#both for the sake of beauty and also to gain a deeper understanding of the world.

[wanderingandfound]

Forever in love with how Friends at the Table interpreted the ttrpg archetype of "bard" as an archivist who does pattern magic.

[lovegrowsart]

what do u think of people saying that zuko only helped katara find the tsr because of his own selfish reasons? that he doesn’t care about her like that and just wanted her to stop being mean to him.

thank you for the ask, anon!

i think the first thing to establish is that, imo, it isn't necessarily wholly selfish of zuko to want katara to not be mean to him, even if he comes to a deeper understanding of why she's lashing out at him. it's perfectly within zuko's right to desire being treated well by his peers, especially as someone whose only recently left an extremely dangerous and abusive environment. that is NOT me saying katara is being abusive, she isn't at all, and her anger and distrust towards zuko is also perfectly understandable and relatable, and what's beautiful about their development in tsr is how they work through this conflict together. neither of them are being bad people in this episode - they're both good people that have some damage in their relationship, and i think some fans' attempts to make zuko (or katara ig) out to be the "bad guy" in the situation reductive and quite boring.

still, people generally point to how zuko acts/reacts in the beginning of the episode to paint him as "selfish", because he doesn't realise the depth of katara's hurt re: ba sing se until she yells at him about it - which is the moment that zuko switches from being frustrated with katara's behaviour to understanding and regretful, and immediately asks what he can do make it up to her. when katara lists a few impossible tasks for him, essentially implying that there's nothing zuko can do to improve their relationship and/or ease the hurt and anger she's carrying, zuko goes "well, bet, impossible tasks and relentless determination are my MO!" and goes to sokka, expresses that he cares about what katara thinks of him (as in its not only about wanting katara to stop being mean, but wanting to prove himself to katara, that he's changed for the better and can be there for her/help her), and learns about kya - then he stays outside her tent all night, offers to go on a highly dangerous mission with katara to go after yon rha, and stands by katara when aang and sokka preach forgiveness from their ostrich horse. on the mission, he never once dictates or even suggests what katara should do with yon rha once they find him, and completely follows her lead.

the thing is, if zuko's motivations were wholly selfish and only about getting katara to stop being mean to him, i doubt he would've gone to all those lengths to understand the root of katara's pain and anger (which, again, was never solely about him and what happened in ba sing se), and go on a whole ass mission to hunt down a dangerous someone they know has murdered at least one innocent civilian! it puts zuko at odds with aang and sokka after gaining their trust, which i doubt he wants, it takes time away from training aang and preparing him to face ozai, which i really doubt he wants, and he's going on a mission which someone who doesn't seem to like him all that much atm - not exactly a fun time! if it was really just about getting katara to stop being mean to him sometimes, i don't believe he would've done all that - he would've just accepted his lot and tried to work around katara's behaviour, which was frustrating to him, sure, but he's not thin-skinned or incapable of standing up for himself, he grew up with azula for fuck's sake!

lastly, i think it's pretty obvious that zuko's pretty surprised when katara forgives and hugs him at the end of the episode, which says to me that he wasn't thinking about whether she would do that or not, and certainly wasn't expecting it - which he would've been if his motivations were that selfish, if he was only doing it get katara to chill out or whatever and expected some reward for helping her find yon rha.

anyway, yeah - think i expressed my thoughts on this a bit messily, but tl;dr that i just don't think the way zuko was written and presented in the episode aligns with reading him as being selfish, not after the cliff scene, and tbh that reading often comes from people that have a vested interest in bad faith readings of zuko's character and devaluing zutara's canon development and relationship.

[cancerjupiter]

astrology notes: moon’s origins edition (pt. 2)

moon in libra

libra moons crave the idealized experience of beauty and peace; you seek to co-operate with others, to please, and to establish one-to-one relationships which are mutually gratifying. you also find satisfaction in using your minds, particularly your power of objectivity. a parent who valued you highly and enjoyed pleasing you; who encouraged your aesthetic and intellectual development, and who was willing and able to appreciate your points of view, may have helped you to become attuned to the positive dimensions of a libra moon. 

if, however, your moon is in difficult aspect, or if its trines or sextiles suggest a parent who was only superficially available to you, you may attempt to gain from a partner what you could never experience from our parents. you may become overly dependent upon others, seeking to win their favor by being indispensable and satisfying their every desire. you 're also inclined to avoid confronting our anger and pain, suppressing emotions because you fear any threat to your relationships which might force you to acknowledge your aloneness. these patterns were probably by a parent figure who placed too much emphasis upon appearance or surface harmony, who could not tolerate discord, or who led you to believe that relationship equals subordinating oneself to another. such a mother or father may have brought many unfulfilled needs into parenting, expecting you to compensate for deficiencies he or she experienced in childhood or marriage. 

although your libra moons suggest that your emotional fulfillment requires mutually significant relationships with others, you can only build satisfying connections by first developing a secure relationship with yourselves, accepting as valid your own feelings and needs, and being willing to assert yourselves, even when it means experiencing temporary discord for the sake of more authentic contact. you need to apply your openmindedness and capacity to identify with many points of view in relation to both yourselves, and others - to listen to and affirm each of your internal needs, willingly entering disharmony and imbalance when necessary to create a more enduring harmony and balance which is so vital to you. you need to honor your libran need for beauty and peace, creating environments and relationships which truly soothe and uplift you. 

moon in scorpio

this moon shows you value your privacy; you are capable of considerable emotional intensity and passion; and you need to probe beneath the surface of experience to truly connect with something. when your feelings are denied or your needs unmet, you may easily resort to detrimental scorpio behavior patterns - obsessions with sexuality or money, expressions of revenge or destruction, or demanding and manipulative behaviors. one of the difficulties of a scorpio moon is related to the fear of losing control or surrendering. because of this fear, you may deny or conceal the softer, vulnerable facets of yourselves, preventing yourselves from experiencing the genuine connection you seek. 

you may have internalized messages from your parents which enabled you to develop resourcefulness, endurance and strength of character, and the power to plumb the depths of experience. your sexuality may have been awakened early through the intensity of friendly or family interactions (this doesn’t mean abuse; but sex was one outlet your intense feelings found to let themselves go), so you were forced to come to terms with your own life and death force. a scorpionic parent, however, may have negatively influenced your ability to receive nurturance and to nourish yourselves. perhaps such a parent was hostile and disciplinary, so you developed considerable mistrust and learned to hide your feelings. they may have been dominating, intrusive or sexually provocative, leading you to fear being possessed or overpowered. coldness or stoicism, as manifested in a 'be tough' attitude, may have prevented your internal child from receiving the tenderness and care you needed. sometimes a scorpio moon suggests the premature death of a parent, or a premature confrontation with realities of death or violence. 

you have the power to re-parent yourselves by recovering, accepting and expressing your feelings and emotional needs, not just your sexual desires. you need to contact your core, to possess yourselves rather than others, and to learn how to channel your passion constructively. one task of your scorpionic moon is that of discovering your inner power and drawing upon your own capacities to meet your needs rather than manipulating others to give you what you are unable or unwilling to give yourselves.

moon in sagittarius

if you have a sagittarian moon, you need to be free to expand your boundaries - to discover and actualize possibilities, to travel, and / or to develop your own understanding of things. you have a generous heart and seek to give from your own bounty; you also seek to rise above your difficulties through humor and friendship.

when your real needs aren’t met, or when you come into contact with feelings or desires which threaten you, you may express your sagittarian nature in a defensive or twisted manner - procrastinating or avoiding immediate issues by focusing upon the future, abstract realms or escapism (daydreaming); becoming preoccupied with ideals or goals rather than current tasks; intellectualizing or philosophizing incessantly; joking inappropriately; or moving restlessly from activity to activity or person to person on an endless quest both to escape from responsibility and to fulfill your inner emptiness.

most probably, your mother or significant parent figure provided you with a constructive philosophical framework by which to view life, and imbued you with a love of both internal and external exploration. but such a parent may have been fearful of emotional closeness and taken refuge in themselves rather than responding to your actual needs or feelings or to the difficulties or burdens you experienced. they may have indulged you rather than given you real nourishment. they may have preached rather than gently taught, issuing 'shoulds' or religious principles which may don’t keep up with your own nature and development.

those with moon in sag may need to reparent yourselves by creating your own philosophy and morality apart from your parents and by using your philosophy to help you come to terms with rather than suppress your feelings and needs. your tasks may also include learning to give to yourselves and others, developing the internal freedom capable of existing within limitations and commitments, and discovering and maintaining contact with the god you believe in (if you do), the universe within or whichever internal guiding spirit which leads and inspires you.

moon in capricorn

those of you with a capricorn moon (me!) need the security of organization and structure, and the satisfaction of maintaining commitments and achieving your aims. you take pride in your work and want recognition for your accomplishments. capricorn is the position of the moon's detriment (i know. i know.) and is therefore a particularly difficult position for experiencing emotional nourishment and developing self-nurturing behaviors. when feelings and needs emerge, you may not even allow them fully to enter your consciousness. you may be too afraid of your vulnerability or weakness, and too judgemental of your inner child. repression of the deeper facets of yourselves may lead you to wallow in depression, negativity or self-criticism, to work incessantly, or to isolate yourselves from fulfilling connections with other people. you may continually give ourselves 'be tough' messages which support your self-sufficiency but prevent the real connection with your feelings which makes close relationships possible. 

it is most likely that a parental figure helped you to learn to control your emotions, take responsibility for yourselves and make adult rather than childish decisions; and also provided the consistency and safety you needed to feel secure. however, having a capricorn moon suggests that you could never give free rein to your feelings, and that you probably did not receive much tender nurturance (i did, but it was from another parent; mixed messages can make your feelings even more blurry). your parent may have been cold and rejecting; they may have neglected you or told that your feelings and needs had little value. perhaps they were also a perfectionist you could not satisfy, and whose acceptance was conditional upon notable achievement and success. as a result, you may feel a sense of worth only for what you accomplish, but not for who you are. 

moons in capricorn, you need to create their own standards for yourselves apart from your parents' standards, and to give up compensatory striving which does not meet our genuine needs. your task involves developing an internal source of security and giving yourselves the validation and recognition you may have originally sought from others. you may only experience the fulfillment you seek when, by accepting your feelings and needs and allowing yourselves to be vulnerable, you discover strength and self-sufficiency which embraces rather than denies the sensitivity of your inner child.    

moon in aquarius

your aquarian moon shows that you need to experience and express your individuality, to be free to interact with a wide range of people, and to use your intuitive, inventive and abstract mental capacities, and to contribute meaningfully to society. the energies of aquarius do not mesh easily with the cancerian moon principle. you may have difficulty acknowledging and validating your desires and feelings, and fear closeness and intimacy. when threatened by emerging emotions or needs, you may rationalize or intellectualize, may rebel or loudly proclaim your self-sufficiency, or may become overly preoccupied with meaningless shit. sometimes, moon in aquarius may lead you to make sudden abrupt changes in our lives to overcome the internal suffocation of too much closeness or intimacy with another person and / or lifestyle. cultivating a network of friends, and dedicating yourselves to a cause in which you believe, may fulfill you, but may also be a compensation for unmet personal needs. 

it is most likely that a parent encouraged your aquarian qualities. they may have been intellectual, humanitarian and individualistic, and supported these traits in yourselves. you learned to take pride in your uniqueness and originality, and in your social and mental skills. however, such a parent may also have been emotionally detached or cold, and unable to nurture you physically or emotionally, while remaining responsive to large groups of people and social involvements which were less restrictive and emotionally demanding than ties to you. one or both of your parents may have been erratic when relating to you, so you could not develop trust in stable relationships, and learned at an early age to defend against intimacy. 

you who have aquarian moons need to experience and value your own uniqueness, while simultaneously creating for yourselves your own society of intimates, one in which your emotional needs are respected and met rather than suppressed. you need to develop and trust your intuition, and to use your minds to help you understand your feelings and discover how to meet your needs, rather than escape from them. other tasks of your moon involve cultivating the internal freedom which results from full openness to your emotional natures and learning to be your own friend rather than submerging ourselves in social interactions because of your discomfort with yourselves. you can only have yourself.

moon in pisces

having this placement means that you need space in your lives to drift and to dream, relationships based upon empathic bonds, and openness to sources of inspiration inside and outside yourselves. the water energy of the moon is easily expressed, and sometimes overly emphasized, by a pisces moon. when you experience your feelings and needs, you may even indulge them through long bouts of crying, self-pity, or elicitations of sympathy from other people. with or without awareness, you may seek to escape from yourselves through fantasy or idealization, or through such addictions as alcohol or drugs. many of you with pisces moons may vicariously experience your feelings and satisfy your needs by continually focusing upon the feelings and needs of others and devoting ourselves to their welfare. 

a parent who was a piscean influence most probably responded sensitively and compassionately to you and encouraged your inspirational temperament. however, if your Moon is afflicted, such a parent may also have had a detrimental influence upon you. they may have overindulged you, catering to your aches and pains, or too frequently played the victim, giving to you wholeheartedly but also invoking guilt or seeking complete dedication in return. they may have been hypochondriacal, or of an ethereal nature which could not easily come to terms with physical reality. a piscean parent may have been victim to their own addictions, or tangled in dreams or fantasies and not fully emotionally or physically present. 

moon in pisces may need to learn how to respond constructively to your own feelings and needs, to serve yourselves and give to yourselves rather than attempt to lose yourselves in others. often, because you suffer from a spiritual discontent, you may have difficulty accepting and adapting to the realities of an earthly existence; you need to translate your visions into action, to live those dreams which are viable, forging a link between your practical and spiritual or creative natures. you may seek to experience oneness in close relationships, but you are not likely to know wholly that oneness unless you cultivate your attunement to your own creative and / or spiritual source, and open your hearts to the fullness of both the love and the pain within you.    

[f3296]

Hi I just feel like I need to ramble and maybe some one else out there feels the same way. So in the AOT I’m not all that big on ships just because shipping really isn’t my thing but I do enjoy it to an extent. I consider myself to be a multi shipper because again the relationships in AOT are so complex and I love all the characters and their dynamics. My biggest “ship” would be Eurihan just because that trio to me is all sorts of fun and I love their dynamic.

But with that being said, I find myself to be drifting farther and farther away from the Eruri aspect just because as I continue to reread the manga and pay attention to the themes of the story canonically speaking I don’t actually see any “romance” between them. The Fannon concepts of Eruri are fun and beautifully tragic with the fan arts and stories especially in modern AU. They are a very attractive couple and I fully understand the hype but canonically speaking I just don’t see it anymore. I love their dynamic as a whole and brings such a complex look to both Levi and Erwins character that their friendship is something to admire.

And with that being said I feel their complexity of characters and their story gets lost within the fandom. I think the term that is used is “shipping goggles” when canon stuff of the original story gets lost or replaced for the sake of the ship. Which in this case I feel happens a lot in Eruri specifically.

Now I really don’t want people to feel I am bashing Eruri. I’m obviously a fan with my own fan art and my interactions with mutuals so please no one take offense. This is just a quirk I have in every fandom when canon material gets lost for the sake of a ship.

Specifically with Levi.

Now I understand my biases consider Levi is my favorite character and I truly Kin him. But when I watch edits or read DJs or even just scrolling through things like tumblr or Twitter I find myself avoiding the Eruri tags because I get so frustrated when all I see if Levi’s entire character being based around Erwin. The concept that Levi is only alive to fulfill Erwins promise or he only fights for Erwin and completely derailing his character to be centered around Erwin is frustrating.

Levi fights for all the scouts since the very beginning. When else first meet him and he promises the dying scout he would eradicate the Titans, this is a shared dream the scouts had and has said he will do what he can for All of them. Not just Erwin.

Now this isn’t to disregard Erwins importance to Levi. Erwin gave him a purpose to live, he was his friend and trusted comrade and felt he was the best for humanity. Erwin is important to Levi no one is saying other wise. He just isn’t the center of Levi’s world.

Levi trusted Erwin because he saw something bigger than himself and Levi wanted to help Erwin get there because Levi himself if a very loving and selfless character. This I find to be so beautiful of Levi’s (and mikasas) character.

When Levi learns the truth behind Erwins actions and his selfish reasons to fight for humanity was for the sake of seeing in the basement really sent Levi into turmoil. (I feel this is WITs fault for not expressing this properly in the anime) this is why he continued to pester and push Erwin to know his motives past the basement, because Levi wanted to believe he was this selfless leader he had been finessed into believing he was (because we can’t forget canonically speaking Erwin is a con man and enjoys gambling which makes him and great leader)

Levi tells Erwin to die so he would continue to go down with the facade he was a selfless leader and to continue to live up to the expectation. Levi accepted this fault of Erwin just as he had accepted the faults of all his comrades and their selfish actions.

Levi was canonically devoted to Erwin, but not in the romantic way.

Erwin also never expressed a “interest” in Levi in that matter outside of their friendship and Levi’s abilities. It also should keep in mind that Erwin was ultimately in love with Marie, and chose not to have a family and a wife (which he actually wanted) to avoid having a widow. We can head cannon all day long about how “he realized in his last moments” or “behind the scenes” or interpreting smart press stories a certain way to fit the narrative but it’s just important to remember the difference between cannon material and your own HCs.

Now I know a lot of people will read this and think “wow a levihan shipper wrote this” and you would be right I also ship levihan as well. And they are also not cannon in a relationship as well but the romantic implications for them specifically cannot be ignored because you don’t like them. Levi and Hange are canonically best friends. They are known as the “abnormals” of the scouts. They know each other the best. Their relationship is so complex it cannot be defined as a friendship. (Even Moblit admits he doesn’t have a bond with Hange like Levi does) and it’s okay if you just see them as friends, and I honestly don’t blame a lot of people who do considering WIT really bit the bullet with missing key Levi and Hange moments to better fit their dynamic (I’ve seen people say they aren’t even good friends and that breaks my heart they are besties )

And honestly why wouldn’t you want to ship levihan? This ship in my opinion is the least problematic with the least controversy to it. It’s comforting and sweet and gives a sense of love and family. It’s literally a best friends-> lovers trope. Their friendship is what makes this ship in my opinion so pure and honestly why I fall in love with it more everyday.

And I know some will say “what about Moblit?” And honestly, it bothers me how much he is used to argue levihan because I ultimately feel his character also gets dumbed down as a default for Hange just for shipping and it bothers me too.

*and honestly guys Hange and Moblit isn’t even that great in a ship since considering Moblit became an anxious alcoholic trying to take care of Hange and Hange would get so caught up with their work they wouldn’t even notice. NOTE: they obviously cared for each other as comrades and Moblit felt Hange was needed for humanities survival and cared for them obviously but just my opinion I don’t see that ship working in my opinion.

But in reality guys, I never saw any of these characters “getting together” because they’re soldiers. Their hearts were dedicated to the cause of saving humanity first so that’s the beauty of AOT and the ambiguity of the characters relationships with one another because ultimately they all have attributes to love and benefit each other. Even with the forest scene and the plane for Levi and Hange, I never expected A “happy ending” for them in the sense of platonic or romantic because that doesn’t fit their canon narratives. Levi was destined to be the last soldier standing and brings the complexity of being the perfect soldier with a human heart.

*though the implication of romantic feelings never being acted on were there because they indeed paralleled with eren and mikasa

Levi’s literally means “attached” he attaches himself to the people he cares about and dedicated his strength and ability to help others gain their hopes and dreams.

Erwin tragically lost his humanity to become the devil for the sake of humanity which ultimately left him fruitless to his venture.

Hange taking on the burden of making the tough decisions and shouldering the weight of the deaths of the soldiers and Erwins legacy left them feeling loss and useless until their sacrifice.

All these characters have such complexity to them, they are all deeper than their fannon ship and should be appreciated and the narrative shouldn’t be shifted for the sake of a ship.

Levi didn’t fight to the end for just Erwin he did it for all of them.

So again, sorry for my rambles and I hope there will be those who read this and understand where I am coming from with this and understand though I will continue to ship all three, it still makes me sad I feel I can’t interact with some without them destroying entire characters for the sake of the ship.

So again love ships not ship wars. That’s the fun part when ships aren’t cannon you can just mix and match whenever you feel like it ❤��❤️

[mageofseven]

Part 3 with Beel and Belphie is ready!

Part 1 | Part 2

~

Beelzebub:

The big guy noticed the changes with his girlfriend before she even mentioned them; the sixth brother is pretty observant with those he cares about after all.

Whenever he discussed how worried he was about her, about her lethargy and dizzy spells, the woman would just smile and say she was fine, that it was just her body being off and human bodies are just weird like this at times.

Beel didn't know much about the human body so he chose to believe his Muffin on this, even if he was still worried.

As the months went on, MC started to gain weight. The demon noticed this, but it really didn't faze him at first; he didn't mind it if his girlfriend was a bit rounder in her torso.

What he did mind however was how self-conscious his girlfriend got about it. She had been eating a lot more recently and she couldn't really fight it, but she also hated every pound gained from it all.

Beel always told her how beautiful she was and how her weight never changed that to him.

However, she'd glance down at how her belly poked out now and looked to her boyfriend, who was so incredibly strong and was practically the living definition of fitness and was so good looking... and she couldn't help but fall even deeper into the slow burning feeling of loathing with of her own body.

One day, MC asked if she could go to the gym with him. The Avatar of Gluttony was immediately tense because she still wasn't feeling well, but he knew it would probably make her feel a bit better if she was exercising and actively working on what was bothering her

So he agreed, but the man couldn't bring himself to do his usual workout routine with her there. The big guy was just too worried about his Muffin.

At one point, the man just noticed that something seemed off about his Human.

He set down the weights and walked over to the treadmill she was on-- and got there just in time to catch her as she fainted.

Luckily, the woman woke up fairly quickly, but her boyfriend had enough; no more exercise for her, not until she got her dizziness under control.

For the next few days, the MC was extra depressed and just found herself in bed more, usually snuggled up with either Beel or Belphie.

It was one such day when the cramping started.

She had gotten to lay with Beel for awhile, but eventually he had to leave for the game with his teammates.

Usually, MC would go and watch him play, but since her cramps were so bad, she didn't really have this option.

She was cuddled up in bed with Belphie when the redhead gave her a kiss goodbye and told her and his twin that he'd come straight home, receiving a nod from his Muffin and a thumbs up from his twin.

The pain just got worse while he was gone though and things evolved to MC gripping onto the Avatar of Sloth and heavily sobbing into his chest.

The seventh brother couldn't move and get help; everytime he tried, the human would beg between sobs for him not to leave her. He couldn't call for help either because he realized that he left his phone up in the planetarium.

Belphie was stuck with the sobbing human for over three hours until Beel came home.

Eventually, MC could feel something lowering within her and the need to push was unbearable.

"B-Belphie, help me up!"

The man did as he was told and helped her off the bed.

Beely came into the room just in time to see his girlfriend squatting and pushing out the head while his twin held onto her to help keep her balanced.

Eyes wide, the demon ran to girlfriend. His brain wasn't fully registering what the heck was happening, but his immediate reaction was still to rush to her side and help her.

MC immediately grabbed onto her boyfriend.

"B-Beely--uhhh... i-it's coming out."

Still deeply confused and concerned, the man's gaze dropped down between her legs, now letting himself focus on the head between them.

MC... his Muffin was having his baby!

Okay action then thoughts. Right now, the man just had to be there for her.

"Belphie, go tell Lucifer. We need a doctor."

The man was really trying to keep calm for his Muffin.

Without really pausing to answer, his twin rushed out the door.

"It's okay, Muffin, I'm here."

The redhead held onto his girlfriend and encouraged her as she pushed.

When the baby was finally pushed out enough to be freed from it's mom, Beel already had his hands around it so it didn't fall to the floor.

The demon forgot to breathe for a minute as he stared down at his daughter. His daughter.

Smiling, Beel lifted his gaze back to his girlfriend, but found that the woman was still crying in pain.

"Muffin?"

"I-It still--ughhhh, I think there's another."

The man's eyes widen.

Beel noticed his girlfriend's legs shaking and knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself up.

He adjusted his hold on his little girl before guiding MC onto the bed to lay down. He stayed between her legs and continued to give her encouraging words.

Since their sister already stretched the way open for them, the second baby was crowning in very little time.

A few minutes later, MC birthed the second baby, another girl. Both girls had his wings, horns, even his hair and eye color.

The man held both girls in his arms, already overwhelmed with his love for them, before looking up at MC, who was regaining her breath.

Beel sat down next to her and kissed her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

His girlfriend nodded, gaze falling to their girls.

"Beely... we're parents now?"

Beel smiled and nodded.

"I..." The woman sighed. "How did this even happen?"

"I dunno... are you okay with this, Muffin?"

"...Are you?"

His smile grew.

"Yeah."

She gave her boyfriend a small smile.

"Then... I am too."

Beel leaned down and kissed her.

"Good. I love you... I love our girls." The demon smiled down at the twins in his arms before meeting MC's eyes again. "This is... a dream. All at once, I got everything I wanted in life. I'll make sure to give you and the girls everything I can."

The doctor finally came a few minutes later, obviously late. Still, he checked MC and the girls to make sure they were okay and before he even left, the rest of House of Lamentation knew that the two were now parents.

Belphegor:

It took Belphie a bit longer than his twin to realize something was wrong with MC.

Sleepy boy... well, has a sleepy mind.

Not to say that it took him long though; while Beel noticed the human feeling off in his scenario on the first day, it took his twin about three days.

Honestly, he wasn't really worried about how tired they got. Hell, that just meant more naps they could take together so the Avatar of Sloth was winning in that regard.

He didn't really care about the weight gain either. Yeah, he teased her about it a bit, but it was always followed by wrapping his arms around her waist and if his words actually hurt her, which sometimes they did, he'd sleepily kiss their neck, their cheek, their lips

"It was a joke, Butthead." He'd tell them. "If anything, you're even cuter with a belly."

And the boy thrived off the blush that came after.

What the boy didn't enjoy, however, was her dizzy spells. The woman would go pale and suddenly have to grab onto him. Sometimes, MC would even full on faint and he'd have to quickly catch her before she hit the ground.

The first time that happened, the two were on their way to lunch at RAD and suddenly his girlfriend stopped walking. He turned around to ask why she stopped just for the woman to fall forward and for him to have to scramble to catch her.

Luckily, the woman was only out for a minute and was confused when she woke up in her boyfriend's arms, laying on the hallway floor at RAD.

Belphie took her straight home after that, not even giving the human the option to stick around and finish the school day.

The demon didn't understand what was wrong with his Human and whenever he'd ask MC, the woman didn't seem too concerned. Lightly, yes, but she said it'd probably correct itself and human bodies are just weird for the sake of being weird sometimes.

The seventh brother wasn't sure that he believed it, but he also didn't have any other answer so he just chose to leave it at that.

Basically, it was months of Sleepy Boy pretending he didn't care, but secretly hovering over his girlfriend.

After nine months of this hovering, it finally ended.

The two were upstairs in the attic, napping.

MC had been having cramps all day and Belphie suggested just sleeping through them, saying that eventually they will just go away.

Technically, he was right, just not in a way he expected.

He woke up to MC heavily sobbing his name. The man jolted awake and found his girlfriend gripping his shirt and burying her face in his chest.

"What's wrong--"

That's when he noticed the bed was... wet? Why was it wet?

"B-Belphie, somethings--gaaahh." The woman was panting through the pain.

The demon threw the blanket off of her and saw that the bed was soaked, as was her leggings, but there was also a slight bulge.

He pulled them down and saw that she was crowning.

His eyes went wide. She's pregnant? How the hell is she pregnant?

He looked back up at MC, who was still crying from the contractions, and knew he had to handle this before anything else.

He got up from the bed and positioned himself between her legs.

"You gotta push." He told her. "It's not gonna end if you don't push, Butthead."

His voice was firm, but tinged with some sympathy.

The woman was in too much pain to argue.

It took twenty minutes, but the MC managed to push the baby out half way, only to be pulled out completely by her boyfriend.

The demon stared down at the baby, a boy with his tail, eyes, and hair, and didn't know how to feel. He had gotten so focused on helping MC that his emotions felt lightyears away.

The human cried out and his head snapped up to look see her still writhing in pain.

Was there another one? The man quickly found out that there was.

And so it all repeated.

Once the second one was born, a little girl with his horns and eyes, but MC's hair, Belphie stared down at the twins on the bed, crying at the top of their lungs.

The man was already so tired of hearing cries.

"B-Belphie..."

He looked up at MC, who had a panicked expression on her face.

Leaving the twins laying between her legs, the Avatar of Sloth went back to his side of the bed and pulled her into his arms.

Neither said a word for a while. The only sound in the room were their twins' cries.

"I didn't know..." MC mumbled.

Belphie pulled back to meet her eyes, just staring into them for a full minute.

"Promise me. Promise that it's true and you didn't know."

"I promise. I swear on everything I have with you that I had no idea."

He sighed.

"Okay." He leaned in and kissed her.

After a moment or two, he pulled away and looked down at the crying babies on the bed.

"So... what do you wanna do with them?"

"I..." The woman stared down at her babies. "C-Can you bring them to me?"

Her boyfriend nodded and scooped up the babies one at a time to bring into her arms.

The woman brought them to her chest, causing them to finally stop crying in favor of feeding from her.

Belphie watched this quietly, not really sure what else to do.

After about a minute or two, MC spoke up.

"Belphie... would you be mad at me... if I said I wanted to keep them?"

The woman knew her boyfriend wasn't a fan of kids, a topic they always clashed with a bit. MC didn't think she could survive losing her twins in anyway now that they're here, but she worried about what Belphie would think of this.

The man pursed his lips. He honestly never wanted kids before, never liked them. Still though... he felt odd. Different.

Maybe it was seeing MC hold his children so sweetly in this moment, but he wasn't as against this as he always imagined himself to be.

Was he at the beginning of developing paternal feelings or was he simply not strong enough to take away something that his girlfriend obviously wanted so much? The demon wasn't sure.

"No. I'm not mad." He shook his head. "I... damn, I don't understand how this is happening but... if you want this then I'm here for the long haul. I'll take care of them; I'll take care of you. We'll do this together."

~

Part 1 | Part 2

[g1r1t1n4]

korekiiyo shiingujii ana1ysiis

spoii1ers for ndrv3!

iit’s quiite hard to wriite 1iike thiis wiith autocorrect on, so from the 1iine break be1ow ii wii11 not be usiing my typiing quiirk Σ(･口･)

word count (exc1udiing author’s notes): 1,611 words

tota1: 1,717 words

for siimp1iiciity's sake, ii've done thiis on computer so that there's not a wa11 of text

~*~

"You wonder, "Who is this?" Yes... I shall make that clear first. My name is Korekiyo Shinguji... I am called the Ultimate Anthropologist."

~*~

Hello everyone, my name is Milo, and today I’ll be doing my best to cover one of my favorite characters in the Danganronpa universe, Korekiyo Shinguji. He is originally from the 3rd mainline game, New Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony. Since I don’t physically own the game, I’m basing most of this essay entirely on the Danganronpa Wiki page for Shinguji. Please read that if you desire a more lengthy look at his actions from an unbiased perspective since this one leans more towards empathy than hatred. Whoops!

We first properly meet him after talking to everyone else inside of Hope’s Peak. He’s in the main hall and standing away from the doors leading out to the courtyard. When he introduces himself, Shinguji goes on to talk about anthropology and the beauty of humanity. This proceeds to creep Akamatsu out.

Alongside that, in Chapter 3, we are unfortunately forced to see his relationship with his sister. It’s weird and only gets weirder if you spend two of your Free Time events talking to him when you first play as Akamatsu. He’s evaluated that all girls present at the academy would be great “friends” for his sister, barring Iruma and Harukawa. This is because Shinguji believes that Harukawa doesn’t believe in the power of love, and Iruma is just… well, she’s Iruma. Hardly the girl you would want to send home to your parents.

This weird incest plotline is unfortunately present in most Danganronpa games, such as Leon and his cousin (though one-sided on his cousin’s behalf; he didn’t like her), Tsumugi in the Love Hotel (if you consider that canon), and Monotaro & Monophanie (which is then implemented into Gokuharu’s execution, killing them both).

His sister’s name is never disclosed in-game or in any other Danganronpa media, so the fandom dubbed her “Miyadera/Miyatera,” which is an alternate way of reading Shinguji’s last name. The miya character - represented as 宮 - and tera character - 寺 - are both present in Shinguji, 真宮寺. For the rest of this essay/paper, I’ll be referring to his sister as Miyadera, and himself as Shinguji.

I’ll be getting deeper into his mischaracterization later on, but I want to talk about his appearance for now. Mainly, his hair, his mask, and the lipstick he wears. From what we see of Miyadera in Shinguji’s execution, if that is Miyadera at all, we can see that she had long hair, and when Shinguji was turned into a ghost, it was the exact shade of Shinguji’s hair. From here, we can assume that Miyadera looks exactly, if not similar, to Shinguji.

His lipstick and mask are results of representations of his tulpa, Miyadera. Tulpa is defined as “a concept in mysticism and the paranormal of a being or object which is created through spiritual or mental powers.” In much simpler terms, it is an object or living thing that was created/imagined through spiritual/mental abilities. Shinguji gained a tulpa by being beaten half to death by villagers shortly after arriving there. When he was in a state between life and death, he saw his sister, who joined his subconscious and took control of his body whenever his mask was off. It’s why we only see him take off his make once Saihara dubs him the culprit of Chapter 3, and why his voice suddenly took a more feminine tone. A quote from Miyadera, which can be found in the game, is, "Sweet Korekiyo, calm yourself... Their words are all hollow. There is no meaning to any of them... You must teach these ignorant children a lesson."

That statement can be interpreted two ways, one; that she’s trying to calm him down and two; she’s repeating whatever she said to him during childhood. It’s implied that Miyadera passed away from disease sometime before Killing Harmony takes place, which is both a good and bad thing. It’s great because then we have some time frame of how she was and how she acted when Shinguji knew her best.

Whenever I read the quote above, or any of her quotes, to be honest, I am filled with a sense of dread, or even, despair. The following quote especially makes me feel terrible; "Calm yourself, Korekiyo. You mustn't raise your voice. You mustn't stutter. You mustn't lose composure. You mustn't become flustered. You mustn't waver. Look at their horrid faces. This sorry lot is not worth agonizing over."

Have you noticed how she’s setting guidelines on how to defend himself? She’s turning Shinguji’s attention away from Saihara and the trial and to her because she knows that Shinguji trusts her even after all these years.

You might be wondering, “Milo, what the hell does that all have to do with Shinguji?” And I’ll tell you plain and simple: he was abused by Miyadera. Shocking, I know. Having Shinguji rave and rant about being in love with her, only to be a victim? Sadly, it’s very true indeed. Shinguji was most likely groomed and gaslighted into thinking that Miyadera loved him when that was not the case.

Gaslighting is defined as, “[to] manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity.” From the two quotes I provided, it doesn’t seem to make sense. Miyadera only sounds like a kind, worrisome older sister. Incorrect, I say. She’s emotionally gaslighting him, trying to make him believe that the trial makes no sense and he shouldn’t worry about any of them. I can also bet she used this tactic to control him as a younger person as well.

It’s a well-known fact that children are both impressionable and gullible. If an older sister figure came up to you as a child and told you to do unmentionable things, unfortunately, you might follow her directions. Shinguji states that his sister was a sickly girl who often stayed in the hospital. When she would come home, he’d be at his easiest to manipulate. Why would his dear, sweet, sickly, older sister ever lie to him?

Next, I’m going to be covering his relationships with other students, namely Shuichi Saihara and Rantaro Amami. These will delve further into spoiler territory, so if you didn’t already read the warnings I put in place, here is your extra warning for spoilers for Chapter 3 of Killing Harmony.

To start with, I’ll be exploring his poorer relationships first. Most of the girls fit into this category, namely Iruma, Harukawa, Chabashira, and Yonaga - that means he has a terrible standing with four of the eight girls present at the beginning of Killing Harmony, five if you count Yumeno’s way of dealing with Chabashira’s murder. Shinguji even taunts her once they solve that mystery, stating, “Let me guess, you’ll never forgive me. Himiko, you must hate me so very much right now. Maybe you’d feel better if I was executed by Monokuma…”

Shinguji has a poor relationship with Iruma and Harukawa due to seeing them as “unfit” to be “friends” with Miyadera. He has a poor relationship with Chabashira because he’s a degenerate male, but he still thinks she made a good friend for his sister. His poor relationship with Yonaga is shown in Chapter 3 when Yonaga forms the student council. Once again, I’m making amends to some parts of the characters. I’ll be referring to Yonaga’s god as God, simply because Atua is an actual Polynesian god in real life. Shinguji doesn’t worship any god, and so wants to study Yonaga’s God purely for anthropologic purposes. This displeases Yonaga, who then states that God's business hours are closed for the day. In Chapter 3 when Yumeno brings up Yonaga’s God, he simply asks whether or not they’re done talking about it, cementing his distrust in faith.

Next, I’ll cover his better relationships. Akamatsu isn’t too terribly creeped out by him and instead sees Shinguji as a kind guy who cares about his sister. Akamatsu even apologizes for saying that Shinguji would be into inc*st, this event either taking place in his first or second Free Time event. I’m saving his and Saihara’s relationship for last since I’ll have the most to write about then. Instead, please enjoy the news that in the events of Ultimate Talent Development Plan (UTDP for typing purposes), Shinguji and Amami are actually great friends. In Amami’s first free time event, he tells Akamatsu that Korekiyo has a strong personality, but she’ll be able to understand him plenty if she takes time to. It’s also stated that Amami emphasizes that Shinguji is also the calm and clever type.

Lastly, I’ll be exploring his relationship with Saihara. It’s slightly rocky, if only because Shinguji hasn’t let go of his sister yet, but it’s miles better than his relationship with Chabashira. Slight side note before we begin, I’ll be discounting the Love Hotel scene mostly because I’m a minor and I don’t feel completely comfortable having to watch that simply because I’m writing an analysis. As the game progresses to Chapter 3, Shinguji and Saihara have built trust between themselves. While Saihara still found Shinguji creepy, he [Saihara] never discounted him simply for existing. There was even a point where Shinguji offered to help Saihara communicate with Akamatsu from beyond the grave, though he was turned down.

Korekiyo Shinguji is a misunderstood and somewhat tragic character who usually gets disregarded and uncredited all because people do not like him. However he’s not an “uwu soft twamatized bean <3” either. He’s a strong character who has questionable morals at best and a terrible representation of an abused character at worst.

~*~

thank you for readiing!! p1ease make sure to get a hea1thy amount of s1eep and that you do have a cup of water and some food, you deserve iit!!

sources:

- https://danganronpa.fandom.com/wiki/Korekiyo_Shinguji

- https://www.quotev.com/story/7873923/Danganronpa-Class-Trials/73 (siide note: how fucked up iis iit that ii was on1y ab1e to fiind a transcriiptiion of the triia1 on quotev)

[franeridart]

Anon said: How are you just like "Oh these are just some warm up sketches" and post a full finished piece, while I'm over here sketching a triangle person and calling it a finished piece.

I dunno if this was a legit question asking for a legit answer, but I do happen to have a legit answer so I might as well give it! If I wanted to go into detals with it it’d take me forever though, so allow me to separate it into two points to make it easier

I learnt how to be very fast in putting down my lines and trained myself into not overthinking every single dot I put down. This took about five or six years of drawing daily and a whole life of drawing occasionally before then, because to do so you need to reach a point where you’re drawing something you’ve drawn so many times that by now your hand sort of goes without you needing to think about it much, so it’s not a fast process, but boy is it worth it. Mostly learning how to not overthink it, overthinking it used to be 90% of my time spent on a drawing and dear god did it suck the joy out of everything I drew

I have two very distinctive ways of approaching a drawing, one where I actually put effort in it and the other where I just want to let the squiggles out of my pen, and warm ups are the second one - the lack of effort I’m putting in can have different forms and show in different ways, so a warm up could be a fully colored piece as it could be just a pencil doodle, depending on where and on what exactly I’m being lazy: it could be the type of tool I’m using that allows me to draw without having to line, it could be a very tiny canvas that lets me avoid a ton of details a big canvas would demand. I might be cutting the time I usually put in making sure my anatomy is correct, I might be using a shading technique that takes a tenth of the time my usual one would, I might be using a style that’s just easier and faster to draw, or drawing characters I’ve drawn a trillion times in extremely generic poses and clothes. There’s a lot of things that I can do to make things faster for me! It’s skills you gain as you draw a lot - you learn how to draw things the hard way, and then you realize that along the way you learnt how to do them the easy way too

hope this actually answers your question! If it was a question at all lol if it wasn’t then sorry for rambling, please pretend I didn’t say anything hahaha

Anon said: I love your newest comic!!! So adorable!! I noticed Bakugou's mom does the affectionate hair rustle thing to him in the manga/anime, do you think Bakugou subconsciously does the same to show affection cause of it? I love the way you draw faces and poses, it's so expressive!!

Ahhhhh thank you so much!!! And yeah, it might be! After all we do take a lot from the people we live with even without realizing, and he’s already so similar to his mom!

Anon said: I saw your bakushima comic from October 9th (2019) where Bakugo falls asleep studying and Kirishima sets him down on the table properly and it was so soft my heart is crying

;;;;; !!!!!!!! I’m glad you liked it!! <3<3

Anon said: If it not to much, could I possibly get a Ochamina doodle pls? I just love some sweet lesbeans 👉👈

Awww I’m not taking requests right now, but I’ll keep it in mind for next time I want to doodle and don’t know what!

Anon said: I love your art! I envy you.

Please don’t! There’s a lot of reasons why being me isn’t a lot of fun - if it’s just my skill you envy, then all you gotta do is draw a lot! 

Anon said: i just went through your entire kiribaku tag and omg it was beautiful seeing the progression in your art skills but still keeping the same funny/cute/heartwarming/etc traits you thought up for their dynamic!! i hope that makes sense haha !! love your art keep it up

It does make sense!!! Thank you so much both for looking through the whole tag and for thinking so, it means a lot to me!! ;;; <3<3

Anon said: Hey fran! I hope you're doing well(especially with quarantine and all)!! I really love your anatomy and how fluid and stylistic it can be! It's super fun to look at! I wanted to ask you if you ever did any in depth studies on anatomy? Like muscles and bones. I've heard a lot of artists mention the necessity of studying bones/muscles, i'd really like to know your opinion on the subject

Ahhh god thank you so much!! And... hmm let’s see if I can word this properly and have it make sense - always keeping in mind that this is just my opinion, of course!

If all you want to do is to draw, then all you need to do is to pick up your pencil and draw - it’s really that easy as far as I’m concerned. You don’t need to know anatomy in depth to just draw, everyone has seen a person, everyone knows how a person looks. That is, if all you want to do is to draw for the sake of drawing. If you want to draw an anatomically correct looking human being, though, you do need to know how anatomy works - and the deeper you’ll go into studying it the more correct your people will look. It’s kind how everyone can draw a bicycle, but if you want to draw a realistic bicycle you’re gonna need to look up references for it, you know? It’s all on the level at which you’re interested in drawing, the more technically skilled you want to be the more you’ll have to study

As for my personal experience with this, I hate studying with a passion. Studying puts a damper on my enjoyement of everything, and drawing isn’t excluded from this - you put a book in front of me expecting me to study it and suddenly I never want to pick up a pencil again. This means that I never sat down and studied anatomy in depth and all in one go just to learn how to draw a human being, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t, slowly and now and again and in bits and pieces, study parts of the body to get a better understanding of it. I know better about the skeleton than I do about muscles, and I still have enough to learn about everything that anyone who’s studied anatomy properly would find a trillion mistakes in everything I draw, but my way of going about drawing has always been and always will be putting my enjoyement of it first and foremost, so I’m not interested in putting myself through a tour-de-force to learn everything there is to know about anatomy just to make my doodles look appealing to someone with a medical degree haha I’m just doing me, and when the mood is right I look up how to properly draw something, but until then I just do it as best as I can with my limited knowledge, being fully aware that what I’m producing is far from accurate but being willing to make that compromise for my own comfort

So that’s my opinion on it lol it all boils down to how important it is for you to know how to properly draw the human body - of course it’s gonna look more professional and better if you’ve studied it, but everyone has their own priorities, you know?

Anon said: Thank you for your hard work, seeing an upload from you is so nice, and the colors are so pretty

Thank you so muuuuccchhhhh!!!! TTATT <3<3<3

Anon said: Opinions on Tokoyami Fumikage 💕

One of my top faves in the whole manga, actually! I have a drawing in the making of him, I should get back to it..........

Anon said: HOLY SHIT FRAN THE TOES HOW YOU DRAW THE TOES SO WELL FEET ARE THE DEATH OF ME AND YOU’RE OVER HERE DRAWING TOES THEY’RE SO GOOD PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR WAYS!!! -❤️

Thank you!!!!!!!! So pretty much my way of learning this specific skill was being obsessed with elves when I was fifteen and wanting to draw them all the time  and also for whatever reason being convinced that they were not supposed to wear shoes so I just drew a lot of feet with references and tutorials and stuff till I could draw my elves properly. Which isn’t necessarily what you need to do to learn how to draw feet, but, I mean, it worked for me lol

Anon said: I love ur Bnha ships and all but what would u do if some of them didn’t become canon??

Oh, I actually don’t care about that at all? I don’t expect most of them to become canon anyway - like, ochadeku sounds reasonable and kamijirou seems to be getting there, but everything else I never even considered it as an actual possibilily. I don’t really ship because I want to see my ships become canon, I just like the potential in what I can make with them? If that makes sense? They’re just fun to think about and I like making fancontent, that’s all there is to it really haha honestly if I had my way no ship would ever be canon ever ha ha ha

Anon said: Slep is for the wek

No actually sleep is for Frans who want a chance at getting up tomorrow morning without an headache for once, so I should do that and go to sleep already lmao

[anime-alyssa]

vulnerable (mando x reader)

because of a past experience in a marriage, you find that you have a hard time feeling comfortable around din. to show how much he loves you and that you can truly be yourself around him, he shows you his most vulnerable self.

do not read this if anxiety triggers you or small mentions of past abuse trigger you. its nothing to graphic, but please take care.

also on ao3. donate to my ko-fi if you enjoyed this! 

Din Djarin thought you were perfect the moment he laid eyes on you. Which was truly a statement because when he found you, you were a mess. You hadn't showered in days, had been on the run for a few days, trying to escape your spouse from an arranged marriage. They were not the most pleasant of people, and you had known that going into it. Unfortunately, you did not have a say in things.

You saw him coming from a mile away - he was actually out to bring you in. A Mandalorian in the woods of Naboo? He could only be there for one thing and that was to bring you in, back to your spouse. The one who would leave you for nights on end to go to brothels and enjoy other people. The one who would shame you for your perfectly healthy weight every day - would call you ugly every day, sometimes getting physical when you tried to fight back. The spouse who would say they’d rather be married to anyone else in the galaxy than you, but yet was trying so hard to get you back just for image and ego’s sake.

Your first mistake was running in the woods. You were in a large tunic that was big enough to be a dress, a pair of thin leggings underneath and a pair of sandals that were beat to shit. Not exactly running material but when you saw the beskar shining in the distance you booked it as fast as you could. You had been able to out run the other bounty hunters that had been after you, but something in your gut knew that you couldn’t outrun the Mandalorian. You had to try anyway.

A tree root sticking out of the ground did you in. You tripped over the damn thing and fell face first into the dirt, yelling as you fell. Forcefully you were turned over, face-to-mask with the bounty hunter. Your heart was beating out of your chest and, much to his surprise that he later told you, you instantly burst into sobs. He froze above you, his hand having both of your wrists in it.

"Please just kill me." you begged to him through sobs once he pinned you against the ground. He cocked his helmet to the side, studying your trembling, sobbing form on the ground beneath him.

"You want me - what?" he asked, almost in shock. Sure, he heard that statement plenty of times from people - but from you he didn’t expect. The bounty was to bring you back, because your spouse had said you were ‘deranged and in danger’ - but you somehow proved him wrong.

"I'd rather die than go back - please." you begged once more. It was then that he saw the bruises on your arms, the black eye that you had.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, helping you stand up and catching you when you almost fell over on your injured ankle.

“T-th-they did.” you sobbed again, wiping your tears with your sleeve. All you heard was a hum through the modulator as the Mandalorian helped you back to the ship. Much to your surprise, he sat you down and started wrapping up your ankle.

He spared you that day. You did not go back to your ex-spouse. In fact, the Mandalorian told you that your spouse had passed away, was murdered in a brothel. You had a weird feeling in your chest that he had called in a few favors, but said nothing and did nothing except cry tears of relief.

Din kept you on to care for the Child. The green bean had taken a massive liking to you and Din thought that someone to stay with him while he took bounties was a good idea. You had no where else to go, so you agreed. Luckily you adored the little creature.

Seeing the two of you interact was what made Din start falling for you to begin with. You were kind, gentle, and understanding with the kid - and most of all patient. Oh lord, were you patient with the little thing. When he was crying because he was so exhausted but didn’t want to sleep, when the type of frog you had for him wasn’t the one that he was in the mood for, you sat with him, waited for him to finish crying it out, and got back to business.

“Are you done yet?” you asked him one night when he was sitting in your lap by his cradle, fighting sleep and refusing to even sit in the damn thing, tears clogging his little nose and panting. He looked up at you with wide eyes and blinked and just dove into your chest, snuggling you to the best of his ability the little thing, out like a light in less than three minutes flat.

“How - what - he - ” Din started in amazement, more so marveling at the fact that you, not once, lost your temper. Din’s been there, most of the time just letting him cry till he knocks out eventually.

“He’s a baby. Sometimes he doesn’t know what’s best for him, and the only thing you can do is not lose your shit. It would make him more upset.” You said, standing up and gently putting the little monster into the cradle, shutting the top.

Din had never seen anything like you before, had never interacted with anyone like you before. He almost didn’t know what to do or how to act around you, especially when he started to garner feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was to screw things up, especially knowing your last relationship/marriage.

It wasn’t even his intention to admit anything to you. But evidently, fate had another idea.

He had just gotten back with a quarry. Normally you would high-tail it up to the cockpit or into the small bunk, but you had just gotten out of the refresher. Towel-clad and dripping wet, of course. You hadn’t even heard him come in or you would have stayed in the room. The quarry had broken out of his cuffs and gotten behind you in a second, taking one of Din’s knives from his weapons closet and bringing it against your neck.

“Ain’t she a beauty, Mandalorian? You let me go, I let her go in one piece… for now.” he had said, laughing as you started to tremble. It set off flashbacks to being married, your spouse having his hands around your neck as he told you how worthless you were, hurting you.

You closed your eyes as you felt the knife start to dig slightly deeper into your neck - until it dropped. You heard a blaster go off and let out a squeal, hearing something then drop to the floor and then getting dragged away. It all happened in a flash, within a second.

“Hey - look at me, you’re okay. You’re okay.” Din said to you as he dragged you into his cold, hard chest, engulfing you and trying to calm you down. He had dealt with you like this before, having nightmares every night for a month and panic attacks constantly as a result of your abuse. It was a trial and error for him to figure out what the best way to calm you was, and sure enough he figured out that what worked for you was this. A calm, strong, nice embrace from him was not what he was expecting, but he did it for you.

"I'm - I'm s-sorry - I didn't hear - hear you come in-n-n-n." you stuttered out to him, still trembling as he held you.

"It's not your fault." he said to you slowly. Your shaking form nodded against his chest. Normally by the time you were responsive he would have let go, give you a little bit of space. Today he didn't - felt like he couldn't just yet. He had nearly lost you - could have lost you if he hadn't thought quickly. "Just can't lose you - mean too much to me."

Din froze. He didn't even know the words left his mouth until he felt you go slightly stiffer under him. It was now his turn to panic as he didn't quite mean for that to come out, ever. That wasn't something that he wanted to deal with right now - not in the slightest.

Your mind was buzzing as well. You had started to gain feelings for the Mandalorian months ago, when you first saw how kind he was under all the armor. You didn't know if you were ready, or if you were ever going to be ready. But lately you had felt like you improved so much from where you were before, that you were considering seeing where he stood.

After awkwardly getting up and putting the quarry into the carbonite chamber, you had retreated to the bunk to change out of your towel. He didn't talk to you for the rest of the trip until after the quarry had been dropped off, avoiding your gaze when you were with the Child. You eventually made the first move back on him.

"What you said yesterday... I just want you to know I feel the same." you said to him. In moments like these, he truly was terrifying. There was no way to tell how he was feeling so you thanked the maker that the Child started crying about something so you could dash away.

That was the last you had ever mentioned it, because after that things changed. The forehead touches, the embraces, taking the kid when you were tired; Din had changed for you for the better. He got into the flow of taking high paying jobs whenever he could - which meant that he was gone a lot more than you hoped. You knew he was doing it to be able to provide for all of you the best he could. Sometimes he worked harder to get you actual food rather than just shitty portions.

It didn't take long for you to move into his bunk. You fought him on the matter - it was one of the only places that he could take his helmet off in the whole ship. But his bunk was better than yours and your back was starting to hurt, so you let him win. There was enough room for the two of you plus the kid got his own 'space' away from the two of you - to your benefit, of course.

He made you feel like you were on top of the world. But when he wasn't around, things got difficult for you. He wasn't there to tell you how beautiful you were when you started to doubt yourself. You had some scars, some from yourself and some from your former spouse. You hated it - hated that after nearly a year from running it was still in the back of your mind.

Why would Din want someone who was scarred like you were? He could easily find someone else, someone perfect, flawless, and yet he chose you. You weren't deserving of him -

You sat on the floor by the bed, knees to your chest and head resting on them. You felt your eyes start to grow watery and quickly used your sleeve to wipe them away. Just incase Din came back. It would make him upset to see you cry, it always did. You didn't want to do that, the last time you had upset a partner -

Well, you ran away from them and ended up with a bounty on your head, and inevitably, here on the Razorcrest.

You were guilty for feeling like this. Din calls you beautiful all the time, why do you doubt yourself? If he says it and means it, then you should not worry as much as you do. But you do worry, you worry more than what you would like to admit.

You heard commotion outside of your bunk. Worried that it was the child somehow escaping his cradle and opening the door, you jumped up and into action to find the little monster. But, it was Din by the carbonite chamber instead, finished with the quarry.

"You're back." you said, wiping your eyes again before he turned around. "I thought you were the kid. Thank god you're not or that would mean - "

"What's wrong?" he asked, cutting you off. So he had noticed.

"N-n-nothing - " you stuttered, trying to cover your tracks. Unfortunately you never were good at lying, or convincing him that you were okay. He saw right through you every single time.

"You're lying. What's wrong, cyar'ika?" Damn him, he knew it melted your heart when he called you that. He took off both his gloves as he came over to you, taking both of his hands into yours.

"I just - when I was in the refresher - I looked at some of my scars - I was hoping they'd be faded but they just look the same to me - got me thinking - why do you - " you skipped the parts where you thought about doing bad things, things that you thought you were over. It didn't matter if you skipped them, because he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"They have faded. Was that it?" he asked. You shook your head. Din knew what the second half of your 'problem' was - you thought he deserved someone better than you. "What can I do to show that you're worthy?" he asked again.

"W-what?" you asked, trembling slightly. That shocked you a bit, you had never heard him say that before. Of course, it did show just how much he knew you because that was what was on your mind at the moment. But the fact that he was asking what he could do for you was something you were not expecting, when it should be the other way around, really.

You were silent for longer than you would like to admit, your mind moving a million miles a minute, thoughts racing through your mind. Din had an idea, an idea that he couldn't believe himself, that you were going to freak out over. Confirming that the child was asleep, and that the hatch to the ship was shut, he let go of your hands and took a deep breath in. His hands went to the base of his helmet.

"No - what - Din, stop - " you told him, closing your eyes and throwing your hands over them, for extra precaution. "I'm not - we're not - it shouldn't be me." you said to him in a rush.

He ignored you, continuing to take his helmet off, putting it on the ground beside him. Sure, you had been around him when he had his helmet off, blindfolded. You made him start doing that once you started sharing a bed just so he could get a break from it. But this was different - you were going to see him. It wasn't part of the Creed, he was breaking the rules for you - you weren't worth that. You weren’t his wife - it was against the rules. You weren’t worth that - but to him you were.

He edged himself closer to you, you could feel it. His hand cupped your cheek, the other wrapping around one of your wrists as he leaned in and kissed you. This was another thing that he knew you would melt into, you loved when he kissed you. Din Djarin knew you better than you knew yourself.

Slowly your hands dropped to his arms as his lips were pressed against yours. Truly, you weren’t thinking right now having taken your hands off your eyes, and neither was he. His helmet was off and he was letting you see him. His most vulnerable state - no one had seen him since he was a child he had told you. But yet here you two were.

“Cyar’ika, open your eyes.” His unfiltered voice said to you once his lips left yours, a small whine coming from you.

“But, the Creed - ” you started.

“I know.” he said to you. He had thought this through, for a moment at least. He knew what this meant - and he didn’t care. He wouldn’t mention it to anyone. To him, you were apart of his clan with the kid, unofficially. What the rest of the Mandalorians didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

It was time, you concluded with him. You slowly opened your eyes, looking down at the ground first. You took a deep breath.

“You’re really sure, Din? Like really?” you asked him one last time. He decided to skip the answer and gently tilt your head up to face him -

He was beautiful. Which sounds almost ridiculous, but truly, he was. You knew his hair was curly and brown - you knew it. He was tan, eyes dark brown. He was a little scruffy right now, not having shaved in two weeks from being out, of course. His hair was also matted for the same reason you figured. Why he would chose you to show himself to was beyond you.

“You are the first person to see me since I was a child.” he said to you, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. You nodded, about to speak when he continued. “We both have things we’re scared of showing. But I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you. You’ve seen me unmasked now, a Mandalorian’s vulnerable state. I never thought about taking it off before I met you. I just - I wanted you to see me. To show that I love you, more than anything.” Tears were brimming your eyes as he spoke, putting his arms around you and bringing you into his chest.

“I’m - I’m sorry. It’s just - well, you know.” you stuttered to him. He pulled you out of his chest and wiped your eyes. You swore you saw water forming in his eyes too but he kissed you before you could be sure.

“I do. That’s never gonna happen again. I promise.”

[softforcal]

Monte Carlo : Racecar driver!Cal

Summary: They've been going to the same bar for a while, but have never talked. Then, across the globe, they meet at a club. He's there for a formula one race, she's there as an Instagram promoter for The Grand Prix. Angst and slow-burn ensues.

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: some smut

Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, ft. Harry Styles

note: I started writing this when i first got into f1 so it's not 100% correct on how f1 operates but that's ok. Also I’m not from New York but i tried my best lol

Nascar stuff to watch if you want a full experience: Hot Lap, Champagne popping. 

****************

She’d met him in a bar.

It wasn't a southside bar. The carpets weren’t stained by booze, ashes from used cigarettes and various human fluids, whether that be blood or sweat or whatever else landed on the floor in a dodgy hole in the wall.

Yet, it wasn’t a North Side bar either. They didn’t have the most expensive bottles of whiskey, no ‘hints of aged oak’ or bottles boasting of being over a hundred years old.

No, it was a middle ground. People loitered outside, men in leather smoking with the bouncers. The women there wore strappy heels and weren’t afraid to kick them off to play a game of pool. It was perfect, and there was nowhere else Celeste would have rather been.

The charm of the bar wasn’t even really the bar itself, but a certain regular.

His arrival was always signaled by the scent that would rush into the bar when a bouncer opened the door for him. The stuff he smoked always seemed to smell different, the type of sweetness that was edged, the type of sweetness that told you not to get too close.

No one could help but look at him when he entered. He was beautiful, the type of guy who could afford to relax in a North Side bar where the extra cost for drinks bought you more discreet eyes.

He never seemed to mind the eyes though, and Celeste wasn’t surprised, after all, she supposed a racecar driver of his stature would be used to it by now.

She’d thought he was cute before the bartender had even mentioned that the gorgeous brunette was a famous race car driver. Celeste wasn’t the type to watch cars, whether they be NASCAR or formula one. Hell, she didn’t even know the difference between the two - didn’t particularly care.

Celeste could understand the man - she wasn’t sure of his name - she wasn’t too picky about being seen either. Both of them were young and alive, chasing dreams and becoming successful at an early age.

The driver must have been twenty-three or four, already a known winner. If Celeste could remember correctly, she thought she’d heard he was one of the drivers for Ferrari, which sounded prestigious.

Celeste was twenty-two and at the cusp of finding stardom in the world of modeling. She’d been discovered by a recruiter at aged sixteen and bounced around smaller brands before landing a gig with Victoria’s Secret. Although she’d yet to walk their runway, one of the designers had showed her picture to a friend and just like that, Celeste had become the muse for one of the biggest fashion brands in North America.

She supposed she was lucky, blessed really, to have been in the mall the day the recruiter discovered her.

And likewise, she supposed the driver was fortunate to have been introduced to driving at a young age.

So there the two of them were, two young stars shortening the vicinity between themselves every Friday night or so. Close but not touching, never meeting.

Later in her life, Celeste would wonder if it was odd for the other patrons who frequented the bar. If it was odd for them to be minding their own business and have not one, but two, semi-famous people just decide ‘this is my chosen bar.’ But in those moments when Celeste accepted a challenge in pool, playing against other drunk university girls, Celeste was just one of the people who’d found a little slice of home in a midtown bar.

***

Calum swirled the whiskey in his glass, taking a deep breath and turning so his back was leaning against the bar top. His eyes found her immediately. She was the type of girl that stood out. Even if he hadn’t been told by his favourite bartender that the girl was a model, he could have guessed.

It was hard to tear his gaze from her as she bent over the pool table to line up a shot. Her little jean shorts hugged her ass perfectly, and the way her thighs were pressed against the table made Calum lick his lips. She wasn't a typical model, or at least didn’t have the thinner body type. She was what his friends would call slim thicc, and Calum ate it up every time she entered the bar.

The girls she was playing with were obviously university students from the school down the road. Calum had seen them once or twice, they liked to get drunk and play pool. They were also obviously fans of the model, and to the models credit, she was very kind to them any time they approached her.

“You should go talk to her.” the bartender suggested, “two pretty people like you, it makes sense.”

Calum smirked against the rim of his glass, humming absentmindedly, “does it?”

“You should do it soon, you know everyone’s been taking bets on when you end up talking to her, who approaches who.”

“Really?” Calum turned to look at the bartender.

“No, but it’s a good idea, maybe I should start that up.” he paused, “come on man, you’re a regular, she’s a regular. You’ve both been coming in for what? Six months now? Most Fridays? Except for when you’re off in Italy or Mexico or wherever, winning trophies and she’s doing modeling gigs. The two of you would make sense together.”

Calum shot the last mouthful of whiskey, setting the glass down, “no we wouldn’t.”  he stated, tossing a bill onto the counter. He didn’t look up at the bartender, instead, he grabbed his leather jacket that had been thrown over a bar chair and shrugged it on. It was warm and worn, and Calum produced a joint from inside one of the pockets, tucking it behind his ear and amongst his dark curls. His trusty lighter was in his hand by the time he was pushing the door open to escape the bar.

The cold air wrapped around him and Calum’s nimble fingers moved the joint from behind his ear to his lips, the lighter flicking on. He took a long drag and his eyes closed, the warm feeling wrapping around him pleasantly.

He knew he was being a pussy.

Knew that sixth months was six months too many for him to be in the same vicinity of a girl like that and not make a move. Calum liked to take his time with women, which is why he enjoyed going to the bar alone.

His friends didn’t get it. They were all about driving fast, living fast and fucking fast.

Calum would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy speed, he was a fucking racecar driver for Christ’s sake. One of the fastest in the world, if his last race was anything to go by.

But when it came to women? Well with women, Calum liked to go slow.

Besides, he was only going away for a week, maybe a little more. She’d be there when he got back.

***

The pop of the champagne bottle announced the spray of liquor that began to stream over Calum and his friends. Ashton was pointing his bottle towards the crowd and fans screamed up at them, allowing the expensive liquid to drench them as the drivers celebrated.

Calum’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and two of his friends held his head back as Ashton poured booze into his mouth. He was getting used to this treatment, they were only four events into the year but this was Calum’s third win. He was going to drink a little, but he was saving his energy for the next race, it mattered more to him anyways.

The Monaco Grand Prix held a special place in Calum’s heart and he could hardly wait for the week and a half for it to start.

Champagne dripped down the front of his red jumpsuit and Calum shoved his friends away, heart pumping fast. It only ever beat this way when he won first place, something that was happening with more and more frequency.

The air was still tinged with red from the gusts of coloured smoke that had been released as he’d crossed the finish line.

For a moment something else flashed red across his vision, a shirt the model had been wearing the week before. She must have not had any idea when she’d chosen that colour that it had a deeper meaning for Calum. It was the colour of Ferrari, his colour, a colour that always sparked his heart with fire, the colour that promised a race, promised the elevation into paradise that came with a win.

One of his friends grabbing his jumpsuit drew Calum’s attention, and the image of the girl was gone.

***

Celeste lounged in her chair, celebrating a successful shoot with a slice of pizza. As she bit into the cheesy goodness, her makeup artist sat next to her, “you have to see this.” she said, moving her phone where Celeste could see, “it’s from the race practice today.”

“And it’s Formula one right?” Celeste clarified. She felt bad, knowing that she should logically know more about the cars. After all, she was in Monte Carlo for the Monaco Grand Prix. The brand who hired her to be their correspondent for the paid promotion trip had known Celeste had no background with motorsports, so they had a journalist creating her captions for all of her paid posts. But Celeste still felt bad.

“Yeah this is formula one, you can tell because the cars are thinner remember? just watch this.” the girl said with excitement. Celeste focused on the screen, watching as a red car sped down a track, “oh my god, how fast is he going?”

“Fast.” the girl breathed.

There were two cars, a red and a blue. The red tried to skim past the blue and sent them both spiraling out, the blue coming to stand still as the driver got their bearing, however, the red car hadn’t even stopped spinning before it was off again, speed gaining to catch the car that had taken the lead from him during those brief seconds of collision.

The camera angle switched to the camera attached to the red car and even at massively high speeds, the driver was fixing their mirror that had been damaged in the collision, and driving with only one hand.

One more harsh turn had red overtake the other red that had been in the lead.

The clip cut off.

“Did he win?” Celeste asked.

“He did, but this was just a practice, we still have qualifiers and the actual race.” her artist said, “fuck, Hood is insane, I’ve never seen a driver recover from a bump so quick.”

“I’m shocked the bump didn’t have them both like, flipping or something.” Celeste said, “every time I think about race cars I think about how deadly the crashes look.”

“Just be glad you’re not dating a driver.” her artist said.

Celeste laughed, “thank god.”

***

Celeste had been busy most of the day, but she’d heard the notorious Hood had won yet again, not that it was a surprise, apparently. People on the streets were talking about him, his name whispered over and over again everywhere Celeste went to take pictures.

The other model she was with had done the Monte Carlo coverage for the brand the year before, she’d chosen a club and said that it was the place to be the night of the qualifiers and especially the next night after the final.

It was easy enough to get onto the list for the exclusive club, and the fellow model, a girl named Alexa, warned Celeste not to sleep with any of the drivers, “they’re pigs.” Alexa said as they got out of the limo, “only good for pictures and tags but other than that? They talk a big game about liking it fast but these men don’t have stamina for shit.”

Celeste laughed, following Alexa up past the security who didn’t even ask if they were on the list. Alexa and Celeste where the types of girls who surpassed lists, if a straight man ever tried to refuse them entrance to a club, it would surely mark a coming apocalypse and pigs would be flying.

The VIP section of club was alive with people, full of the rich elite, the type of people who flew out to Monte Carlo with the pure intent of watching Formula One racing. Celeste decided, as she walked amongst people with pearls and diamonds adorning their bodies, that Formula One was an expensive sport. Alexa had mentioned early in the day, as the two of them absentmindedly waited for the cars to zoom past where they were sitting in the crowd, that some Formula One cars could cost around fifteen and a half million dollars to make.

Celeste had nearly fallen out of her seat at the number, and her mouth had gone dry as her eyes went to the track, watching the expensive cars who could at any moment flip and waste so much money.

The thought of cars crashing was swept from Celeste’s mind as she was dragged by Alexa through the crowd of people. The racers weren’t hard to spot. They were all decked out in sponsored caps and casual outfits. The only people in the room who didn’t feel like they needed to dress up, because they didn’t. Every rich person in the room was there for them, the racers had all the power, all eyes on them.

Some were surprisingly young looking, and many of them were smaller than Celeste expected. “Why are they so tiny?” Celeste whispered, stopping Alexa in her tracks as Celeste looked at the racers.

“The more weight that’s in the car, the slower it goes, smaller is better… for once.” Alexa teased, “come on.”

Then they were in the midst of the racers, Alexa hugging a man she fondly called Ash. He was a bit bigger than the others, but still not up to Celeste’s standards. Her eyes wandered, a smile on her face flashed to anyone Alexa introduced her too.

A song came on and Celeste’s hand tightened around Alexa’s, “oh my gosh, this is my song!” Celeste said, looking at her with pleading eyes, “come dance with me?”

“You go ahead, I have to catch up with some friends.” Alexa said.

Celeste didn’t need to be told twice, letting go of her friend to escape to the dancefloor. It was out of the way of the VIP section, filled with a younger crowd that Celeste felt akin to. She meshed in, lost within the swarm of dancing people. The song was new, by an artist she’d followed since his boyband years. His new music was rich and fun, the artist making a true name for himself as a rockstar.

Her hips swayed to the music, the beautiful metallic sheer dress hugging all her curves as she smiled and danced with the people who made room for her. She’d never had issues fitting in, least of all on a dancefloor.

When the song finished, she continued to dance, even though the next songs weren’t her favourites. She was just beginning to sweat when a hand grabbed hers, Alexa pulling her roughly, “Celeste come with me now!”

By the time they’d exited the crowd, it was obvious where Celeste was taking her. Standing in the VIP section, surrounded by racers, looking as handsome as ever, was Harry Styles, the very artist that Celeste had swooned over when his song had come on.

Her heart froze in her chest and she stopped in her tracks, pulled harshly again by Alexa, “come on!” Alexa said, “you have to meet him!”

***

Calum was becoming an expert in the art of opening and spraying champagne. He’d won the Monaco Grand Prix, taking the first spot like he was entitled to it, and keeping it until he’d crossed the finish line. His entire body was on fire, heart racing in his chest.

Ashton stood next to him, he’d finished third, which was also impressive. It was obvious that they’d be celebrating that night, after the interviews. Calum was excited about the night ahead, he’d always found Monte Carlo to be a dreamlike city, wonderous and in a way romantic.

He wasn’t sure what would happen that night, but if it was anything like his triumphant day, he knew it would be amazing. Nothing could pull him away from his post win high, and he was sure of that.

***

It was her.

Calum blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. No, it was her. The girl from the bar. The influencer who’d weaseled her way into his brain without even knowing it, was there, a few yards away. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, but it was still full.

Calum recognized the girl next to his influencer, a model named Alexa. He’d met her at a few of his races, she was a brand endorser for a number of the same brands Calum worked for. He knew he was on her Instagram, tagged a few times, pictures of the two of them standing next to each other, her smile much larger than his. Alexa was a nice girl, he enjoyed her, but Calum generally tried to stay away from models, he wasn’t quite sure why.

Alexa spotted him a moment later, her eyes widening as she motioned him over, opening her arms to pull him into a tight hug, “I can't believe you won!” she screamed, “that’s what? Your third race in a row? What’s your secret Hood?!”

Calum’s eyes darted between Alexa and the influencer next to her, still not introduced, waiting politely for his answer.

“Uh-” Calum wracked his brain for a witty response but nothing came, “who’s your friend?”

Alexa didn’t even seem to mind that he hadn’t answered her question, “this is Celeste.” she said.

Celeste held out a hand, “nice to meet you-”

“Calum.”

“Calum.” she repeated his name, a silly smile on her face. The name tasted sweet on her tongue, “I think… have we met before?” she tried to play it cool, but she knew exactly where she’d seen him. This was the mystery hunk who frequented her bar back in New York.

For months she’d been trying to work up the courage to go talk to him, and now there he was, halfway across the world in a club that was too loud, a new title added to his impressive resume.

Calum nodded, “we go to the same bar in New York.” he didn’t even bother dancing around the idea of where they knew each other from.

Celeste’s heart leaped in her chest.

“You two know each other?” Alexa asked in shock.

“Not really-” Celeste began as Calum said “no.” they both stopped, waiting for the other to continue. Both of them blushed, Calum readjusting his guinness cap on his head.

A man with honey coloured curls appeared, arm going around Calum as he greeted Alexa, “who’s your friend?” Ashton asked.

“Celeste.” Celeste answered, holding out her hand to him.

Calum watched every movement, loving every motion.

“I’m Ashton,” the man said, turning to Alexa, “you need a drink.” he stated, grabbing Alexa’s hand.

“Only if you’re buying.” Alexa teased, allowing Ashton to pull her towards the bar, leaving Calum alone with Celeste.

“So you won today!” Celeste said enthusiastically, “that must be so great for you!”

Calum could see her struggling with her words, “you don’t watch F1 much do you?”

“F1?”

“Formula One.” Calum corrected himself with a laugh.

“No, I don't.” Celeste admitted awkwardly, “fast cars aren’t really my thing.”

“Really?” Calum asked in shock, she looked like the kind of girl who would own a luxury car, but maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

“Yeah, I don't know, fast cars, crashes, guess I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat.” Celeste laughed, sipping her champagne.

“I could take you for a drive.” Calum stated, the words left his mouth before he could stop them, “I mean, my Ferrari is down at the track-”

“I’d have to be really drunk to agree to that.” Celeste laughed, the tone of it twinkling deliciously and making Calum smile.

“Then, cheers.” Calum clinked his beer with Celeste’s champagne glass.

“To F1.” Celeste said, already incorporating the new term Calum had taught her.

Calum smiled at her, “To fast cars, crashes and scaredy cats.”

***

“We are not doing this.” Celeste said, even as she got into the car. Calum closed the door behind her, hurrying to his own side to get into the driver's seat, “Calum, your seatbelt is straight out of bondage porno.”

“Watch a lot of those?” Calum laughed, his skin heating as he turned to look at the model who was holding the harness like a seatbelt.

“Calum!” Celeste said loudly again, jaw-dropping as she looked at him, “no!”

Calum grinned, reaching over to help her put the seatbelt on. He hadn’t pushed her to drink more, Celeste had done that on her own. She’d said after a few sips of champagne that ‘it wasn’t every day a formula one racer offered to take a gal out for a drive’ and had downed her glass. Seeing she was serious, Calum had put down his beer, having only had a sip of it.

He was completely sober, unlike the girl next to him. She was a bubbly drunk, much like the champagne that had caused her to be this way.

Calum grabbed the two safety helmets from the back of the car, handing one to Celeste. She looked at it like it was about to bite her, “what?!”

“For safety.” Calum said, putting it on her himself before putting on his own.

“How fast are we going to go?” Celeste asked.

“As fast as you want.” Calum said, putting on his own seatbelt before looking out at the track. He didn’t want to tell her that he would go over 200 km/h on straights, he knew he was being devious but he didn’t care so much.

He’d done this before, never with a model, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to show up and go for a celebratory lap of the track the night after a win. He’d even left his car on the track, having always planned on coming and doing this. Security was always nice to him, partly, he supposed, because he was a winner, but also partly because he was a nice guy.

“Fast.” Celeste whispered, then she looked at him, “wait, not super fast,” she said, then she frowned, “no, fast? Maybe?”

Calum laughed, “I'll just start, and if you want me to go slower, I can, yeah?”

“Okay.” Celeste said, her eyes lingering on the racer's profile, “pretty.” she mumbled, so quietly that Calum almost didn’t hear her. He felt his skin heating, could feel his ears turning red as the car roared to life, the engine purring.

“Fuck.” Celeste said, grabbing at the car door.

Calum laughed, turning to look at her, “we haven’t even moved yet.”

“What if I don't want to anymore?”

Calum took his foot off the brake and the car rolled about two feet, making Celeste grip the door tighter.

“We can stop.” Calum said, easing off the brake again to move another few feet.

Celeste took a deep breath, then turned to look at him, “Murder me.” she stated.

Calum’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked, taking a moment before he realized she meant that he should drive so fast she’ll metaphorically die. He swallowed thickly. “You got it.” he said, voice hoarse.

“Have you ever taken someone out on something like this before?” Celeste asked, suddenly sounding quite sober.

“We call them hot laps.” Calum stated, “I've taken a few athletes out on some, done some drifting, some donuts-”

“Can we do some donuts? I love donuts.” Celeste said as Calum pulled onto the track.

“Sure.” Calum looked at her, “do you trust me?”

Celeste wet her lips, “no?”

The first part of the track was straight and Calum’s foot went all the way down on the gas pedal. Celeste squealed, thrown back into her seat as Calum grinned. They reached 230 km/h quickly and Celeste screamed as she saw the first turn coming into view.

She didn’t tell him to slow down, which Calum appreciated as he adjusted the car for the turn, hitting the apex (the inner corner) perfectly as Celeste squealed next to him. Calum couldn’t help but smile, pushing the car faster again as he came out of the corner.

He knew this track like the back of his hand. Knew it was 3.4 kilometers, nineteen harsh corners that would have him breaking for around 20% of the drive, giving him ample reason to drift just to make Celeste scream. Fuck. He loved it.

There was no one watching, just him and Celeste, and she obviously knew nothing about racing. Which meant he could get away with doing things that had them both thrown around the car, just for the hell of it.

It was the type of track where he couldn’t go as fast as he wanted, he wanted to be able to show Celeste how fast a car could go.

The sharp turns were coming up and Calum was ready for Celeste’s loud scream as the tires skidded across asphalt, he wasn’t ready for her hand landing on his thigh, holding on tightly.

He held the record for fastest lap in the world at this track, having completed it in 1 minute and 13.60 seconds, almost a full second faster than anyone else in the world. In the car he was in now, it would take longer, but driving always seemed fast to him.

He was focused behind the wheel, moving it expertly, taking each turn as Celeste screamed next to him, never letting go of his leg.

To Celeste, the ride felt like eons, every turn threw her to the side, her eyes unable to keep a track of the road in front of them. She simply had to hold on and enjoy it. Part of her did. Perhaps it was her drunken state, but she wasn’t really that afraid. She trusted the man next to her, even if she didn’t understand why.

The car skidded to a halt and just as Celeste thought it was over, Calum lurched the wheel to the side and threw Celeste to the left, as she squealed. The car continued to go in tight circles, a harsh weight pulling on Celeste as she screamed, eyes closed, mind dizzy.

The car stopped and Celeste took a moment to open her eyes, blinking at Calum.

“That was a donut.” he told her.

“Thank you.” Celeste whispered.

Calum laughed, then his eyes darted down to her hand on his thigh, she followed his gaze, offering him a lazy smile, “you have nice thighs.”

“You do too.” Calum said, voice hoarse. It was true. She’s what Calum’s friends would call “thiccer than a sniccer” and it had not escaped his notice.

“Do I?” Celeste asked, removing her hand from Calum to look down at her lap, “you don’t think they’re too big?”

“No.” Calum said honestly, following her eyes now as he looked at her legs. He swallowed thickly, tearing his gaze away, “where are you staying?”

“I forget what it’s called.” Celeste said, a happy smile on her face, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Calum’s mind was blank for a moment. He wasn’t sure what she was asking for. He wasn’t about to take advantage of her, no matter how badly he wanted her thighs wrapped around his head- “uh- sure.”

“Sleep over!” Celeste squealed, “we have to order pizza!”

“I don’t eat pizza.” Calum said as he took off his helmet, reaching over to help Celeste take off hers.

“What?! Why not?!” Celeste pouted, looking very concerned.

“Racecar drivers are supposed to be small, less weight means a faster car-”

“But you’re so big and tall.” Celeste smiled.

“Yeah,” Calum laughed, “so i try not to eat much, don’t want to gain any more weight than I already have, I'm a lot taller than most drivers.”

“That must mean you’re really good.”

Calum smiled, setting the helmets in the back of the car then going to unbuckle Celeste. He stayed quiet, too humble to tell her that she was right.

Celeste turned to look out the window, opening the door once she’d been released from the seatbelt. By the time Calum had gone to join her on the other side of the car she was laying on the ground, “the stars are so pretty.” she mused.

Calum sighed. At the start of his day, he’d expected maybe winning the race. He hadn’t expected to bump into the model he’d been lusting over for months from New York, in a club in Monte Carlo, only to drive her around then lay on the track and look at the stars with her.

Calum got down next to her, his shoulder just touching hers, “the stars are pretty nice.”

“For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” Celeste breathed, “Van Gogh. I'm really tired Calum, can you take me home?”

He couldn’t take her home, not really. All they had was his hotel room. But perhaps it wasn’t bricks and mortar that made something a home, perhaps it was something else. Something not solid, not something you could hold in your hands. Maybe it was a feeling.

He wondered what could be home.

***

Celeste blinked, sitting up in a bed that was not her own. The first thing she noticed was the wall of pillows to her left. Curled up in the pillows was a head of dark curls and Celeste recognized Calum. His back was to her, a redshirt covering his broad shoulders. Even in bed, he wore Ferrari’s colours, it was intriguing.

Calum was awake, and when the bed dipped, he knew Celeste was as well. He rolled over and sat up, looking at her, “how are you feeling?” he asked.

“My head hurts a little,” she admitted, “you took me racing last night?”

“I took you on the track.” Calum said.

She blinked at him, “I remember screaming a lot.”

A smile spread across Calum’s face, “yeah, I think you enjoyed it.”

“I think I remember enjoying it.”

Calum got out of the bed, “I'm going to go get you breakfast, waffles and donuts right?”

“How did you know my cheat meal?”

“You were ranting about it last night, wanted to go find a diner to make you some fried chicken and waffles.” Calum answered, leaning against the doorway, “I don't think they’ll have the deep-fried chicken, but they have waffles, and donuts, sprinkles right?”

“Did I tell you all of my favourite foods last night?” Celeste laughed.

“Nah,” Calum smiled, “just your top hundred.” he teased, “I'll be back soon.”

Celeste looked down, realizing she was also in a Ferrari shirt. It was Calum’s, the red of it more worn and comfy looking than the shirt Calum had been wearing. It was large on her and when she got out of bed it went just to her upper thighs. The fabric was not made for a woman, not made to curve over a large bum, as Celeste turned to look at herself in the mirror next to the bed, her eyes took in the way the shirt teased. Every movement had it riding a little bit higher, sneaking a sliver of bodaciousness that she was known for.

Her hair was still wavy from it’s styling the night before but all of her makeup was gone.

She had some sort of memory of Calum wiping a warm cloth over her face.

Yes, now she remembered. He’d brought her to the hotel and had insisted on cleaning her up before letting her pass out. He’d wiped the makeup from her face gently while she ranted about food. She missed American food, missed the diner in New York that she went to every Sunday morning for deep-fried chicken and waffles.

The door to the room opened and Calum stepped in, a box full of food in his hands. He set it down on the tabletop next to Celeste’s side of the bed, then he began rearranging the pillows, straightening out the blanket.

“Thanks for the breakfast.” Celeste said, picking up a waffle.

“Don’t mention it.”

“So… are you headed back to New York soon?” she asked.

“There’s another race in under two weeks, I think a lot of us are going to stay here, and then head to Canada together, France after that-”

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you raced in so many countries.”

“This is round six, there’s twenty-one in total, so that’s still fifteen to go.” Calum said, not looking up at her.

“Fifteen more races? Fifteen more countries?” Celeste asked in shock.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Celeste chewed on her waffle.

Calum looked down at his watch.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Celeste asked.

“Yeah, I have to go do training, then meet up with my team and talk about the race yesterday.”

“You’re a busy guy.”

Calum offered her a smile, “sorry I can’t stay longer and have breakfast with you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you going back to New York soon?” Calum asked.

“Uh…” Celeste’s mouth was dry, “I'm not sure yet.”  her skin was prickling. She’d almost forgotten about the charming brit she’d met two nights before. The brit she’d gone home with. The brit she was meeting up with in- “fuck, I have to go-”

Calum laughed, “got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah a date,” Celeste answered, shoving the waffle in her mouth, “I need to give you your shirt back-” she said around the waffle.

Calum’s expression had changed, but Celeste hadn’t noticed, too busy looking around for her stuff, “Keep it.” Calum said, “You can give it back to me in New York.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have a lot of Ferrari shirts.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

Celeste grabbed her small clutch purse, finding her shirt and skirt on the ground. She pulled the skirt up her legs, the stretchy material hugging her curves as she did a french tuck with the front of her shirt, “Calum, thank you so much for last night, for everything.” she said sincerely, turning to look at the driver.

“Don’t mention it.”

She stepped towards him and wrapped him in a hug. After a moment of hesitation, Calum hugged her back.

“I’ll see you in New York.” she promised as she pulled away, “we’ll have to meet up at the bar or something.”

Calum smiled, but it was forced, “sounds fun.”

“It will be.” Celeste ran to the door, “good luck with everything! Congrats again on your win yesterday.”

“Thanks. Get home safe.”

“I will.”

Then she was gone.

The twelve hours he’d had with her felt like borrowed time. As if he’d somehow stolen those hours from whatever god or being had kept the two of them apart for so long. And now she was gone. Calum felt like Cinderella at midnight, except it was nine AM and he wasn’t a princess in a Disney movie.

He was a formula one driver with a job to do. And he wasn’t about to let a pretty brunette get in the way of his work, even if she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.

****

They’d followed each other that day, the notification lighting up Calum’s phone. The first of many pleasant phone buzzes signaling a message from the model. She’d posted a picture of chicken waffles on her story her first day back in New York and Calum hadn’t been able to resist the urge to message her about it, congratulating her on finally quenching her craving.

Conversation with her was easy. Two weeks into casually talking, she’d sent him a meme about friends, saying ‘us.’ it hadn’t thrown Calum off, he considered her a friend too. After all, the best relationships start with friendship, something Calum had learned after many failed attempts at love.

Celeste even congratulated Calum on winning second in the race in Canada and it had shocked him that she’d watched it. “What are friends for?” she’d messaged back, warming Calum’s whole body.

Their friendship reached a new height when she asked for his snapchat, and thus began the great dog snap challenge. Anytime either of them saw a dog, they’d take a picture and send it to the other.

Calum was busy with work. Ferrari was ramping things up, and Calum had his head in the game. Because of this, he didn’t have time to go home, even though he wanted to. Which was why he was so excited when Celeste messaged him to tell him she’d be in England when he was there for Round Ten of the championship.

Calum didn't ask too many questions, too excited to see her.

It was an hour before Celeste’s flight to England, and Calum wondered if he should message her. He finally gave in, it was late for him and he knew if he didn’t message her, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Before he could text her, his phone rang.

He’d had Celeste’s number since they’d met, 45 days ago, not that he was counting, and they’d never called each other.

“Calum! I’m not waking you am i?” Celeste’s voice was worried.

“No, what’s up?”

“Is it okay that I called you?”

“It’s fine, you sound worried.” Calum sat down, eager to give her his full attention.

“Have I ever told you I'm not into flying?” Celeste asked.

Calum chuckled, “no, you never mentioned it.”

“Well, I am, and I don’t know why this is freaking me out so much.”

“I mean, it is a long flight, maybe that’s why?” Calum paused, “you’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Are you my captain Calum?” Celeste asked sarcastically.

“No, but you’ll be fine.” he paused, “hey, when you get here, do you need me to pick you up?”

“No thanks! Harry’s picking me up.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

Calum opened his mouth, then closed it, he wasn’t sure what to say, “I didn't know you were seeing him?” he offered.

“It’s funny, I met him the night before I met you. He actually has been coming to visit me in New York, so I figured it’s my turn to head out to him, and when I saw it would line up with you being there i had to come.”

Calum’s skin was cold. He’d thought she was coming to see him, but as it turned out, he was only fifty percent of the reason. Was he even fifty percent?

“But I’m coming to your race!” Celeste continued, “the training ones and the final one.”

Her terms weren’t correct but Calum couldn’t be bothered to correct her. “Is Harry coming with you too?” Calum asked.

“Yeah, he’ll be around, but I do really want to see you Cal.” there was a muffled sound, then, “they’re boarding so I gotta go. Talking to you really helped Cal. I’ll see you soon! I’m so excited!”

“Me too.” Calum forced out.

“Awesome! Love ya! Bye!”

Calum’s mouth felt dry, his body still frozen, but he managed to say “bye.” then the line clicked and Celeste was gone, but had she ever really been there?

***

He was late. Something that never happened, but he’d been late with Celeste. They’d gone out for drinks her second night England and had stayed up talking and ordering room service until three AM. Calum had lost track of time, another thing he’d never really experienced.

Shoving his legs into his race suit and pulling it up, he ran past a few mechanics, eager to get on the track. He’d had a call early that morning that some rich person had paid a lot of money to have a hot lap with him.

It seemed to be the day of things that had never happened to Calum.

He usually didn’t do hot laps, and Ferrari knew that. There was, allegedly, something special about the person who’d requested him, but that morning, half asleep when his phone rang, Calum had been too tired to ask.

Calum was used to camera’s being shoved in his face and he pushed through them, approaching the signature red car that he’d be using.

“Calum, what’s it like driving one of the most famous British singers in the world?” a reporter asked.

Calum looked up, for the first time getting a glimpse at who he’d be driving around.

Harry Styles looked as Calum always supposed he would. His hair was perfect, and the black jacket he was wearing made him look like he’d come straight out of an Abercrombie and fitch magazine. Or perhaps another magazine, Calum didn’t keep up with fashion.

Then came the dimples.

Calum could have thrown up.

“You must be Calum!” Harry exclaimed, holding out a hand and offering a smile.

Calum shook his hand, hard, not smiling, not saying anything.

Then he remembered the cameras. Remembered that this was his job. Remembered that as the top f1 driver, driving a man with a huge fanbase, the video would probably go viral. Calum forced a smile, “nice to meet you.” he said politely.

“So let's get to it yeah?” Harry asked, his British accent way too charming.

Calum nodded, going around the car to escape the paparazzi. He put his helmet on and took some joy in the fact that Harry would have to do the same, and maybe it would ruin his hair.

There were cameras in the car.

Calum wondered what would happen next.

“Excited for your race, mate.” Harry said, buckling himself in, “you’ve always been the one to watch.”

“Didn’t know you were a big formula one fan.” Calum mused, the engine roaring to life.

“I wasn’t.” Harry admitted, “we have a mutual friend, she got me into it.”

Calum wondered how far Harry would go. After all, there were cameras in the car, and Calum had heard about Harry and his tendency to stay elusive.

That’s when he realized it was serious. The thing between Harry and Celeste.

Harry had spent a lot of money to be in the car with Calum. He was facing the cameras, despite his desire to mostly not produce content.

And he was talking about Celeste.

Calum’s foot stepped onto the petal and the car lurched forward. He hoped that Harry wouldn’t talk anymore. Hoped it would be a quiet ride.

“How did you two meet again?”

“What?”

“Our mutual friend.”

Calum wished he’d just say her name. But he understood why Harry was being aloof. Understood it protected Celeste from being prematurely exposed to his fan base, for better or for worse.

Calum respected it.

“Met in Monaco. She mentioned it was the day after she met you.” Calum said, making a point to mention Harry. He supposed it would ease Harry’s mind, knowing Celeste had mentioned him… even if it had only been a few days earlier. Calum pushed the car faster and then braked hard for a corner, throwing Harry to the side.

“That was a good race by the way.” Harry said, “You came in first, congratulations.”

“I like Monaco.” Calum said, “it’s a special place.”

“It is.” Harry agreed. Calum couldn’t be sure, but Harry seemed satisfied with their interaction. Calum wasn’t sure what he expected, after all, it’s not like the guy was going to come out and be aggressive with him… even if that’s what Calum might have done in his position.

The rest of the drive went smoothly, with Harry complimenting Calum’s driving and even letting out happy hollers at sharp turns.

As the car came to a stop, Harry turned to shake Calum’s hand, “maybe I'll see you tonight.” Harry offered.

“Maybe.” no way in hell.

One last smile and the gorgeous man was gone, out of Calum’s car and hopefully his life.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out?”

“Yeah, I need sleep tonight, the race is tomorrow-”

“Did… I- Harry told me about this morning, said he was eager to meet you, did you like him?”

“He’s fine, I’m just tired.” Calum lied.

Celeste was silent on the other end of the line for a moment, “but tomorrow night, we’re still on, right?”

When she’d first arrived and they’d gotten drinks, Calum had promised to do the same thing after the race. But when he’d promised he’d assumed it would be just the two of them. Calum didn't want to go anymore, “yeah.” he said.

“Okay, because I had a lot of fun last night Cal. Anyways, have a good night, get some sleep, you’re going to be great tomorrow.”

“You promise?” Calum asked.

“I’m your captain, I definitely promise.” Celeste laughed, the sound was magic, “love ya Cal! Talk tomorrow!”

“Love you too.”

He hung up.

***

Celeste’s arms wrapped around him and when Calum lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, “you did it!” she screamed in his ear, a little too loud, but he didn’t care.

He set her down and Celeste pulled way, keeping him close as she looked up at him, “that was amazing Calum!”

“It was nothing-” Calum brushed it off, looking down. He could be cocky about his driving, but not with her. With Celeste, his heart always seemed to swell.

“Calum, you hit every single apex!” Celeste said and Calum’s heart fluttered even more.

She’d learned a term used in F1.

He didn’t even know what to say so he just looked down at her, unable to stop smiling.

“Harry’s not coming, by the way, he had to go back to London for work.” Celeste said, finally pulling away from Calum, “so it’s just us tonight!”

Calum let out a breath, smile widening, “so where are we headed?”

He didn't care that other drivers were probably going to celebrate at a specific location. He only cared about taking every moment with Celeste…. As friends of course.

Of course….

Who was he kidding, Calum knew he was walking a fine line. Part of him wondered what would happen when she came to England… before he’d found out about Harry. And although those ideas were no use anymore, he’d be damned if he didn’t still take advantage of their time together.

“Let's get drinks?” Celeste suggested.

Calum smiled, “sounds perfect.”

***

Calum stared up at the ceiling and Celeste rolled onto her side to look at him. Calum smiled, turning to look at her too, “what?”

“I’m just…” Celeste studied him, “I haven't really had any guy friends before. All the guys I know try to be my friend just to get me in bed. And we’re here and you’re not trying anything.”

Calum coughed awkwardly, sitting up, “well, you’re seeing Harry.”

Celeste rolled onto her back, hair fanning over the pillow, “yeah.”

“How is that going? You didn’t talk much about him last time we hung out.” it was true. They’d been together for hours and Celeste hadn’t mentioned him once.

Celeste took a deep breath, “I really like him. I think. I don’t know. When I was a teenager and he was in One Direction he was huge. And, like every other teenage girl on earth, I was definitely a fan of his. Being with him feels… well, it’s odd. He’s a great guy but I almost feel like I enjoy the grandeur of him. I enjoy the Harry that I know from social media…” there was a pause, then, “fuck, this is why I’m trying not to get drunk anymore. I always want to talk about philosophy and end up confusing myself even more. Forget I said anything, I’m being stupid.”

Calum looked at her, watching the way her chest rose and fell. Her eyes were closed. She was frowning.

It was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her.

Calum laid down next to her, “I'm sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll probably just do what I always do, stick with it until something really bad happens, then run away.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.” Calum stated.

Celeste smiled, “Never said it was.” she yawned, “can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure… do you need me to build a pillow wall like last time?” Calum teased.

“For your protection or mine?” Celeste flirted, but Calum knew it was just for the sake of teasing, her expression changed, “why did you have to make a pillow fort last time?”

“You asked for one.”

“So you just built me one?”

“Of course.”

“You’re really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?” Celeste asked, pulling the covers over her body.

“No.”

“Well, people should tell you you’re sweet more often.” Celeste’s eyes were closed and from the wispy tone of her voice, Calum knew she was about three seconds from falling asleep.

“Goodnight Celeste.”

“Goodnight Cal.”

***

Calum stared at the deep-fried chicken on top of waffles. Celeste looked like a kid in a candy shop and Calum was shocked she’d even found a place that served her favourite breakfast. She looked adorable, having stolen one of his Ferrari hats and a shirt.

It was big on her, but he loved it.

“Cal, can you take a pic of me and my waffles?” Celeste asked, handing him her phone.

“Sure.” he said, adjusting the camera as Celeste made a face, tongue out, fingers up in peace signs.

He took a few pictures, smiling down at them before he handed the phone back.

“Do you mind if I tag you?” Celeste asked, “I mean, I am the new Ferrari spokesperson after all.” she joked, flipping the hat so it was backwards.

“Sure.”

He watched her. She was so focused on making the post, it was her job after all.

Calum wondered if Harry would mind that she was tagging him. But… as was plainly obvious, he was just Celeste’s friend.

Sitting there, across from the gorgeous model, Calum decided he’d be just that: a friend. He’d be there for her always, or as long as she wanted him around. He’d take her out for waffles and make blanket forts and support her, even if it meant supporting her with another man.

He’d be whatever she needed him to be. And if that was simply a friend, so be it.

***

“Can you believe you’re almost done the world championship?” Celeste asked.

Calum smiled. It had been five months since they’d met. This championship had felt particularly long for some reason, “miss me already?” Calum teased.

He’d been coming back to New York on his time off as much as he could. He was living for the nights he and Celeste spent at the bar they should have met in. The bar that, if he’d had the balls, could have been where they’d met months before. Could have been where they had their first date-

“Of course I do Cal!” Celeste said, “fuck, I wanted to tell you once you got here, but, I can’t hold it in anymore!”

Calum’s skin felt cold and anxiety overcame it. She’d been getting more and more excited about Harry and any time she had news, Calum was scared what it would be.

“Harry and I are getting married.”

Calum’s mouth was dry, when he opened his mouth to speak it hurt and he had to swallow thickly, giving him the time to think, “congratulations.”

“You’ll come right?”

“When is it?” Calum asked, worried by the eagerness in her voice.

Celeste and Harry had just come out as a couple a month earlier, when he’d taken her to an event. Calum hadn’t looked at the pictures but Celeste had sent him snaps of her dress before she went, and Calum had been so upset he’d gone to a gym to punch things.

“Harry wants it soon, weird right? I didn’t think he was the marriage type.”

Calum bit his tongue. He’d never brought up the night in England when Celeste had told him she worried about why she was with Harry. He wanted to bring it up.

He chose not to.

“Anyways, next month I think?”

Calum’s chest hurt.

“So you’re coming right?” the hope in her voice made it worse.

“I’ll be there.” Calum choked out, “I have to go.”

“Aw really?”

“Yeah, sorry, talk later?” Calum collapsed into his bed.

“Good luck in your race tomorrow. Last one, then you’re coming home.”

Home. He’d wondered before if home was a feeling. He’d felt it every time he was in the bar with Celeste, or grabbing waffles, or with her staring at the stars or even the ceiling.

He wondered if he’d ever feel home again.

***

Alexa looked at Calum. He’d not been impressed to be there. Every time Celeste came out in a new white dress, he’d put on a big happy face, but as soon as Celeste was gone he’d frown again, sitting back and sighing.

“Aren’t you happy for her?” Alexa asked. She’d heard about Calum and Celeste being good friends. Hell, part of Alexa wondered if Calum had surpassed her on the friend scale. Not that Alexa had minded, she was busy and working in LA more and more, which made it harder to keep up with Celeste.

“Yeah. Of course.” Calum said.

“You don’t look happy.” Alexa pointed out.

Before Calum could respond, Celeste called for Alexa’s help and Alexa disappeared. Calum pulled out his phone, opening Celeste’s Instagram. The newest picture was one he’d taken. Celeste bending over the pool table to take a shot. She’d kicked his ass that night, and Calum smiled sadly, wondering if she’d still be up for dodgy bar nights after she was married.

Movement caught his eye and he looked up.

Celeste was standing there in the new wedding dress. It had a form-fitting corset that showed off her curves. Plain white and silky with harsher lines rather than a softly rounded neckline. Beautiful tulle layers of soft white fabric puffed out from under the corset.

She looked like a princess.

Calum’s heart leaped in his chest and he looked at her with eyes that betrayed everything… to Alexa, who was watching him carefully.

“What do you guys think?” Celeste asked, spinning.

“It’s the one.” Calum stated.

“I agree.” Alexa nodded.

Celeste beamed, her whole body alight with happiness as she looked at him, “I think so too.”

Celeste turned to go back into the changeroom and Alexa caught Calum’s eye, she frowned at him and Calum looked away.

Alexa felt bad for Calum, and as she helped Celeste out of the dress, Alexa also realized how much respect she had for the man. He’d said he was coming to the wedding. Alexa wondered if that was true.

***

He couldn’t do it.

He had to do it.

Calum sighed, leaning over the sink and splashing water onto his face. When he stood up, the face looking back at him in the mirror seemed put together.

Calum wished it was true.

The door to the bathroom opened and Alexa peeked her head in, “Cal?”

“This is the men’s bathroom.” Calum said, upset that she was disrupting him when he needed time alone.

“Celeste wanted me to come check on you.”

The anger in Calum’s shoulders disappeared and he took a deep breath, turning to Alexa, “I’m fine.” he lied.

Alexa stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, “you’re at your best friend's rehearsal dinner the night before her wedding. Your best friend, who I might add, you’re in love with.”

Calum swallowed thickly, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“It’s okay to admit it to someone Calum.” Alexa said, “I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Calum sighed, running a hand through his curls, “it’s my own fucking fault.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. I should have said something.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.” Calum said, voice rising, “but I should have. Before the wedding, before the engagement, before-” he cut himself off, turning to rest his hands on the sink again, head bowed, “it doesn’t matter.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re a really great guy.” Alexa said. There was a pause, then the bathroom door opened.

Celeste stuck her head in, eyes drifting between Alexa and Calum. For a moment she was expressionless, then she smiled, “what are you two up to?”

“Just talking.” Alexa said, “Calum needs to tell you something.”

Celeste entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She looked radiant as ever, in a soft lavender silky dress that Calum longed to touch. It lit up the green of her eyes and the tanness of her skin and Calum’s mouth went dry looking at her.

It had hurt to spend the whole dinner seated next to her, watching her laugh with Harry. Calum could barely stand it anymore.

“So…” Celeste said, “what’s up?” she looked between Alexa and Calum again.

“I’m going to give you two privacy.” Alexa said, quickly leaving.

Celeste turned to Calum, concern on her face, “is something wrong?”

Calum’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Celeste waited patiently, searching his face for a sign of what was to come.

This was the time to say it. The time to tell her how he felt.

He couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t bear the thought of making her upset, two days before her wedding.

“You’re not coming to the wedding are you?” Celeste frowned.

“No.” Calum breathed out before he could stop himself. He wouldn’t have said it on his own, wouldn't have brought it up, but now that she had… now that she was verbalizing it, he realized there was no way in hell he’d be able to go. Celeste’s eyes were welling with tears and Calum was quick to wipe them away before they could drip down her chin and tarnish her dress, “hey, it’s not you, I uh- work.”

The lie also slipped out before he could stop it. He couldn’t make her think it was her fault. Couldn’t tell her the truth.

“Work called.” he said, sounding more certain, “there’s a new thing they’re trying on my car so I have to get on a plane.”

“You’re flying out?” Celeste asked in confusion, “but your tournament just ended? I thought you were home for good? I planned the wedding so you could come-”

Calum’s heart broke at her words. He brushed more tears away from her face, hands cupping her cheeks. Celeste grabbed his wrists, looking up at him with those big green eyes.

His voice cracked when he spoke, “I’m sorry.”

Celeste moved his hands away from her face and hugged him, her body pressed against his front. Calum’s arms wrapped around her, “you’re going to have a great wedding.” he said, voice hoarse, “big and white and just what you wanted.”

Celeste cried harder and Calum wanted to go outside and crash his ferrari into a wall.

The door to the bathroom opened and Harry peaked his head in, immediately entering when he saw Celeste crying, “What happened?!” Harry asked.

Celeste pulled away from Calum and stepped instead into Harry’s arms, not saying anything as she cried.

“I got called in for work so I can’t make the wedding, I'm flying out tonight.” Calum said. It was easier to lie to Harry, “Celeste is upset I won't be there.”

Harry studied Calum for a moment, then he nodded, “I'm sorry you can’t make it.”

“Me too.” he paused, “I'll go grab Alexa, she’ll have makeup, I don't want to ruin your night-”

“When are you leaving?” Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at him.

“In two hours.” he lied, eager to have an excuse to leave.

He was glad Celeste was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to ask many questions or prod him for answers. He didn't have any answers. Knew the lies were weak.

Calum turned to leave but Celeste grabbed his hand, “when do you come back?”

“I don’t know.” Calum answered. He didn't know anything.

He’d go to Italy in a few days, that was Ferrari's home base. He’d learn some more Italian so his mechanics could talk to him, he’d-

“Calum?”

“Yeah?”

Celeste opened her mouth then closed it, then opened it again “don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t.” Calum looked at her quizzically, unsure where the sudden warning had come from, “send me pictures from the wedding okay?” he wouldn’t look at them.

Celeste nodded. She said nothing else and neither did Calum.

He left the bathroom, bumping into Alexa in the hallway, “what happened?!” Alexa asked, shocked by the tears that were welling in Calum’s eyes.

“I’m skipping the wedding.”

“Did you tell her you love her?” Alexa whispered, following Calum as he attempted to leave the venue.

“No.”

“So what happened?!”

“Told her I’m leaving the country tonight for work-”

“Calum!” Alexa grabbed his arm and made him stop, looking around to make sure no one was looking at them, “you can’t leave.”

“I’m going to go to Italy-”

“You can’t!” Alexa insisted.

“Why not?” Calum asked, beginning to get angry.

“Just-” Alexa looked around again, voice lowering, “please stay in town. Until after the wedding, then you can go wherever you want, you can be out of here tomorrow night. But… trust me Calum. It’s better if you’re here.”

“Why?”

“I just… I have a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Calum laughed, but there was no humour in it.

“Celeste is my best friend. She’s never said anything to me about you but-” Alexa cut herself off as a server walked by, looking at the two brunettes huddled together in secrecy, “just don’t leave the country. Promise me.”

Calum sighed, “fine. I’ll stay, but I’m getting a ticket for tomorrow night. then I’m gone.”

“Okay.”

Calum studied Celeste’s best friend. Wondered what she was thinking. Wondered what she couldn’t say.

***

Celeste had managed to get herself put together for the remaining rehearsal dinner, it was near done anyways. She’d gone home with Alexa, to the apartment they shared when they were both in the city.

Celeste would be moving out as soon as she returned from her honeymoon and her things were already in boxes, a suitcase packed for the trip Harry had planned to celebrate the wedding.

Alexa watched Celeste mope around. If Alexa didn’t know any better, she would have assumed Celeste had just been dumped.

Except that she hadn’t.

“Your wedding is tomorrow, aren’t you excited?” Alexa asked, passing a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream to her friend.

“Yeah,” Celeste frowned, “but Cal won’t be there.”

“Harry will. That’s what matters right?”

Celeste took a deep breath, “yeah.”

“What are you thinking Celeste?” Alexa asked, a question she’d become accustomed to asking. Celeste didn't open up much, even when prodded.

“I don’t know.” Celeste fell down onto her bed, careful not to drop the ice cream.

Her eyes went to the wedding dress hanging there, then to the picture of her and Calum that they’d taken in Italy months earlier. The two of them at Ferrari HQ where he’d shown her around and explained all the cars to her, talking in mangled Italian to the workers who’d smiled at his attempts.

Celeste groaned loudly, “well. I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.” Alexa didn’t sound too convinced.

***

Celeste paced back and forth, hands on her hips. It was an odd sight but not a surprising one for Alexa who stood there watching the fully dressed bride have a panic attack.

“What time is it?!” Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at Alexa.

“Eleven forty. wedding is in twenty minutes.”

“Oh my god.” Celeste fell onto a chair, hiding her face in her hands while careful not to smudge her makeup.

“Talk to me Celeste.” Alexa said, kneeling in front of her friend.

Celeste looked at Alexa from behind her fingers, then took a deep breath. For a moment Alexa thought Celeste would actually open up, then her mouth shut, “this is a mess.” Celeste whispered.

Alexa sighed, “Celeste. Is it possible, that the reason you were so upset when Calum left last night, is because you wanted him at the wedding-”

“Of course I want him there!” Celeste frowned.

“But maybe not as someone in the crowd? Maybe as the groom?” Alexa asked.

Celeste looked shocked for a moment, staring at her friend as if she’d just said she believed the earth was flat, “what?”

“You and Calum.” Alexa said softly, “do you love him?”

“Of course I love him.”

“As more than a friend.” Alexa specified.

“I-” Celeste looked distressed, “I’m getting married to Harry-”

“Just answer the question.” Alexa took Celeste’s hand gently.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. He chose work over being at my wedding and left the country last night-”

“He doesn’t have work today, and he didn’t leave the country.”

“What?!”

“He didn't come because he couldn’t stand to see you with Harry anymore.”

“What?!” Celeste said, louder this time.

“He loves you.”

Celeste stood up abruptly and Alexa followed suit. Alexa had expected Celeste to be ranting, but the girl in front of her was oddly silent.

Celeste’s hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone. She hit speaker and the sound of ringing filled the room.

“Celeste? Are you okay?” Calum’s voice was worried.

“You lied.”

“What?”

“You’re still in New York?” her voice cracked. The line was quiet, Celeste bit her lip, “can… can you come, and bring your car please?”

“I-”

“Calum please.” Celeste said.

She’d never been one to beg, but there she was. Begging in her wedding dress.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Please hurry.”

***

Calum got out of the car but it didn’t matter, Celeste was already running down the steps. Her hands clutched the dress, lifting it up as to not dirty it.

She was, in every sense of the word, a runaway bride.

And Calum had never been more in love with her.

He held the door open for the car. He’d chosen the one without a top, it was old but still luxurious. A few girls had told him it was the black version of the car people drove off into the sunset in Grease, but Calum had never fact-checked that claim.

Celeste was beaming. Glowing really. And Calum was smiling back at her, helping her tuck her entire dress into the car before he closed the door and ran to the driver's seat.

The car roared to life, like a battle cry, or perhaps a battle won.

“I need to go to my apartment.” Celeste said and Calum didn’t question it.

She’d yet to tell him anything. But since they were driving away from the church, Calum guessed the wedding was over. He was guilty that it made him happy.

The radio was playing club music, the type of hype music Calum liked to drive to, and Celeste turned it up. Her hair was getting messed up by the air whipping by them but Celeste was laughing, arms in the air.

She looked beautiful. Like a girl going to her wedding, not one running away.

Calum snuck glances at her at the first red light.

He could almost forget about Harry.

Until they drove up to the apartment and Harry was waiting there, leaning against his car. One of his friends was in the driver's seat, but he didn't get out of the car.

The look on Harry’s face was stony and it was obvious to Calum that he knew what was coming. “Calum, I need to talk to him is that okay?”

“Of course.” Calum answered.

Like Harry’s driver, Calum stayed in his car. Watching his best friend, the bride to be, get out and walk towards Harry. They were both dressed for the wedding, and it was odd to see them out on the New York street, even if it was a quiet one.

“Celeste, we need to be at the church-” Harry said.

“Harry, I love you but I can't marry you.” Celeste stated, “and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out.”

Harry was quiet.

“You’re one of the most wonderful people I've ever met.” Celeste continued, “and I needed to tell you this in person, but I can't do this. We’ve only been seeing each other for six months and we’re rushing things, don’t you think we’re rushing things?”

Harry sighed but nodded, he’d had the feeling too.

“Besides, we’re amazing friends and I do love you Harry, but I’m not in love with you.”

“Not the way you are with Calum.” Harry stated.

It knocked the air out of Celeste’s lungs. It was as if everyone had known her feelings except her, and maybe Calum, “I-”

“It’s okay.” Harry held up a hand, “s’ not like I would have been able to live in New York forever, and you can’t give up your sodding chicken and waffles.”

“Don’t bash the deep-fried chicken and waffles Harold.” Celeste said, faking offense, but then she was smiling and so was Harry.

“Come here.” Harry said, opening his arms.

They hugged and Celeste was happy neither of them were crying. It showed that this was right.

“I’m not going to deal with wedding guests.” Harry mused while pulling away.

“Me neither.” Celeste said, “we could both just not show up? That sounds like a good song.”

“You have left me with a lot of material.” Harry laughed, “well, I'll see you around Celeste.”

“See you around Harry.” Celeste said fondly, giving the brit one last smile before he got into his car and left. Then she bounded over to the car, leaning down to rest her arms on Calum’s door, “hey.”

“That looked like it went okay.” Calum said.

“It did. So, my bags are packed upstairs for a honeymoon that I’m not going on… what do you say we go somewhere?”

Calum smiled, “where to princess?”

“Take me back to Monte Carlo.”

***

The sound of the hotel room door opening woke Celeste up, her eyes landing on Calum. They’d arrived the night before and had immediately passed out, both too jetlagged to do much. Calum offered her a smile and Celeste stretched, yawning the words “where were you?”

“Wanted to get you breakfast but I didn't think the stuff downstairs was up to your standards.” Calum said, leaning on a wall. He wasn’t sure where to stand.

They were in Monaco.

They’d talked and watched movies the entire flight but neither had brought up the wedding.

He wasn’t sure where he stood with her. Wasn’t sure what he was allowed to ask.

Celeste could feel his awkwardness as she studied him. Then she stood up, adjusting the Ferrari shirt she was wearing. “Calum?”

“Hm?”

“Come here?”

Calum smiled softly, uncrossing his arms over his chest, he took a few steps forward. Celeste held out her arms and pulled Calum to her, looking up at him, “Calum. Do you know I love you?”

“Yeah.” Calum said, he’d heard it many times, after every phone call, after every ride he gave her home after a hangout.

“Do you know I'm in love with you?”

Calum’s breath caught in his chest and he wet his lips, mind racing. The thought that he was the reason for her ditching her wedding had crossed his mind but he’d pushed it to the side, instead deciding to be, as always, Celeste’s friend.

“Calum?” Celeste breathed his name, brushing her fingers over his cheekbone.

Instead of speaking he kissed her.

He’d gone so long not saying the words ringing through his brain, they could wait a little while longer.

His lips were soft on Celeste’s at first, hesitant, as if he was afraid she would pull away. Only when Celeste wrapped her arms around the back of his neck did he get more comfortable, one hand cupping her face while the other went to her waist, pulling her closer.

Calum pulled away and his entire body shuddered for a moment, in something like pure ecstasy, maybe shock.

Celeste smiled up at him, kissing his lips once more softly, “Are you okay?” she asked.

Calum laughed, returning her grin, he shook his head a little, “I just-” he couldn’t find the right words to explain how he was feeling, Celeste waited patiently and- god, he loved her so much.

She could see it in his eyes.

Calum’s fingers dug into Celeste’s hips and she beamed at him, brushing her fingers against his cheeks. She could feel what was unsaid and almost appreciated it more because he couldn’t find the words to say it. She’d always had a connection with Calum that seemed to be on another level, and moments like this confirmed it to her.

Moments like this. She enjoyed the thought of that, of more to come.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” Celeste teased, eyes darting down to look at his lips then up at him again.

Calum kissed her, not as hesitant as the first kiss. His hands went to her waist immediately, one of them dipping down to just above her bum. His fingers bunched in the red fabric and the cool air met Celeste’s ass. She was in a thong, Calum hadn't noticed yet because she’d been covered by the shirt since the night before, but when his hand dipped a little lower, he groaned into her mouth and Celeste knew he’d discovered the flimsy fabric covering her.

His hand kneaded her ass harshly, and Celeste smiled against his lips, loving the way it felt, loving the way Calum was groaning in anticipation. Celeste pressed against his front, already able to feel his hard on straining his grey sweats.

Then Celeste pulled away and Calum let her go, eyes opening questioningly.

Celeste pulled off the Ferrari shirt Calum had given her, revealing her near nudity underneath. Calum licked his lips, eyes focused on her chest. Then Celeste sat down onto the bed, her thick thighs looking deliciously curvy and grabable, Calum couldn’t hold himself back. He was between her legs before he could help himself, kneeling on the floor and tearing off her black silk thong.

“Calum!” Celeste laughed, fingers tangling in his curls. She’d not expected him to be so eager, expected him to go for kissing first. She had no idea how long he’d been waiting to taste her.

Calum’s fingers danced over Celeste’s calf and he moved it to be on his shoulder, his lips trailing up higher and higher. He kissed both thighs, nipping a little at the skin, fingers digging in as he held her in place.

“So pretty.” he mused, more to himself than anything.

Her fingers gripped his curls when his lips finally met her, wrapping around her clit. He’d had enough buildup. Enough teasing. He wanted to hear her moaning his name, wanted to watch her come undone under him.

The first moan was soft, more like a whimper, and Calum’s whole body felt like it was lit in flame. He sucked harder on her clit, fingers digging into her delicious thighs where they were on his shoulders. Her skin was warm and smelled like flowers, he wondered how she always smelled so good.

Celeste’s eyes were closed, lips parted, sinful, soft noises whispered into the cosmos as her lover devoured her.

Her lover… yes, that is what he was.

Calum was her lover in every sense of the word. It had just taken her a long time to realize it. He did everything for her and as he brought her to her first high, her heart filled with love. Love that had always been there, unidentified and growing. Now that she knew what it was, she was never going to let him go.

Calum licked his lips, looking up at Celeste. Her eyes were still closed, chest rising and falling softly as she chased her breath. He took her legs off of his shoulders and Celeste opened her eyes, looking down at him with a lazy smile. A comfortable smile. As if they’d done this a thousand times, “hi.” she said, voice near a whisper.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Her smile widened, “come here.” she said, instead of answering his question.

Calum moved to be on the bed with her, settled between her legs that wrapped around his waist.

He kissed her shoulder first, then her collarbone, moving up her neck before he reached her lips. When he kissed her, he kissed her gently. One of his hands came up to brush over her nipple, earning a soft shudder from Celeste that made him smile against her lips. “You’re so beautiful.” he told her, kisses traveling to her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, a sigh of content leaving her lips, “fucking love you.” he murmerred.

Celeste’s skin felt warm and her heart lurched in her chest. She knew he loved her, but hearing him say it was different. She brought his lips back to hers and kissed him like her life depended on it, part of her thought it did.

The pressure of his hard, clothes cock, against her sensitive entrance had her moaning within seconds, eager to get rid of Calum’s clothes. Soon, his Ferrari shirt has joined the one she was wearing on the floor and his joggers following soon after.

“I wanna top.” Celeste said against Calum’s lips and he paused, giving her a look but agreeing. He got onto his back and watched her straddle him, lining herself up with him. She sank down slowly, both of them groaning at the way it felt.

He had to admit it was a beautiful view. The first bounce had her breasts moving in a way that made Calum’s mouth water. His hands reached up to cup her breasts and Celeste moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on him.

Calum hadn’t had many religious experiences in his life.

This was one of them.

One of his hands went down to her ass, giving it a test smack that made Celeste laugh, her eyes opening. Her hands went to his chest and she leaned over him, kissing his neck while she continued bouncing up and down. He could see the way her ass was moving with each bounce and Calum groaned, eyes closing as he enjoyed the way it felt.

He was usually the top, usually the one doing all the work. It was nice to just lay back and relax and be doted on, especially since he loved her. Every kiss made him tingle and his heart was racing in his chest.

He felt the way he always felt after a race. It was exhilarating.

His arms wrapped around Celeste, slowing her motions so he could roll them so he was on top. The pace he wanted was faster than the one she had been giving him, and now it was his turn to make her feel good.

She looked so beautiful under him, and the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest did not go unnoticed. He wanted to be kissing her, touching her, loving her.

He angled his hips differently, hitting a spot inside of her that had Celeste’s legs tightening around his waist, “holy shit.” she breathed, moaning loudly.

Her fingers went to his curls again, tugging lightly at the dark strands. Their lips were passionate and slow against each other, tongues clashing, teeth biting. Then Calum grabbed one of her hands, interlocking their fingers as he pressed it down into the bed.

“I’m gonna-” Celeste began but Calum cut her off with his lips, pace quickening.

The whole bed was moving with each thrust, and Celeste’s whines were getting louder as he kissed her. He could feel her fluttering around him, a sign of her impending high. Celeste squeezed Calum’s fingers tight, high whimpers stopping as her whole body tensed, orgasm hitting her.

She was so tight around him that Calum came too, thrusts getting sloppy as they rode out their highs. Their kisses were open-mouthed, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.

When they were both done, Calum stopped gripping her hand so hard, instead, he pressed soft kisses over her face. “Fuck, I love you.” he whispered.

Celeste smiled up at him, “I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

***

The usual patrons of the bar watched the gorgeous couple play pool.

She was dressed in red, a colour she’d adopted to support her boyfriend. The colour made her glow, but her boyfriend’s smile was brighter. He watched her with complete adoration, even when she sunk a ball and got one step closer to beating him.

They were the same people they’d been when they were strangers.

He’d quit smoking, claiming he didn't need the high anymore, after all, he was with the love of his life. He still sometimes brought a cigarette or two to give to the bouncers, chatting with them outside before joining Celeste in the bar.

Celeste still played pool with girls who challenged her, but this time, Calum would come to stand behind her. Watching, his arms looped around his girlfriend, enjoying the way she chatted to the girls like they were old friends.

But they were happier, elevated versions of themselves. They’d always dazzled before, but together, they were an unstoppable force. They had the type of happiness people could only dream of.

Calum had always heard that if you dated your best friends, things would be okay.

With Celeste, his best friend, in his arms, he knew it was true. Her smile was contagious, it always had been. Watching her dance away, her dress teasing him, Calum was thankful for everything that had happened.

There’d been a time he hated himself for not talking to her, but it had led him to where they were now. He’d never believed in fate.

He did now.

********

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[alarawriting]

52 Project #5: Rosetta Stone

When Triala was twelve, a transmute spoke to her.

She'd never told anyone else the story.  One of the defining characteristics of transmutes was that they didn't speak.  And she had only been a child, and had come within a hair of being killed.  People would say she had hallucinated.  They might even take her to the Magicians, suspecting a traumatized mind.  But she knew what she'd heard.  And the transmute hadn't killed her.

She and the other children in her age group were going to the Magicians to be tested for Magic aptitude.  Already Triala had known that she didn't want to be a Magician.  She feared the transmutes, like everyone on Majer, but she felt a powerful fascination with them as well.  She had to be a Ranger, because only the Rangers got to see transmutes on a regular basis.  Even if it was only to kill them.  Unfortunately, if you had Magician aptitude, you became a Magician whether you liked it or not, and Triala had a deep and disquieting suspicion that she had it. She heard things, and remembered things that couldn't possibly have happened to her.  So she was very tense that day, fearing the interview with the Magicians.

A local Lifeliner brought her and the rest of the locality's 12-year-olds to the huge tree that housed the Magicians' testing center.  They were all made to wait in the outer rim, while the Lifeliner, a woman of clan Ringart, talked to the Magicians.  Then the testers came out, and called for the children one by one, in the order of their birthdates.

As one of the youngest of the twelves, Triala had a while to wait.  So she sat while child after child returned, known now to have no Magic within them-- or did not return, taken away to the training places.  The wait was driving her crazy with dread.  Magicians never deliberately encountered transmutes; close contact with the creatures generally drove them insane.  And Triala wanted to see transmutes.

She got her wish.  When there were four children left, one of the wooden chairs exploded out, the color draining from it as it melted into gelatin.  Triala sat frozen, shock and horror and fascinated excitement paralyzing her, as the gelatin recomposed itself into an evor, a stationary swamp animal with tentacles.  The tentacles lashed out, only seconds after the chair's melting, and caught the Lifeliner in the gun hand before she could get her weapon aimed.  She dropped the gun and screamed as the tentacle dragged her in.  "Kids! Get help!"

The door was blasted open, and three Magicians charged into the room. They tried to form a triangle around the transmute, which changed again, pulling itself in, and leapt.  A huge mouth with devouring teeth flew at one Magician before he could focus his power, and it ripped his head off and swallowed it.

The two other Magicians began to chant, trying to pen the transmute into a protective box as it charged for the entrance.  But without a third, all they could do was keep it in a corridor, and before they could narrow the corridor and crush the transmute, it had reached the first protective door, which it yanked open.

On the other side of the protective hall, the second door came down and transmutes swarmed inside.  Probably there were only five or six, but to Triala it seemed like thousands.  More Magicians arrived to fight.  A slender young man, no older than an eighteen, tried to get Triala and the other three children to safety.  A transmute smashed in his skull, and then tore a little boy apart for good measure.

Jesee and Marin, the other surviving children, clung to each other under a table, trembling and crying.  Triala was trembling too, but she didn't feel it.  She felt numb, strangely aloof.  Despite the blood and the viciousness of the battle, she couldn't quite make herself believe that the transmutes might kill her.

She glanced at the inner door that led deeper into the complex.  It had been sealed off with a metal safety door, protecting the rest of the complex from the transmutes, and essentially writing off the children in the waiting room.  Unless the Rangers showed up in time to rescue them, there would be no help for them-- the complex couldn't be endangered any further for the sake of three children.  The Lifeliner, Marin's mother, was dead, her body strewn in chewed pieces all over the floor.  All the Magicians were dead.  There were also dead transmutes virtually everywhere.

But there was still at least one alive.

The transmute approached.  Jesee and Marin scrambled back, yelling, "Triala, it's coming!"  But Triala was frozen.  The transmute held a vaguely humanoid shape, with huge, luminescent eyes that trapped Triala in fascination.  She couldn't move.  She didn't really want to.

The transmute was so beautiful.

Its skin was pearly luminescent, and the light from the overhead algaelamp made colors dance on it.  Its body was fluidity and grace incarnate.  A human shape made of gelatin, flowing in and out as it moved forward.  It hadn't manifested a mouth, or any other threatening appendage, and its eyes were pools of silver ocean water.  Triala had been out of the swamps just once to visit the ocean, but she had never forgotten how ocean water sparkled, so clear.  

It told her that she had been tested already.

There were no words.  But she knew the transmute had spoken.  Not in language, even the language of mental speech.  Pure thought, with no words.

Behind her, Jesee and Marin screamed.  Triala spun.  They had both been caught by a wounded transmute-- tentacles were wrapped around both their necks.  As she watched, they slumped.

"Let them go!"  she screamed at the transmute.

She heard it say that they would not die.  The thought that she interpreted as "death"  carried overtones of other concepts-- the extinguishing of an annoying light, the squashing of a bug.  Then it gave her to understand that humanity would believe she had been tested already, and had no magic.  Only, what it seemed to be saying was that she had no fearsome human power, and that this was somehow true.  Or perhaps that she could make it true, if she wanted.

She had not been tested already.  And if she was understanding mindspeech-- or something like it-- she had to have Magic.  But it could be true, if she said it to her fellow humans, in the human language that the transmutes couldn't speak.  It would become the truth, if she said it was.

It said to tell no one of this.

And then the Rangers arrived, and cut down the remaining transmutes with lasers.  Jesee and Marin had been poisoned by sleep venom, but would recover.  The Rangers told Triala just how lucky she was. "That transmute was about to go for you.  Why didn't you run?"

She didn't know.  It was as if she were waking up from a dream, now.  It struck her suddenly what danger she had been in.  "I-- I-- couldn't..."

"I hear that happens.  You were unbelievably lucky we got here in time.  Another minute, and you and your friends would have been mute meat."

She knew it wasn't true, but she didn't contradict it.  The transmutes had killed and died to talk to her, just to her. How could she explain that? She couldn't understand it herself.

She told everyone she had been tested for Magic, and had none.  No one checked her story.  She was never tested again.

She never spoke of it, ever.

***

In the flit on the way to her first real mission as a Ranger, Triala thought of that.

The situation they were going into was similar.  The transmutes had broken into a school, killed all the Professionals, and-- as far as the Magicians could tell-- hadn't killed the children yet.  No one knew why.  It was unclear whether transmutes understood the concept of "hostages"-- certainly no human had ever held a transmute hostage against another.  More likely, they planned to kill the children and impersonate them, in yet another useless attempt to mimic humans.  Of all the species on Majer, native and starborn both, humans were the only ones that transmutes could not successfully imitate, because humans were the only ones with language.

"So what do they hope to gain?"  Aisander of Korita asked.  She was a slim, pale-skinned redhead who had consistently been at the top of the class-- though never quite as high as Triala, whose grades were outrageously good.

"What do you mean, Korita Recruit?"  Dilman Ranger asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I mean-- if they know we won't be fooled, why do they bother?"

"If they don't understand language, what makes you so sure they know we won't be fooled?"  Dilman Ranger asked sharply.  "They might have no idea what keeps tripping them up.  Never assume you know how the transmutes think."

"Besides,"  Dereg of Mattorn said, eager to score points, "kids often don't talk right away after a trauma like that.  If a transmute plays an unconscious kid, it might get back as far as that kid's Treehouse before it gets caught, if the Rangers are careless."

"Good point, Mattorn Recruit.  If we rescue any kids, we make them talk before we take them back."

"Do you really think there'll be any kids to rescue, Ranger?" Triala asked.

Dilman's face darkened.  "Doubt it."

"I heard they sometimes kidnap children,"  Aisander said.

"It happens, yes."  He turned to Triala.  "It happened to you, Morell Recruit, if I remember the dossier on you right."

Triala nodded.  "When I was a small baby.  About 2 or 3. I disappeared for close to a year following a transmute raid, and then turned up again.  No one knows why."

"No one knows why transmutes do anything,"  Dilman said.  He checked the flit comp.  "We're almost there.  Morell-- don't get so fascinated with the transmutes they kill you.  Mattorn-- no heroics.  Neither Morell nor Korita's going to be impressed by stupid stunts. Korita-- don't be soft.  If it looks like a kid but it doesn't talk, we can't take chances."

"What if it's a baby?"  Aisander protested.

"Not that kind of school.  It's for sevens and up.  All the kids will be linguistic.  Any that aren't are transmutes.  Shoot them before they get you."

***

When Triala had been training for her Ranger status, the transmute lack of language had been given as the cause of the war between the two species.

"We probably started it,"  the instructor had said.  "The first humans who came to Majer didn't much care what they destroyed, and the transmutes probably fought to defend themselves.  But there's no way to call a truce.  Their memories seem to be as long as ours, and they're probably as intelligent-- but they don't have language."

"What about mindspeech?"  a student had asked.

"Any Magician that actually manages to get through to a transmute goes crazy.  They go catatonic or aphasic, lose their own language.  Or else they just turn totally psychotic.  Human minds can't connect with transmute minds-- they're too different."

"But they must communicate with each other,"  Triala pointed out.  They were wrong, though she wouldn't say it.  Transmutes could communicate with humans, if the humans were young enough. She remembered.

"Undoubtedly, but no one knows how.  Pheromones, maybe.  Or body language-- something incredibly subtle, that won't be affected when they take different forms.  Maybe some kind of mindspeech.  But whatever it is, it means nothing to us.  And our language means nothing to them."

It was something that nagged at Triala.  In the beginning, she hadn't been able to understand why Magicians couldn't communicate mind-to-mind with transmutes.  Later, a Magician from Farest, on the other side of Majer where they spoke a different tongue, had mindspoken to Triala, and she'd understood the barrier.  It was not as if the Farestina was speaking her language; it was as if, for that brief moment, she understood Faresti.  Mindspeech went through the language centers of the brain.  You couldn't mindspeak to a baby, and so you couldn't mindspeak to a transmute.

But if they couldn't speak to each other...  Triala had fantasies in which it turned out that the transmutes only wanted peace, wanted to negotiate coexistence, and if only the two species could talk...  No one would ever know, though, as long as they couldn't talk.  So they were doomed to kill each other, and there was no hope for peace.

When Triala became a full-fledged Ranger, and had some influence, she planned to push for experiments between captive transmutes and children with Magic.  It had to have been her age, that had enabled the transmute to talk to her.  If another child could be found who could speak to transmutes, perhaps Majer could finally find peace.  Right now, though, she was a green recruit on her first real mission, and she couldn't afford to think about peace.  She had to kill transmutes on sight, or they would kill other humans, such as her.  And Triala of Morell Clan was rather fond of life.

***

The school had been built low, where the major branches interlaced into a canopy over the swamp below.  The outer part of the school was built between two major branches, covering forty-five degrees of the tree's surface.  It was built out a good seventy feet; inside, it would be even bigger, where the builders had bored into the major branches and the tree itself.

One of the walls had been broken down.  Dilman pulled the flit up by it, and pointed it out.  "What's that look like to you recruits?"

"Wood rot,"  Dereg said promptly.  "They'd have injected it in, waited a few weeks for it to rot out the wood, and then just kicked the wall in."

Dilman nodded.  "The school should've kept up with its monthly sprayings.  They could've stopped the rot before it got that far.  Let's go in.  And be careful.  This isn't a sim."

Triala knew it wasn't a sim.  No matter how detailed the sims got, they never quite conveyed full smell and tangency.  The scent of rotting wood, blood and feces wafted from inside the school-- recent death, not long enough to produce rotting meat.  The feel of the uncertain creaking boards beneath her feet, the musty chalkboard smell of the air.  The luminaries, globes of water filled with glowing algae, had been smashed, and dim dying algae lay in stinking puddles across much of the floor.  The light was thus reduced to the dim half-tone that made it through both the forest overhead and the ceiling windows.  In several places, the window plastic had been gouged out, and lay forlornly on the floor underneath a skylight.  Occasionally they encountered an adult's body on the way in, sprawled bloody and torn.  Some of the bodies were remarkably close to intact, with dark bruises on their throats indicating a strangling death.

"I don't like this,"  Dilman muttered.  "Where're the kids?"

Triala felt she was being watched.  She kept twisting around to see, but there was no one.  Not even furniture-- transmutes could imitate wooden furniture, but there wasn't even that.  Just dead bodies.

What prevented transmutes from taking the form of dead bodies?

That was an incredibly paranoid thought.  She'd never heard of transmutes taking the form of dead humans before. But she couldn't see what would stop them-- it would solve the language problem, and a freshly killed body would still be warm, so the transmute wouldn't have to go to the trouble of cooling itself.  Perhaps a bloody, torn body would be too dangerous for them, but a body that had been strangled to death...  Paranoia saved Rangers' lives.  She was on the verge of drawing and shooting the dead when Dereg, on point, called, "Found the kids!"

As the others turned the corner, Triala did shoot the bodies.  They didn't twitch or transform.  They sizzled as her beam cooked them, but that was all.  She was being too paranoid, maybe.  Quickly she ran to join the others.  

There were six living kids, huddled together around the corner.  More dead bodies, of adults and other children, were strewn everywhere.  "Names!"  Dereg barked. Transmutes could imitate crying.

"Don't be so rough!"  Aisander complained.  But the kids knew the drill.  Terrorized as they were, they'd still had it drummed into their heads that they needed to speak, to identify themselves as human.  Each of them choked out a name, some sobbing so hard that the name wasn't recognizable-- but the point was to prove they were human, and human speech was recognizable even if individual words weren't.

Triala felt very nervous.  No transmutes.  There were no transmutes.  Maybe she hadn't been too paranoid.  Raising her gun, she said, "Dilman Ranger, I think the bodies--"

She got no farther.  The corpses shifted, as if they'd somehow understood Triala, jerking to their feet and taking different forms.  Despite the fact that Triala had already started to bring her gun into firing position, Dilman outdrew her and blasted two of the transmutes.  A third took the form of a springing creature and leapt for Dilman, but Triala shot it.  Then transmutes from the deeper recesses of the school poured in.

"Ambush!"  Dilman shouted.  He and Aisander dropped back to protect the kids, leaving Triala and Dereg to find cover and help pick off transmutes in the crossfire.  Assuming they didn't get killed first.  Triala rolled behind a metal room divider and fired, taking out a transmute that was practically on top of Aisander.  One got Dereg, coming up underneath where it had been impersonating a severed torso and dragging him down.  Triala couldn't see what happened after that, because a transmute leapt over the room divider and on top of her.  She twisted and flung it off before it had a chance to bite or sting her.  It came back at her, and she fired, cooking its center-- but at the last second it shifted almost all its mass into tentacles, leaving only a thin membrane to be cooked.  The tentacles shot out at her.  There was nowhere to dodge-- she was trapped by the metal divider.  One tentacle wrapped around her gun hand, numbing it.  The gun went flying.  Another grabbed her leg and yanked her to the floor.

Then the tentacles released her.  Triala didn't question impossible good fortune.  Some sixth sense she had never felt in the sims told her that more transmutes were coming over the divider.  She ran, away from her partners, away from the transmute that had attacked her.  Her gun was being guarded by a small transmute in the shape of a cat.  If she could get back to the flit, there were spare guns.  If she could get back--

The floor, destroyed from within by wood rot, gave under her.  In the split second as it gave, Triala understood that the transmutes had herded her here.  Then she fell, shrieking.  There were no major branches beneath her, no strong branches at all.  Her fall to the swamp 80 feet below was almost unbroken.

***

A large number of people on Majer had dreams that they could fly. They would pull up their legs and throw out their arms and they'd be flying.  Or they'd leap and not come down, or they'd flap their arms.  There were some who speculated that there'd been places on Terre, the world of humanity's origin, where the gravity was light enough that they could fly.  Others dismissed this as nonsense, the fancy of Terre-fantasy writers.

Triala had never dreamed she could fly.  But in her life, she had dreamed frequently of breathing swamp water. She would dream of being in the swamp, feeling the water cool against her body, and having no breathing difficulty at all, as if she had gills.  She would dream of the swamp, not as the dull gray murderous thing it was, but as a magic place full of shifting lights, luminescent fish, and wondrous creatures.

Apparently she was dreaming that again.

At least, she was here under the swamp, floating gently, sinking slowly downward, but she felt no real need to breathe, and no sense of pressure.  So it must be a dream.  And when the transmutes surrounded her in their various beautiful swamp-adapted forms, with long flippered legs, streamlined bodies, and shining big eyes, she felt no fear.  This was a dream, after all.  She made no move to stop the transmutes from catching her arms and tugging her with them, gently drawing her through the swamp water.

She was not afraid, but she was curious.  So she tried to ask, "Where are you taking me?"  But the dream had this much verisimilitude, at least; she couldn't talk underwater.  Her words came out in a gurgle.

The transmutes told her that they couldn't hear her.

It was the same strange not-speech the transmute had spoken to her years ago.  And like that, it was virtually indecipherable.  Do not hear? Cannot hear? Do not understand? Are not listening? The not-words echoed, strange and nonsensical, in her brain, overlaid with so many possible meanings she could not precisely decide which.  There was also a sense of kinship-- that they should be able to hear her, that it was her fault they could not.  But transmutes could never understand humans.

Slowly it dawned on Triala that she was in considerable pain.  The dreamlike absence of sensation ebbed through growing stages of hurt, until it felt as if her chest had been crushed and her legs were broken.  As pain returned, true consciousness did as well, and her senses cleared.  This was not a dream.  She had plunged 80 feet into the swamp, lost consciousness, and awakened, underwater.  Breathing, underwater.  With transmutes taking her someplace.

I hurt, she thought.  Oh, gods, I hurt.  It was the only thing she could think, a repeating litany.  Her brain was too occupied with the gradually increasing pain to notice anything else.  It was strange that she was breathing underwater, but strangeness could wait until she was no longer in pain.  Which, she thought, might be several years.  It was her impact against the water she was feeling.  Triala would be very surprised if any bone in her body was left unbroken.

Of course, she ought to be dead.

One of them told her that she should not be in pain.  Or that they didn't want her to be in pain.  Or that they would take the pain away.  Something like that.  Triala turned toward the transmute on her left, positive it had talked, but what had it said?

Then it manifested a barbed stinger.  Suddenly afraid, Triala tried to pull away-- too late.  A sharp jab in her chest, and then pleasant numbness, spreading through her body once more.

She felt dreamy, but would not succumb to it.  She had to think.  That ambush back at the school-- that had been an ambush, set up by the transmutes to specifically take out Rangers.  They were smart enough to know their primary enemies.  The ones that had engineered that trap had been unusually smart-- Triala had never before heard of transmutes impersonating dead bodies. Why had they used that technique this time? And why hadn't they killed her when they had a chance?

She was breathing underwater.  Transmutes were taking her somewhere.  Talking transmutes.  But they didn't speak in language-- they seemed to be communicating in concepts, in pure thought, the precursor of language.  These pure thoughts, uncontaminated by words-- were they what drove the Magicians mad or aphasic? The greatest difficulty they presented Triala with was that they were vague and hard to understand.  Was it that she was not as sensitive as the Magicians? Or that she was more?

Talking transmutes.  A dream come true.  It refused to add up.  How could she be breathing underwater?

Why is it I can understand transmutes?

They passed through a transmute city.  Triala might have caught her breath in recognition, except that she didn't quite seem to be breathing.  Broken branches, major and minor, tree stumps that didn't rise above the surface of the swamp, honeycombed with cells that held transmutes.  All the ones they passed had eyes, which they kept firmly averted away from Triala and her escort.

She remembered the stories of the kidnapped children, some of whom reappeared.  Of adults who disappeared into the transmutes' catacombs, never to return. Was that what they intended for her?

Then they rose up into a grotto, hollowed out from a tree stump, high enough to rise above the water.  Triala had seen photographs of caves, high in the mountains on the northern part of the world.  This was like a cave.  Enough wood remained to create a sloping floor that rose gently from below the water's surface to about a foot above, and then became a plateau, occasionally dipping back down into a puddle.  There was more wood overhead, a ceiling blocking out the dim sun of the swamp. Triala's three transmute escorts began to glow as they entered the grotto, their bioluminescence providing the only light.

For a second, rising from the water, Triala couldn't breathe.  She choked, feeling something in a band around her neck gape open uselessly.  Then the pressure in her neck eased, and she sucked in a gasping surge of air, musty and swamp-smelling.

The flapping sensation she had felt disturbed her greatly.  She put her hand to her neck.  There was a swelling there, going down as she touched it. Quickly it was gone.

What the hell--?

Her escort tugged her forward, telling her she must come.

Triala stepped forward-- and realized that she had healed.  There were no longer any traces of the injuries she'd suffered when she fell.

And she knew this place.  Her eyes widened.  This cave was in her dreams, her nightmares.  Had she been held captive here when she was a baby, prisoner of the transmutes?

The transmutes gestured her over to a hole in the wood.  A small, square hole.  By the light of the transmutes, she peered inside, and saw--

--a baby's skeleton.

And she knew whose.

Triala jerked to her feet.  "No!"  she screamed at them, the three silent figures.  "No! I'm human! I'm human!"

They could not hear her.  Or did not understand, or whatever they were saying.  They told each other that she hid her thoughts, or disguised them, like the invaders did, the despoilers.  One complained that Triala was a failure, absorbed.  Another protested that she would hear, she would accept, she would understand.

They were trying to tell her she was a transmute.  Human infants had not yet learned to speak.  Transmute infants had not yet learned not to.

Put a transmute baby in a room with a human one.  The human one had to be old enough that it could speak a little bit. Transmutes did in fact know what human speech was, and that it kept them from imitating the invaders.  They couldn't speak it, couldn't imitate it, but they knew it when they heard it.  So take such a baby and pair it with a transmute baby.  Tell the transmute infant-- since you and it are both prelinguistic, since you share thought, not words, it will understand you-- tell it that it must mimic the human.  Lavish care on the human, food, attention.  Praise it and play with it when it speaks.  Ignore the transmute baby except when it is fully human, an exact replica of the human it mimics.  And praise it when it speaks, as well.

Until the baby forgets it was a transmute.  Until its birth-gifts go dormant, as it takes on the identity of the human child.  Then release it back to the humans, who will train it to speak and behave as a human, never imagining that it is not.

Triala of Morell died in infancy, allowed to expire by her transmute captors, when their own infant had replicated her sufficiently.

Triala of Morell's tiny bones lay in a wooden grave, in a transmute grotto.

And a transmute who bore the same name crumpled to the floor in anguish, hands pressed to her face, understanding.  They had watched her all along.  They had known that if she joined the Magicians, she would be lost to them, so they created chaos by killing her testers.  Afterward, she collaborated, telling the humans that she had been tested, and they'd believed her.  The transmute power to change what others perceive, to alter what they believe, channeled through the human power of language.

They'd set a trap for her.  Transmutes had always had the power to impersonate human dead.  They had chosen not to do so for a century or two, keeping it in reserve for when they would truly need it.  They had used it this time, just so they could get her back.

They asked her if she understood.  Or told her that she understood.

And she did understand.  The more she heard in pure thought, the less necessary the translation into language was, and therefore the easier it became to understand.  Consciously she tried to think without words, telling them that she did understand how-- but not why.  What was the reason?

The concept that came back at her was so dense it was difficult to unravel. She would be a boundary/bridge/assassin/spy/diplomat.  In languages, the overtones were mutually contradictory, and she sent a lack of comprehension at them.

They replied that she was a transmute that could imitate humans.  She could teach them how to do it.  One thought she could infiltrate human society and destroy the invaders.  Another felt she could make the humans stop their war against transmutes.  She could speak for the transmutes to humanity, could be the ambassador between the races and bring peace.

Humans would assume that one who claimed to speak to transmutes was insane, she tried to tell them.  If medical science could not reveal what she truly was, they would put her in a madhouse, and if it could, humanity might well kill her in a spasm of superstitious fear. The idea of a transmute that could, in fact, speak like a human, could pass for human so well it itself thought it was human, would terrify most humans.  But she wouldn't destroy humanity for the transmutes' sake, even if she could, which she doubted.  She had always dreamed of ending the war, not of committing genocide.  And she knew nothing of her transmute heritage-- she had grown up a human among humans.  If it came to genocide, she had already chosen sides, when she became a Ranger.

Of course, when she'd chosen sides, she hadn't known what she was.

They reminded her, sharply, that she was thinking in words again, and they couldn't follow.

She sent at them a question.  Why had they brought her here?

They replied it was so she would know what she was.

But I don't know what I am.  If I ever knew what it meant to be a transmute, I've forgotten it.

???

Sighing, she tried to think the idea again, without words this time.

They seemed to understand.  One asked her if she wanted to learn.

Yes.  She couldn't make a decision until she knew what the stakes were, and what weapons she would have to fight with.  She gave them her assent.

They told her to come.  

She followed her guides into the water again, and the gills rose on her neck automatically.  She couldn't consciously change herself-- she couldn't shed her human form-- but that was all right, the others told her.  She would learn.

The only transmute with a name swam off with her new companions.

[lawrenceop]

HOMILY for 14th Sun after Pentecost (Dominican rite)

Gal 5:16-24; Matt 6:24-33

Last weekend, the Dominican friars of this community elected me as their prior, entrusting me with responsibility and care for the material and spiritual needs of our religious house. Like any other household or family of human beings, we have material needs – food, clothing, heating, and so on – and spiritual needs – time for recreation together, time in prayer and contemplation, attention to the public liturgy, works of penance, study, and so on. For human beings are a unique unit of body and soul, and so we have bodily demands as well as spiritual needs, and both must be met. In my first week as prior, therefore, a considerable amount of time has been spent with the brothers, listening to them, talking and building up relationships. But even more time has been spent making financial decisions, planning fundraising, speaking with contractors who will soon be undertaking essential repairs and restoration of the apse and the High Altar, and examining the budget. Will we have enough for food and drink, and clothing, and all our other bodily essentials? All these are the matters which have concerned me in the past week.

So today’s Gospel is very timely. The temptation is to read the Gospel (and indeed, the epistle) in a somewhat dualistic way, as though the body and its needs do not really matter – after all, some will say, the spirit is what matters; eternal life is all important. However, although eternity and friendship with God in heaven is our goal, it strikes me as heretical to speak like this and to simply denigrate the necessities of the body. After all, the Word became flesh, and assumed a human body, becoming Incarnate in the Virgin Mother’s womb. Therefore our holy father St Dominic and his sons combatted the Albigensian heretics of his time who elevated the spirit over the body, and indeed, believed that human bodies imprisoned the soul. Instead the Dominican Order championed the goodness of material creation, the beauty of the human person, body and soul, and venerated the Incarnation. Among the practices popularised by the Order was the daily Angelus which focusses us on the Incarnation of Christ, literally, the en-fleshing of the divine Word of God.

As such, we must understand properly the words of St Paul in the epistle: “walk by the Spirit, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh.” (Gal 5:16). When St Paul refers to “the desires of the flesh” he does not mean merely the natural needs of the human body, say for food and drink and shelter. Rather, as his list of the “works of the flesh” make clear, he refers to the sinful and disordered desires of the body, not just for those material things that we need in order to live and to thrive but, moreover, the concupiscent desires for excess, for comforts, for pleasures which indulge our bodies. These lead to avarice, and envy, and the love of money which, as St Paul says is “the root of all evil.” (1 Tim 6:10) Therefore, the Constitutions of the Dominican Order reminds us that “we [friars] have decided to be poor both in fact and in spirit, so that while we endeavour to free people from domination by wealth and so direct them towards the things of the spirit, we ourselves may also conquer greed, imitating Christ.” (LCO 31 §1)

So, a right understanding of St Paul’s exhortation in the epistle and of the Gospel takes us closer to Christ, the Incarnate Word, who shares in our humanity and knows our fundamental human needs both of body and of spirit. For, as God he made the whole material universe and designed us in this way as bodily creatures who will know the goodness and beauty and majesty of God through his material creation. And, as Man, Christ experienced hunger and thirst as well as the natural desire for friendship and love. Hence, in the Gospel, Jesus says concerning material things such as food and drink and clothing that “your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” (Mt 6:32) Indeed, the Son of God knows these human needs through his own sacred body.

But the Lord knows, most importantly, our fundamental human need, which is for true relationships, for friendship, for love, and thus, for salvation. We need to be saved from our sins, from our fallen selves, from the lusts of the flesh. For every sin isolates us and, as St Augustine says, turns us in on ourselves and away from others. Therefore, salvation is found in not selfishly gratifying the flesh, as St Paul put it, but, rather, in being led outwards in love and in genuine Christian friendship towards others. As St Paul says: “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal 5:22-23) Salvation, therefore, is found in putting right the desires of the flesh, so that our desires are moderated, balanced, tempered and healed by grace. Thus the Lord says: “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.” (Mt 6:33) In other words, before we worry about what I want, and worry about my needs, think first of what God wants, and of what my neighbour needs.

St Teresa of Kolkata put it beautifully and profoundly: “There’s two kinds of poverty. We have the poverty of material; for example, in some places like in India, Ethiopia and other places, where the people are hungry for a loaf of bread – real hunger. But there is a much deeper, much greater hunger; and that is the hunger for love, and that terrible loneliness and being unwanted, unloved – being abandoned by everybody.” My brothers and sisters, this hunger has become more severe. There is a famine of love in our society, and the internet and its deceptions haven’t brought us closer but instead drives a wedge between us and polarises our conversations. But no matter how little we may have materially, we can still give ourselves to others in love, in friendship, in care. I learnt this essential lesson from the poorest of the poor in the slums of Manila, almost 20 years ago, and I have never forgotten the love they showed me. For this is what Christ has done for sinful humanity: Christ has enriched us with his grace, with his friendship, with his love. Hence St Paul says: “For our sake [Christ] became poor, that by his poverty we might become rich.” (2 Cor 8:9)

The richness that Christ gives to you and to me through his Incarnation is the grace of divine Sonship. And this is the core of today’s Gospel. Why is it that we need not become anxious about our physical well-being and needs? Christ says that the pagans worry about such things, and indeed, they become fraught, and they fight, and they plot to gain more riches and financial security at all costs. In other words, they place their trust in insurances and in the God of Mammon, wealth. But Christians, as children of a loving and provident God, are invited to take on the mind of Christ the Son who entrusted everything in body and soul to the Father, both at Gethsemane, and then again on the Cross: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” (Lk 23:46) This surrender to divine providence, trusting in God’s goodness, God’s plan, God’s wisdom is the fundamental attitude of the Son, and we pray that God’s Holy Spirit gives to each of this same grace of surrendering to the providence of God. As St John Henry Newman said: “Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see/  The distant scene—one step enough for me… I was not ever thus, nor pray’d that thou/ Shouldst lead me on./ I loved to choose and see my path; but now, /Lead thou me on!”

So the Dominican Constitutions tells me: “this spirit of poverty urges us to put our treasure in the kingdom of God’s justice, with a lively trust in the Lord” in order that, as St Augustine’s Rule says, “enduring love will govern all matters pertaining to the fleeting necessities of life.” This is my goal as a Dominican friar, as prior, and also most importantly, as a Christian. Surely this is your goal too, that enduring love should govern all that we do and all that we desire in this life so that we shall be possessed by Love himself in the everlasting life of heaven.

[zinaelemental]

Hello Pagan tumblr,

My name is Zina. I’ve been a practicing Elemental Pagan for the last 6 months and here is a little tid bit about my beliefs and practices. I’m writing as I go and when I can’t write anymore I stop and come back so please bear with me.

What is an Elemental Pagan?

An Elemental Paganism is what I call my personal beliefs that the elements are in control of this Earth and all things that dwell on it. They can be angry, happy, gentle, rough, sad, etc.

With each element comes a link to our inner and external environment. When I say environment I don’t just mean the physical realm that surrounds us, I mean the spirit and emotional realm as well.

Essentially, an Elemental Pagan believes that the elements (Earth, Air, Water, Fire, and Spirit) are the higher power and control what happens to humanity.

Can you pray as an Elemental Pagan?

Absolutely! In elemental paganism, it is vital to talk to the elements and seek guidance. They will more than likely listen to your request or help you understand why it’s important to the growth of either the world, humanity, or an individual themselves. Unfortunately, like all prayer, it’s hard to really know if you’ve been heard. But if you’re praying and you feel a change in temperature or you get goosebumps or you suddenly feel a gust of wind, that means they’re listening. Sometimes these signs are so subtle that you might not notice them, it takes practice to feel the slightest changes in atmosphere. Grounding meditations can really help for that! (I’ll touch on this in the next segment).

Communication is key to shaping your relationship with the elements. Tell them when you’re mad, tell them what makes you angry and they’ll tell you why they are, too. If you think something isn’t beneficial to you, yell at them about it, get your anger out. The elements know that emotional expression is necessary for human sanity and improvement and they won’t hold that against you.

The elements are always listening, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to fulfill your request if the struggle/problem is meant to happen for individual or global growth.

How do I practice?

Anyone knows that practice is important for any structured belief, it helps us get closer to our higher powers and guides. It’s important to mention that practice can be anything you want it to be.

Thinking in the shower/bath and seeking guiding? That’s practice.

Going outside and meditating? Practice.

As long as the purpose of your thought process is to seek guidance or listen to your guides, that’s practice in my book. You don’t have to have an entire ritual set out for every day, that isn’t necessary.

For the sake of this argument, I will share some of my rituals I do to help get myself closer to the elements.

Grounding and meditation tips

Feel free to skip this part if you don’t plan on doing rituals!

I’ll make a future post about how exactly I do this as an Elemental Pagan, but for now I’m just going to mention that this is a stationary ritual; you must remain in the same position and spot during meditation and grounding to experience it to the fullest. You find a spot and a position that’s very comfortable for you; sitting, lying down, standing, a yoga position if you want.

For meditation, you let your mind kind of wander and let your spirit talk to itself and the elements.

For grounding, it’s important you think of a place, like a forest or a lake, and attach yourself to the Earth. Typically this is done by imagining yourself growing roots into Earth’s soil where this imaginary place is (or if you’re lucky enough then you can meditate at a very earthy place and imagine it happening right where you are!). I won’t go into too much detail, so here are a few helpful links.

Guided grounding: https://youtu.be/b5LkXFPngX8

Can I work with Deities?

Yes! I follow three deities and use them as guides. I don’t believe the deities have any immense power, like the elements do, but they can definitely help you understand what might be happening and help you grow and gain knowledge. Personally, I have Odin (Norse pantheon), Medusa (Greek pantheon), and Gaia (Greek pantheon) as my spirit guides.

Odin teaches me wisdom and understanding. If there is a disagreement he tells me how to see both sides and reminds me my perspective is different, not the right or wrong one.

Medusa teaches me the sacredness of nature and physical and internal beauty of those around me. She tells me to stop looking at people as if they aren’t human; don’t hold them accountable for everything they say and do. Forgive those who have wronged you, see beauty in everything and everyone, and remember your worth.

Gaia teaches me the importance of life and human birth. As people we are taught that death is inevitable, yes very much so, but Gaia shows me that life is more than our physical form and takes place deeper than that. Our life is different than everyone else’s. She teaches me empathy, pain, healing, and inner growth. Life also doesn’t mean strictly human life, it means all forms. So animals are not less or more important than humans. All life is equal.

Yes but understand they aren’t higher powers, they are guides. They can’t change the outcome or situation but they can help you learn from it or help you decide what to do and where to go.

What are Spirit Guides?

Spirit guides are spirits, deities, depictions, etc. who help bring guidance to you. The elements can refuse to help you with your problem if it is meant to improve you, but sometimes they aren’t exactly clear as to how that might be. As mentioned previously, I have three deity guides. All of whom have an animal depiction instead of the more commonly known human form. For example, Odin is a wolf or raven depending on what’s being shown (raven for understanding, wolf for emotional expression/nihilism [death is inevitable and nothing we do matters so live your life how you want]). These guides are here to, well, guide you. Each guide has its own purpose or calling, they typically won’t go outside of that unless they see fit. Odin won’t help me with seeing the inner beauty in someone unless it helps me understand their point in the argument, etc.

Guides can be anything you want so long as they help you and teach you the importance of a situation. They aren’t higher powers, they can’t change the situation or outcome. They’re only there to advise you, they’re your council.

[chwrpg]

It’s about time. We’ve been waiting for you guys. -- Nova Lisbon

A NOTE FROM ADMIN B: If anyone can hear screaming in the distance don’t worry it’s just me!!!!!!!!! It’s no secret the Lisbon sisters are the loves of my life so I’ve always wanted to have the full set on the dash to really get into that family dynamic of theirs. And now, thanks to resident angel™ Tiff, we’re one step closer! I love the way you’ve written Nova-- like the other sisters she has that enigmatic manic pixie dream girl facade, but there’s so, so much more behind what everyone else projects onto her. I cannot wait to see her finally get the attention she deserves.

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

That Bitch FKA Tiff . 26 . CST

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Nova Lisbon

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

7

SECONDARY CHOICE:

-

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

If John Green had ever met Nova Lisbon he would have had a field day with that one. Everything about her from the way she walked with a little skip in her step to her more arbitrary habits like the way she dotted her i’s with hearts and took Buzzfeed personality quizzes when she was bored in class was more than enough material for her to inevitably become someone’s manic pixie dream girl. It wasn’t even that there was necessarily anything special that made her stand out from everyone else, people were just naturally attracted to her because she was an enigma; an experience that they could talk about at class reunions in the years to come. The Lisbon sisters were known in town for the air of mystery that followed them, enticing those who enjoyed a challenge to go to great lengths in hopes of catching the attention of one of the elusive sirens. Catching the eye of one of them was like winning a lottery ticket or climbing Mount Everest. While her sisters preferred to shy away from this portrayal that had been placed on them since their move to Rosewood, just trying to live normal lives, Nova reveled in all of the extra attention, more than happy to take her sisters’ share. Being caught smack dab in the middle of so many personalities made it so that it could be difficult to not get overlooked and that soon became one of her biggest fears, being forgotten and ultimately left behind, even by her own family. A fear that she never shared with any of them out of fear of sounding more irrational than her mother often made her feel. How could she tell them not to be themselves because it made her feel small compared to them when their parents had already stifled almost all enjoyment out of their life? Instead she began doing outrageous things and getting into unsavory habits for the sake of standing out. And in a way showing that she had control over her life, that no one told her what to do, even her parents. Though as mature as she tried to come off she was still a naive, hopeless romantic who could easily be taken advantage of. She fell in love easily. It seemed almost weekly. Unfortunately all of those people were out of her life about as fast as they had come in. But in that desperation to become a person of importance in others lives, in fighting so desperately to not become just another passing flavor of the week, she gave pieces of herself. Until she had given so much there was nothing left to give. Until all that was left was for her to get her shit together and pick up those pieces herself. And slowly but surely she was learning to do that. No offense to Alaska Young, but she was going to become the one who would control the narrative to her own story.

SAMPLE WRITING:

When Nova had first proposed the idea of a peer counseling program she had been met with a couple of chuckles, little bouts of amusement which soon took an awkward turn when the realization hit that she was completely serious. They were completely in their right to believe that she had been joking of course. Up until recently she wasn’t known for taking anything too seriously, much less known to dabble in humanitarianism. How on Earth did this girl, the same girl who throughout high school threw fits mid lecture over something as simple as a break up note think she was equipped to share any kind of advice with anyone? But that was exactly why Nova thought she was a prime candidate to participate in a peer counseling program. While, yes, she had been raised in an extremely sheltered environment she had somehow managed to find herself going through certain hardships that weren’t universally shared in such a short amount of time. Sure, as the whispers around town had led everyone to believe once the girls had all effectively left their time in captivity in their house, there probably wouldn’t have been so many speed bumps along the way if she had just listened to her parents. But she also wouldn’t have learned any of the life lessons she had if these experiences never occurred. For as much as she had been shamed at the time for her mistakes she felt no regrets. These moments and lapses in judgement that she was demonized for, especially by her mother who constantly berated her for being a free spirit, had molded her into the person she was today. The thing with Nova was that she stopped letting herself be bound by the rules the moment they settled down in Rosewood. Which really should have come as less of a surprise considering the compounding frustration that had slowly built up in the girls, passing on the baggage from the sister before them like a rite of passage.

Being part of such a tight knit family had always felt like both a blessing and a curse. The Lisbon sisters had always been as thick as thieves, so close that growing up Nova even believed they all shared a soul. That they all took different parts of it and together completed a whole person. Tessa had snatched up the compassion and understanding, Marina the brutal honesty and vicious protectiveness, Bridget the loyalty and adaptability, and Cecily the courage and patience. At least that was how she coped with their situation, by doing what she always did and romanticizing everything. Perhaps that was where the real problem lied though, that their codependence ran so deep they lost their sense of individuality. But what else were they supposed to do when their growth had already been stunted so severely by denying them the ability to form any true relationships outside of their own household? Even Nova had always been more open to the public than her sisters left a lot of things unsaid, things she didn’t think were of much importance but explained a lot about her character. Things she wanted people to find out about her by looking deeper than surface level. She left hints here and there, little moments with different people, like a scavenger hunt waiting to be solved. It was a path many had tried to venture but very few actually made headway along.

These who truly got to know Nova knew she was like a hurricane; calm and still at times like the eye of the storm, the still point in the turning world as one of her many suitors once stated. But destructive in passing, wearing her heart on her sleeve, and often making a scene when she felt  like she was being played. Maybe that was why no one could quite understand why it was she felt the need to start the peer counseling program. Was it to gain some kind of karmic retribution for all the lives she had turned upside-down? Or was it to live vicariously through the lives of others by listening to their stories like they were retellings excerpts from books in some vast library of life? The truth was much more simple than that. Nova just loved people. And she liked to help them, not out of self interest despite this desperate need to be loved in return, but because she was fundamentally a caretaker.

This was how she found currently herself the only running some errands for colleagues and shopping for holiday decorations to spruce up the little office they used as the peer counseling center. She had taken a bit of a detour in the beauty department when the wails of child snapped her out of her own thoughts. Turning to scan down the aisle and see where the ruckus was coming from she spotted a little girl, no more than two or three years old. Around how old her child would have been had things turned out differently. The kid seemed to be lost and crying out for her mom but there was no one in sight who seemed to be coming to her rescue. She shuffled back awkwardly to the end of the aisle, looking all around to see if anyone was making their way back over for her or even if there was an employee whose attention she could get, but there was no one. Part of her told herself to just go and pretend like she didn’t see anything, it wasn’t her business anyways. But this wasn’t something she could overlook, it didn’t sit right to not do anything. Seeing this tiny person so upset because she was lost and didn’t know what to do reminded her of herself, and how she felt growing up.

“Hey sweetie…Did you get separated from your mom?” She asked timidly, slowly making her way closer to her, crouched down slightly so she was level with the kid to not make her feel too intimidated of this stranger coming up to her. The little girl simply nodded in response, wiping at her eyes and nose with the sleeve of the jacket she had on. “Okay. I’m gonna take you to some people that are gonna help find her, alright?” The Lisbon girl offered in the most reassuring tone she could muster up to reassure the child that things would be okay. Gracelessly she led the little girl through the store towards the front, to the customer service area where she knew the girl would be safe and there were people who were more trained on what to do in this kind of situation. Whose hearts probably wouldn’t be on the brink beating out of their chest from anxiousness of having someone else’s safety in their hands, especially when the girl reached up to clutch her hand only managing to hold onto a few of her fingers as they walked.

As awkward as she herself felt, the unknown leading the unknown, she did her best to keep a brave face all the same. The same forced smile she plastered on whenever she went back home, which she hadn’t been back to since her miscarriage. Nova had never been great with kids. They were a huge responsibility, they required lots of time, they were very dependent. They asked for much more than she currently had to give, more than she thought she would ever have to give. And quite honestly she hadn’t had the best examples of parenting. The fear of screwing up another life because of her own damage was real. It was why as shitty as she felt thinking it she was actually sorta relieved when she miscarried. It was a sad situation knowing there had been a life inside of her and losing it from one minute to another. But it didn’t feel sad to her. To be honest she didn’t really feel anything when it happened other than a weight off her shoulders. It felt like she had been granted a second chance at life. A chance to do everything over but better this time. But currently this tiny person was being so strong and entrusting her whole life with someone she didn’t know. The least she could do was act like she had her shit together for a few moments. 

When they made it to the service desk the employees got straight to making an announcement calling for the girl’s mother. Nova turned to head back to finishing her errands but stopped in her tracks when she felt a tug on the back of her shirt. It was the little girl. She begged for her not to leave and Nova didn’t have the heart to tell her no. So she stayed and played the few schoolyard games she remembered, like patty cake and rock paper scissors, with her until her mother arrived. 

The mother’s face was covered in tears as she scooped up her kid and held her close. She thanked Nova over and over again. “I don’t know how to repay you.” She said through her tears. 

“That’s not necessary, ma’am. Seeing how happy you two are is enough repayment for me. Just remember to cherish her the same way you are now always. Even when she gets older and starts giving you a hard time.” She said with a soft laugh and warm smile. As happy as she was for the happily reunited family she felt a pang in her chest as she thought about how broken hers currently was, everyone going in completely different directions once they had left home. It pained her heart to see someone have the kind of relationship she had always wanted with her mother, to see someone be revered simply for existing and not looked down on as if she was a mistake.

Maybe this was a sign. She had overcome every other problem in her life. Maybe it was time she faced the last one holding her back. Letting go of the anger she felt towards her parents. Or at least confront the issue instead of running from it. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed the number of the one parent she wasn’t scared out of her mind to talk to.

“Hey, Dad…How are you?” She asked softly into her phone.

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985

[rockislandadultreads]

New(ish) Historical Paperbacks, a reading list

Forever My Duke by Olivia Drake

Hadrian Ames, the Duke of Clayton, needs a bride. He even has the perfect one picked out. That is, until he meets the lovely, free-spirited Natalie Fanshawe. She’s the opposite of what a man of his high rank should desire in a wife—an outspoken American who has never even set foot in a London ballroom. But Natalie doesn’t have time to be swept off her feet by a handsome duke who must be a spoiled scoundrel like every other British lord. And she couldn’t care less about Hadrian’s title. After all, it’s not as if he actually worked to attain his wealth and status. He surely can’t understand what it’s like to be a busy woman, planning to open a school while trying to reunite a six-year-old orphan with his English relatives. Nevertheless, Hadrian launches his campaign to win her heart. Can the utterly delightful American beauty ever find a way to love him…despite his being a duke?

Heiress for Hire by Madeline Hunter

Minerva Hepplewhite has learned the hard way how to take care of herself. When an intruder breaks into her home, she doesn't swoon or simper. Instead, she wallops the rogue over the head and ties him up—only to realize he is Chase Radnor, the man who nearly got her convicted of her late husband's murder. Now, he's insisting that Minerva has inherited a fortune from his uncle, a wealthy Duke. Only one thing could surprise her more: her sudden attraction to this exasperating man... Chase can't decide whether Minerva is a wronged woman or a femme fatale. Either way, he's intrigued. Since the scandal surrounding her husband's death, she has set up a discreet detective business to rival Chase's own. She may be the perfect person to help him uncover the truth about his uncle's demise. But as proximity gives way to mutual seduction, Chase realizes he craves a much deeper alliance...

Every Bit a Rogue by Adrienne Basso

When a young lady sacrifices her reputation to save a viscount, it's the beginning of an extraordinary adventure in Adrienne Basso's captivating Regency tale...

Jon Burwell, Viscount Kendall, knows what the gossips say about him. They claim he's been a dejected, half-mad recluse ever since he was jilted at the altar. The simple truth is that Jon has thrown all the passion he once had for his fiancée into his latest mechanical invention. But his single-minded existence has lately been shattered by repeated encounters with Miss Emma Ellingham, his neighbor's intriguing sister-in-law.

Painting and sketching have been Emma's consolation since her own secret heartbreak. When she stumbles upon the viscount's workshop, his machine revives her artistic imagination. The gentleman himself is even more fascinating—and deeply seductive. When Jon is accused of a crime, Emma risks her good name for his sake. But though the threat of scandal compels them to wed, only courage can overcome their pasts, and allow desire to transform into love.

A Good Duke is Hard to Find by Christina Britton

After her third fiancé leaves her at the altar, Lenora Hartley is beginning to think she's cursed. One thing's for certain: she needs to escape London and her father's tyrannical attempts to find her yet another suitor. The Isle of Synne, an isolated and idyllic retreat off Britain's northern coast, is blessedly far from society's gossip, but it also carries haunting reminders of her first fiancé. Letting go of the past to find happiness seems impossible—until Lenora is thrown in the path of a gruff, mysterious blue-eyed man who makes her pulse race. Next in line for a dukedom he doesn't want to inherit, Peter Ashford is only on the isle to exact revenge on the man who is responsible for his mother's death. Once he's completed the task, he'll return to America where his life can finally be his own. Yet when he meets the beautiful and kind Miss Hartley, he can't help but be drawn to her. Can Peter put aside his plans for vengeance for the woman who has come to mean everything to him?

An Inconvenient Duke by Anna Harrington

Marcus Braddock, Duke of Hampton and former general, is back from war and faced with mourning the death of his beloved sister, Elise. Marcus believes his sister's death wasn't an accident and he's determined to learn the truth, starting with Danielle, the beautiful daughter of a baron and his sister's best friend. Danielle is keeping deadly secrets of her own. She has dedicated her life to a charity that helps abused women―the same charity Elise was working for the night she died. When Danielle's work puts her life in danger, Marcus comes to her rescue. But Danielle may not need rescuing...

A Duke by Any Other Name by Grace Burrowes

Nathaniel, Duke of Rothhaven, lives in seclusion, leaving his property only to gallop his demon-black steed across the moors by moonlight. Exasperated mamas invoke his name to frighten small children, though Nathaniel is truly a decent man—maybe too decent for his own good. That's precisely why he must turn away the beguiling woman demanding his help. Lady Althea Wentworth has little patience for dukes, reclusive or otherwise, but she needs Rothhaven's backing to gain entrance into Polite Society. She's asked him nicely, she's called on him politely, all to no avail—until her prize hogs just happen to plunder the ducal orchard. He longs for privacy. She's vowed to never endure another ball as a wallflower. Yet as the two grow closer, it soon becomes clear they might both be pretending to be something they're not.

[in-the-name-of-the-holy-reborn]

Match-up for Noxtis

@noxtis​ Ohay Jenny ! [Jenny sounds pretty good it makes me think of Oliver & Company’s little girl, which is also one of my favorite Disney Movie… ANYWAYS!]

I thank you for your patience, because with the event and the laziness that characterizes me well, it took me quiete long to finish it, as I said, it’s been years since I didn’t do a match-up, so I hope I understood you well and that you’ll like it !

Your match is Lancia

You two probably met before the Mukuro event and you couldn’t help but be attracted by him, he’s mature, charismatic, has a contagious smile and a big heart too. It was like a magnet-thingy between the two of you and each time one of you entered a room, the other one had to exchange some words.

The first thing that took his attention, apart from those smooth perfect hair and the playful look behind those glasses? The sarcastic comments coming from your mouth when you talked to one of his family member as he happened to be there. He heard the joke that followed, for many, an innapropriate one, but he couldn’t help but let out a snort, appreciating the cleverness and lucidity of it, he knew from that exact moment that he wanted to know you better.

It was hard for him at first to get your attention as you seemed to close yourself and out of reach, he was about to give up, until he saw you stand up for your opinion and fought your own fights to be aknowledged and rewarded for who you truely are in your own capacities, this thing that animated you convinced him to find a solution to have a chance to really exchange with you.

He felt so enrage, so overwhelmed with incomprehension each time you retired from a conversation because the person in front of you didn’t listen to your arguments or exposed theirs too vehemently. Why don’t you talk back, why have you this reaction  when what you said was so convincing, if you can’t see it yourself, then he has to let you know. He’ll help you to develop your ideas in a way other can understand you and it’ll make your life easier.

He’s, above all, a lot empathetic and so, he can listen and read people easily, which makes  a common point with you, and he has to admit he was a bit annoyed at first to be an open book to you, even if he was trying to hide all of his negative feelings for everyone's sake.  In the end, with your patience and perseverance, he came to realize that it’s quiete relieving to be able to let things go sometimes and share doubts and fears with someone he can trust.

The bother of disturbing other with bad vibes, the scare to let the negative thoughts take control and the denial of those feelings until they explode and makes you even more lost than before? He knows the feeling too well, and he’ll do everything he has in his power to help you akowledge that it’s not an healthy solution to stay like this.

He lives your apparition in his life as a real solace, and he’ll do his best to make you relay on him too.  He’ll never be pushy but let you know that you can come to him every single time you’re feeling upset with something, that you don’t have to fight alone, hoping you’ll get the fact that his doors are always open for you and he truly means it

Life goes by, things happened and the two of you lost sight of each other, you didn’t know what happened to him and the slaughter he was a victim of, but as soon as he went back to reality, you were the first person he called, and, by the sound of his voice, you knew something was wrong. You listened to him, concerned about everything and you were the one picking him up when he was released by the Vindice.

After the past year, the realtionship between the two of you grew and you soon realized you were way more affected by him than you thought you were, he’s loyal, trustworthy, he understood you like no one, and let's face it, he's pretty charming,

For him, you’re someone he can open so easily to, no unsaids, no lies, no shame, he was terrified by the idea that he let you go, if only you could be returning his feelings.. It’ll be a bit complicated between the two of you because, even if he’s well aware of your mood when you’re not feeling well, he is totally not obvious about your interest in him, and it’s the same for you so, you’ll have to make big lighthouse call to allow him to make the first step.

When you first share with him the trauma you encountered which could be a real challenge into a deeper relationship, it’s already been a long time he got it, by your apprehensions on what a relationship is/can be and your body langage. But he would have respect you and didn’t push you if he feels you uncomfortable about it, and it applies for everything.

Once in relationship, you’ll see a new side of Lancia, he’ll be more at ease and even let a playful side you never caught of him before out. You’ll also be surprised how pumped up and involved he’ll be to keep the both of you in a beneficient relationship.

Your life in the KHR! World

- You can have deep conversations with Fran and Chikusa, they both recognize your intellectual vigor and share the same pride to not be an ordinary person.

- Ken would call you «four eyes», and if he wasn’t so loud, it could have been funny.

- Haru’s freakin’ jealous of you because you can eat whatever you want and she gains some weight only by watching a piece of cake.

~

- Lancia is a very intelligent and cultivated man, he has seen a lot of thing, read a lot of book and always has interesting stories to tell, which could easily appease, if not quench your thirst of curiosity.

- Lancia loves napping with your head on his chest, as he lets his fingers run throught your hair. He even loves taking your glasses of and kiss each of the freckles on your nose because it makes you special and beautiful

- When he discovered you’re ticklish ? Good bye sweetheart because it’ll be the end of you, he’ll be a huge tease, but loving you too much, he will let you catch your breath, sometimes.

Runner-up: Chikusa Friends: Basil, Daisy, Fran Don’t get along with: Xanxus, Byakuran, Mukuro Match-up from another Fandom: Daichi Sawamura - Haikyuu

[vurde]

What Nipsey Taught Me...

Serving as both the opening and title track of his last album, Victory Lap reflects the beauty of knowing and standing firm in your greatness.

Life is a Marathon

Proclaiming without hesitation, with the words “I’m prolific, so gifted, I’m gonna be the type that’s gonna go get it. No kidding,” reminds you the listener, that his album is the culmination of a lot of hard work and necessary confidence in self. Seeds planted for more than a decade by Hussle, with his latest, reflecting all the fruit born beforehand. So what is one to gain from that?

From making his rounds on the mixtape circuit to changing the game with his albums Crenshaw & Mailbox Money where he laid claim to what he knew he was worth, Nipsey taught me that no one is going to claim it for you until you do. As he did for so many, he showed me that our greatness starts from within. You must go in and tap into, and it’s a necessity because many things surrounding us, deters us from grasping it and instead, holding on to things familiar and comfortable, even if it’s not reflective of your highest potential.

You Have to Stay Dedicated

With lyrics so vivid like “This ain’t entertainment, it’s for n****s on the slave ship, these songs just the spirituals I swam against them waves with, ended up on shore, to they amazement,” One can’t help but think about what he is saying.

When listening to the song Dedication, I find myself dissecting each cadence and word in his verses. Feeling every ounce of the truth, spoken by Hussle. His knowledge, recall of experiences and lessons learned, continually serving as a playbook of many for those on their modern-day slave ship.

Instantly feeling the urge to fall deeper into his words giving a spiritual cleansing like the power of those that led many of our ancestors to the freedom he speaks on — his words serving as a blueprint for our survivals manual. Meant to help you learn how to get over the landmines life can throw at us.

Sometimes getting us off track of connecting with our north star, the purpose Nipsey often spoke of, that serves as our reason for existence. Each of us dedicated to our path, being triumphant against our own set of waves, often turbulent and unpredictive. But as Nipsey once stated, “I’m about seeing long-term, seeing a vision, understanding nothing worthwhile happens overnight, and just sticking to your script long enough to make something real happen.” Providing this necessary reminder at times when I find myself wanting to throw in the towel and go to what’s familiar.

His lyrics about dedication, self-awareness, culture, loyalty, love of self & thy neighbor, and living a purposeful life, resonated with so many.

Live a Purposeful Life

His impact is evident in the effect he had on so many — someone who was a Movement, not just a Man.

Reflecting a movement towards finding your purpose and using it to the utmost to be able to uplift both yourself and those around you. With verses like “Spoke some things into the universe and it appeared,” Hussle sheds light on the power of manifestation and as our elders say, speaking things into existence. He expressed his truth, made it happen and ensured that part of his legacy reflected his dedication to helping his community.

Nipsey later shares his sentiments that we all must find our purpose or if not “we’re wasting air.” Having no cut cards, Hussle speaking plainly that we are here to serve some purpose. A purpose that we must all seek.

Despite how easy it is to want to take the blue pill and remain in our usual cocoon of comfort, simply put, if it’s not feeding your soul, speaking to your spirit, you’re wasting your time on earth. Now, this isn’t meaning that everyone’s purpose is to start a business, become a hip-hop artist and become the next multi-millionaire, it speaks to something a lot simpler than that. See purpose is having an intention behind your action.

Don’t be afraid to jump off the deep end, even without a life jacket

I often find myself reflecting on life after hearing the aforementioned verse. Are my steps purposeful? Doing a constant check-in on whether I’m walking in alignment with that purpose and in what ways am I still out of alignment towards that purpose.

See this album came out during a time when I began wrestling with those two questions. Am I leading a purposeful life? Am I in alignment with that purpose. As I hit a point of absolute burnout from my then-work as an HR Director, recognizing that although I was relatively young and nearly 15 years junior to my peers, the work I was doing at that time no longer fed my spirit nor many of the gifts I knew I was denying by remaining in both an environment that left me comfortably uncomfortable.

Nipsey’s verses were serving as the perfect soundtrack during my times of ideating of days where I was finally walking in closer alignment with my purpose. The more I connected with people also sharing their interest in walking more towards the light and gift they felt inside, my burning desire to determine if I could connect intentional living practices, food, and overall self-care wellness practices to help guide those of us wanting to take a pause from the daily rat race and tap intentionally into their divine spirit.

As one who spent years, getting and even living a firsthand glimpse of people who choose to dim their light for the sake of being comfortable in the status quo, I learned that every frustrating moment and hardship I faced was a blessing. For it served as a type of intel and insight meant for me to help solve a problem all too familiar and accepted.

It’s amazing how the universe will shift things for you when you become more confident going towards that light.

Run Your Own Race

As he reminds us in Blue Laces 2, “You can have it all; it’s all about your race.” The latter verse serves as a gentle nudge to remember that life truly is a marathon, not a sprint that we all must run at our own God-given pace. As the old saying is “what is for you, is for you.” Remaining anchored in that fact is one albeit, at times hard to not get deterred from that reality, one must fight hard as hell to stay self-aware and grateful for their journey, every present moment of it.

Even the rough patches, the valley’s, it is all perfectly designed for you. Sometimes finding purpose and gratitude in those moments, helps with also helping us connect with the inner power we have to shift things as Nipsey would often talk about, making a shift in the positive energy we want to give out in the universe.

All the greatness and magnificent magic that you possess from within and may desire is attainable; you have to decide to show up and get into the race. Researchers like Brene Brown categorize this as “Stepping into the Arena.” As she notes in many of her talks, it is those who decide to step into the arena who bravely declare regardless of what others may think, that they will live life on their terms and reflect the talents given to them from the creator in a way that is of service to all. She also talks about how many of us aren’t willing to step into the arena, and in exchange decide to remain on the sidelines, serving as bystanders on the road of life, at times becoming naysayers towards those choosing to step into the arena.

The Point of It All

In his final track, I felt that Nipsey shed light on the fact that We are all God personified in human form. One day, we will sit at the right hand of God. Until that day, until our last breath, we are to use every bit of our magic, our joy to glorify both his name but also to breathe vibrant life into our communities.

Whether raising your children, leading your team at work, or hustling to get your business off the ground, whatever it is, do it in a way that is tackling and speaks directly to having a lasting impact on your community. From his lyrics, Nipsey wasn’t mum to share his inner visions and divine knowledge of what our earthly existence personifies.

This thing we call life is far more significant than the existence we usually attach to it. I find myself reflecting on this the more I age, life happens, and the transition of prolific lights like Nipsey who seem to move on just a moment too soon.

Times like these make you take a moment to sit back to ask about life’s purpose. Even if we can’t quite grasp it in the here and now, there will be a time where your dope self in your human form will no longer be. As anchored in the sentiments received from LA comrade Kendrick song “Sing About Me/Dying of Thirst,” one can’t help but reflect on are you living a life that has had an impact on someone other than yourself. For those are the people who generations sing of for decades.

Who do you inspire?

Do you serve as a place of inspiration for your children, nephews, nieces, colleagues, husband, wife, partner, parents or self? Not sure? That’s ok. But begin to ask yourself that.

Reflect on whether the energy you’re putting out is positive and reflecting love for yourself and those around you. If the answer is no, begin to unravel what brings you joy. What things don’t. I’m finding that when you have the courage to slowly but surely reveal more of yourself and the pure love that I feel resides in all of us, this is when you begin to find yourself as an inspiration to both yourself and others. Even in moments when you’re not even feeling as if you are. Nipsey reflected the power of how we all are attracted to people who boldly decide to reflect so much love and light to live as their authentic self and reflect that to their community and serve as a beacon for others.

Nipsey led the type of purposeful life that, even amid the sorrow and pain we currently feel, I find joy in the fact that he left his creative genius in the form of motivational spirituals. Each album serving as a hymnal of triumph in music form of what is like being a black person, particularly a black man in America. Each available for us to connect to, as another essential survival guide to boldly jump off the deep end and swim against those waves.

Giving a nod to Jay- & Beyoncé upon the release of their album the Carters, last summer Hussle posted on IG that “The Highest Human Act is to Inspire.” I couldn’t agree with that statement more.

In his lifetime he personified this unselfish human act by inspiring many generations now and many more to come.

Rise in Power King Nipsey.