Okay, so my goal with fleshing out Kai was not to excuse him as a villain or to necessarily redeem him, but to humanize him and hopefully incur sympathy because I find his depiction as a mysterious lackey boogeyman to be 🙄 one dimensional and playing on racist tropes like the yellow peril ✨ (also bioware making him predominantly chinese + a lil russian. extrapolate what u will lol)

So here is my background for Kai :) Lots of childhood headcanoning and then some general talk about his character/why I chose certain elements as I did (such as dumping that dumb phantom blade for butterfly swords AEORHIG)

Childhood: According to the wiki, Kai is Earthborn, and from his general heritage we can assume that he grew up in Northern China (omg that's where my ancestors are from). The most populous city there is Beijing, which, if there was a spaceport or alliance recruitment anywhere, it would be there.

I headcanon that he was born to a bit of an unsteady family, where it was likely there was estrangement and unsafe conditions between the mother and father that may have created a sense of helplessness and neglect from a young age.

In my canon, Dan Hyun's mom, Hannah Shepard was the head of an agricultural research facility on Trident, and was an old friend of Kai's mom (From University, possibly).

As conditions worsened throughout Kai's childhood, his mom decided to take a chance and flee with Kai (age 10 at the time) to Hannah Shepard's science facility on Trident (Sentinel Agricultural Research Facility), where she and Kai would stay for about two years as his mom worked to save enough money for their own place .

Since Dan Hyun was already being homeschooled, it was easy enough for Kai to join up alongside her.

Dan Hyun (12 at the time) was extremely happy to have a friend since life on the facility could be really lonely-- but with all these changes Kai was having a difficult time adjusting, especially when Dan Hyun felt put off by his competitive attitude. After so long feeling neglected and growing in a tumultuous home environment, he craved external validation: homeschool provided an avenue for that. They developed their own academic-based competitive rivalry that counted towards friendship, but grew distant when he moved out with his mom about two years later.

When Dan Hyun was 18 (Kai at 16), she managed to apply to an Alliance Research Training program and receive admission-- something that was considered highly prestigious, despite her parents' reluctance. Kai had already begun to build resentment towards her due to the way her parents treated her (very preciously, sheltered, and without exposing her to the difficult parts of life) in contrast with what he lacked in family and world kindness, creating a drive to supersede her and compete with her once again, if only to have tangible proof that just because he began in a lower place didn't mean he couldn't surpass the vision of success.

After this event, they would strike up a still somewhat friendly rivalry again that continued until Kai enlisted in the Alliance at the age of 18 (his attempts to join directly at 16 failed in my canon lol, but he sure tried )

Alliance Service:

Kai took the combat-driven route while Dan Hyun was receiving training for her eventual research establishment in Akuze, meaning that in their line of work, they never crossed paths-- Though they maintained occasional communication and met up here and there whenever Kai was back from his tours.

This is where I believe his decline truly began.

Some habits, like his desire for tangible proof of success and seeking external validation, manifested more heavily in this time. Collecting badges off of dead soldiers (To remember his skill first hand) is a notable one, but I speculate he relied heavily on the word of his commanding officers to counter his self-esteem. Titles were incredibly important because they were proof. When he began to feel a loss of control which led to emotional outbursts and breakdowns, he would fall back on these bits of evidence that he had done something, anything.

The weight and violence of service combined to break away his mental strength and conditioned him to that of a soldier.

Famously, he was discharged in 2186 after his N7 designation. In a bar fight on shore leave, he murdered a Krogan (OKAY. Listen. The wiki says "first-degree murder" but first degree requires premeditation and bar fight implies heat of the moment. So IDK I think the details around this one are a little fishy. He was on leave but he was a soldier, so ? he probably just had a weapon on him? Okay, I'm not excusing him but premeditation is a bit different from manslaughter so just something I've pondered. It separates intentional killers from accidental murders).

At this point, he is formally incarcerated and set to serve a twenty-year sentence.

Cerberus Contact:

The year is 2177, and Kai has lost everything he's ever worked for. His prestige is gone, he is at the worst place he has ever been, his mom won't talk to him, and he has no one. He had even stopped hearing from Dan Hyun, the only person he could have considered a friend once.

Through a small TV in the prison, he is able to hear about the attack on Akuze, and its one survivor: Alliance Scientist Dan Hyun Shepard. In the attack her biotic abilities (Which she had kept secret for many years) were revealed, prompting immediate recruitment into the N7 Program and a contract for ten years of service. This drove Kai into rock bottom-- while he had nothing, Dan Hyun was steadily on track to uprooting the only thing he had ever felt like he had accomplished.

This is when Cerberus intervened, promising him a home, freedom, belonging, and success.

So of course Kai agreed. Why wouldn't he? He had nothing left in his miserable life and there would never again be a place for him.

Cerberus Intervention:

It's my belief that Kai wasn't necessarily "alienphobic" in the beginning. Instead, I think The Illusive Man saw a very clear opportunity to recruit and nurture a broken man into a pawn of service. TIM is incredibly smart-- everyone who works for Cerberus is. He knew what Kai needed was validation, the promise of success held directly on the tip of his tongue to drive him into tenacity and action.

Organizations like Cerberus, even in real life, prey on people at weak points, fulfill their needs and drape their ideology on top like icing on a cake. That's not to say that Kai is completely innocent-- he ate the sweets and readily threw the world to the side in order to attain more-- but it does give some perspective.

Kai in Cerberus:

In ME2 we know there is some apprehension on Kai's part about the role Shepard will play. He is already starting to feel slighted from failures with Rasa and takes even the possibility of rejection from TIM extremely hard and with violent emotional outburst. This evidences how much TIM has whittled him away over the decade of service. Kai feels as though he owes everything to TIM, that TIM saw something in him-- failing him is disproving that and accepting what Kai has feared all along: that he truly is a worthless and incapable person.

Kai and Shepard:

Kai is best known for his direct antagonism towards Shepard in the events of ME3, directly killing their allies and potential love interests in a way that is extremely personal. Yes, it is part of the job, but at the same time, it's clear Shepard gets under his skin. It's because in the end, after all that setup, Shepard is the one person who can take it all away from him.

They can replace him as TIM's prodigy/ They can bring an end to the organization that gave him everything (From his cybernetic enhancements (uh indoctrination cough couch) ) to his purpose in life. Kai threw it all in with them because he didn't see another choice.

My Canon: The End

So how do things end for Kai in my canon?

As you're aware, you can unalive him, violently. But Dan Hyun is very emotional and due to their shared childhood, I like to believe that there was still a grand feeling of kinship between them, a recognition of the other due to shared insecurities. I don't think there was ever a time Dan Hyun looked at Kai and saw anything other than her slighted friend (which is very romanticized, but SHE is very romanticized), it was just about getting Kai to see that too.

She locked him down the best she could, yelled, cried, and beat the shit out of him, but ultimately, preserved his life. After the crucible had been fired and Thane (alive ofc) attended to, she sought to right things between her and Kai: whatever form that takes. Who knows if he'll ever be able to live comfortably in society again-- but at least here, he has the chance.

Random Tidbits:

Some notes! At his best, I like that Kai is portrayed as Loyal, Hard Working, Methodical, Clever, Tenacious, and Factual. I think sometimes he can be written off unfairly as wimpy or scared, but in truth, he's very sure of his abilities and able to calculate his chances extremely well. He's smarter than fandom gives him credit for.

He has an interesting conflict between arrogance based on title and humbleness. He knows he wants to be the best but he never airs it-- like when Rasa suggests that he wants to be the leader for Humanity but he grows quiet and says to just focus on where things are at right now.

His time as a soldier absolutely affected him in ways I think sharpened him to the killer he became. It instilled values that remained with him in Cerberus, such as when he berates Bates for abandoning his squad and calls him a traitor. Kai doesn't betray-- he's quite literally ride or die.

Also? The ninja sword is super dumb because Kai is Chinese and the swords and Phantom's themselves are designed to appear Japanese in aesthetic. Ninjas= Japanese, but China did have their own sect of Assassins which I believe gave birth to Wu Ching as a type of Martial Arts? Or was drawn from it hmm

To keep to accuracy, Kai would have trained more towards their martial art techniques which focuses on close combat and quick movements, as well as the use of dual blades called butterfly swords (You'd likely recognize them as a set of rogue daggers).

That's all for that meta! Phew. If anyone actually read to the end, hey wassup, hope you enjoyed, and take most of this with a grain of salt since it's my headcanons and background work :) Thank you again for reading!

[thebluebellcompany]

FFXIV Write Day 16 - Deiform

In which three think about the Twelve.

- - -

Eris wasn’t sure if she believed in gods. 

The Dusk Mother, even as respected as she was back home, was not a ‘god’ in the way that Eorzeans believed in theirs. She was a nurturing, kind soul who looked after the Qaerrin after they had been tossed from the Dawn Father’s creation table, but she never asked anything from them, prayers or otherwise. All she asked was to keep in mind the lessons of nature and the belief in the stars as her teachings. Any prayers sent up by the Qaerrin were simply in thanks. 

To see the tribes of Eorzea, then, so desperate to survive that they would turn to their gods and try to summon them out of a lack of any other viable options was an option so complete out of left field that Eris still couldn’t wrap her head around it. The very idea of praying to Nhamma to smite down her enemies never even crossed her mind, even on the worst of days. And even then, these ‘gods’ were not these people’s gods, either. They were simply manifestations fueled by crystal with whatever infernal magics the Ascians had taught to the hopeless. Hydaelyn came close perhaps, but it was hard to see her as an all-seeing enforcer on the world. Better to think of it as the spirit of the planet made manifest. 

She had yet to see a true ‘god’. 

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

—

Campanula had a rough relationship with gods. 

Yes he went to church, bright and early every seventh day. Yes he knelt there on the uncomfortable wooden pews, knees aching at the effort trying to stay still for the entirety of the bell. Yes he sent up the right prayers to Halone and recited the necessary words and offered what donations he could on his pittance of a salary, but that was different from believing in Halone. 

Quite frankly the only reason he even showed up was out of habit. Lord Vassimut had been a devoted man back when he was among the living, and fervently believed in the grace of the Fury. He had tried to instill her teachings onto his children, adopted or otherwise, and while Jessaivian had taken to it with the usual Ishgardian conviction, Campanula had struggled to do so. It wasn’t as if he didn’t try; Halone knew he tried. 

Yet despite his attempts, he just couldn’t. Maybe it was simply a matter of not being a native Ishgardian, despite living in the city his whole life. Maybe he just didn’t connect with her teachings of justice and battle like battle-weary Ishgardians who had lost fathers, mothers, siblings, loved ones, did. Maybe he just didn’t like Halone and her gray statues judging up from above, her stony gaze everywhere you turned. Campanula didn’t know. 

Lord Vassimut falling by the hands of the Inquisition only soured what little faith he did have into a curdling mess. He had never prayed as hard as he did those weeks leading up to his adopted father’s trial. 

He wasn’t quite sure why he went anymore. It wasn’t as though the damned woman was listening.

—

Aurelia had never believed in gods. 

Being raised in Garlemald would do that to a person, she supposed. Their beliefs were not that of the Eorzeans and the Twelve, and with Gaius going and capturing primals into caskets of metal, well. It was clear to see where the Garleans stood on the belief of ‘gods’.  

Even beyond that, however, Aurelia had never believed. Her father and mother certainly didn’t, if their constant rage-filled screaming matches about their living situation were any indication. Taking Thaliak’s name in vain didn’t count, either- an unfortunate byproduct of living in Sharlayan. 

It was easier to shut the cursing of higher beings to focus on mangling bits of magitek together anyway. At least magitek made sense. If you knew what was wrong, and had the parts to fix it, you could make the problem go away. Prayer, though? You couldn’t fix things with prayer. Yelling words at the sky didn’t make one’s difficulties go away. Yelling at the sky wouldn’t magically give back her arm or legs. 

(She had tried, once, and all it had left her with was an aching void in her chest and the feeling she was doing something really, really stupid.)

Better to focus on the tangible and the real. Gods couldn’t be touched, couldn’t be understood, couldn’t be broken down into precise mathematical equations and formulas. 

And Aurelia wasn’t in the business of believing in things that she couldn’t see, or at least prove to exist.

—

Standing in front of the massive figure of Byregot, however, hammer and glorious power emanating from him, had only one thing pass through the three’s minds. 

“Fuck.” 

[heavenunderthemoon]

A fic request for Emily and daughter!! Where you are dating a guy and have not told her and she finds out when she comes to you and your boyfriend making out on the couch

“My mom would kill me if she found out I had a boy over. And then she’d resuscitate me, and then kill me again.” You said with a sigh, scrolling through the movie options on the flatscreen.

Harry gave a low chuckle, throwing another piece of popcorn in his mouth.

Harry. You thought dreamily.

You had known him since you were about twelve, a rather annoying boy in your physical education class. You recalled the various times in which the two of you were captains for your respective teams in that class, the rivalries and the fights that ensued. How long had it taken for the two of you to realize that the hatred stemmed from tiny little crushes on each other? Looking at him now, his curly hair overflowing into his eyes- something you adored because it meant you had an excuse to touch it, moving it out of his eyes- you couldn’t imagine hating him.

The two of you had only begun dating three months ago, your mother still didn’t know. You had planned on telling her the minute it became official, really, you had, but she had gone away on a case that night and you didn’t want to tell her over the phone. So then you postponed for when she would be back, staying up late until her flight landed, making her dinner, telling her that way. But, when she had come back you found the case had been a really difficult one and the wariness on your mother’s face, the pure exhaustion, had your lips sealed.

And it went on. Everytime you meant to tell her was just bad timing - and you needed good timing, because your mother really didn’t like Harry. Alright, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know Harry, she had never event met him, but you knew she wouldn’t like the idea of him. Your mother wanted you to like nice boys, prim and proper boys, smart boys who had crystal clean records and good intentions and Harry was a little far from the mark.

Harry wasn’t a horrible person, you knew that. He was misunderstood, incredibly so. His past wasn’t very kind to him, and he acted out frequently because of it. He likes to read and write and paint (he was rather good at it but he really only painted for you just to see the smile on your face when he did). He got detentions and was caught stealing (clothes for his little sister, and they let him off with a warning). He rode a motorcycle he found in the dump and fixed up himself, and he was a little rough around the edges appearance wise. But damn, was he good to you. He was caring, like the kind of caring where he always walked you home from school, no matter what. He offered you rides on his motorcycle (even bought a pretty helmet that had plastic bunny ears on the top bc you liked bunnies and he thought you would like it), but you refused. If your mother found out you rode a motorcycle you were sure she’d have a heart attack right then and there. And he was kind. Everytime Emily was away he called you to make sure everything was okay, talking as you walked through the house and double checked all the locks, and sometimes even read to you over the phone until you fell asleep. He wrote you poems and slipped them in your textbooks when he held them on the way to class, and he gave you flowers when you least expected them -no occasion, just because.

He was a boy, a boy you loved, and that was enough to make Emily go a little crazy and you knew that so you kept him away. You kept him a secret. Your little secret love, a piece of you, hidden away and locked up tight.

And that was why he was here, at your house on a Thursday evening. Your mother was off on a case, she had only been gone two days and when Harry had called you, asking how you were (he had been home for the past three days, his sister sick with the flu), you told him how much you missed him. Next thing you knew he was showing up on your doorstep with all your favorite snacks and the gesture had you flinging yourself into him, squeezing him tightly. It hadn’t mattered to you that Emily might get mad because how would she even know? She had been gone for two days, which meant she probably wouldn’t be back for at least another one. You and Harry could have this night.

So, despite the uneasiness in your stomach, you let him in.

“She wouldn’t kill me first? Or is she saving the best for last?” He asked thoughtfully, eyes turning to you. Oh you loved when he looked at you like that, a look thrown your way, a look filled with such...trust. Devotion. Love.

You sighed wistfully. “Me first. She’d be beside herself at the very thought that I hid something from her. She hates lying.”

He snorted. “A little rich coming from an FBI agent. Isn’t her job centered around lying?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing a popcorn at him. He was right. Your mother lied as a profession, bluffing that she had more information than she really did, or even lying that she was dead as the two of you foed to Paris. That hadn’t been very fun. She lied all the time. But that was to protect people. You were just protecting yourself.

“I just feel bad. I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you. I just don’t want you to feel her wrath. She’s a lot..you know? She means well she’s just protective.”

Harry didn’t know. He didn’t really get that parents should be protective because he didn’t really have any. Just a dead beat dad that drank himself into a stupor every night and was typically found passed out on the couch. He didn’t get that parents were supposed to love and nurture, and the fact that you had that seemed foreign, but he tried to understand, for you. And you knew that.

He nodded with a frown. “She doesn’t have to protect you from me, though. I would never hurt you. If you ever asked me to go, to leave, all you’d have to do is say the word and I’m gone. But I love you and you love me, our relationship doesn’t concern her.” He wasn’t snippy, just speaking softly, as if not to scare you away because he knew how much you loved Emily and he didn’t want to scare you away by speaking about her badly.

You smiled softly, taking his hand in his. The remote remained abandoned on the table that you had set it upon and he removed the popcorn bowl from his lap, setting it on the table as well, giving you his full attention. “It doesn’t but it also does. She’s my mom, she’s...I don’t know, it’s weird. I shouldn’t need her approval. I don’t. But I want it. I want her to know you, and not just surface level background checks, I want her to know the Harry that I know.”

He scoffed with a smirk. “Oh, you think you know me?” And a twinkle in his eyes showed you a twinge of fear, a fear that maybe you did. That you knew him better than anyone he had ever known. And it was the twinkle that made you nod.

“I do.” You responded confidently, and there was only silence in the room for a small moment. A moment where Harry’s heart was racing, and he was sure it was loud enough for you to hear it, and a moment where you were searching his eyes for an acceptance. Acceptance that he wouldn’t get scared away just because you knew him, knew every part of him, because you knew that it was something he tended to do. He tended to back away when he felt exposed and you were praying that he knew he didn’t have to do that with you.

Finally, he nodded, lips pursing. “Alright. Well then we’ll tell her when she gets back.”

“We?” You asked skeptically, because the thought of him and Emily in the same room had been something you had been trying to avoid for so long.

And he nodded once more. “We. Together. I’ll wear a suit and you can wear that pretty little black dress and I’ll come for dinner. I’ll knock on the door- not ring the bell because that’s a little prentious-“ you giggled and he smiled at the sound. “And I’ll bring her flowers, compliment her home,”

“Compliment her home?”

He gave you an incredulous look. “Well I can’t very well tell her that I’ve been here now can I? Besides, it’s what they do in books. I figure it’s how I’ll make a good impression. And I’ll tell her how very much I adore her daughter.” He set his chin, a blazing look in his eyes, the kind that made you think he might be invincible. One that made you think he could do anything and damn would you follow him to the depths of the earth as long as he had that look.

With newfound confidence, you grinned. “Oh? And just what, pray tell, do you adore about me?” And there was a certain impish tone in your voice that had him smirking mischievously.

He leaned closer, burning his hand up to caress your cheek. “Hmm, well, I love your eyes,” He wiped underneath them, his warm hands making delicious contact with your face. “The way I can literally see into your mind with them. You’re awful at hiding your emotions and just one look into those beautiful little orbs, I know everything I need to know.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer. “What else?”

“I love your lips.” And his finger was tracing the contours of your own, claiming his territory. “How you’re never afraid to speak your mind, those words of passion, or humor, or hatred tumbling from your plump lips, ones that I very much like to kiss.” And he bent down and pecked you, lingering just a moment longer to nibble on your bottom lip.

You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as you forced them back open. “Is that all?”

He had that god awful smirk on his face and you forced yourself to look away. “Everything about you, baby. Your wit, your determination, your compassion,” and with each word he was peppering your jaw with a kiss and finally you gave out, grabbing his face in yours and crashing your lips onto his. He was grinning into the kiss, savoring his victory but not for long. You wouldn’t let him win.

You flipped positions, pushing him slightly and straddling the boy. Your lips were ferocious against his, a mess of passion and intensity and his hand was going to your sides, sliding under your shirt and running upward. Everywhere he touched was set instantly on fire and you moaned into his lips.

And just as you were about to take it a step further, the door opened. You flew off the boy, landing onto your ass with a groan. Harry was springing upward, readjusting his hoodie and hair, though it was no use. Your hands had gone rampant through his curls and it would take an actual brush to fix it. Both of your lips were swollen from your previous activities, clothes a bit ruffled, and the look on Emily’s face made your heart stop.

She was looking at Harry, and then you, and then back to Harry with an unreadable expression on her face.

She was home. Home incredibly early, and her bag was discarded at her feet, dropped when she saw you and Harry.

No one was speaking, Harry was looking at you as for what to do, Emily was just staring and you...you were standing from your post on the floor, going to Harry’s side as if you protect him. “Mom, this is Harry-you’re home-“ You swallowed when her lips pursed. “He, um-we were- He’s my boyfriend.” And then a look you did recognize appeared on her face.

Fury.

“Harry, you can go home.”

Your mouth went dry. This was not how this was supposed to happen. Harry turned to you, eyes questioning if that was what y oh wanted, if you wanted him to leave and with a mournful smile you nodded, walking him to the door. He mouthed an “I love you” which you returned before shutting it.

“You had a boy over.”

“Mom-“

“A boyfriend, come to find. How long have you been seeing this boy?”

You winced. “Three months. But we were going to tell you, he was going to knock on the door-“ And you were beginning to ramble with panic as she cut you off.

“Three months? Three months of you sneaking around behind my back? And when I’m gone you do...that.” She was shaking her head in disbelief, hand going over her face.

“We weren’t sneaking I just...He came over tonight and that was an anomaly, we don’t do that-“

She scoffed. “And I’m supposed to believe you? You want me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth when you’ve been lying to me for months?” You stayed silent, swallowing. “Go to your room. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“Mom-“

“Go.”

You sighed, turning on your heel and walking off.