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#and a less than ideal family situation in general
moe-broey · 4 months
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Like why do I have to bargain. Why do I have to beg. Why is it always my fault. Why is the onus always on me. Why do I have to pick up the pieces. Why do I have to forgive. Why do you still say you love me. Why does it hurt. Fuck ooooofffffffff
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ridher · 2 months
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rafe being soft for the shy pogue working at the country club
you were new to the outer banks, having just moved to the island with your family. being a pogue, however, was less than ideal. it's not like you would know that though, because having yet to make any friends, how were you supposed to know these ridiculous terms that separated the town?
luckily, it wasn't hard for a pretty girl to get a job at the island club — serving drinks and bussing tables with generous tips.
the days didn't match up until almost a week into working when he first saw you. ever so sweetly taking orders in the little uniform you wear — a tiny skirt and fitted white polo that looks so tempting, especially because you don't even realize it.
rafe is determined to make you swoon, pogue or not. he saunters over in his effortlessly confident manner, not even bothering to take a seat and instead leaning over the bar with his arms crossed — forearms braced atop the hard counter.
a quick sweep across your figure with his tongue pressed to his cheek before his eyes meet yours as you spin around to greet him with a characteristically shy smile.
none the wiser to his troublesome reputation, you gaze up at him with big eyes through your lashes, standing before him though across the bar and speaking up all soft and polite.
"what can i get you?" rich, attractive boys your age were all but uncommon at the country club — spending their afternoons on the golf course and purchasing excessive amounts of alcohol.
rafe is no different. he orders a drink from some expensive bottle, all the while shamelessly crowding your space and purposefully trying to use intimidation to catch your eye. it works opposite to how he would like, the low and sultry voice he thanks you in only causing you to scurry off and switch to the back of house.
he takes it personally and makes it his mission when he shows up the next day (for the sole purpose of seeing you) to try again. he'll get what he wants. watching from afar he won't admit to himself he's in awe. how soft and sweet you are to everyone, even when you're alone shows it's not a facade.
the next approach he's more patient, coming in the cool lobby and running a nervous hand through his curtain bangs before flashing you a small smile. if only you knew how rare that was.
properly introducing himself with a firm handshake and taking a place at one of the barstools, ordering the same drink as previously and putting it on the cameron's tab.
"you, uh, you're new around here, huh?" he inquires in an unusually soft tone, patiently awaiting your answer.
"mhm. been just a couple days." you wipe up the counter — a repetitive task to busy yourself with in situations like these.
"right, right.." tapping a finger against the smooth surface barricading you from him, watching intently and trying not to come across too strong as he plots thoroughly in his head.
it becomes a regular thing — his near daily visits to the club. after spending a day aggressively hitting balls on the green with his friends, he comes inside to just talk.. and watch how your face flushes when he says practically anything, dimples and all. in your mind, he's the only friend you've made in this town and he is more than happy to be that person in his own, slightly twisted way.
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astroismypassion · 2 months
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Astrology observations 🌊🐟🌊
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Credit: @astroismypassion
🌊 Cancer Sun men (some other Cancer placement can be that as well like Cancer Venus, Cancer Mercury) are I noticed veryy indecisive. But they are masking that indeciveness behind “oh I just haven’t met the right person for me yet”. As partners they tend to get lazy, more controlling with time, but paint a very very almost this ideal picture in the beginning. You might not be able to find anything bad, because they seems so ideal on paper. They could be cheap too. They also dislike paying, prefer to split 50/50, but make sure that they are spending LESS than you, so they still feel taken care of. They pay only what is theirs and if something is shared between both of you, they expect you to take care of it.
🐟 A lot of Taurus Sun people are gym/workout freaks secretly, but can be inconsistent with it, so you might never openly know this about them.
🌊 I find it’s a slight, small and funny difference between Scorpio Moon and Scorpio over the 4th house native. Scorpio Moon is so secretive, private and doesn’t disclose information easily. You might be their best friend, but still don’t know their family situation to the full extent. But with Scorpio over the 4th house I noticed can kind of be oversharers?? It’s harder for them to keep a secret and when they vibe with someone in a nice conversation, they end up overspilling information.
🐟 Your partner can be a mix of your Juno, Jupiter and sign over 1st, 4th and 7th house. 1st house because there could be found people that are so “in your face”, because you were literally meant to meet them in this lifetime, 4th house is people you introduce to your parents, take home and 7th house are people that are similar to you, yet different enough that you feel they complete you and that you can learn from them.
🌊 Your IC sign shows some of the deepest parts of you that have been instilled in you and have been in your family for generations and generations. It is also what you know best, what already comes to you naturally. For example: Aries IC you are unafraid of conflict, you are not scared to be confrontational.
🐟 I noticed Taurus over the 12th house or Taurus Lilith are more prone of wanting to steal something material from you, like a material item, if they feel you hurt them emotionally. Watch out for Taurus Lilith especially, because they feel like they are never abundant enough, I noticed there is something missing when they are around you, like you might start missing your umbrella or something little and mundane.
🌊 I still think about 8th house Synastry that usually both people need to change. So it’s not about pointing fingers that planet person or house person. It’s usually not enough just one doing the changes and the other not, for the connection to run more smoothly.
🐟 I noticed Composite Libra Rising couples really struggle with other people. Usually the only conflict these two have is about other people. You might not even complain about each other, but when there is tension, it is about other people. Like your/their friends, how much time they are spending with certain other people.
🌊 Composite 1st house shows the things you liked about each other in the beginning, but these are the very same things that you resent with time or dislike later on and complain about. For example: Composite Aquarius Rising: you will like that you are still able to be with them and chase your dream goals, you like that you still are able to have your independent life besides them, that they give you enough freedom and personal space. But later you will start noticing that you “drifted apart/didn’t take enough time for each other”.
🐟 Taurus Venus natives really crave a partner that pays for them. But I noticed once they get older, it reverses from what I’ve seen? They are usually the one getting taken advantage of and paying eveything or a lot of the things for their partner.
🌊 Venus in the 8th house in Synastry chart gives energy of “We are not in a partnership, but I also don’t like you trying to date other people”. 😅
🐟 Composite Pisces Mars, Mars at 12 degrees or Composite Mars in the 12th house will really hold you accountable, even when you will be trying sweep thoughts, feelings, conversations, under the rug.😩 Like yes, it is known for sweeping topics under the rug, giving too many chances, forgiving. But you will notice things go wrong or poorly/bad in the connection when you just let it slide. Like the universe won’t allow you to do that, if it’s not genuine. You might not vocalize certain of your genuine thoughts, ideas, feelings for the sake of keeping peace in the connection that one time, but it will blow up in your face later all at once, because the universe won’t let it slide. 😬
🌊 Often when people say “Oh my partner did that for me in the beginning, but they don’t do it anymore now”, I suggest look at your partner’s Venus sign. This is how they behave towards you to attract you. This is “the attractive you” you are usually in the beginning, early stages of getting to know someone or when you are going in for y job interview. For example:
Aries Venus: they will asking YOU firstly jokingly “Are you trying to flirt me?😂”, they can slide this one casually in the conversation.
Taurus Venus: buy you a little gift (but usually great great quality), treat you to a meal out or sharing snacks with you. might also gift you clothing for the very first birthday you have, which is their way of telling you they like you.
Gemini Venus: helps you out a lot (sometimes forces their help onto you😅), pays for drinks, seems like they will help you or be there for you if anything happens every day out of the week.
Cancer Venus: they usually potray themselves as the emotional one and describe people around them are all “so stone cold”, they are more emotionally open in the beginning to lure you in, but later you realize they are quite stoic actually or even nonchalant.
Leo Venus: gives a lot of attention mostly in the beginning. because later they wanna experience being the one that is the center of attention in the relationship.
Virgo Venus: will text you consistently and always make sure that they are there for you, also the one to likely help you out, but with ulterior motives😅
Libra Venus: another one that pays for your meals, they will take you out, wine and dine you, you will feel like they know all the good restaurants.
Scorpio Venus: now, this one is hard. it’s usually in their stares. If it’s there, it’s already in the EYE CONTACT. If you don’t know what I mean by eye contact, then the sparkle is not there. but quite soon, they will have a a little, but manageble jealous episode, when you mention your female/male friends and that is how they reveal themselves that they care about you.
Sagittarius Venus: oh this one will take you places, organize that bike trip, show you a city they know really well and take you around, feed you with their stories and impress you with their many life experiences.
Capricorn Venus: acting too busy, burdened with duties, but actually hanging with their parents in the free time or playing video games. oh gosh, they give such air of being on their own constant strict schedule, that you will feel like they don’t have time for you, so that when they give you their time, you will think it is special.
Aquarius Venus: this one is unique, will likely organize a set up, group situation with a few of their trusted friends with you going for a drink/meal, but it’s a test try, to see how well you would merge in, another type is acting super busy and productive with you, but actually hanging with friends, partying.
Pisces Venus: lure you in by giving you things, items for free or impressing you with their musical talent, sing you a song, make you homemade art, treating you to a nice sweet homebaked treat, they will give the impression of being naive, but that’s quite far for it.
🐟 You might argue less with people how have Saturn on your Ascendant, because you will feel like you need to level up mentally and act more mature when you are around them, so you are likely to avoid petty fights, but only when you are with this person.
🌊 We often watch TV series, films with actors who share the same Moon sign as us. For example: I noticed Sex and the City TV series is very popular among Aquarius and Capricorn Moon people (also Sagittarius Moon to certain extent) and main actresses have these Moon signs too.
🐟 Aquarius Mars people are few of the actors who actually don’t mind being known for THAT one movie/TV series role and don’t try to run away from that image, they instead embrace it. For example: actress Eva Longoria (Aquarius Mars) who still to this day doesn’t mind being asked about her well-known and iconic role as Gaby Solis in TV series Desperate Housewives.
Credit: @astroismypassion
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ghostlyferrettarot · 1 month
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🖤🎀Venus in the signs🎀🖤
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❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️
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🖤Venus in Aries: gives impulsive and receptive love. They fall in love quickly and value mental compatibility. They are magnetic, quick thinkers, but can be demanding and overwhelming in relationships. They enjoy social situations and give surprises to those they love.
🩷Venus in Taurus: is loving, romantic and sensual, but does not give in easily. Prefers stability and fidelity in love. Is generous with the loved one but can become possessive. Enjoys luxury, nature and the arts, and often has good material fortune.
🖤Venus in Gemini: seeks intellectual connections rather than emotional ones, being frivolous and changeable in love. They value freedom and variety in relationships, enjoying company and diversity of interests. They are attracted to intelligence and a sense of humor in a partner.
🩷Venus in Cancer: shows an emotionally deep and sentimental nature. They seek emotional security and value loyalty in relationships. They can be maternal or paternal in their approach to love, needing to feel loved and protected. Their home and family are central to their emotional well-being.
🖤Venus in Leo: stands out for its warmth, loyalty and dramatic love. They are ardent romantics who seek attention and applause. They enjoy luxury, parties and creative expressions. They seek devoted love and are generous with their affections, expecting reciprocity and admiration.
🩷Venus in Virgo: is cold and practical, hindering emotional development. They are meticulous and analytical in love, seeking perfection and security. Sometimes distant, they prefer relationships based on shared interests. They excel in professions that require precision and empathy.
🖤Venus in Libra: is refined and aesthetic, more spiritual than physical in love. They seek harmony and are talented in art and music. Sensitive to the environment, they detest vulgarity. They are romantic but less sensual, they value the soul more than the exterior. Attractive and social, they enjoy company.
🩷Venus in Scorpio: This is an intensely passionate and emotional position. Love is all-consuming and can lead to obsession. There are possessive and jealous tendencies, with a strong need for control in relationships. This intensity can be both attractive and intimidating.
🖤Venus in Sagittarius: Adventurous and sociable, seeking ideal but ephemeral love. Prefers freedom over deep commitment and can disillusion those seeking long-lasting connections. Emotionally idealistic and outgoing, values ​​honesty and a sense of humor, but can lack tact in intimate relationships.
🩷Venus in Capricorn: Shows a cold and earthy persona in love, jealous and possessive. They are reserved and require certainty before committing, seeking moral beauty over aesthetics. Slow in relationships, but loyal once committed. Proud, caring and status-seeking.
🖤Venus in Aquarius: Focuses affections on humanity and the spiritual rather than physical passion. They are selfless, popular, and seek intellectual friendships rather than long-term romances. They prefer personal freedom and are prone to friendships rather than love relationships.
🩷Venus in Pisces: Shows deep devotion and sensitivity, with a tendency to love widely but suffer for wrong choices. They are compassionate, artistic, and intuitive, but can be sensitive and prone to sacrifice themselves for others. Ideal for expressing feelings through art.
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cowboys-tshot · 7 months
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Circe and Odysseus in Epic: The Musical
EDIT: DO NOT TAKE MY WORD AS THE 100% TRUTH!!
I took some classes and wrote a paper about ancient Greek culture, but I am in NO WAY an expert. Please read through the reblogs to see some good criticisms and discussion about this topic further. My point overall stands that you can't apply modern rules and standards to ancient stories, but my evidence is undoubtedly flawed! This post has been edited to try and better reflect this.
I'm seeing everyone pointing out the possible issues with Epic the Musical's deviation from the original story of Circe and Odysseus, and as someone who's studied Ancient Greece/ancient Greek myths a bit, I wanted to say some stuff about it. This will be a bit of a long one, so apologies for my rambling!
Note that I'm not trying to shit on SA survivor's perspectives and (completely valid) arguments. I'm just trying to offer some context surrounding the original myth and how it fits (or rather, doesn't fit) with a modern audience. If I'm wrong with any of this, feel free to call me out! Criticize the shit out of me! I like learning about Greek culture and myths and would 100% love to hear other perspectives on this.
So, a few points about Ancient Greek myths to kind of explain the context around Circe and Odysseus:
Greek myths often did not have good views/depictions of women. Women were very often depicted as conniving, selfish, sexually insatiable creatures. There are a few deviations from this trope, the most prominent of which being Penelope herself—she's basically the ideal Greek wife, staying loyal to her husband for 20 years and all that.
Adultery often only applied to women. Husbands cheating on their wives wasn't merely tolerated, but kind of expected. Men often cheated on their wives with various kinds of prostitutes, concubines, mistresses, etc. Although, sleeping with unmarried women (that weren't specifically prostitutes) or married women was still looked down upon. Women didn't have this same standard. They could only sleep with their husbands—hell, their husbands (and family) were pretty much the only men they could even interact with once some really sexist Asiatic practices were brought to Athens.
The original myth has Hermes very plainly lay out how Odysseus' confrontation with Circe will go: Odysseus will eat the moly, draw his sword at her, she'll proposition him, and Hermes directly tells Odysseus to accept. Basically a "sleep with her if you want your men to live" situation. (See this post for more specifics on this).
So, let's apply this to Epic: The Musical. Here's some reasons I think may explain the Circe myth being changed:
The Greek "women being evil" stereotype is... problematic. While I 100% understand that it's important to acknowledge male victims of SA, I don't think the original myth was focusing on Odysseus being a victim—I saw it more of an emphasis on Circe being a sexually selfish woman, as women were often believed to be. Changing Circe to be less conniving and evil deviates from the concerning Greek stereotype.
The SA in the myth is not actually very clearly SA. Yes, with a modern perspective, it absolutely is sexual coercion, but for ancient Greeks, not so much. It made sense to them that sex could be transactional, especially when gods were involved. It's already been established that Epic, while still generally accurate to the original myth, does change things relating to morality/themes in order to better align with modern Western ideas (i.e. OG Odysseus not being as remorseful and merciful, as that was expected of a Greek hero, but Epic Odysseus having more empathy because that's more modernly heroic). If something from the original myth doesn't translate well into modern culture, then it's understandable to want to change or omit it.
In the case that the original Circe myth wasn't SA (I'm not saying one is more right than the other, I'm just covering all the bases), then it wouldn't even constitute as cheating. Like I described earlier, men often slept with women that weren't their wives. Plus, being a goddess, she's already kinda exempt from being blamed if Odysseus slept with her—only women are ever really blamed for sleeping with (or being SAed by) gods, and even then, their husbands sometimes don't even give a shit. But modernly, we would not see it that way. To us, it's not societally acceptable for a married man to sleep with another woman (without his wife's consent, at least). While Ancient Greeks viewed Odysseus as a good (or at least okay) husband, a modern audience wouldn't. Making Odysseus loyal to Penelope and not sleeping with other women (assuming this wasn't SA, but again that's one interpretation) makes him the good, loyal, empathic, modernly heroic man that Epic is clearly aiming for. Repeating my last point: If something from the original myth doesn't translate well into modern culture, then it's understandable to want to change or omit it.
Applying modern perspectives on Ancient Greek society and mythology isn't worth it. Like, we all joke about Greek mythology/Ancient Greece being super gay, but it was often just what we consider pedophilia (it's called pederasty if you'd like to know more). Y'know the Hades and Persephone story? Like, the original one with the kidnapping? Yeah, that was kinda normal in some areas. The myth of Demeter and Persephone is tragic, yes, but it was so normal that a lot of wedding ceremonies included references/recreations of it! Girls got married off ASAP after their first menstruation to men of at least 30 years old. We don't tolerate that shit today (for the most part, at least)! But it was normal in Ancient Greece. Applying modern rules and standards to ancient culture just does not work.
Anyways, I'll shut up now! I'm gonna go keep listening to The Circe Saga lmao
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wszczebrzyszynie · 1 year
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Anymore space mining au stuff ?
Space mining occupies my brain so there is a lot of concepts but most of it is unfinished. Will probably post a lot of art related to it in the week. All i have to offer for now is an unfinished goal/relationship chart? Not sure how to call it but it exists. Doesnt include all characters and information... so all the additional things are below! Under the read more thing
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Grian, Jimmy and Pearl are all from earth and were raised together. Pearl and Grian have a rival-like relationship but in a friendly, more sibling like way. Their main point of rivarly is their bounties... theyre both happy with their lifestyles now even if they were forced into crime by their less than ideal situation on their home planet. Grian used to be a small theif with a passion for explosives before he and Scar joined forces. In true post space colonial story fashion earth is a destroyed hellhole. Jimmy is the only one out of the three that managed to not go into crime; instead he led a pretty uneventful life. he became a space miner somewhere in the solar system. Married scott (who lives and works on a space station) somewhere down the line. All went well until he accidentialy discovered the presence of sculk, shutting the mine down. It would be okay if the same exact situation didnt happen again... and again. After divorce he went through a late 20s middle age crisis and started a ranch on a planet no one really heard about. Pearl and Grian both visit him from time to time
Scar used to be a bounty hunter. Not an independent one like etho is; instead scar was assigned the jobs he had to do by higher ups... More like a cop. It was a generally miserable experience for many reasons, so he left for crime quite easily. Him leaving also fixed his relationship with Cub a significant amount; the two are really close as theyre both next generation vex (which is an illegal genetic modification; next gen means they were not modified themselves, but they parents were. Their existence is therefore not illegal but undesirable and it was something scar had to deal with while being a bounty hunter a lot) and therefore treat each other like family a bit.
Joel and lizzie are married and space pirates. Both of them want to be treated more seriously, but Joel especially needs to be noticed by etho. Lizzie just accepted that.
Cleo and bdubs used to work together for a stupid amount of time; mostly doing all kinds of jobs no one wanted to do. Everything went well until bdubs got caught by etho and went to actual prison for a while. The prison itself wasnt what changed him; he became absolutely fascinsted with etho instead, leaving his old life behind and becoming a bounty hunter. Cleo obviously holds a grudge... so much so that despite focusing more on sculpting she still finds time to mess with Bdubs plans every now and then
And Etho is mostly focused on finally catching Pearl and hiding the fact that hes an animal modification (done against his will). Kitty ...
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nadinediary · 1 year
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The 7 Dating Bare Minimums from 𝒩adine
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1. Shared Values + Belief
Values are prioritised characteristics that build who we are as individuals and our belief is what forms our world view and lifestyle. I find it easier to build a relationship with someone when your values and beliefs align. I cannot envision a relationship or even casually date someone who I can't see eye-to-eye on the core attributes that form my life and character.
I can understand being lenient on religious and political beliefs when casually dating although for long term relationships, I need to be on the same topic about religion, politics, children, cheating, etc.
2. Romantic (Considerate)
I personally can not be in a relationship or date a person who can’t exhibit romance. Romance to myself isn’t the flowers (not saying I don’t adore flowers), or the chivalrous actions shown in the rom-coms.
Romance is the small intimate actions that show you’ve been paying close attention to your loved one wants and needs. It’s the considerate small things that may take a little more time but are worth it.
3. Chivalrous
Talking about chivary, don’t get it confused, I love a chivalrous man. The door opening, pulling the seat out, making sure I’ve gotten home safe, I’m quite old fashion when it comes to dating. I love it all.
I find it charming when someone is chivalrous to everyone not just when it pertains to myself. If they see someone needing help and step in, I think that's a great trait to have. I don't want someone who just does things out of attraction but rather because of kindness.
4. Well groomed
Personally a man is most attractive when they are well groomed, actively upkeep themselves and pay great attention to their hygiene. This idea that only women get manicures and pedicures is ridiculous. I know plenty of men that like keeping their cuticle healthy.
Every man that has had the honor of taking me on a date or more, has had a skincare routine (even if it's just a three step routine). They’ve all had beautiful nails and I could tell they cared about cleanliness.
5. Adaptable + Resilient
I‘m a first-generation immigrant who has seen poverty and wealth, I’ve gone from living in the scums of rural Nirobei to the upper class Australian suburban area. This is all because of God’s blessing and my family’s resilience.
I need a partner who is both resilient and adaptable when in situations less than ideal. I’m a strong minded individual and hope the same for my partner.
6. Communicative
We’ve all heard about the importance of communication in relationships but not all communication is healthy.
It's important for your partner to be open to hearing you, a lot of people lack listening skills so it's precious when you find someone who really listens and respects you. Trauma can cause people to close up but there are many different ways to communicate from written to spoken, as long as my partner shows they are communicative I don't care.
7. Generous
I come from a generous family, I’m surrounded by generous people and I myself am always ready to give if someone needs. I could not envision any relationship, friendship or romantic relationship with someone who wasn’t as giving.
Generosity isn’t neglecting yourself for other, it's lifting each other up, know when to say no while being kind to others situations. I don't want a pushover, I want a generous partner.
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Sincerely,
𝒩adine.
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thedivineart · 1 year
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Confirmation Signs To Determine Your Future Spouse
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ꕀ ׅ࣪ ꒰ ✮ ꒱ links : navigation. send love.
pacs. paid services.
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one
wishing well, a fountain, throwing coin and wishing in fountain, unexpected meeting, receiving the most special gift from someone, a lost purse/wallet, climbing alone in mountain to reduce stress/ hangout, being alone without feeling lonely, a dog coming towards you, small home in forest, cross roads, being happy in other people relationship, going to building/institutions to fix legal documents, a friends to lovers trope, visioning your past life, a gallantry from someone, aiming financial achievement, lucky money wins, a nest eggs, flames, mutual feelings with someone, being flirt, co-worker, a new friend, ships, a little home/cottage, new house/places, moving to a new place, soulmate connection, meeting perfect person/ ideal lover, seeing lots of abiding love, wedding, wedding rings, hurt/painful feeling, hospital/doctor, unrequited love
⋆ feel free to ask question you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like or re-blog when you love it !
two
changing location whether it is for work or residency, when you heal from the past, starting a new, stork, a invitation for a event, gifts ( receive or give ), helpful advice from someone, receiving lots of good news, a clock/time, your hate and fear towards someone, a handshake, a journey ( travel ), birds, sharing ( partnership), food, restaurant/ fast-food places, notice of correspondence from important bills, writer/ journalist, financial loans/help, being at your lowest point such as feeling trapped/tired/staying at home/unhealthy situation, a friend betrayal, older than you, foreign, lawyer/authority, being attack, an enemy, invitation in weddings or engagements, church, cemetery, thinking negative/ having negative thoughts, a large body of water such as beaches, pools, fountains etc, night, cold weather/winter, locks, fishes, physical union with someone, a mending of broken friendship/ex love, party, clubs
⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like or re-blog when you love it !
three
younger, foreign / leader, bad girl & boy image/personality, unexpected kiss, feeling lonely, a new lover/person, family oriented, lady and moody, soulmates connection, unexpected friendship with someone, horse/sagittarius, a good news coming, an artist/poet, student of arts, athletic body or an athlete, lack of focus in commitment, receive or give gifts, fountains, generous, wears uniform that symbolize their position at work, a friend, co-worker, a peer, taking time to heal the wounds of the past, in park, in forest, walking around and meeting someone new, having time alone, wandering in woods, in the big trees, travel, achievement, lucky breaks, successful moving up ( at work or something), the space, distance, someone is far away, delay, receiving love letters and bouquet of flowers, country side, simple life, money surrounds them, professional person, workaholic and less focus on love, a bank; good at handling finances, provides good advice in finance, a happy family, fire/burning, summer, evening, warm weather country, good judgement, social
⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !
four
authority, can be foreign, arrogant, weddings, older, negative emotions, large body of water such as beaches, pool, fountains, lake, pond etc, night, cold weather/winter, a dog, a friend, a church, a purse, money, financially stable/ wealthy, office, jewelry box, a social butterfly, enjoy clubs and socializing, likes to be busy and active, wine, travel, trips via water, clouds, heavy rains, good partner, sensual, good at financial advice, an expensive wedding of a friend, children, financially secure, fixing cars, lily, workaholic, trying their best at difficult situation, lion, a Leo sign, quite, electric, jealous and possessive, like to give great advice, streets of gold
⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !
© thedivineart. do not plagiarize any of my work, translate or repost it on other social media platform.
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piracytheorist · 9 months
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The kindness surviving
As I can't stop saying, one of my favourite things about Spy x Family is how focused it is on humanity's innate kindness. Its premise is three lonely people finding a family (and themselves) with each other, the story's endgame is to secure peace, it's hopeful in the midst of its realism, and it allows characters to be vulnerable when it comes to family and connections.
And one more thing that is added to that, is how Yor and Twilight (to a less obvious degree) have retained their kindness and compassion through their violent lives and professions.
Yor started the assassin gig when she was just a teenager.
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Adding to that how it was a choice she made out of despair and lack of any other choice, and how the Shopkeeper seems like a despicable person to work under (there's no moral merit to recruiting children for assassinations, let alone orphans with no other choices left), this could have easily made into a story of how Yor became cold and emotionless and cruel.
Instead, particularly thanks to having Yuri in her life, she's remained as kind as ever, even when she kills people. She doesn't torture her targets, would rather refrain spilling unnecessary blood, and she's careful and quick in her job.
And through all that, her priority has never been herself.
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She's kind, almost to a fault. She's polite and when it comes to everyone else but her targets, she thinks they have the best interests at heart and can even be confused sometimes as to why some people behave in a rude or cruel way.
She's human. Her reason to start and continue being an assassin was to ensure her brother's carefree life, and now that she's bonded with the Forgers, they've joined Yuri in the way she wishes to protect their peaceful life.
It's showing that despite her violent work, her humanity has prevailed, making her selfless and nurturing. It's in our nature.
Twilight's case is handled differently, as he has denied himself any identity and attachments to ideals, aside from protecting the peace.
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He's not supposed to "have" traits or a personality. He was trained to be able to adapt to any situation and become the role he's acting as. When he acts as a father, he can be kind and caring. When he acts as a terrorist, he can be cruel and violent. And when his job gives him no option but to kill people who stand in his way, he'll do it without remorse.
But again, like Yor, his reason to do everything he does is to ensure peace remains, so that no-one will have to suffer like he did. That's a very empathetic and compassionate motivation, and though the circumstances of his life made him bury it deep, the moment Anya cries and clutches onto him for comfort he's reminded securely of that.
As he is when he sees Anya smile.
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He cares for the next generation and wants to provide it with a better future than he had. And while the previous season showed many moments of instinctual kindness (saving the kid from the charging cow, sparing the German shepherd, thanking Bond for saving Anya, encouraging Carroll Campbell to play fairly) and understanding of how humans can work together (his discussion with Desmond, talking about how despite different stances, people can still meet in the middle if they try), the cruise arc showed how he prioritized on making Anya happy. While at first he was confused by the concept of "having fun", he eventually ended up observing Anya and encouraging activities that would make her happy.
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Again, after a certain point the "mission" is nowhere in his mind and he only worries how Anya's mood will affect her and the family. As he focuses on that, he turns compassionate, empathetic, and dare I say, sweet.
And I can't help thinking those are traits he doesn't have to pretend that much to show, if at all.
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He's a master of manipulation and deception. He could act tooth-rottingly sweet to deceive his targets, but seeing how open and unprecedentedly honest he becomes with Yor, and how (even if he doesn't realize it) he actually learns to be a good father to help Anya with her mood, I don't think that's the case with those two (three, if you count Bond too!).
If nothing else, we (and Anya) have the advantage of hearing his thoughts, and while we joke about how "For The Mission" is his flimsy excuse to himself for the feelings he's developing for his family, it's truly important how he's started to not need the reminder; how he can instinctively care for them, because it's what his compassionate nature tells him to do.
And I think, just like Yor, it's very important and telling that through his life of violence and deception, his humanity has survived just under the surface and is starting to show more the longer he stays with the Forgers. He's not "learning" to be compassionate and caring; those are traits that already existed, but he had to cover with all his fake identities. However, since they were what led him to become a spy in the first place, the way didn't replace the motivation.
He's human, even though he willingly trained to suppress any such vulnerable spots, they could never be extinguished entirely.
This story is full of hope for humanity and how kindness can survive and prevail among anything else. Its characters would logically follow the example.
And I love them for it.
(Anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)
337 notes · View notes
hajoon-iz-won · 7 months
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Best First Time Ever!
PAIRINGS: non-idol Heeseung x reader
SUMMARY: Y/N, a twenty-year-old girl, was determined to have her best first time ever at a club. She had grown up in a small town with conservative parents who didn't seem to care about her dating life or losing her virginity. Now, she thought it was easier to find someone to feel good with for a night at a club than trying to maintain an actual relationship.
WARNINGS:
smut, fluff, 18+ mdni
Dom!Heeseung, Sub!reader, gentle domHeeseung, fingering, size kink, breeding kink, reader loses her virginity, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, pet names(baby, sweetheart, angel), creampie, aftercare
Word Count: 6.1k
Today would have been the day. Y/N was resolved that today would have been the day. It wasn't like she did this kind of thing frequently — no, she was undeniably more calm concentrating on in her dorm than in clearly clubs and hitting the dance floor with outsiders. In any case, she'd had enough of being prodded by her friends and roommate. "Twenty years of age, you're truly still a virgin? ” She had recently never felt like it made a difference, and zeroing in on her examinations had forever been the need. Among that and working, she hadn't actually had a lot of chance to zero in on dating, considerably less losing her virginity. In any case, presently… ?
Indeed, she guessed it was far more straightforward to simply track down somebody to feel quite a bit better with for a night at a club than need to disrupt her timetable by attempting to keep a genuine relationship. Indeed, even still, she was somewhat anxious. "Goodness, come on, you will be fine. You look perfect; it'll benefit you to get out for an evening!" Her closest friend offered her a smile and an energetic wink, the blonde lady throwing a simple arm around the more youthful young lady's shoulder. "I endeavored to make you look this great; I'll be cursed assuming I let you back down of flaunting my craftsmanship," Gaeun prodded, directing Y/N towards the entry of the club. "Plus, would you say you are truly having the college experience in the event that you don't look at a club no less than once? I'd prefer not to see my dearest friend denied of such a significant encounter! “ A low moan got away from Y/N, a hand moving upwards to card through dull dark red locks, emerald eyes looking at her companions faces. "I'm here, right? I'm not going to chicken out. I just. Do you have a peculiar outlook on being here? I don't actually have the foggiest idea acceptable behavior in places like this," she conceded. Not that that was actually her issue; she'd be quick to concede that she had grown up extraordinarily protected. Regardless, she realized she was the cliché illustration of that modest community young lady, having experienced childhood with a little ranch with her conservative mother and father.
It wasn't so much that they had been purposefully attempting to conceal the world from her possibly; she just questioned they had a lot of interest in cooperating with such things themselves, so how could they teach their sweet young lady on it? Also, sex? God, sex was, obviously, not discussed. Sex was marriage, and marriage alone, they had demanded, and she would have no need to be familiar with it up to that point. No doubt, as though. Culture shock was likely the most ideal way to depict what she had felt after leaving that modest community interestingly. Her college was situated in a major city, all things considered, many miles from the solace of her home and family. Furthermore, things were… So unique here.
Indeed, even now, two years in the wake of disappearing for school, she still now and again winds up attempting to change. This, however, wanted to beat a major wall for her. "I guarantee we'll have a great time," Gaeun guaranteed, snatching her hand and pulling her inside. "This is my #1 club in the city. It generally has the best music, the beverages are modest, and there aren't a lot of wet blankets." The principal thing Y/N saw as they moved toward the entryways and she was accordingly pulled inside was the music. It was difficult to make out what it was precisely at the volume it was at, however there was a profound, beating bass that appeared to vibrate through her, resonating in a consistent heartbeat she'd up until recently never experienced. Emerald eyes went wide in shock at it, however it was nowhere near unsavory. “See? I told you, it's great, right? Come on." Another little pull, and Y/N wound up moving no sweat, energetic expectation and fervor for something new and exciting getting comfortable her bones, far offsetting her anxiety. The lights were darkened, countered by brilliant hued strobes that illuminated the room in dynamic, moving examples, creating weird shaded areas on bodies moving and moving together to the beat on the dance floor. The music droned, stronger now than when they'd originally entered, and she wound up more charmed than she suspected it would be. In the event that she could just allow herself to unwind… All things considered, this really seemed to be loads of tomfoolery.
After an hour, Y/N had concluded she most certainly owed Gaeun for hauling her out. She was having a great time, body influencing against others to the profound, thundering bass of the music generally around her, liquor in her veins, and disposing of any excess uneasiness. Gaeun had vanished into the group some time prior, immovably pulling on the hand of a man she had met at the bar while getting them drinks, leaving Y/N all alone to partake in the music. Her head felt light even as she advanced toward the bar, rapidly requesting another fruity beverage. They were delightful, and she was satisfied that she could scarcely taste the nibble of liquor in them, something she'd been watchful about. The pleasantness of peach moved on her tongue as she roosted at the bar, tasting at her beverage joyfully.
“You might want to slow down there, sweetheart.” The voice was deep and rumbling, amusement coloring its tone as a large man moved to slide onto the stool beside her. “You don’t look like you frequent places like this, not if the way you’re drinking is any indication. That’ll hit you like a truck—it tastes good, but it’s dangerous as hell if you aren’t looking to get completely drunk.” The stranger hummed, chocolate eyes glittering with amusement.
The man was certainly older than her; that was the first thing Y/N noticed as hazy green eyes raked over him. Salt and pepper black and gray hair. At least 6 feet tall to her small-statured five foot five. A firm, chiseled jawline that looked like it could have been sculpted by a damned artist. Actually, the rest of him looked like it might have been too—the tight black t-shirt and denim jeans did nothing to hide broad shoulders and a muscular chest.
For a moment, her mouth damn near watered. God, he was handsome. How it was that the other women here weren’t flocking around him, she would never understand. But she certainly wasn’t going to complain, even if she made a face at him, sticking out her tongue. “Is it really that obvious? “
“Absurdly so. Might as well be written on your face.” He chuckled. “So, I know it’s cliché, but I gotta ask. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone at the bar? It seems you should be with someone, dancing and having a good time.”
A giggle escaped her, covering her pink, freckled cheeks with a hand to hide it. “You’re right, that definitely was cliché. Lucky you, you’re right about me being new to all this, so I haven’t heard it a thousand times. I’m with my friend. She’s…” A vague wave of her hand towards the crowd of bodies. “Somewhere in there? She made a new “friend,” and they’re dancing. I just wanted another one of these,” she explained, holding up her drink. “And what about you? A handsome man like yourself, you didn’t come here with someone? What did little old me do to get attention?”
She immediately wanted to cringe and groan. Way to go, Y/N; that was definitely not smooth. He’s going to think you’re an idiot. And I mean, you came here looking for a good time. Well, here’s a guy way out of your league who might just be interested if you could play it cool for half a second.
The stranger laughed, a deep rumbling sound that reverberated through her almost as easily as the music did, the pink on her cheeks deepening. “Nah, I came alone. Name’s Heeseung. And when you’re done with that drink, I’d love to take you out on the floor for a dance, if you wanted mind.” He rolled his eyes, clearly amused. “Come on now, sweetheart. Surely you know how pretty you are, huh? I got eyes in my head. Was a little amazed you weren’t surrounded by men. Clear down the block.”
“Y/N.” She returned, offering her hand, before raising a brow. “Well, aren’t you a sweet talker? Hmmm. You know what they say, Heeseung, flattery will get you everywhere.” She teased, finishing up her drink before standing, wibbling only slightly. “A dance sounds great.”
He didn't hesitate to reach out and steady her, curling her hand within his much larger one as he led her towards the dance floor. “Well damn, it looks like a lucky night for chivalry.” He teased her back, drawing her against that broad chest as they began to sway. “So, Miss Y/N, what would you normally be doing on a night like tonight, if not being too pretty for words at a dingy bar?”
She couldn’t resist snorting in amusement, rolling her eyes up at him. “Silly. I’d typically be in my dorm studying, I suppose. I’m a student at the university. Biology major, nothing too interesting, I’m afraid.” A rueful smile settled on her lips, even as she melted into him, one arm draping around his neck. God, she felt so damned tiny against him, something deep and primal screaming at her about how safe and strong being in his arms felt. Yes, he was definitely perfect for her intended foray into adventure.
“Nothing too interesting, she says, like understanding science isn’t an incredible feat,” he shot back, a playful smile on his lips. “I ain’t anything so clever or fancy. I’m a firefighter. It is tough, dirty work, but it needs to be done. At the very least, I get to come home each night feeling like I’ve made some kind of difference,” he admitted, even as he drew her closer. “Have to admit, this isn’t my usual kind of scene either; the loud noise bothers me sometimes. But tonight? Well, damn, tonight I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad I did too,” she admitted, her free hand settling on his chest. “Handsome and a firefighter? Gotta say, you’re ticking my boxes left and right here.” Y/N teased, leaning up on her toes to brush her lips along his jaw, the alcohol thrumming in her veins long since waving goodbye to any inhibitions she might have. He was strong, gorgeous, and seemingly kind. She wanted him to take her apart. She wasn’t even fully sure of what that meant, but God, her body knew on instinct alone that it had to be him.
“Glad to hear it, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “How many more boxes do you think it would take for me to check off before you let me kiss you?” Heeseung questioned, already cupping her jaw and guiding her gaze upwards to meet his own.
“Not even one.” It was all the warning she gave before she was leaning up on her toes, capturing his lips with her own. At least she knew how to do it—she’d kissed boys in high school and shared fleeting things with guys back home behind her family’s barn. Kissing Heeseung, though… It felt different and sent sparks of electricity rushing through her in a way the guys back home never had.
He didn't even question it. Immediately, he was drawing her closer, one hand sliding under her rear to lift her towards him as he leaned to meet her in kind. His tongue brushed along her lower lip, a silent bid for entry before he was pressing inside to taste her. Fuck, she tasted so sweet, like the peach and mango from the drink she had been sipping only moments before, with the slightest bite of vodka still on her tongue. He guided her slowly into the kiss and showed her how to move against him. He was all too happy to deepen it, to take the time to explore every inch of her, guiding her hips against his own from his hold on her. “Well, thank God, sweetheart.” He groaned against her lips. “Because I thought I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t get to do that soon.”
A soft moan escaped her, her”lips parting without hesitation as he deepened the kiss. It was as though she were running on autopilot, her body knowing exactly what it was that she was aching for, even if she herself didn’t, and it sought it out readily.
Why hadn’t she been allowing herself these delights sooner?
“Heeseung…” she mewled, her fingers tangling in raven locks and tugging as she melted into him, pressing against him more completely. “Please… It feels so good,” she admitted breathlessly, chasing his lips with her own the moment he drew back for breath, greedy for another. “If I asked really nicely, would you take me home and kiss me until I can’t think straight?” She questioned, her voice soft and needy. “Because I’d really like to be able to feel a little more than is appropriate for a dance floor in a dingy club.”
Heeseung raised a brow at her, her lips curving upward in amusement. Forward little thing, wasn’t she? “I think we can certainly arrange that, sweetheart. Why don’t we get your things? You can text your friend; I’ll even give you my address to give her so she knows your safe,” he offered, leaning down to nuzzle into her throat teasingly, suckling at smooth caramel skin until violet began to blossom beneath his touch. “Because frankly, I think I’d like to do a lot more than a dance floor allows for too.”
“Deal.” She agreed, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the coat check. A moment later, she was typing out a text to Gaeun with the details of where she’d be and not to worry, letting Heeseung draw her into his side all too contentedly. He was strong, he was warm, and he was broad. It was as though she fit perfectly against him, as though she had been made to be there.
“I called us a cab while you were texting your friend,” he told her, brushing a kiss on her head and waving down the taxi when it appeared.
Ten minutes later, he was helping her out of the car, leading her to the front step of a cozy-looking white house. She wobbled slightly on her feet, leaning against him for support, even as she clutched at his sleeve. Maybe he was right, and that last drink was a mistake, she mused, all too happy to let him guide her inside.
She wasted no time in pouncing, pressing his larger frame to the door with renewed fervor once it had closed, stealing his lips with her own in a greedy kiss. “Fuck….. can’t tell you how good kissing you feels.” She admitted, her arms winding around his neck, her body pressing against him once more. “Girl could get addicted if she’s not careful.”
Heeseung growled low against her lips, shifting them until her back pressed to the wall, legs under her thighs lifting her, and guiding her legs around his hips as he met each kiss in kind. “You’re one to talk, sweetheart. Such a sweet little thing, you have no idea.” His tongue once more invaded her mouth, taking control with ease, even as she rolled her hips against him feverishly, instinctively telling her to seek out the sweet friction she was missing out on currently. Her head felt hot; it felt like the world was spinning, like she was burning alive in the best way possible, like she couldn’t get a grip on anything.
Y/N woke up in a strange room, nestled down in a bed that was far too comfortable to be her dorm bed. The blankets were soft on her skin, and early morning light cast rays against the bottom of the bed as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Just what in the hell happened last night? Emerald eyes glanced down, widening in surprise. Okay, so the shirt she was in definitely wasn’t hers. For a moment, panic welled up inside of her, glancing around her surroundings frantically until she noticed what lay on the nightstand—a glass of water, two painkillers, and a note.
Morning Sweetheart;
First off, don’t worry. We didn’t go past kissing last night. That last drink of yours hit you pretty fast, and I wasn’t about to take advantage. Here are some painkillers. I imagine your head is hurting. Your clothes are washed and folded on the dresser. When you’re ready, come on downstairs, darlin’. I should have breakfast ready for you by then.
-Heeseung
All at once, it came rushing back to her. The loud, thudding music. She had strong hands on her and a broad waist beneath her legs. Lips met hers feverishly as she stole kiss after kiss. She had suddenly been dizzy and exhausted, barely even able to keep her eyes open. He’d carried her to his room, given her a shirt to wear, and tucked her in for the night.
Well, fuck, that was embarrassing! What was he going to think of her now that she had gotten too drunk off a few fruity drinks to even stay awake? Goddammit… There went her chance to get rid of that stupid virginity too. Gratefully, she reached for the pills and water, popping them back with ease, even as she made a promise to herself to never drink again. It wasn’t worth it if the way her head was feeling right now was anything to go by.
Y/N groaned, dragging a hand down her face and setting the cup back on the nightstand. Okay, time to evaluate—she had options here. She could get dressed, sneak downstairs, and pretend like nothing had ever happened. Or she could stay burrowed in his shirt, go down to see what the breakfast he’d mentioned was, and see if he’d still let her try again. If she were being honest with herself, she would have preferred the second option. He was handsome, kind, and apparently caring enough to tuck a strange girl in his bed because she’d drank too much. She definitely wanted her first time to be with him.
Well. That settled it, then.
She slid out of bed, moving towards the dresser mirror long enough to run her fingers through her hair, making sure crimson curls at least looked presentable before padding down the hallway and a large staircase. The scent of bacon and eggs hit her immediately, making her mouth water as she followed it to where she presumed the kitchen to be. Silently, she walked up behind him, sliding slender arms around his waist from behind, burying her face in the broad expanse of uncovered, muscled back.
“Well, good morning to you too, baby.” He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I’m guessing you found the note and painkillers, huh? Poor baby, I bet your head is pounding. Go sit down and get comfy. Breakfast just needs to be plated up. Bacon and eggs will get rid of any hangover you might have, I promise.”
Y/N found herself reluctant to let go, brushing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades before forcing herself to take a step back. “I did. Thank you so much for that, by the way. I’m so sorry I fell asleep; you must think me such an idiot.” She groaned, dragging a tired hand down her face, even as she obediently perched in one of the kitchen chairs. “I promise, I really did want to come home with you. I wanted you. Want you.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that we’re at least still on the same page, princess.” He hummed, plating up her food and setting it in front of her, kissing her head tenderly before taking a seat opposite the girl. “Nah, I don’t think you’re an idiot. You already told me it was your first time out like that. I’m guessing it was your first time drinking too?” A little laugh escaped him at the glum nod of her head, the crimson dancing along freckled caramel cheeks. “It’s alright, baby. You eat up, and if you still want me after you have some food in your stomach, well…The corner of his lips tilted upwards in an amused little smirk. “I’m sure we can figure out what to do about that.”
She paused, her emerald eyes widening and her hand pausing with the fork mid-air as her gaze shot up to meet his. “Really? Even after all that, you still want me?” She questioned, shy hesitation creeping into her voice.
“Mmm. Maybe you just look too good in my shirt, sweetheart. Maybe I haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing you, feeling you under my hands. Maybe I dreamed about how pretty you’d look coming undone.” Heeseung hummed calmly, as though the admission were nothing at all, though mischief twinkled in his eyes as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, taking a long sip. “First things first, though. Eat. I promise it’ll make you feel much better.” He cajoled softly.
“Alright, alright.” She agreed, though the crimson on her cheeks remained. Admittedly….. The bacon and eggs looked and smelled utterly delicious. And when she had finished moments later, she had to admit it was already helping her feel a little bit better, her migraine finally beginning to let up.
Y/N paused for a moment before she was sliding out of her seat, padding around the table to slip onto his lap, straddling him carefully, and draping her arms around her neck. Was it far bolder than she normally was? Yes, but God, she ached for this man. Had been aching. “I should probably warn you,” she admitted, even as she instinctively rolled her hips down against him. “I’ve never done this before, so I may not know exactly what I’m doing.”
A low groan escaped him as she rocked against him, the shirt doing little to act as a barrier between them. “Hey, that’s completely okay, sweetheart. I know more than enough for both of us, okay? All I need you to do is tell me if anything is too much.” He dipped his head, lips brushing along her throat, leaving a scatter of dark marks in their wake. God, she looked beautiful with his marks, and he couldn't help but commit each little mewl that fell from her lips to memory.
“Tell you what, baby. Why don’t we start nice and easy, huh? I’ll pick you up, real safe and sound, and carry you upstairs. We can take a nice, hot shower together. I’ll kiss the ever-loving hell out of you and get you feeling nice and relaxed for me, hmm? I promise, I’ll take such good care of you.” He kissed his way back up her jaw, cupping her face as he stole her lips with his own. He could get drunk off kissing her; he knew he could.
“Fuck…” she moaned, tipping her head to grant him access to her throat, her fingers tangling in dark locks and clutching on tightly. “Heeseung, please~! “She mewled, unsure of what exactly it was she was asking for. All she knew was that she needed more, needed everything this man could show her, could give her. It was as though some deep, primal part of her had now awoken and was aching only for him.
She met the kiss in kind, heat pooling once more in her stomach, blinding and hot as it coiled and uncoiled, slick already pooling between her thighs, dampening the soft lace that lay between her legs. Even though this had her delirious from pleasure, how much better would it be when she had him touching her? “Shower sounds good.” She agreed breathlessly. “God, yeah, I want that. I want you to touch me so badly. I want you to teach me. Please, Heeseung? ”
“How on earth can I say no to that?” He picked her up with ease, guiding her legs back around his hips as he made quick work of carrying her up to the bathroom, settling her onto the counter with another feverish kiss. “Good girl. Not much longer now, I promise I’ll give you everything you need. Just be a good girl and wait just a moment longer for me.” He ordered softly, reluctantly drawing back. He set to work, turning on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right before kicking off his own sleep pants and turning back to her.
Her mouth goddamn near watered at the sight of him. Firm, muscled thighs to match the rest of him, and… Oh God, he was already so hard. Surely not all of that would be able to fit inside of her! She took a breath, licking her lips in anticipation, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him just yet.
“Come here, beautiful,” he cajoled, helping her back off the counter before his fingers hooked in the hem of his shirt, tugging soft cotton up and over her head. “So gorgeous. You make me want to absolutely ravish you, baby. Cover you in my marks so no man can touch you but me.” A low, possessive growl escaped him as he drew her close, dipping his head to nip along her collarbone, even as his once large, calloused hand lifted to gently cradle her breast. “So perfect for me, I bet you’ll be an angel coming undone.”
A moan left her as his thumb brushed along her nipple teasingly, pressing her hips against him. The feeling of his cock pressing against her was all at once terrifying and thrilling. Shy fingers moved until they could slide between their bodies, curling around him curiously.
Heeseung couldn’t help but moan, tipping his head against her shoulder and nipping at the soft caramel skin once more. “Fuck….. feels good, baby.” Reluctantly, he drew away from her, kissing her head. “Into the shower, sweetheart. I promise I’ll keep touching you, but at this rate, we’ll never make it in.”
His fingers hooked In the hem of her pants, letting them slide down her thighs, before he caught her hand in his own, guiding her under the hot spray carefully, just to step in behind her. It was no hard task to tug her back to his chest, running his hands smoothly over her skin beneath the hot spray. One hand cupped a supple breast once more, the other sneaking it’s way down over her stomach. “Remember, if anything doesn’t feel good, I need you to tell me, okay? ”
The hand continued Its journey downward, drawing needy whines and mewls from her lips as they slid between her thighs, stroking over slick folds. “You’re already so hot and wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N? ”He groaned, the digits easing inside to stroke over the delicate little nub above her entrance, teasing it with skillful little twists of his fingertips against her.
Oh. Oh, that felt incredible. Her eyes widened, a sharp and needy whine escaping her lips as she leaned back into him, her hips rocking into his touch. “Heeseung, please! “Y/N gasped, reaching out to clutch at the wall for purchase. “Oh God, don’t stop, please.”
It was unlike anything she had ever felt before—hot and sharp, the heat in her stomach coiling even tighter as his fingers slid lower, two easing inside. Her legs trembled, weak in the knees, as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist to steady her.
There’s a good girl… Fuck, you feel so hot and tight around my fingers, sweetheart. I bet you’ll feel even better around my cock.” He crooned, his voice a husky rumble in her ear before his lips were once again finding her throat. It was as though he couldn’t get enough—something deep and possessive urging him to leave more and more marks until it would be impossible to miss them.
God, he ached to bury himself in her right now. But he had to be patient. He wanted her to be nice and relaxed for him, and he wanted her first time to be good to her. It was something special she was offering up to him, and he would be damned if he wasted that. “Come on, sweetheart.” He moaned low against her throat, beginning to thrust the digits into her. It wouldn’t take much, he imagined, if no one had touched her this way, and he wanted to watch her fall apart on his fingers before he took her to his bed.
Heat bubbled within her, blindingly hot and dizzying, as she rocked into his touch, desperate to meet each thrust of his fingers in kind. It felt strange; it felt foreign, but it felt amazing. Even just the two digits stretched her open more than she’d ever had before, and when he curled his fingertips to drag along slick walls, she swore she’d seen stars.
He was definitely the right choice.
A moment later, she found herself tipping over the edge, unable to hold back, as her first orgasm hit her hard and fast. “Heeseung!” The cry was sharp, bouncing off the tiled walls to echo through the room as he continued rocking the digits within her, helping her ride out her high.
“Good girl. That’s my good girl,” he praised, slowly pulling the digits out. He chuckled at her whine, kissing the top of her head. “I know. I know, sweetheart. But I don’t think my fingers are enough, huh? So I’m going to pick you up and carry you to my bed. I’m going to lay you out pretty beneath me, and I’m going to make sure you scream.
He turned her carefully, scooping her up bridal style, stealing kiss after feverish kiss as he stepped out of the shower, careful not to slip. He didn’t care that they were both soaked; the sheets would dry. No, all that mattered right now was burying himself in her, making this pretty little thing his.
Y/N clutched on tightly as she was carried, brushing soft, needy kisses and nips to his neck and shoulders as he held her close. All her inhibitions and nerves melted away into nothing—no, there was only this handsome man and his skillful touch. She had no idea that it could be like this, and it was dizzying how badly she wanted more.
Heeseung laid her out gently, guiding her legs apart before moving between them and stealing her lips in a feverish kiss. He wasted no time—no, he needed her now. His hand gripped himself tight as he guided his aching cock against her folds, sinking home in one firm thrust, burying himself to the hilt within her.
Her moan was lost against his lips, her sharp gasp swallowed down as his tongue once more invaded her mouth, exploring every crevice it could, claiming it as his own as his cock did the same. It was overwhelming, but not bad. She felt so damn full. The stretch burned just a little, but that did nothing to diminish her desire. If anything, it left her feeling even more sensitive, with her arms draping around his neck and her legs hooking around his waist.
“Heeseung… fuck fuck fuck, please!”
It seemed as though he needed to be told twice. His hands cupped her hips and slid under her rear as he began to set a fast, hard pace, using his grip on her to guide her up into each rough, unforgiving thrust. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. All mine now; you know that, don’t you? I’m going to fill you up, sweetheart; I’m going to fill you up with my cum; I’m going to claim you inside and out.” He was unsure where the words came from; he’d never been the possessive type, but something about her drove him wild. She was just so damn perfect for him. “Going to breed you, baby, going to fill you so good your stomach swells, so good everyone knows you’re off limits.”
She didn’t know why the idea of that got to her the way it did. She’d never been interested in even the idea of having kids, and the notion of actually being kept had always been more viewed as a hindrance to her schooling and her future career plans. And yet, the thought of her stomach swelling up with his child and of him actually wanting to keep her was even more intoxicating to her.
“Do it!” She mewled, her fingers tangling in his hair, drawing him back in for another desperate kiss. “Please, fuck, I want that so badly, Heeseung. I want everyone to know I’m yours! God, I need it, I need to be full, please, please, please. I’ll be so good for you, please.”
It was as though he had awakened something deep within her and left her wanting for him alone. Each sharp, hard thrust stole her breath and had her gasping and mewling as she writhed beneath him, unable to do much more than simply hang on for the ride.
“I’m so close, baby girl. Just a little more, and I’ll fill you up.” He promised, kissing her over and over again. If he had his way, he was never letting her go. She was his now, and he’d do everything in his power to convince her to stay. One last sharp, and he was spilling himself inside of her with a sharp growl, stealing her lips in one last domineering kiss as he pressed deep, let his seed fill her completely.
Her body tightened around him, as though trying to milk him for everything he had, the feeling of hot liquid rushing inside of her sending her over the edge once more. Her fingers found his back, her nails clawing and scratching as she scrabbled for purchase to ride out her moans and sobs of delight escaping her lips.
He fucked her through It hard before finally falling beside her, rolling them until he was comfortably on his back, drawing her to lay atop him in a way that let him stay buried in that slick heat, dragging a comforter up over them.
“Feeling good, baby?” he questioned, carding a gentle hand through her hair even as she snuggled all too contentedly into him. God, she was cute…
“So good,” she agreed, her voice breathless and sleepy as she nuzzled into his chest. “Did you really mean it? About keeping me? ”
“I did,” Heeseung promised, surprised to find just how much he meant that. “I know it might be a little bit backwards considering… but I’d really like to try this with you, sweetheart. I hate the idea of you leaving my arms, of you being too far away. Is that alright, baby? I know you have your studies, and I have work, and both those things can be a little crazy. But if you let me, I promise I’ll do such a good job taking care of you.”
“I…” She hesitated for only a moment, biting her lip nervously. It was supposed to only be a one-night stand, just her taking control to lose her virginity and shut up her friends. But if this handsome, strong man who made her feel so fucking good and so incredibly safe actually wanted her… Who was she to say no?
“Alright,” she agreed softly, brushing kisses along his collarbone sleepily. “I can’t promise I’ll be any good at this; I haven’t really dated very much, and school has always been my priority. But if you really want to try this, we can try.” Y/N agreed, her eyes heavy.
Heeseung couldn’t help a fond chuckle, her hand sliding to caress her back sweetly beneath the blanket. She was so damn cute. “There’s my good girl. I’ll help you learn, okay? We’ll figure it out together as we go. Poor little honey, I think that second orgasm really hit you hard. Why don’t you get some sleep, sweetheart? We can figure it all out when…” He paused, glancing down at her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and her fingers curled against his chest. “Huh. Guess I didn’t need to do much coaxing there.” He murmured to himself, rolling his eyes in amusement.
Content that she was safe and happy, he let his own eyes grow heavy, joining her in sleep a moment later.
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ashcal99 · 4 months
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Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale VIII
Chapter Eight
"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"
Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.
Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, blood
Words: 8k
A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. I'm backkkkk. Hope you enjoy x
Soundtrack
Previous Chapter
Series Masterlist
——————
February 6th, 2005
Camila’s Sunday had been a fairly uneventful day, having spent the majority of it on the couch with her mother. The two had spent their afternoon watching some of the movies they had recently unpacked from the move. Camila had been happy to spend some much needed quality time with her mother and even happier to spend that time avoiding the topic that had been weighing on the family heavily for the past week. In reality, she didn’t actually know how many more good days with her mother she was going to get by the end of all of this, and she wanted to cherish whatever time she had left. 
Her mother had just popped in the second tape for the movie Titanic when her father arrived home, arms full with two large pizza boxes as he dropped his things by the door. Camila’s face blossomed into a bright smile. Regardless of her dwindling appetite, pizza would always be her favorite and she couldn’t have thought of a more ideal evening with her parents. So the family sat together, watching as the movie’s plot took a rather unfortunate turn for disaster, eating their greasy pizza off of paper plates. 
Of course, in the end, as it always happened, no matter how much Camila had hoped for a different outcome, the lovely Jack Dawson had frozen to death holding the hand of his lover and she was left to wonder if she would end up leaving Jasper in a similar state of despair when her time was up. Deep down she knew that his offer of eternity in his arms was growing more and more tempting and the likelihood of her ever leaving his side was dwindling as the days passed by. Her feelings for him were growing day by day as well and she was well past the point of no return she feared. 
Being in love was a scary and vulnerable thing as it was, but given everything else about her situation, it was nothing less than terrifying, albeit a good kind of terrifying. Her thoughts had become an endless cycle of him, and she knew she was done for. The idea of being in love so quickly would’ve made her scoff and roll her eyes previously, but now that she found herself very much in love with Jasper, she knew that what she had once thought was impossible was the truth. 
The feelings she held in her heart for Jasper triumphed any idea of love she had previously held. She had never been one to believe in the foolish idea of love at first sight, but as she looked back at the moment she had met him she couldn’t imagine anything closer to describe it as. She knew that if she already felt this strongly for him, that her feelings would only grow to an incomprehensible intensity with time.
It was after the sun had set when he had come knocking on her window, giving the glass a light tap with his knuckles as a warning before he entered through the opening into her bedroom. She had given him a small tired smile, gesturing for him to join her on the bed. He moved forward, sinking into his usual spot as she took hers with her head on his chest, letting out a sigh of contentment. 
“How was the game?” She asked, bringing her hand up to lay on the soft cotton of his t-shirt. 
Jasper smiled, wrapping an arm around her protectively. “It was good, Patriots won.” He said simply, knowing she was just being polite in asking, having no interest in the game herself. 
In all truth, he hadn’t spent much of his time actually paying attention to the sport, his thoughts being rather caught up on the girl who was currently curled up against him. He tried his best to show interest as he knew that Emmet had been looking forward to it, but he couldn’t help but be disappointed at his past self for promising to spend the day away from Camila. Of course, at the time he had no idea that he would be missing school the two days that followed, which had definitely added to the torture. Torture that was given brief recesses by his nightly visits. 
“That’s good, I’m glad you enjoyed it…” She said, trailing off into a yawn, covering her mouth with her palm. “I’m sorry, I promise you’re not boring me, I’m just so exhausted.” She explained, slightly disappointed in herself as she had been looking forward to seeing him all day and knew that his presence would be missed at school the next morning. 
He sighed, running his fingers delicately along her spine, raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin. “You don’t need to apologize Darlin’, sleep.” He said, laying a kiss on her head as he breathed in the comforting scent of her. 
“You won’t be bored?” She asked, looking up at him through her lashes as she attempted to fight the sleep off. 
Jasper smiled lightly. “Is it creepy if I said that I actually enjoy watching you sleep?” He asked, arching a curious brow at her. 
Camila snickered softly. “A little bit.” She admitted cheekily. 
Jasper’s chest shook with a slight chuckle at her bluntness. “I can’t help it, you just look so peaceful.” He explained, giving her a bright smile, teeth shining in the moonlight. 
Camila lifted her head slightly, getting a better look of the beautiful smile he had been graciously sharing with her. “Do you ever miss being able to sleep?” She asked, curiosity coursing through her. 
He looked up in though for a moment, eyes coming back, meeting her own as he gave his answer. “Sometimes. It’s been so long, so I don’t really know what I’m missing out on I suppose.” He admitted, his cool fingers lifting to brush the hair from her face. He leaned forwards slightly, pressing his lips lightly to hers in a soft kiss, breaking away with a grin as he listened to her heart rate pick up from the touch. “Stop stalling, sleep.” He urged. 
Camila groaned, rolling her eyes playfully as she lowered her head back to his chest. “Fine.” She muttered, letting her eyes flutter closed. 
Jasper’s eyes lingered on her sleeping frame as he concentrated on the beating of her heart. Her tank top hung loosely on her frail shoulders, her chest slowly rising and falling as she sucked in the deep breaths of sleep. 
The burn in his throat persisted, Camila’s parents’ blood pumping heavily through their veins in such close proximity. Although he knew that his thirst hadn’t wavered, being so near the humans had grown easier to manage over time. Easier to let his mind wander on thoughts of Camila rather than thoughts of bloodlust. It was times like these that he missed being able to sleep, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms and be able to dream of her. 
So, instead he spent this time day dreaming of her. Day dreaming of the future they may one day have with each other. Thoughts of being able to not only drape his arm around her body, but truly hold her. He knew that he was getting carried away, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it that when he pictured his future, she was always there at his side, or rather she was there in the forefront, his future itself.
——————
February 7th, 2005
Camila awoke in the morning to her mother gently shaking her. Vaguely, she remembered, a half asleep goodbye from Jasper, followed by a soft peck to her forehead that must have happened only minutes before. A frown settled on her face, not yet mentally prepared to face the day without her favorite person by her side. She knew she would see him later, that much he had assured her, but that didn’t stop her from dreading spending the next two school days without him in attendance. 
She was however, looking forward to seeing Angela once more, slightly giddy at the fact that she would be able to tell her that Jasper was now officially her boyfriend. She had refrained from telling her mother of this, knowing that it would only raise questions, besides, her mother knew her too well, and the last thing she really needed was a confirmation. 
So she had begrudgingly pulled herself out of bed and into the shower. The cool stream of water stifled the heat of her skin as the stream ran down her spine. Gravity weighed down on her bones, a deep ache radiating through her body. She would be sure to take her meds today, knowing that the pain would only intensify as the hours went on. Although she hated to rely on the pills, she knew that it was necessary, especially given the fact that Jasper would not be there to help distract her. 
The ride to Forks High School was rather quiet, the air around her and her mother filled with soft crunching of Camila’s protein bar. She forced herself to swallow the unsavory food, knowing that she needed the nutrients, regardless of how much she hated the aftertaste. When the van finally came to a stop in front of the dreary building. She quickly stuffed the remainder of her breakfast in her mouth, grabbing her bottle of water as she mumbled something resembling a goodbye to her mother, giving a quick side hug to the woman. 
The fluorescent lit hallways were filled with cheerful chatter, no doubt a side effect of the irregularly sunny day. The ring of the bell rang shrilly signaling the time for first period, and she was surprisingly happy to sit down in the class. The teacher quickly gave them work to do in pairs and she was thankful to be able to speak to the girl without risking getting in trouble for talking in class. 
“Soooo…” She drew out dramatically, gaining the attention of the girl sitting next to her. Angela looked to her, eyes peering over the rim of her glasses quizzically. “Jasper may or may not officially be my boyfriend now.” She informed, watching as a giant smile formed on the girl’s lips in response. 
“Oh my god. I knew it!” She squealed in delight, teeth shining in the fluorescent lighting. “Tell me more, I’m begging.” She said, dramatically clutching her hands together as she pushed her bottom lip out in a pout. 
Camila smiled lightly, a bright blush covering her cheeks as she thought of what to tell the girl that wouldn’t give too much away. “I met his parents this weekend.” She said, opting to add Carlisle in on the meeting as she shouldn’t have had any reason to have met him previously.
Angela’s eyes widened dramatically. “Woah, that’s kinda serious, huh?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows playfully. 
The heat burned red hot on her face as Camila looked down at the workbook in front of her bashfully. “Kinda, yeah.” She muttered, smile unwavering from her lips. 
“So they’re ridiculously attractive too, right?” Angela asked, nudging the girl’s shoulder. 
Camila snickered lightly. “Of course.” She admitted. 
Angela perked up in her seat. “So, does this mean that he’s going to take you to prom now?” She asked expectantly, grinning from ear to ear. 
Camila’s smile dropped slightly, forcing herself to not let it falter completely. “No.” She said simply, watching as Angela gave an indignant pout. “We already had plans to spend time with each other, and I’m not much of a prom kind of girl I guess.” She explained feebly, hoping the girl would except her answer without much fuss.
Angela sighed disappointedly. “Fine.” She grumbled.
“But don’t worry.” Camila chirped. “I promise to help find the best dress for you.” She said, smiling brightly. Angela’s lips quirked up in answer, happy to hear the words, and conversation quickly changed topic to getting their work done, neither of the two wanting to have to take the work home to do that night instead. 
——————
Jasper’s day had drug on at a ridiculously slow pace, the absence of Camila glaringly obvious as he attempted feebly to read one of the books off of his shelves. His eyes scanned the pages, knowing deep down that it was of no use. He wasn’t actually absorbing any of the information, as his mind was clearly elsewhere. He wondered, as he recalled the time before he had met Camila, which in reality had only been a short time ago, how he had occupied his time like this. It now all seemed so monotonous, the same books over and over again, growing bored quickly of them, regardless of how much he had previously cared for the stories. He knew them all by heart by now and he made a mental note to try and get some new book recommendations later from Camila.
Once again, his mind had quickly returned to thoughts of the girl. Shocker. How was he expected to have to do this whole thing again just a day later. It was already torture enough as it was. At least, he reminded himself, that he would have the night that he would be able to see her, even if it was just to be in her company as she slept. It surprised him that such a thing didn’t bore him, although he did understand the appeal. The feel of her warm skin against his own cool body, the steady beat of her heart in his ears, everything was a reminder that, at least for now, she was alive and with him. While at the moment, being away from her felt like nothing but a waste of their time. 
Jasper looked over to the clock on the wall for what had to be the thousandth time that day. She would be leaving school now, just that much closer to when he would be able to see her. He would have to wait until the sun set of course. His family were supposed to be out of town camping, so he knew he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him, regardless of if he were to be seen in direct sunlight or not. 
It was days like this that made him question the humans in the town’s intelligence, them all seeming to except their rather lousy excuse for missing school fairly easily. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that most people viewed them as outcasts already, but really, what parent would agree to pull their kids out from school just because it happened to be a sunny day? He supposed he should be grateful for their ignorance, but at the moment, all he could do was stare impatiently at the pages of his book, willing time to somehow go by faster. 
After an agonizing wait in which felt like eternity, the sun had finally set, and in a blink of an eye, he had fled the glass house, determined to make this the fastest run of his life. As the small pale yellow house came into view, he felt like he could breath again. In truth, he hadn’t noticed the weight on his chest until it had lifted. Unlike their usual routine, when Jasper rounded the corner, he could see her, sitting at the open window, gazing out at the night sky. When her eyes finally met his own, a small smile spread across her face.
“I got overheated.” She explained, stepping back from the open window to allow him inside. It was the truth, one of the many side effects of her illness had caused her to have hot flashes and she had awoken in a particularly bad one at that, but she would be lying if she had said it was the only reason she had been staring out into the wilderness that night. She hadn’t realized just how difficult it would be for her to miss Jasper’s company that day, having already had a drastically decreased amount of time with him that weekend, and she had been counting down the minutes until sunset. 
Jasper smiled, pulling her into his cool chest, knowing that the temperature difference would help sooth her without the risk of catching a cold from the chilled February night air. Her face nuzzled into the icy fabric of his clothing, sighing as she allowed herself the comfort of his embrace. All too soon, Jasper parted ways, only to shut the window and drag her to her bed to get comfortable, pulling her back into himself. 
“How was school?” He asked, muttering the words into her hair as he rested his head atop hers. 
She groaned out a dramatic sound. “Horrible.” She said bluntly, earning a laugh from the golden haired vampire. 
He rolled his eyes playfully at her words. “It couldn’t have been that bad, could it?” He asked. 
Camila lifted her body, coming to a seat next to him as he wrapped his arm securely around her waist. “Yes actually.” She stated matter of factly. She thought for a moment, looking for the right words that wouldn’t make it seem like his absence alone had completely ruined her day. “It was nice to see Angela and Bella, but Tyler wouldn’t leave me alone.” She groaned out. 
Camila had been lucky to avoid Tyler for the most part, but unfortunately, he had of course taken notice of Jasper’s absence and had decided that it was the best time to try and be friends again. Much to her annoyance, he had talked her ear off during lunch and only continued to do so on their way to biology class. All of the talking had created a particularly horrible headache behind her brow and she begged whatever higher power there was that he would shut up for once in his life. 
She internally scolded herself for being continuously friendly to him, but realistically, it wasn’t like she could just turn around and be an ass to him when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong since he had apologized. Unfortunately for herself, she had convinced herself to be as kind as possible to everybody unless given a reason not to be. The reality of it was that she didn’t have the time nor energy to be unkind, something the she was starting to question was showing to be true in this case.
By the time their calculous class came around, she was for once happy to have silence. Although she would have much preferred to have Jasper’s company, she was glad to have peace and quiet for the first time that day. She had never been so thankful that they had assigned seats and Tyler was stuck far away from her, finally giving her space to breath. Her head had continued to pound relentlessly as she counted down the minutes until she would be able to return home, take her meds, and sleep off the migraine. A sleep that she had just recently woken from.
Tyler. The boys name had caused Jasper’s body to stiffen. He knew it wasn’t his right to be bothered by him, but in all truth he couldn’t stand the boy. Maybe it was mostly jealousy, but he had jus rubbed him the wrong way from the beginning. “He wouldn’t shut up, and I’m not trying to be rude, but we aren’t even really friends and he was giving me a headache.” She admitted, a grimace casted on her face. 
Jasper laughed lightly, relieved that the boy hadn’t gone and upset her with his words yet again. “Only one more day, and we’ll be back. I promise to scare him off.” He joked, a smirk unwavering on his lips. 
Camila threw her head back in a groan as she pouted her lips childishly, Jasper desperately wanting to kiss the pout away. “I don’t know if I’ll make it.” She said dramatically.
Jasper leaned forwards, bringing his lips to hers, deciding to not hold back any longer as he gave her a light kiss upon her lips. She smiled into his touch, the playful pout melting instantly as she molded her mouth to his. He pulled away, not allowing the kiss to last too long. He gave her a sheepish smile before speaking. “If it makes you feel any better, I was almost bored to death without you.” He admitted. 
Camila smiled lightly, glad to know that the ‘torture’ was not one sided. One more day and he would be back, she could do it, right? “I’m almost tempted to skip tomorrow.” She admitted. “But I promised Angela that I would go prom dress shopping with her in Port Angeles after school, so I can’t really act sick for half the day very easily.” She continued. 
Jasper quirked an eyebrow at his girlfriend. “Are we going to prom?” He asked confused. He had been sure the event had been off of the table given her physical limitations, but now he wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she had changed her mind now that they were dating. Maybe it was him who dropped the ball when he hadn’t asked to make sure his theory was correct.
She shook her head. “No, defiantly not. Even if I could go, I don’t think I’d want to. I’d rather just spend time alone with you.” She admitted, allowing Jasper to let out an internal sigh of relief. “I just promised to help her find a dress is all.” She said. 
He nodded his head in understanding, ignoring the lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, the idea of her being out in the city without him made a chill go up his spine, even if the reality of it was impossible. Realistically what could go wrong? She would be out with friends and she would be able to sit the majority of the time. Regardless, he couldn’t shake the feeling of something bad happening. “Text me if you need me to pick you up early.” He said, receiving a gracious nod from her in response. 
He tried his best to shake his unease as he sat with her, holding her, and allowing the touch of her blazing skin on his own to calm the racing thoughts in his mind. He changed the subject, remembering to ask for book recommendations as he attempted to steer his mind from the unnecessary panic that refused to leave. 
——————
February 8th, 2005
Camila had never wished more to take her jacket off, the heat of the day causing a sheen of sweet to cover her forehead, despite the temperature not being above seventy. Of course, the entire school had decided to sit outdoors, given the ‘beautiful’ weather, and the long sleeves that she wore were beginning to stick to her skin. She wondered briefly if it was worth it to try and cover the bruises with makeup rather than the extra layer of fabric. 
Her thoughts halted as she realized that this solution would only end up solving one of her two issues. Her bones would still continue to protrude from her muscles, something that was sure to only get worse as she grew sicker and sicker. The last thing she needed was people growing concerned of her health in any way shape or form. 
She shook the thoughts from her head, looking up from the unappetizing food to Bella who was sat opposite on the picnic table. The girl’s eyes wandered around at the crowd of students gathered in the unusual sunny grounds, seemingly anxious about something. “He’s not here.” Jessica spoke from her spot atop the table where she perched soaking in the rays of sunshine. Bella looked up, slightly embarrassed that she had been caught looking for him. “Whenever the weather’s nice, the Cullens disappear.” She explained, eyes closed as her face tilted up towards they sky. 
Bella looked to her, slightly confused. “What, do they just ditch?” She asked curiously.
“No, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen yank them out for, like hiking and camping and stuff.” Jessica explained. Camila hummed, a small smirk forming on her lips. Was this really the excuse they had come up with? It was kind of lame is she was being honest. Very vague at lease, but did she really expect anything else at this point? “I tried that out on my parents. Not even close.” Jessica continued, earning a snicker from Camila.
Angela rushed towards the group, her long brunette hair falling over her shoulders as she settled into a spot next to Bella. “Bella, are you sure you have to go out of town for prom? Camila isn’t going either. It’s going to be lonely without you guys.” She said, giving a dramatic pout. 
Bella grimaced at the question, seemingly just as perturbed as anytime Camila had been asked about the topic. “Oh, yeah, it’s a little family thing.” She explained dismissively. She turned to Camila, arching an eyebrow at the girl. “You’re not going?” She asked, surprised by the fact that she had not been the only one in the small town that hadn’t wished to attend the event. 
“What? Couldn’t find a date?” Jessica asked, attempting to pass the snide remark off as a playful joke. Camila’s face dropped, giving her a slight glare not allowing the girl’s comment to pass without a reaction from her. 
Angela perked up, wanting to defend her new friend. “Actually, her and Jasper are dating, but apparently neither of them wanted to go, so they made other plans.” She said, smiling as she gave Camila a teasing glance, causing a blush to creep up to her cheeks. Of course, anytime anyone mentioned him, she had to blush like a little girl with a crush. Honestly, who was she kidding? She wasn’t any better than that anyway. 
Jessica grimaced at the information, muttering something about Jasper ‘being even more of a weirdo than Alice’, earning an even more intense glare from Camila. “Okay, are we still good to go shopping in Port Angeles? I want to go before all the good dresses get cleaned out.” She asked Angela, deflecting the negative attention from the girl beside her. 
Angela nodded enthusiastically, smiling at Camila as she nodded as well. A shrill bell rang throughout the courtyard, signaling the end of the lunch period. Camila stood, grabbing her lunch tray from the table, attempting to hide how little she had eaten from the greasy array of food with her crumpled up napkin. 
Bella hesitated as the students began to head inside for the next half of classes for the day. “Port Angeles? You mind if I come?” Bella asked.
“Yeah, I need your opinion.” Angela said, grinning widely. Camila sighed, happy that she would have another friend there as a buffer between her and Jessica. It was no secret that the two didn’t like each other. Jessica clearly didn’t like to be talked back to in any sense of the phrase, and Camila wasn’t one to just sit there and take her bullying lightly. The two were bound to butt heads, but luckily she would have Angela and Bella there to lighten the blow of the inevitable disagreements that were to come.
——————
“I like this one, but, like I don’t know about the whole one shoulder thing.” Jessica said, holding the pink spaghetti strap dress in front of her body in the mirror to get a good look at herself. Angela nodded saying something about how the color looked good against her skin. 
Angela held up a dress of her own. “I like this one. What do you think?” She asked Camila expectantly, a bright look in her eye. 
Camila smiles taking in the sight before her, trying her best not to grimace as the headache pounding behind her temple got worse. “Yeah, I like the beading, and you wouldn’t need jewelry.” She argued, giving her best effort in sounding like she was interested and not like she was in a lot of pain. She pulled at the collar of her shirt, a cold sweat covering her forehead. Great, another hot flash, just what she needed.
They had been in the same dress shop from what seemed like hours and had barely gotten anywhere when it came to actually finding dressed for the two girls in front if her. Of course, within that time, her pain meds had completely worn off and the ache in her bones was beginning to rival the pounding in her head.
Angela turned. “Jess, what do you think? Lavender?” She asked the girl, gesturing to dress she was currently wearing. “Is that good? Is that my color?” She continued, fidgeting with the fabric that clung to her body. 
“I like it.” Jessica said quickly. “I like that dusty rose one, too.” She said, turning back to the mirror to admire her own reflection. “Okay, I like this one. It makes my boobs look good.” She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 
Knocking on the glass of the window behind her, Camila turned to see a group of four men passing by, all ogling over the girls in the shop before them. “Nice!” One of them yelled, loud enough for the group of girls to hear them through the glass. Camila grimaced lightly at the interaction.
Jessica scoffed, clearly flattered given the wide grin on her face. “That is uncomfortable.” She said, voice trailing off. 
“That’s disgusting.” Bella muttered, looking down at the book in her hands, earning an absent minded nod from Camila. 
Jessica perked up once more. “Bella, what do you think?” She asked. 
Bella looked up, finally giving the two dresses attention as her eyes left the pages of her book. “That looks great.” She said dismissively.
“You said that about, like, the last five dresses, though.” She said, smile dropping slightly as she twirled her hair around her finger. 
Bella smiled bashfully. “I thought they were all pretty good.” She said, laughing lightly. 
Angela looked towards the two girls sitting on the cushioned bench. “You guys aren’t really into this are you?” She asked frowning. 
Camila’s smile dropped, feeling bad that she wasn’t giving Angela the experience she had been looking for. She was trying to sounds enthusiastic, but if she was being honest, she really didn’t care about the dresses at all. All she had wanted was to spend some time with friends outside of school, but now, with the music playing throughout the store, the bright lights, and the hundreds of questions about her opinion of the different dresses they had tried on over the past hour, she was just tired and overstimulated. The pounding of her temples proved that she couldn’t take it much longer. 
“I actually really just want to go to this bookstore.” Bella admitted, giving an apologetic smile. “I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant?” She suggested.
Camila’s ears perked up at this, a perfect excuse to finally leave this god forsaken dress shop. “Do you mind if I come with? I could use some fresh air.” She asked, knowing she would most likely regret it soon, needing to walk to the book shop, but not being able to help herself. If she was being honest, she was almost certain that if she stayed in this shop one more minute her head might explode. Bella nodded, grabbing her coat before leading the way to the door outside. 
Camila let out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit her face, glad to finally be free of the stuffy environment of the shop. Pain ricocheted up her legs as her steps landed on the pavement, attempting to give the pain little thought as she was just glad to have some quiet and cool air on her skin. It frustrated her to no end of course that she was incapable of doing such a simple thing as going shopping with friends, but she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought something like this was likely to happen. She would, however, enjoy it while it lasted, knowing she wouldn’t even have the opportunity to do so for much longer.
It was moments like this that made her happy that Bella was a particularly quiet person, and if she was being honest, she quite enjoyed the girls silent company. Her migraine was finally starting to subside as the small book shop came into view. Camila gave Bella a soft smile as she opted to stay outside in the cool air. She checked behind her, to make sure the girl had entered the shop before tearing the long sleeved zip-up hoodie from her frail arms, letting a sigh of relief leave her lips as the cool wind hit her blazing skin. 
She looked down at the pale skin the stretched loosely across her arms, the area scattered with varying shades of bruises. She knew she would only have a moment of sweet relief before Bella returned, so she closed her eyes and chose to savor the time she had been allowed. Her eyes opened, gazing out at the sunset before her. She hadn’t actually realized how late it had gotten and internally scolded herself for the missed time she would end up having with Jasper that night. 
She sucked in a deep breath, taking note of how her chest tightened uncomfortably. Dr Cullen had warned her of the discomfort that breathing would soon bring, but as prepared as she thought she was, she knew that the inevitable struggle would not be anything she could ever be truly prepared for. She knew that this was just the beginning of how horrible it would end up feeling for her. The reality of dying would one day end up being too much for her to handle. 
She wondered for a moment if taking the opportunity that Jasper had offered when the time came would make her brave or a coward. What in the end would be the easy solution? Dying and leaving him, or living and leaving everyone else she loved? In that moment, she wasn’t sure, but she did know what her heart yearned for. The image of his amber eyes flooded her thoughts, the idea of him alone, calming her unsteady breaths. 
A soft bell jingled behind her, pulling her from her wandering thoughts as she quickly pulled the fabric back up her arms and onto her shoulders. She turned taking in the site of Bella walking towards her holding a small book in her hand. “Ready?” She asked, gesturing with a nod to the road ahead. Camila nodded, giving a small smile as they started the trek back to where the restaurant was.
Their shoes thudded against the sidewalk as they walked in silence, a fog starting to settle in around them. They turned, cutting in between two buildings, taking the same route back that they had taken to get there. Suddenly, it became glaringly obvious the stark difference between the alley during the day and at night, and just as suddenly, Camila felt a chill run up her spine. Not the same chill she would get when Jasper touched her, but an eery chill. 
Stood there on the other side of the ally was the group of men who had passed by at the dress shop, looking much more menacing under the dim glow of the street lights. One of the men had just spotted them and had turned in his tracks to move towards them, the rest of the men following his lead. Camila grabbed Bella’s arm, turning back around before swiftly retracing their steps onto the trail they had just taken. 
They were now in a much bigger clearing, although just as deserted, and Camila chastised her self mentally for letting her pain and jumbled thoughts cloud her judgement. She wasn’t stupid, but god did she feel like she was in that moment. If she had been paying more attention she would’ve noticed the time of day or even the lack of people on their walk to the book store. 
Footsteps echoed throughout the air, the men no doubt following them further into the clearing. “Saw you in the dress store.” One of the men called out loudly. Camila forced her eyes to remain ahead, as if ignoring the men would make them disappear.  
“Hey, where are you running to?” Another yelled. Camila’s heart began to race, hearing the thudding in her ears, breath becoming shallow and quick, her lungs tightening with every gasp for air. 
Blinking rapidly, trying to calm her heart and her mind as the panic set it, three more men came into view on the other end of the lot. “What up? It’s my girls.” One said, his eyes meeting hers as the other three coming in closer. A menacing smirk coated his face as she tired to look anywhere but into his dark terrifying eyes. 
One man from behind called out to another. “How you guys doing? Look who we just found.” 
Camila’s hand tightened around Bella’s arm, attempting to ground herself in the moment and not settle into a full blown panic attack. 
“What’s up, girls?”
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Where are you going?”
“Come get a drink with us.”
“Yeah, you should hang out with us, come on.”
“It’s fun.”  
“What’s the problem?” “You’re pretty.”
Voices called out around them as the men got closer and closer starting to cage them in and breaking them apart from each other. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening. The one time she went out with friends, and this happens? Really? Panic was really starting to set in as her mind began to wander further. It was one thing for this to happen to her, I mean her life was about to end anyway, but Bella too? She had her whole life ahead of her. 
“Don’t touch me.” Bella snapped, pulling her arm from one of the men harshly. 
The voices continued to ramble around them. Sadness bloomed in her chest as reality sunk in. Unless a miracle happened soon, they would likely end up dead by the end of this and despite having thought that she was prepared for death, she couldn’t get Jasper’s face out of her mind. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for the end as she had thought. The thought of leaving Jasper was what hurt the most, leaving a gaping hole in her heart. Maybe she was a coward, maybe not, in that moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was him.
Darkness started to encroach her vision, seeping in from all sides. Her body started to feel heavy, pain shooting up her arm as one of the men grabbed harshly at her, his fingers digging into her flesh. She was certain she would faint soon when all of a sudden, the screeching of tires against the pavement behind her cut through her jumbled thoughts. 
She turned her head feebly, a silver Volvo whipping around the corner, causing the men to jump back. Wait a second. She knew that car. Edward, thank god. She thought, relief flooding her veins. She had been sure that they were goners, destined to end up on some Dateline or CSI episode. 
The car jerked to a stop, Edward popping out of the driver seat, quickly followed by Jasper from the passenger seat. “Get in the car.” Edward instructed Bella. 
Jasper rushed to Camila’s side, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist as he allowed her to rest her bodyweight on him, leading her to the back seat of the car. He sat her against the leather seats, pulling back to look her in the eyes. 
Camila took in the view of his face, his hand coming up to brush her cheek gently. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern filling his voice. She nodded in response, letting out a deep shaky breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Relief flooded through her. She wasn’t going to die tonight. Jasper had saved her. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled him towards her by the collar of his shirt into her open arms. 
She wrapped them tightly around his neck, breathing in his scent. “Thank you.” She whispered, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to blink back the tears. 
Jasper willed himself to pull away from her grip, pressing his lips to hers fiercely before pulling away quicker than he would have liked as he backed up further onto the pavement. “I’ll be right back, stay here.” He instructed, forcing his eyes to leave hers as he stepped away. 
Jasper stood to his full height, closing the door of the vehicle behind him, turning to look at the group of men before him. White hot anger ripped through his chest as he assessed the men. He wanted to kill them. To rip them to shreds for even thinking about doing anything to her. The truth was, if Edward hadn’t convinced Jasper to come along on a trip to watch over Camila and Bella then they would have gone through with the unspeakable. 
Edward had seen what one of the men was thinking. Had seen that he had done this sort of thing to other women before. Had seen that he would do it again given the chance. Jasper squared his shoulders pushing his power out from himself. Pushing fear into the minds of the men before him. Unspeakable fear that would never leave them, never completely. A waking nightmare that would terrify them to their last days, because as much as he wanted to physically hurt them, he knew that he couldn’t. Not with Camila so close and already afraid. This would be the next best thing. This would have to suffice. This would have to tame the beast inside of him.
Their faces morphed into looks of terror and Jasper watched, only slightly satisfied as he watched them scramble away as quickly as their feet would take them. Wishing that he could’ve somehow inflicted more terror on the men.
Jasper turned back to the car, rushing to get inside as Edward closed the driver side door. He joined Camila in the back seat, pulling her towards him and wrapping her into his grasp as Edward sped away from the scene. Camila shook in his arms, the reality of everything that had just happened lingering in the air around them. Vaguely, Jasper could hear the voices of Edward and Bella in the front of the vehicle, although he paid them no mind. All that mattered to him in that moment was Camila. 
He had known deep down that something would happen, he didn’t however think it would have ever been something like this. Something like a group of revolting men attempting to take her away from him. His jaw clenched at the mere thought of it, the idea infuriating him to no end. 
But what enraged him the most was the terror radiating off of Camila. The terror that those vile men inflicted on her. He realized that it was slightly hypocritical to think of these men as monsters while he sat there, knowing of his own past, knowing of the blood on his hands, but he knew he would never even think of doing such a thing to a woman. 
The fact that these men had been about to do such unspeakable things to anyone was bad enough, but to her? The fire in his chest burned hotter as he imagined what he would’ve done to the men had it not been for Camila’s presence. Vivid images overtook his mind. Ripping. Tearing. Blood. Mangled bodies littering the ground. For a moment, he imagined indulging himself on that blood, feasting on the terrible men and for the first time in so long, truly satisfying his eternal thirst. 
“Jasper.” Edward hissed through his teeth. Jasper’s eyes shot up to meet his brother’s in the rear view mirror, seeing his seething glare. He realized in that moment that his vivid mental imagery probably wasn’t helping Edward deal with his own fury over the situation. 
Jasper sucked in a breath that his lungs didn’t need. “Sorry.” He muttered in reply, turning his attention back to the girl in his arms. She gave no sign of fright, her expression completely blank as she looked ahead in a daze, but her body continued to shake ever so slightly. Jasper felt the fear, radiating outwards from her and focused his power on trying to sooth her. Her body relaxed in his arms, letting out a sigh as she buried her face in his neck, breathing in the musky scent of him. 
“Thank you.” She muttered into his skin. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was thanking him for, whether it be saving her, or helping calm her down, or both even, but she thanked him nonetheless. Regardless of its’ origin, she needed her gratitude for him to be known. 
Time moved quickly in a blur around her as the car suddenly came to a halt. She looked up, realizing that Edward had parked the car, seeming to have driven to the restaurant that they had planned on meeting Angela and Jessica at. Camila’s eyes flickered up to Jasper’ face in question. “We should get you something to eat.” He said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.
Her eyes bore into his pleadingly. “Can we please stay in the car? I’ll eat when I get home, promise.” She begged, wanting the privacy that the restaurant would not be able to provide. In truth, she hadn’t wanted to leave his arms, his comforting embrace being one of the only things in that moment keeping her grounded. The security of his strong arms around her made her feel safe, made her feel like she was home. In reality, that is what he had become to her, her home. 
Jasper paused for a moment, contemplating their options before nodding. Bella was sure to have many questions and this was definitely not the time for anything resembling a double date. 
Soon, the two were alone the radio playing softly in the background of their silence. “I’m sorry.” Camila muttered quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. 
Jasper’s head turned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, grabbing her chin to turn her head to force her eyes to his own. 
She sucked in a shaky breath, “I wasn’t thinking when I left with Bella or I would’ve convinced her to stay with Jessica and Angela. I had headache and needed some fresh air and-“ She rambled on.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He interrupted, having not had the patience to listen to her attempt to punish herself further. “It is not your fault that there are horrible people in the world.” He assured her, resting his forehead on hers. 
Camila closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of Jasper’s skin against her own. She was beyond lucky and she knew it. Lucky that Edward and Jasper were there, listening, paying attention to make sure that Bella and her were safe. She would have thanked him again if it weren’t for his persistence that it wasn’t her fault. Camila knew that it was though, knew that she should have been thinking more clearly, should have been more aware. 
So, instead of thanking him once more verbally, she leaned forward to plant a kiss to his lips. She leaned fervently into the touch, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as possible, her lips moving in sync with his own. In that moment she knew. Knew that this was the coward’s way out. Choosing Jasper was most definitely the easier of her two options. Living her life with him, grasping at their forever had to be the cowardly choice, because the other option seemed so much more torturous. 
Next Chapter -coming soon
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leclsrc · 2 years
Text
a certain romance ✴︎ cs55
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genre: fluff!, humor
word count: 4.5k
A love affair is never an easy thing to keep under wraps. Or, the four times your two brothers almost catch you and Carlos together, and the one time they finally do.
notes... reader is a leclerc, one sexual allusion but it’s not bad, french that is basically translatable thru context clues
auds here... req’d, sort of twice! was gonna make this a full fledged fic but i went with the short route to keep it brief. i hope u like this anon/s :) title from a song of the same name by the arctic monkeys. also there is use of y/n which i generally don’t like using in fics bec i feel it disrupts the flow, but it wouldn’t have fit any other way so. must b all... enjoy!
If you told Carlos Sainz that he—a full grown, mature, twenty-eight-year-old man—would be tiptoeing on the balcony of a hotel in Monaco (shirtless and fully terrified, no less) eight months from now, he would laugh at you. But he’d be doing so anyway, fearing something in the room behind him rather than the alarmingly high distance he’d be possessing over the road below. He’d inhale, exhale, recites a few proverbs to keep himself calm. But now, if you told him, he would mumble something along the lines of estúpido, because really, how the hell would he get himself into that situation?
Don’t worry. He’s going to find out.
“I’m not really looking to date,” he says wisely, taking another swig of his beer. “I think racing is the number one thing on my mind. And it’s difficult to maintain a balance of both.”
Lando clears his throat, tipsy from having exhausted his drinks and then some. “Mate, quit being a pessimist. You Spaniards, I swear. That’s not necessarily true. I made it work.” He presents two thumbs, pointing them toward his beaming, dopey face. 
Carlos stares. “Luisa broke up with you.”
“Right then, you arse, twist the knife,” Lando mutters exasperatedly, his thumbs drooping down and his smile dropping. Carlos can’t help but throw his head back in amusement, eking out apologies in between bouts of laughter. The younger just mocks the laugh, finishing the beer he’d been drinking. 
The two are on the balcony of Lando’s flat, overlooking the expanse of Chelsea. The subject of girlfriends and looking for love had been between them for a while now, seeing as they were both single; they’d often greet each other with a Got a girlfriend yet, cabrón? And, while the conversation was generally harmless, it did tend to push Carlos into a state of introspection regarding his own love life.
“But honestly, really.” Carlos says. “I just don’t know if a girl is what I need right now. Unless somebody perfect drops on my lap.”
“I’m going to ignore how pervy that sounds—but I get it. I guess the career thing’s just the priority, huh, mate? And speaking of career”—Lando rifles through his jacket pocket and fishes his phone out—“we’re going to be late for dinner if we don’t leave in the next fifteen.”
Ah, dinner: the only reason Carlos had chartered a jet to London earlier today in the first place. Proposed out of sheer fun and then carrying on because it actually seemed like a doable idea, Lando had texted a few drivers and invited them and however-many-pluses they wished to bring to an upscale restaurant in the city as a way to get in touch.
It didn’t seem ideal, until they realized that 1. Lando, George, and Alex were already in London, and 2. Charles was with family and had a meeting there, too, and—well, at that point Carlos had basically succumbed to peer pressure and gotten on a jet straight to the UK. Lando always had a penchant for making these plans and spending the entire time making dirty jokes and/or getting tipsy and/or using his camera to take pictures of any and everyone, which really just made the dinners all the more fun.
They clean up the bottles of beer they’d drank from, and Carlos pulls his coat on by the door, still unused to the overcast British weather. “Who’s there later?”
“The boys, Arthur… Lily, Carmen. I think. I mean nobody brought their mums or whatever. That’s all of ‘em, I suppose.” Lando inspects his outfit in the mirror by the entryway and swaps out his jacket for a different one, ushering Carlos out the door and into the waiting car. Something about I’d rather be driven around than drive a pretentious sports car around the city looking like a daft prick. 
They’re halfway to the restaurant, both on their phones, when Lando suddenly gasps softly and goes, “Right, and Charles’ sister is going too.”
Carlos looks up, interest piqued. He hadn’t heard much of Charles’ sister before—you’d dropped by a few races, and had always been present for the entirety of the Monaco weekend, but you weren’t engaged in racing as much as Charles’ other siblings. He’d shaken hands with you and made the polite, necessary, albeit totally rushed small talk. “Y/N,” he recounts. “Right?”
“Yessir,” Lando says, letting Drake filter through the AUX of the car. “The one in law school.”
He nods, trying to pick out specific memories. None really come to mind—it’s all introductions that repeat themselves. Hi, Carlos Sainz, Charles’ teammate. Oh, hi, I’m Charles’ sister. He faintly recounts finding you pretty, but having not seen you at the paddock for quite a while, he considers his memories dubious at best. He leans back and listens to Lando rap Rich Flex with an obnoxiously posh accent instead, and figures if he dies now, at least he wouldn’t have to keep hearing this.
The restaurant is nearer than they anticipate, so the Drake rap-along session is cut blissfully short, the pair being ushered into the private seating area, coats taken and wine served. They join George, who, at his insistence, had made the reservation in the first place even if Lando had suggested the restaurant, and Carmen. 
“Charles and Albon?” Carlos asks when he takes a seat, greeting the couple.
“Charles and Arthur are on their way, but Alex is stuck in Harrods with Lily and Y/N. They got busy looking for shoes or something. Poor guy,” George says, half-laughing. 
“I so wish I met up with the girls beforehand,” Carmen mopes, “the sale at Harrods is amazing.”
The conversation descends into a multitude of different topics, as they always do when Lando and George lead the way—racing (obviously), Carmen, Daniel Ricciardo even, dogs, any plans of adopting dogs, and then, because George Russell is a little shit, he says: “Feels nice being the only guy with a girlfriend at the table right now, innit?”
Carmen pinches his arm but he persists with a smile. “No, but really. You two are just about the most eligible bachelors ever and still single. What gives?”
“I for one am not into monogamy at the moment,” Lando says matter-of-factly. “I’m twenty-three, mate. I’m trying to have fun. But Mr. Almost Thirty here is a different case.”
“Ay,” Carlos gripes. “It’s not an involuntary thing. Just want to focus on racing.”
He prays then for this topic to come to a close so he won’t have to explain himself all over again, and reprieve comes in the form of Charles and Arthur entering the room. Already Charles is talking, before he even takes a seat, and Arthur is nodding along—something about how London traffic sucks, how are your streets so small, mate, oh my God Harrods is so full, Lily and Y/N have been at it for hours, poor Alex, he volunteered to stay. The guy spouts words quickly and easily, in an accent that sounds both English and French.
The rest of the wait time happens fast—Lily and Alex rush through the entrance, apologizing for being late. The lines are so long, Lily explains, taking a seat and leaving the other side empty. When her boyfriend tries to sit there, she swats him away, goes, babe, no, that’s for Y/N. So her boyfriend sits woefully across her and beside Carlos instead.
“Where is Y/N?” Charles asks. Carlos is also curious, albeit inwardly. He didn’t even know you were arriving until late, and still he hasn’t seen your face.
“Sorry, I had to check something with the valet,” a voice goes, and then you’re sliding into the seat across him.
The thing is, Carlos has been stunned before.
It’s sort of a non-negotiable when you go into such a demanding, high-risk sport. If he’s careening into another car, or the side of a circuit—obviously, it stuns him. Everything spins into slow motion for a few nerve-wracking seconds. But he’s also been stunned in all the good ways: when he can tell he’s in the lead, when he overtakes the car in front of him, when he bounds past the flag and realizes it’s a podium finish. So, yes—Carlos is fully familiar with the gut churning, belly spinning delirium of being stunned. So familiar, in fact, that he’s grown familiar with it, developed a second skin for it, welcomed it with open arms.
Which also explains the way he sees you laughing quietly at something Lily says and subsequently realizes, with apprehension and dread, that he is stunned.
The first time it happens is after the dinner—not just the dinner, but the drinks and the London walk that followed, accompanied by three noisy and drunk tour guides (read: Lando, George, Alex). Charles and Arthur, almost as drunk, follow the tour with loud jabs of their own, and Lily and Carmen are filming everything on their phones. You’ve been on your phone checking an email, and Carlos takes a call from his cousin, which naturally leads both you and him to trail behind the group.
So, when you’re both done taking calls and checking emails, it’s the two of you left to your own devices. You swing within the awkward few moments of deciding whether to rejoin the group or just keep trailing behind, your shoes clicking softly against the cobblestone pavement, accompaniments to Lando’s loud singing of Piano Man. 
“What’d you think of the wine?” You ask, your accent sliding easy into the syllables but not losing its distinctiveness. 
He pretends to ponder, even if he’d given Lando a full-scale review when they first left the restaurant, and turns back to you. “It was okay. A bit too sweet for my taste.”
“Exactly! That’s what I told Arthur, but he found it perfect. I guess kids these days just don’t have taste.”
You both laugh at your sarcastic use of “kids”, knowing you’re just two years older than your younger brother. Carlos opens his mouth to speak, trying to find footing, the perfect suave thing to say to possibly land himself in a position to flirt.
Right then, Lando reaches the crescendo of Somebody to Love (he can’t ever finish a song), and then Charles is turning around to find you and Carlos engaged in conversation. His lips stretch into a mischievous smile.
“Aye, Carlos! Back off the baby sister, mate!” He slurs, clapping Arthur on the back to catch his attention.
Arthur’s eyes narrow playfully, darting in between you both. Carlos just raises a middle finger in response, sending the brothers into unnecessarily extensive bouts of laughter. You roll your eyes, blowing a raspberry. “Putain. These fucking shitheads never leave me alone.”
George is in the middle of teaching Charles to say sod off instead of back off when Carlos purses his lips and, on a whim, turns and goes: “Is there a rule against dating drivers?”
You try and fail to hide a smile. “Hmm. None, I don’t think.”
Silence. Then you speak again, coy. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Carlos says. London is suddenly a place of magic. “No reason at all.”
It’s at an afterparty, the second time it happens—and technically the first where you and Carlos actually connect properly. In hindsight, it might’ve been stupid to flirt with him in the middle of the dance floor—something he thankfully realized in the moment, taking your hand and guiding you through the throng of people into the back exit.
Nobody said first kisses had to be remarkable in the romantic sense. Sometimes they’re in seedy European alleyways, with a fist bunched into his polo and a hand on your hip. It had to happen this way, because how else would two months of beating around the bush culminate? Because even if you’re drunk, you can’t stop thinking about how much you want to kiss him again. Tomorrow morning. And the next.
You pull away, but he speaks first, voice rushed and semi-sobered. “Let’s not.”
Humming, you try to swallow the lump of distress in your throat. “Why?”
“Because,” he says, nervous now, gulping. “Because—of the bro code.”
You stare. “Is that a Spanish thing?”
“B-ro c-ode,” he says again, enunciating the syllables; the Spanish accent doesn’t go away, and neither do his hands, hot and big on your hip and waist. 
You move your hand from where it’s fisted into his shirt, cupping his neck. Then you burst out laughing, much to Carlos’ confusion. “That is so not a thing,” you press, unconvinced.
“It is. Bro code. I just crossed that line, dios mio,” he says, clearly way more stressed than you are. 
“Bro code isn’t upheld for boys over twenty-one,” you say haughtily. Right then, you hear Arthur’s voice through the door and it swings open a few seconds later. In the span of those moments, you shove Carlos away nervously and attempt to look like you weren’t doing anything.
Arthur’s on the phone, speaking in quick French when he sees you and Carlos at a respectable distance. He tilts the phone away, mouths What’s up?, pointing at the both of you.
“I felt like vomiting and he was nearby,” you reply, nodding. He’s out of view, exiting the alleyway within seconds and back on the phone. 
You exhale, and turn back to him. “Okay, so maybe the bro code is a thing.”
He looks at you as if to say no shit. “I don’t think we should do this,” he says, but his tone betrays himself.
“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”
“Right, yes.”
A beat. “Can you kiss me again?”
Against all odds, you and Carlos had managed to successfully start dating under your brothers’—ergo the majority of your mutual circle’s—noses. You’d only let it slip to a few close friends and family, and in Carlos’ case, Lando, because Lord knows the guy could not keep his mouth shut for the life of him. And even if it was stressful, and it often felt like any moment would be interrupted by somebody catching the both of you on the phone, or even together, neither of you could deny how good it was.
It’s five months later—five months of pure bliss, for the most part. Save for multiple close calls, you and Carlos had enjoyed each other’s company. You’d tried to navigate how everything would work once you realized you both wanted something more out of the relationship, but neither of you wanted to deal with the hassle of your overprotective siblings yet. You’d resorted to hours of FaceTime, everyday texts, and if the world was on your side, the occasional date. 
The last method is easily your favorite, you both—and when the drivers get three weeks off and Carlos spends it in Las Vegas, that’s how it happens, the third time. Carlos visits you at your hotel, relishing in the eleven-thirty emptiness of the communal area, swimming in the jacuzzi and giggling about something into Carlos’ neck. You barely remember the joke; you’re honestly just welling up with enthusiasm and an endless supply of laughs that your boyfriend is finally with you.
Your head is still dug into Carlos’ neck, laughing about something else now, when you hear faraway footsteps. Having grown used to being a pseudo-patrolman, your eyes dart up immediately, and your stomach drops when you see, seriously, of all fucking people—Charles and Arthur. 
“Oh my God,” you mutter, dumbfounded. A hand wet with jacuzzi water taps frantically on your phone; sure enough, you’d gotten texts from the both of them about dropping by your hotel for drinks. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
You disembark from your position on your boyfriend’s lap, hoping the hickey he sucked onto your neck won’t be visible from meters away. Your eyes shoot up again, and they still haven’t spotted you. Holding your breath and bracing yourself, you turn to Carlos, place two hands on his shoulders, and shove him underneath the water.
They spot you then, waving enthusiastically. “Drinks!” Arthur shouts, mimicking a beer bottle with his hand. You chew your lip nervously, raising one hand and waving back.
“Don’t wait up and I’ll just meet you at the bar!” You holler, watching as they pass through the entrance at a truly leisurely pace. 
Once they’re in, you haul your boyfriend up and he breathes deeply, anxious. “Puta madre.”
“I think we should tell them soon. I don’t want you literally dying just for the sake of keeping us a secret,” you say, maintaining a safe distance and constantly turning toward the entrance just in case. You reach for his hand underwater.
“It’s thrilling, actually,” he winks.
“I’m sorry if it’s a bother.” You say woefully, guilt eating at you a little bit. But he takes your hand, squeezes it among the jacuzzi bubbles.
“Nothing’s a bother with you.”
Charles knocks on your Monza hotel room door when it happens the fourth time, opening it once he finds it unlocked—and then freezing when he finds you buried in your duvet ’til your shoulders. You’re in your silk pajama top, arms and mouth outstretched into a yawn when your eyes meet, hair disheveled. You blink.
“Charles.” You say confusedly, letting your arms drop. “Tu vas bien?”
“Mmm, ça va.” He pauses. “Et toi?”
“Moi aussi,” you say casually. “Any reason you came into my room without waiting for me to answer the damn door?”
He smiles, as if remembering why he invaded your privacy. “Right, I came in here to ask if you’ve seen Arthur.”
“I’m clearly by myself in bed, so no,” you respond cuttingly. “Last I checked he was walking around with Lando.” The two had become fast friends after the London dinner. 
Your elder brother hums, then moves to take a seat on your bed, to which you quickly reach over, grab a complimentary soap bar (on the bedside table and not the shower, which you’d found weird), and toss it square at his face. “Ah—ay! What the fuck?”
“Don’t come near me,” you say. “I’m sick.”
“Sick? What rubbish. You were literally at the paddock hours ago totally fine.”
“Don’t be daft. Not that kind of sick, you arse—”
“Not that kind of sick,” he mocks, exaggerating his accent and raising his voice a few octaves to sound like a silly version of you. He raises an accusatory finger. “You lie, you lie!”
“I am not lying,” you insist irritably, sitting up a little and cocking your brow. “Tu es insupportable!”
You slide into a flurry of angry French and Italian in your valiant efforts to defend your innocence, and Charles is infected into doing the same. Eventually the room is just filled with indistinguishable insults and scoffed phrases of merde, ah bon?, and immensely accented What thuh helliz your problem?s. You even chuck another hotel soap at him for extra measure, but he manages to catch it this time. It’s childish, like many of your petty fights born out of irritance.
“I’m on my period, you prick,” you say as a last resort, once the insults have run their sufficient course. “I couldn’t be arsed to find Arthur.” His eyes narrow, doubting you, but ultimately he admits defeat, walking back to the door to exit your room. The door’s out of view of your bed, so you brace yourself, waiting for it to open and click closed.
“You better not be harboring a fugitive in here!” He says, but only half of here is heard before the door clicks shut and drowns him out. The tension leaves your body and you heave a deep sigh, relaxing backwards and biting your lip. 
The thick silk duvet flips upward and Carlos surfaces, face flushed from being in hiding for so long.
One arm is still curled around your thigh, the inner part of which is rubbed raw from his facial hair being against it. You stare at one another with dopey smiles on your faces, relieved that you’d managed to act fast and flip the huge blanket over Carlos—although he had conveniently been in that position to begin with. 
“Do either of you ever shut up?”
“One more word and I’m kicking you,” you say, reaching an arm out to stroke his jaw. You smile, laughing a little. “I’m not bluffing.”
“Scary, princesa,” he teases, hauling himself up to press a lasting kiss onto your lips. You smile into it, out of relief that your nosy elder brother didn’t catch you, but also out of the way your heart swells when Carlos smiles.
“You’re absolutely sure it’s the right room number?”
“100% positive. 613, Y/N Leclerc.”
“And not any other Leclerc.”
“Mate, I just said Y/N. Get a grip,” Lando scoffs. “My investigative skills pay off. Still don’t understand why you couldn’t have just asked her yourself, seeing as though you two are, I dunno, dating.”
“It’s a surprise, man,” Carlos says cuttingly, facing the lobby of the Hôtel de Paris. “Alright, thanks, cábron. I’ll see you soon.”
“Get some!” The Brit whoops, and then Carlos is taking the elevator to your room.
He didn’t think of himself as much of a surprises guy, but then again—he didn’t think of himself as much as a flowers and teddy bear guy, but he’d gotten you those every month since you became official; he didn’t think of himself as much of a physical touch guy, but he was always the one initiating hugs and cuddle sessions. The list goes on.
He knocks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
Much to his relief, it really is you who answers, with the face of surprise he wanted out of this. Before you utter a word, he’s dipping down to kiss you, and you find yourself returning the kiss, knowing you’d lost your boyfriend’s presence for so long. It quickens fast, and Carlos wedges himself in, kicking the door closed behind him.
You pull away. “Wait, I—”
He kisses you again, and you can’t resist, laughing at his persistence. He pulls away to tug his shirt off, and that’s when you crash back to reality. “Mmmm—Carlos, this isn’t my room!” 
Everything happens fast after that.
The door starts opening and Carlos hears Charles on the other side of it, talking about there was a room mix-up, Y/N, this is mine and 615 is yours—he misses the rest of the sentence, clutching his singlet to his bare chest and allowing himself to be pushed by his girlfriend out the door of the balcony. Thinking he’s safe if just for a moment, he turns, but finds he still sees the room—the curtains don't cover him enough. 
And if he can see the room, he figures, the room can see him. And if the room can see him, Charles will see him when he’s fully inside. 
You’re gesticulating wildly with your hands, trying to find a way to distract your brother, turning away from Carlos briefly to maybe just accept your fate. Charles shuts the door, facing you and, consequently, the balcony doors. Your heart seizes. Surely, Carlos must be there—there’s no other place left for him to hide, unless he miraculously fit his blocky, broad frame behind a random potted plant.
“Something wrong?” Charles says, and you whip around. The balcony’s blissfully empty.
“N…othing.” You say. “Nothing.”
“D’accord,” he says promptly. “So. Dinner?”
Your head spins, unable to formulate a reply. Where could Carlos have hidden?
The balcony is a bit wide, but the entirety of it is visible, and, well—Carlos is clearly not. There’s one lawn sofa, and one plant, neither of which seem to harbor your favorite Spaniard, so where the fuck is he? Because of course, he’s not stupid. Surely. He’s twenty-eight, you think.
What kind of guy would climb onto the banister of the Hôtel de Paris just to hide from his girlfriend’s older brother?
Carlos cannot believe he’s on the banister of the Hôtel de Paris just to hide from his girlfriend’s older brother.
In the scurry of it, he hadn’t even gotten properly dressed. So here he is, braving the frigid sixth-floor air and the harrowing height at which he stands, brandishing his shirt like it’s a flag and standing like he’s on a podium. He feels like he’s about to die for love. Like some Shakespearean hero.
But when he digs deep he figures he doesn’t actually mind at all. Sure, he feels like he’s on the brink of death, but he realizes it’s for you in the end, and that comforts him. He never thought he’d do this, ever, not even if he was paid, or bet on, or for a Real Madrid win. He leans back and ignores the asphalt below. He’ll stay here as long as he needs to.
“Mate, get down from there.” Carlos looks up to see Charles and Arthur going absolutely mental, even taking a few photos for good measure. Relieved, scared, and just glad his stint on the banister is over, he climbs off and pulls his shirt back on, crossing his arms. He spots you inside, smiling but also insisting they delete the incriminating evidence.
In the end, seriously? This is the reaction you and he hid from for eight months? You walk over to place yourself beside Carlos, watching your brothers. Two fools laughing at everything, each other, their sister, and her boyfriend. “Jig is up,” Charles says. “But we’ve known since you two kissed outside that club.”
You roll your eyes; clearly, you’ve already been told this information. But Carlos is slack-jawed with shock—they did all that on purpose. How fucking cheeky, really. He figures they gave Lando the wrong room number through the grapevine, too.
“But,” Charles says, wiping real tears from his eyes, “I know you love my sister, mate, so I’ll be the first to say I approve. Arthur will be the second.”
“I approve,” says Arthur dumbly.
“We approve,” they say in unison, then they’re laughing all over again. You swat both of their arms in retaliation, which causes the teasing to subside.
“Now, cábron,” Charles says gleefully, “we do have a couple of questions for you…”
You squeeze his hand. Even if he prefers the banister, your presence is comforting all the same, and he’d answer any totally unnecessary, pointless, silly question from your brothers if it means he gets to hug you again later. If you told him eight months ago he’d be this in love, he would’ve laughed in your face. But here he is anyway. 
It’s comforting.
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cosmicjoke · 1 year
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The Psychological and Emotional Impact of Levi’s Early Childhood:
I don’t think Levi’s early childhood really gets discussed enough in the fandom, or the ways in which those experiences in his formative years had to have impacted him.  This could be because we don’t really get many panels depicting his childhood.  Just a few.  But those few panels show us enough for us to extrapolate plenty and form a pretty clear picture of what he went through.
First of all, it’s almost a certainty that Levi was born as the result of rape. 
That’s something that I think everyone should let sink in.
He was born in the brothel that his mother, Kuchel, worked in.  And “worked” is a relative term here.  Kuchel was driven into the Underground as a result of persecution by the royal family.  She was undoubtedly very young, she was alone, with no real resources or support or guarantee of safety or protection from anyone, in an environment of criminality and violence.  There were likely very few, if any options available to her in terms of her own survival.  Her becoming a prostitute wouldn’t have been any kind of a choice then, but rather a move made in desperation.  And so I think we can also safely assume that Kuchel’s experiences working as a prostitute were tantamount to forced labor.  In other words, a kind of slavery.  She was almost certainly paid a paltry sum by the brothels owner, evidenced by the sorry, squalid and destitute state we see her and Levi living in when Kenny comes.  She was likely afforded very few, if any rights or defenses against whatever her clients chose to do to her, as also evidenced by the fact that no one seemed to really know or care enough about her or Levi to even realize when she had died. 
It’s impossible for me to define any of what Kuchel went through working in such a place as anything less than rape, then.
So, Levi’s very existence is one that is a literal product of violence.  I’m absolutely sure that Levi himself is painfully aware of this, knowing that he was born out of his own mother’s pain and suffering.  Going into the implications of this on Levi’s psychological health, I think you can safely assume this realization had a very negative impact on his own sense of self-worth.  His mother was the only person in his childhood who we ever saw treat him with any kind of actual love or kindness.  The only person who ever, actually wanted him.  And yet, Levi would have seen demonstrated to him, every day, how his existence in his mothers life placed an increased burden on her, forcing her into increasingly more desperate circumstances, now having to feed two mouths instead of only one, and as a result, likely having to engage in increased, unwanted sexual activity with her clients.  So Levi would be aware that not only was his mother, (again, the only person who loved and treated him with tenderness) being hurt on his behalf, but he also would have been aware, after witnessing the particular ways in which she was being hurt, that he himself was the result of that violence.  Levi would have been shown that his very existence, then, was something which caused immense suffering and pain to the only person in his life who loved him.  I honestly can’t even imagine the negative implications of something like this on a young mind.  Only to say, it must have been horrific and resulted in lifelong trauma.  Trauma which, due to the desperation of Levi’s life afterward, he likely never had any opportunity or chance to even address. 
Now, moving on to something else.  There’s a tendency by many to paint Kuchel as this sort of perfect mother figure.  Someone who, through the power of her love for Levi alone, was able to overcome the trauma of their general circumstances, to negate the negative experiences he would have been exposed to, resulting in Levi becoming the kind and compassionate person he would be as an adult.  But I think this assumption about Kuchel and their situation is not only unrealistic and idealized in the extreme, but also in its way, undermines the actual bleakness of their circumstances.
Again, we have to remember that Kuchel was driven into the Underground, and essentially forced, through lack of any other options, to become a prostitute.  Calling her a prostitute is a nice way of saying she had to sell herself into sexual slavery.  Kuchel’s own psychological and emotional trauma doesn’t often get touched upon or acknowledged when people talk about her and her relationship with her son, nor does the desperate poverty of their living situation.  Kuchel died right in front of Levi, and we can assume with pretty good accuracy that she either died from a sexually transmitted disease, or that she died from malnutrition and starvation.  These weren’t two people, then, who were living a comfortable or secure life.  In fact, the very opposite.  Levi was starving to death when Kenny found him.  It’s easy enough to assume from his state of general neglect and starvation that Kuchel, at the very least, was struggling to provide for him.  Not just food, but any kind of comfort or care.  Clothing, warmth, protection, cleanliness, and very likely even, affection.  This isn’t a knock on Kuchel’s worth as a mother, or her parenting.  She was, undoubtedly, doing the best she could given the circumstances.  But, again, this particular aspect of their lives isn’t touched on nearly enough.  Kuchel died out of neglect, impoverishment, desperation and abuse.  Given what we can assume her day to day life was like, having to let men come and sexually assault her just to keep herself and her son alive, one has to also consider the emotional and mental toll this sort of existence would eventually have on her.  She had to have been exhausted, both mentally and physically.  You add to this the always uncertain and present reality of whether either her or Levi would even be able to eat on any, given day, whether she would be able to keep her son from starving to death, and you can start to form a clear idea of how things like “playtime” or “fun”, or freely given and enthusiastic love and affection, would be, tragically, low on the list of priorities.  Their situation was absolutely a situation of survival, first and foremost.  Luxuries weren’t a part of their lives.  Anyone who’s ever experienced extreme deprivation, poverty and desperation on the level in which Kuchel and Levi were living would know that those material realities absolutely have a negative impact on one’s ability to simply live.  To be happy.  To indulge in fantasy.  To indulge in luxury.  To indulge in any kind of relaxation or ease of living.  It’s nice to imagine that Kuchel was always able to show Levi love and affection.  To always be a kind, caring and generous mother to him.  But that perception of their lives together ignores the bleak and harsh reality of what was really going on.  More likely than not, Kuchel was often too exhausted and in bad, physical shape herself to play with Levi, to pay attention to Levi, to indulge in Levi.  It was everything she could do, after all, to simply keep Levi alive, let alone healthy and happy.  Kenny described Levi, when he first took him in, as the most unfriendly kid he’d ever met.  We rarely see Levi speak at all in those early days with Kenny.  That doesn’t speak to someone who is well adjusted socially.  That doesn’t speak to someone who received a lot of open love and affection in the formative years of his childhood.  Again, this isn’t to criticize or undermine Kuchel’s abilities as a mother.  It’s simply acknowledging the tragic reality, that someone in Kuchel’s position, living the kind of life she was living, wouldn’t have had the luxury of being for Levi everything he needed her to be. 
This also leads me into another point I don’t think I’ve ever seen discussed, and that has to do with Kuchel’s decision to have Levi at all, and how that choice is, simultaneously, both entirely selfless, and entirely selfish. 
Kenny tells his grandfather that he tried to talk Kuchel out of having her baby, trying to explain to her how bringing a baby into the kind of situation she was living in wasn’t viable.  It was only going to make, not only her own life worse, but in turn, the baby’s life was going to be awful too.  We later see, in Kenny’s memories, a scene in which Kuchel is holding Levi as a newborn against her chest and crying tears of happiness.  Kenny recalls this as part of his monologue about dreams, and the desperation of dreams, and the ability of dreams to corrupt us.  This is important to acknowledge.  Because again, while Kuchel’s intentions in giving birth to Levi were pure, and her love for him was absolutely pure and genuine, still, she DID bring him into a situation of extreme poverty, desperation and violence.  In a way, Kuchel prioritized her dream of motherhood not only over her own well being (this being the selfless aspect of her decision), but also over Levi’s well being (this being the selfish aspect).  She knew her own living situation was terrible, filled with suffering, cruelty and pain.  She knew this, and she was aware, from Kenny’s own words, that bringing a child into that situation was only going to make things worse, for both of them.  But she chose to do it anyway.  She chose to give birth to Levi, and to keep him, knowing the sort of deprivation and desperation he would be exposed to.  Knowing the kind of violence and cruelty and ugliness he would be exposed to, being born and raised in a brothel, in which she was working as a prostitute, relegated to a single room with him in it. 
Chances are high, extremely high, that Levi saw his mother raped.  Maybe she sent him out of the room when she was with clients.  But maybe she wasn’t able to.  We never see any evidence of Levi having ever left their single room as a child, and even if he had, the building they were in was a brothel, catering to men seeking and paying for the sexual services of women.  It isn’t an environment that is, in any way, suited to a child, friendly to a child, or even tolerant of a child.  It’s almost 100% certain that Levi was, at one time or another, exposed to sexual violence against women, whether it was his own mother, or someone else.  He would have been exposed to violence in general too, because men who sexually assault women are also very likely to physically assault them.  I don’t think it’s any kind of a stretch, even, to assume that Levi himself might have been on the receiving end of physical violence, at the least, in a place like that.  Men who wouldn’t want some little kid around while they force themselves on the women there probably would have little qualm with hitting Levi to make him go away. 
Again, going back to Levi’s “unfriendliness” when Kenny first takes him in, I think we can extrapolate that a lot of what Kenny was perceiving as unfriendly behavior was in fact just Levi being withdrawn.  He seemed sullen and mute to Kenny.  We see this in children who have been abused.  They tend to go within themselves and make themselves as unobtrusive as possible, not wanting to draw attention to themselves, because whenever they have, it’s always resulted in them somehow being hurt.  Levi’s body language when Kenny first meets him speaks to this as well.  He’s curled against the wall opposite his mother’s bed, literally making himself as small as possible, his knees hugged to his chest, his head bowed close to them, etc...  Like he’s trying to hide.  Again, it doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to assume that Levi fell victim to the violence of the men who frequented that place.  The Underground in general was filled with violent and cruel men who made a living out of criminality, who in fact wouldn’t think twice about committing murder, etc... 
This is the world Kuchel brought Levi into.  A world of physical and sexual violence, a world of depravity and illness, a world of poverty and starvation.  Kuchel loved Levi with all her heart.  That isn’t for a moment in doubt.  But by choosing to have him and keep him, she also trapped him into a life of pain and suffering of his own.
Kuchel had to know, if anything were to happen to her, that Levi’s chances of survival were next to none.  He was helpless without her, and that too is evidenced by the fact that, when Kenny finds them, Levi is literally starving to death.  He’s just sitting there, resigned to his fate.  There’s no indication whatsoever that Levi ever even left their room to seek food, or help of any kind.  He just sat there, trapped with his mother’s rotting corpse, waiting to die.  And nobody there cared enough to even check on him or his mother in the span of time between when she fell ill and when she died.  Nobody there cared enough about either of their lives to see if they were okay, and we can assume, because Levi didn’t seek anyone’s help, that he didn’t think anyone would help him, which tells us all we need to know about how he and his mother were generally treated in that place.  Kuchel must have known, as she was dying, that without her, Levi was going to die too.  She had no way and no cause to know or think that Kenny would come by to rescue him.  And, indeed, if Kenny hadn’t shown up right when he did, Levi almost certainly would have died in that room with her.  I can’t even imagine the pain this must have caused her, knowing she was dying, and knowing as a result, that her son was going to die too.  It would have been unbearable.  But again, this is also the risk Kuchel took when she chose to give birth to and keep Levi.  She knew this was a possibility.  That her child would die a slow and painful death without her there to protect and take care of him.
So this sort of sunny, idealistic picture that tends to get painted of Levi’s life with his mother seems both unrealistic and unfair to them in terms of understanding their actual situation.  This wasn’t a happy or good life they were living together.  It was a life full of misery and pain.  Levi’s monologue later on to the 104th recruits, about not knowing if you’ll wake up and get to eat that day, or if your friends will still be alive, wasn’t just a reflection on their lives living with the threat of titans.  It was a reflection of his own life living in the Underground, living a life surrounded by poverty and violence and uncertainty.  That was Levi’s existence for the first 25 years of his life.  That was Levi’s childhood.  Violence and starvation, cruelty and deprivation.  Kuchel’s love, as pure and as genuine as it was, wasn’t enough on it’s own to overcome the scars of all that. 
One last note to end this on. 
There’s also a tendency to paint Kenny’s rescue of Levi as this very heroic and selfless act on Kenny’s part.  A moment in which Levi was pulled from the jaws of certain death and given a chance to live by his uncle.  And while, yes, Kenny certainly did save Levi’s life and give him that chance, I think it’s also important to acknowledge that Kenny’s treatment of Levi was abusive, and ultimately caused him more harm than good.  Kenny, we have to remember, went down to the Underground to rescue Kuchel.  He went to that brothel with the intention of pulling her out and bringing her to live back up on the surface, able to do so now that he had ended the persecution of their family through his connection with Uri Reiss.  But by the time he got there, Kuchel was dead, and she’d left behind her only child in Levi.  Kenny could have so easily brought Levi up to the surface with him, the way he’d been planning on doing with Kuchel, and given him a good and happy life.  He could have saved him from the hell of living in the Underground City.  A world of perpetual darkness, a world of constant danger and desperation and illness.  People talk about how Kenny gave Levi the tools to survive in such a harsh environment, and treat this as if it’s something to somehow be applauded and praised.  But Kenny shouldn’t have had to teach Levi to survive in a cut-throat environment at all.  He’d made it possible for those with the Ackerman name to live free of persecution up above.  He could have easily taken Levi with him and given him a good, traditional education, fed and clothed him, given him shelter, given him the chance to grow up in fresh air and sunlight, given him a chance to make friends with other children, to learn social skills and just live a normal existence with the opportunity to actually be happy.  But instead Kenny chose to keep Levi in the Underground, to teach him how to kill, to teach him to be violent, and not much else, before simply abandoning him there and never going back, forcing Levi to survive on his own in the most dangerous place inside the walls.  What Kenny did to Levi wasn’t a kindness.  A kindness would have been rescuing Levi from the Underground entirely and giving him a real life above.  A kindness would have been Kenny giving to Levi what he’d planned on giving to his sister.  But Kenny was too selfish to do that, and that’s the bottom line.  He didn’t want to have to take care of and raise a child.  He didn’t want the responsibility.  Whether that’s tied to Kenny’s own, negative perception of himself or not doesn’t matter.  He still chose not to take Levi with him and give him a real life because actually caring for and raising a child would have been too hard, too much work, too much responsibility.  By leaving Levi there in the Underground, he sent Levi the message, clear as day, that he wasn’t wanted.  And so Levi spent the entirety of his childhood, and a good portion of his adulthood, believing that, and living in the Underground, living a life of violence and desperation and suffering.
I don’t think the suffering Levi went through as a child gets discussed or acknowledged enough, or examined enough.  I don’t think people often look at it with enough objective realism to realize the extreme harm and trauma Levi experienced and was left with.  It’s genuinely a miracle that Levi turned out the way he did.  That Levi is as good a man as he is.  Nothing in his life growing up can really account for that.  Everything in his life growing up would evince that he should have become the sort of man Kenny was, selfish and cruel.  It’s truly against all odds that Levi became the exact opposite.  Selfless in the extreme, kind, caring and compassionate above and beyond anyone else in the series.  Someone who fights for and gives his life in dedication to the dreams and lives of others.
In many ways, Levi is, himself, the greatest miracle of all.
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hyperlexichypatia · 1 year
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So let's talk about "disabled people who can't take care of themselves," the people cited as justification for eugenics, institutionalization, oppression, and extermination -- because surely people who can't take care of themselves shouldn't be allowed to be free, right? Ideally, they shouldn't even exist! What does it mean when a disabled person "can't take care of themself"? What does it mean to take care of oneself? What are the barriers to disabled people doing it? Basically, there are three distinct things people mean when they say that a disabled person "can't take care of themselves." Each meaning is a different problem with a different solution. Let's parse them:
The first thing people mean when they say that a disabled person "can't take care of themselves" is that they don't have the money or income to pay for the necessities of life in a capitalist economy. Because ageism, classism, and ableism are all connected, sometimes this ableist argument is applied to abled poor people or  abled young people. Generally, this means that some people can't sell their labor for a high enough price to pay for their necessary commodities. Framing this problem as people being "unable to take care of themselves" is an attempt to medicalize and naturalize what is essentially an economic problem. Calling people "unable to take care of themselves" rather than calling them "poor" or "unemployed" or "underpaid" or "economically exploited" frames the problem as a defect within the poor person rather than as a feature of a deeply unequal economic system. When you hear that someone "has to" be externally controlled because they "can't take care of themselves," ask "Could this problem be solved if they had a guaranteed income that paid for all their needs?" If so, their body or brain isn't the problem. The second thing people mean when they say that a disabled person "can't take care of themselves" is that, because of the impairments of their disability, they can't engage in the activities needed to sustain their body and living space, like cooking, eating, bathing, toileting, cleaning, etc. Unlike the first meaning, this is directly related to disability. But, if you scratch the surface a little, it's still basically solvable with money. Technologies like dishwashers and walk-in showers, or human services like food delivery or housekeeping, are conveniences or luxuries for abled people, but may be necessities for disabled people. The problem is that most disabled people who need them, can't afford them. When abled people with money hire people to help them with their activities of daily living, anything from a housekeeper to a food delivery person to a home nurse, the person receiving the service is the customer, or the boss. The concept of a boss in employee relations is... problematic, to say the least, and leads to the same economic inequalities that are the problem, but in this context, this means that the person receiving the services gets to decide what services they want, and how they want them. They can ask their housekeeper to come in Tuesday instead of Monday, or ask their DoorDash driver to get burritos instead of egg rolls. Most crucially, if a service worker assaults or abuses them, they can ensure that that particular worker won't come back. Because most disabled people are poor, they have to either go without services, or accept limited services paid for by someone else (like their families, or a home care company). This leaves the disabled client with far less recourse. In both cases, the actual worker is probably being underpaid and exploited by a service agency. But when the client is paying the service agency, they have choices about their services that poor people don't have. So once again, the problem is not that disabled people need services. The problem is that poor disabled people, because of their economic situation, lack the control over their lives that rich abled people take for granted. The third thing people mean when they say that a disabled person "can't take care of themselves" -- and, because of the intersection of classism, ableism, ageism, and neurobigotry, they usually mean to be an unstated implication of the other two meanings -- is that a disabled person can't think for themself or make their own choices. Which just means, of course, that they don't communicate in the way that the abled person saying this respects, or they make decisions the abled person saying this disagrees with.
This one is just false. We can reject it on its face. Every disabled person -- every PERSON -- no matter how little money they have, no matter how much assistance they need with daily living tasks, no matter how much or how little formal education they have, or how much their perceptions differ from those of societal norms, is the best arbiter of xyr own best interests about xyr own life. Pro-institutionalization, pro-coercion, and pro-eugenics advocates want to be able to say "She can't take care of herself," meaning "She doesn't have the money for housing," or "He can't take care of himself," meaning "He can't lift himself into the shower without assistance," and have the audience assume this means "They aren't smart enough to make their own choices, and they need someone else to make choices for them," which is always false. We don't need to separate "these" disabled people who can make their own choices from "those" disabled people who can't, because "those" disabled people don't exist. Everyone can, and everyone deserves the right to, make xyr own choices about xyr own body, mind, and life. I wrote a little bit about the "can't take care of themselves" concept here and here, too.
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baldurs-writers-3 · 8 days
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Wyll Ravengard: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic Rec List
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This week, we have Wyll Focused fics! Check under the cut for ten incredible fics all about our favorite folk hero, Wyll Ravengard. And as always, comment and kudos if you like them!
Blood-seeking Blade by specimenbag (24809, Teen) Content Notes: Canon-Typical Violence Pairings: Astarion/Wyll
The end of the world must be nigh, Wyll thought, if Wyll of the Griffins spares a monster and lets him be a bloody traveling companion. Or, the series where Wyll is a Witcher, and Astarion is the vampire he saved
Reccer says: I love literally everything about this AU. The author includes helpful notes to explain witcher terminology so its very accessible. The vibes are immaculate and the characterizations are so well done.
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Nothing Like the Sun by odessacastle (159772, Mature) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion/Wyll
Wyll and Astarion meet before his exile! Fate wants things to proceed down a similar path, however.
Reccer says: It's neat to see two canon companions have the 'oh shit we knew each other before this tadpole bullshit!!' that you normally just see more OC focused, it makes for very different starting interactions. Also man Wyll is bad at vampire spotting.
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the blade falls by PurpleCatGhost (4097, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Wyll & Friends
Wyll used to know his own limits fairly well, but that was before the tadpole. Besides that, having friends you can rely on is also a new experience, though at least this one is a nice one
Reccer says: I really enjoy Wyll realizing just a little bit too late that his injuries are worse than he thought, and then everyone's response to that being "How dare you not tell us you needed help >:("
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Bouquet of the Frontiers by Tavylia_Sin (5796, General) Content Notes: Pairings: Wyll & Friends
Wyll tries to spend the tiefling party off on his own. His friends decide they would much rather adorn him in flowers and affirmations instead.
Reccer says: Very sweet. The found family vibes are impeccable
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Hells Escape Pact by ushauz (17613, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Karlach/Wyll, Astarion/Wyll, Astarion/Karlach, Astarion/Karlach/Wyll
A bit of a 'bad end' for three of the companions. Wyll is a proper demon type in Hell, Karlach never got out, and Astarion got sacrificed in the ritual. What now?
Reccer says: Bad end doesn't have to be bad forever!
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Window to the Soul by normal_thoughts_official (653, Mature) Content Notes: depersonalization Pairings:
little snippets from wyll's childhood, through his time as the blade and how he sees himself as a person (and not)
Reccer says: for a short story it packs a damn punch, left me emotional
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Saviour Complex by fantailsock (12246, Mature) Content Notes: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Pairings: Wyll and Friends, minor Astarion/Wyll
Five times someone helped Wyll out and one time he helped himself.
Reccer says: I'm always a sucker for found family and the team forcing someone to learn how to value themselves, and this fic is perfect for that
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Less Than Ideal by jeejaschocolate (5021, General) Content Notes: some internalized ableism and drinking to cope Pairings: Astarion/Wyll
Being burned by hellfire left Wyll with poor eyesight in his solitary eye. Astarion notices. Of course, he can’t keep his opinions to himself.
Reccer says: Lovely exploration of vulnerability
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a story better than the real thing by not_whelmed_yet (1100, General) Content Notes: N/A Pairings: N/A
Wyll is alone in the woods, in the wilderness, and the heroes of his youth spoke only of victory so maybe he can convince himself of it, too.
Reccer says: a wonderful character study of Wyll as the Blade of Frontiers - creating a storybook persona so he can try and distract himself from the miserable realities of his current situation. very sad. very fascinating.
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And then we have three recs for the following: Allemande by adrezarach (7255, Explicit) Content Notes: None Pairings: Wyll/Tav, Wyll & Ulder Ravengard
Wyll is developing a crush on Tav and comes to realize that they’ve met before, when they were amongst the nobility of Baldur’s Gate! An introspective character study of Wyll, touching on how his life intersects with Tav’s over the course of nine years. He dances, he dreams, and he thinks about the storybook hero he wants to be.
Reccer #1 says: I really enjoyed this read and the author has a Wyll voice that feels very distinctive and true to character. Reccer #2 says: The author has a distinctive and poignant Wyll-voice, and the contrast between the timeframes of the fic is really interesting. Reccer #3 says: The author has such a strong grasp of Wyll’s character and a distinctive narrative voice that suits him really well. I love how they played with past and present so that the reader can see his changing thoughts over his life pre and post pact. It’s a strong piece as a stand-alone, but it’s clear the author has long term plans for this characterization and this dynamic. One of my favorite wyll-centric wylltav pieces.
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The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ!
Next week, we’ll be back with the evergreen trope, Misunderstandings!
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hellsite-yano · 1 month
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Porky, I wanna know how you keep your head up high. I don't wanna share my sob story and general negativity, but it seems that I can get into really depressing spirals sometimes and then when I bring up concerns I have I get called a doomer. Aside from just not caring, how do you remain positive?
I've been stewing on this message for about a month cause I received it at a particularly low point. I know you said you don't wanna share your sob story so I hope you don't mind if I share a bit of mine.
Basically the landlord decided to sell the place I've been living in with my fiance for about 7 years. This was obviously devastating, especially for my fiancee who had to put 70% of her things into storage. After some initial friction between me and my family who were happy to have me back except my kinda neurotic brother, we're staying in their (very small) spare room.
The other issue is that my mum's bed-bound, which is fine, but she needs constant care so the flat is basically a revolving door of carers and district nurses and constantly seeing (and having to constantly let in) strangers is pretty awkward and tiring. I understand this is nobody's fault though, it's just a huge difference to the quiet home life I'm used to. Doesn't help that the building's next to a main road as well.
My auntie also pops in from time to time and while I'm grateful for everything she's done for my mum (basically uplifting her whole life for the past 5 years to constantly make trips to her) and me (buying us furniture and such when we were moving in), she very clearly has undiagnosed ADHD/OCD which, I gotta be real, makes her extremely difficult to be around. It's just one of those families where every little thing has to be a massive drama and it's tiring. The mum and auntie are also jehovah's witnesses but this comes up less often than you'd think, though it's still a point of contention sometimes.
As for how I remain positive, I've been thinking about this question a lot recently. I suppose I try to count the remaining positives. I'm not homeless, I'm still with my fiancee and cat, and I've finally got a decent full time job with a lot of good perks. I'll also be saving a ton of money because I'm paying a fraction of my previous rent (ideally I'd like to save for a deposit).
Another thing that helps is just setting attainable goals. Right now for me it's to hold down this job and endure the housing situation for the time being. I've got a pretty big tax bill coming up in the new year (long story) that I need to save for which is why I opted for my family instead of just renting again. That and renting prices are fucking atrocious right now and you could lose it at any time.
Anyway, that's the situation as it stands. I'm still in the middle of unpacking what little we could bring and the move was particularly stressful, which is why I haven't posted much over the last few days. Times are bad and I've cried a lot but I believe things will get better because I'm working towards it.
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