#but he was born before 1 ce !

[seesboy]

i find it so weird that the birth of jesus of nazareth is used as the marker between ce and bce. not just because it's intrinsically connected to christianity or whatever but also because he was believed to be born around 4 bce so that means it even fails in that regard. you guys had One Job and you Still fucked it up by an estimate of four years

[themultifanshipper]

Charles was shocked into silence. How could he not have noticed? He had known you for years and yet, he had never been so turned on in his life, just from hearing you speak.

Warnings: gn!reader, french!reader, cum play? GRATUITOUS amounts of french! Like half the dialogue is in french (with translation). This is entirely self-indulgent! Charles is really stupid in this I’m sorry but it’s for the plot, also he started out dominant then I decided halfway through he should be submissive, then switched back again. Barely proofread, it is 4:30am as I am writing this, sue me. There is disgusting stuff involving cum, and I’m kinda considering this crack because I can’t take french seriously.

Bon appétit, this is a wild ride my friends.

You had been working in formula 1 for most of your adult life, going from media teams to personal assistant, to lots of other jobs that finally led you to your dream job: race engineer.

Well, your dream job was really being a team boss, but baby steps, yeah?

Anyway, you had been promoted to race engineer to the one and only Charles Leclerc following the whole Xavi thing. But before that he’d known you as his assistant for a bit when his own assistant was on maternity leave, and before that you had been the media trainer for a few teams, including Sauber when he was there. He’d literally known you since his debut, and the two of you had grown very close over the years, and saw each other every week. So the fact that he could have missed something like this was embarrassing.

You were at the end of a race, going on about the tyres overheating to Charles over the radio when the car in front of him locked up and slid, forcing him to swerve and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

You gasped as you saw the car make contact. “Oh Putain, ça va Charles ?” (Oh fuck, you ok Charles?) You spoke into your headset but there was no answer, and Charles didn’t seem to be moving so you tried again “Charles, tu m’entends? Est-ce que ça va?!” (Charles can you hear me? Are you ok?)

He finally replied in a shaky voice, and you were finally able to breathe and call the staff that would go get Charles and his car off the track.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles was having a mental crisis. You spoke French?

Since fucking when?

His ears were ringing as he tried to think back your years friendship for any signs. He came up empty. He was positive he’d never heard you speak French before. And he was positive he should not be hard, climbing out of his car after a crash.

When he got back to the garage, you were waiting for him, ready to ask him how he was but before you could say anything he grabbed your arm and dragged you into the nearest room slash maintenance cupboard he could find.

“What the hell are you doing Charles?”

He locked the door and when he turned back around his eyes were dark and stormy “Since when do you speak french?” he asked.

You just blinked at him.

“What?”

He backed you up against the wall, hands either side of your waist.

“Since when” he spoke patronizingly slowly “Do. You. Speak. French.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion.

“Charles, I am French. I have a French name. I was born and raised in France! What the fuck do you mean ‘since when do I speak french’???!”

His eyes widened as he realized how oblivious he’d been.

“My dad is friends with Pierre’s parents! I started my career at Renault! I brought you wine from my family’s vineyard! Charles how-  how could you not have known?” You laughed at him as he just stood there flabbergasted at his own stupidity.

“Sérieusement? Comment?” (seriously, how?)

His brain seemed to reboot and he put his arms around you “Je suis désolé, je suis vraiment débile” (I’m sorry, I’m so stupid) he giggled into your hair.

The proximity was odd but not unwelcome, as you put your arms around him and laughed with him, inhaling his pleasant scent.

“Tu as mis du parfum? Tu sens bon. ” (Have you got cologne on? You smell good)

He groaned. “Keep talking, please” and he squeezed you tighter against him.

You laughed. “Tu sais bien que je parle toujours en français avec Pierre et Este ?” (You know I always speak french with Pierre and Este, right?)

He whimpered into your neck and that’s when you felt it.

You froze in his arms “Charles are you getting hard?”

He put his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes, both of you going cross-eyed. “I’m sorry you just sound so sexy in french” he sniffled.

This was definitely something you could get behind.

“Ouais? Tu veux que je te parle en français pendant les courses alors? (Yeah, you want me to speak to you in french during the races?)

He chewed on his lip and nodded as your hand made its way to the front of his suit to cup him over the fabric.

“T’es sûr? On voudrait pas que tu salisse la voiture, tu devras expliquer aux ingénieurs pourquoi le siège est trempé” (you sure ? We wouldn’t want you to make a mess, you’d have to explain to the engineers why the seat is wet)

He whined and his knees almost buckled, so you turned him around against the wall and unzipped his suit, dragging it down to pool around his ankles, then making quick work of the second layer, leaving him in his very damp underwear. You pulled that down as well as you got a hand around his cock and started a slow pace, teasing the tip with your thumb every now and then. He bucked his hips and whined at the dry friction.

“What’s the matter? Un peu sec?” (a bit dry?) You said teasingly.

“Laisse moi t’aider avec ça” (let me help you with that)

You got down on your knees and his eyelids fluttered as you got your lips around his tip. When you took half of him in your mouth and reached a hand up to cup his balls at the same time, he moaned and thumped his head back onto the wall.

You pulled off “Garde les yeux sur moi, Charles” (keep your eyes on me, Charles)

He did so , with much difficulty, but his eyes snapped to yours and you continued, taking him all the way to the base and massaging his balls gently. His hips bucked up a bit making you gag slightly.

“désolé, je vais pas durer longtemps” (sorry, I’m not gonna last long)

So you picked up the pace and doubled down on your efforts, as his hands flew to your hair.

It took about a minute and a half for him to come, groaning your name while he filled your mouth. He felt like his soul had been sucked out through his dick. You didn’t swallow it all though, wanting to share the load, as it were.

You got up and pulled him in for a kiss, which he gladly accepted, and it was the most disgusting, satisfying kiss you’d ever had, all teeth and spit and cum, some of it dribbling down your necks and chests.

You stayed like that for a while, basking in each other’s embrace (and each other’s mouths) before you suddenly remembered where you were.

“Charles! Don’t you have a press conference to go to?!”

“Je m’en fous, je reste là” (I don’t care, I’m staying here)

He lifted you up and carried you to the other side of the room where there was a conveniently empty shelf, where he set you down before tugging your pants down and spreading your legs to slot himself between them. He was already half hard again as he pumped himself with one hand and used the other to swipe up the cum on his and your chests, then brought his fingers to your entrance, rubbing gently before sliding a finger inside you. It didn’t take much for him to prep you and he used the excess leftover cum to lube himself up and slide into you. You keened as he pressed up into your most sensitive spots. But he just stayed there, grinding slowly into you, driving you mad.

“Please, Charles!” You begged, pronouncing his name the English way.

He cocked his head and grinned at you, and you sighed in desperation.

“S’il te plait… Charles”

His jaw went slack as he used all the energy he had left to pound into you, right in that special spot that made you see stars, over and over until you were a whining mess underneath him.

You came with a shout, back arching off the shelf and he held on to you as he followed soon after.

Charles Leclerc got a heavy fine for not showing up at the post-race conference, or the debrief, or any of his mandatory duties. Fortunately, he had enough money to pay the fine, and take you to dinner that very same night.

[misspygmypie]

A One-ce Upon A Time Celebration

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Max F x Maebry Charles and Oscar make an appearance :) Words: 1647 Request: By the lovely @landossainz "for meet and greet universe, can you write where it is Maebry's first birthday and they celebrate it with their families and friends." Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

On this special day the Norris family backyard was transformed into a fairytale wonderland. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of joyful laughter as Lando and Y/N prepared for a celebration that would mark their daughter Maebry’s very first birthday. Their chosen theme, “One-ce Upon a Time,” promised to be a magical day and they had spared no costs in bringing their vision to life.

Lando was the epitome of Prince Charming in an outfit that looked like it had been plucked from a storybook. His ensemble featured a dazzling jacket with golden embroidery, a crisp white shirt and a smile that seemed to outshine everything. He moved with pride, his heart swelling each time he glanced at his little princess.

Y/N, ever the elegant queen, was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that shimmered with every step she took. The gown was adorned with delicate embroidery of magical creatures and enchanted forests and her crown of flowers added a touch of fairytale magic. She floated through the garden, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she greeted guests and ensured that everything was perfect for their daughter.

Maebry, the star of the day, was a vision of cuteness in her stunning gown of layered yellow tulle and blue ribbons, resembling her favorite Disney princess: Snow White. Her head was topped off with a giant red bow that made her look every bit the princess she was wanting to be. Her tiny red shoes twinkled with each step she took and her face was a picture of wonder as she explored her “One-ce Upon a Time” world.

Noah was dressed as a brave knight, his silver armor shining in the sun. He had a toy sword strapped to his side and his little chest puffed with pride as he took his role as protector of his baby sister very seriously. He was the guardian of the day, always nearby to defend Maebry from any imaginary dragons or mischievous trolls that might dare to disrupt the celebration.

The garden buzzed with excitement as guests arrived to experience the fairytale wonderland. There was a “Royal Tea Party” corner where children and adults alike could enjoy tiny pastries and sip from small teacups. A “Prince and Princess” dress-up area especially made the little ones happy, they were able to pick crowns and capes to join the royal festivities. Nearby, a “Storybook Reading” nook featured comfy cushions and enchanting tales read by Y/N’s close friends, adding an extra touch of magic to the day.

Lando’s parents, who had traveled to Monaco from Bristol to celebrate their granddaughter’s special day, were absolutely besotted with Maebry. Cisca had been knitting a blanket for Maebry since before she was born. Today she was thrilled to finally present it to her granddaughter, her eyes brimming with tears of joy.

“Look at this beautiful girl,” Cisca cooed as she wrapped the soft blanket around Maebry. “I’ve been working on this for so long and it’s finally here. You truly are our little princess, darling.”

Maebry giggled as she felt the softness of the blanket, reaching out to touch her grandmother’s face. Lando’s father Adam, with a proud grin, showed off pictures of Maebry to the other guests. “Have you seen these? She’s grown so much since the last time we saw her. And just look at her in that gown!”

A group of Lando’s Formula 1 friends arrived, among them Max Verstappen with his girlfriend Kelly and daughter Penelope, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo and also Charles Leclerc who immediately started gushing over Maebry.

“Wow, Lando, she’s absolutely adorable,” Charles said as he crouched down to Maebry’s level. “Are you sure she’s only one? She’s already got her own fan club.”

Maebry’s giggles grew louder as Charles made playful faces and he gently lifted her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. “This little princess is stealing all our hearts today.”

Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate, also made a grand entrance and immediately made a beeline for the “Prince and Princess” dress-up area, where he enthusiastically took a toy crown and cape, playfully pretending to be a prince alongside Maebry.

“Look at me, I’m the prince of this land,” Oscar declared with a grin, playfully spinning around. “And I’ve got the best little princess by my side!”

Lando, watching the interaction with a smile, was surprised at first. Oscar was usually more of a quiet type but everytime he was around Maebry he turned into the fun uncle instantly. 

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Lando said eventually to the other drivers, “it means a lot to us that you’re here to share this day with us. Maebry’s been looking forward to celebrating with all of you.”

Charles waved a hand dismissively. “It’s our pleasure! We wouldn’t miss it for the world. And you know, she’s already got us all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Absolutely,” Oscar added, adjusting his crown, “she’s the real star of the show. I think we might have to make her our team’s official mascot!”

Maebry’s birthday party was in full swing and one guest was extra excited. Max Fewtrell, Lando’s best friend and Maebry’s godfather, had been eagerly waiting for the perfect moment to present his special gift. Dressed in a perfect Flynn Ryder outfit Max smiled as he approached Lando and Y/N, who was holding Maebry.

“Hey, guys,” Max called out, catching Lando’s eye. “Can I borrow Maebry for a moment?”

Y/N, not hesitating at all, gently handed Maebry over to him. “Of course, she’s been looking forward to seeing her favorite uncle.”

Max cradled Maebry in his arms, his face lighting up and everyone could see how much he adored her. “I’ve got something really special for you, little one,” he directed at the girl just as he was sitting down at a table. “It’s not every day you turn one, after all.”

He reached into a large, pink gift bag and carefully pulled out a beautifully crafted storybook. The book was bound in rich, deep blue leather with gold lettering on the cover that read, “Maebry’s Magical Adventures.” It featured illustrations of mythical creatures, enchanted forests and twinkling stars.

“Look at this,” Max said, showing the book to Maebry as she gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes. “I had this made just for you.”

Max opened the book to reveal its contents, which were not only filled with personalized stories but also featured memories of Max and Maebry together. The first few pages contained charming tales of a brave little princess who looked remarkably like Maebry, embarking on magical quests and discovering new lands. Each story was accompanied by illustrations that included subtle nods to special moments Max and Maebry had shared so far, like their first meeting or a day spent playing in the park.

On the final page was a special dedication from Max, written in elegant script:

To Maebry, my dearest goddaughter,

May this book be the start of many magical adventures. Whenever you open it, remember that you are loved beyond measure and that there is always a world of wonder waiting for you. With all my love,

Max

Max’s voice softened as he continued, “I thought this would be a great way for you to have a little piece of magic with you every night as you grow up. And when you’re older you can read the stories together with your parents. It’ll be a special keepsake from your first birthday.”

Maebry’s eyes widened in delight as she traced the gold lettering on the cover. Lando and Y/N watched and Y/N couldn’t hold back the tears from forming in her eyes. “That’s an amazing gift, Max,” Lando said. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Max looked up at his best friend, his eyes shining with sincerity. “She’s my goddaughter, after all. I want her to have something magical to remember this day by and something she can cherish as she grows up. I’ve been showering her with gifts and little surprises since she was born and I’m not going to stop, ever, but I wanted this to be extra special.”

Y/N reached out and gave Max a heartfelt hug. “Thank you, Max. It’s perfect. Maebry will treasure it forever.”

Max carefully placed the book into Y/N’s hands and she held it close to Maebry. “I hope you love it as much as I loved picking it out for you,” he said softly, giving the girl a loving kiss on her cheek.

Maebry clapped her hands with joy, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at her new book but soon Max whisked her away to rejoin the birthday activities.

As the sun began to set Lando and Y/N took a moment to themselves. They watched as Maebry played with the other kids, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Lando’s gaze, however, was not just filled with pride, it was also tinged with just a touch of sadness.

“It’s hard to believe my little princess is already one,” Lando said softly. “It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital. Watching her grow up so fast… it’s both wonderful and a little heartbreaking.”

Y/N noticed the look in Lando’s eyes and gently took his hand. “I know,” she said, her voice soothing. “It’s incredible how quickly time passes. But look at her now, she’s so happy, surrounded by people who love her. We’ve made so many beautiful memories already and there are so many more to come.”

Lando nodded, his gaze returning to his daughter as she giggled. “You’re right. Today has been perfect and I’m so proud of her. I just wish time didn’t move so quickly.”

“We can’t stop time but we can cherish every moment,” Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

________

AN: Thank you so so much for requesting this @landossainz UGH I was so excited to write this, I may have gone a biiit over the top lol! I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[whencyclopedia]

Empress Theodora

Theodora reigned as empress of the Byzantine Empire alongside her husband, Emperor Justinian I, from 527 CE until her death in 548 CE. Rising from a humble background and overcoming the prejudices of her somewhat disreputable early career as an actress, Theodora would marry Justinian (r. 527-565 CE) in 525 CE and they would rule together in a golden period of Byzantine history. Portrayed by contemporary writers as scheming, unprincipled, and immoral, the Empress, nevertheless, was also seen as a valuable support to the Emperor, and her direct involvement in state affairs made her one of the most powerful women ever seen in Byzantium.

Early Life

Theodora was born in c. 497 CE, the daughter of a bear-keeper called Akakios who worked for the Hippodrome of Constantinople. The 6th-century CE Byzantine historian Procopius of Caesarea states in his Secret History (Anekdota) that Theodora earned her living, like her mother before her, as an actress, which meant performing in the Hippodrome as an acrobat, dancer, and stripper. Theodora was said to have had one particularly lurid routine involving geese. By implication, considering the common association of the two professions at the time, she was also a courtesan. Procopius would have us believe an especially popular and lustful one, at that.

Procopius' Secret History, is, though, regarded by many as an outrageous gossip piece with a few facts thrown in for authenticity. The writer's attitude to both Justinian and Theodora is plainly that they were the worst thing ever to happen to the Byzantine Empire (in contrast to the official works he wrote under Justinian's patronage which are suitably laudatory of the emperor's achievements in war and architecture especially). Procopius also had it in for Antonina, the wife of Belisarius (Justinian's most talented general), and she is portrayed as constantly scheming with Theodora to create damaging palace intrigues. It is perhaps important to consider, too, that our knowledge of Theodora only comes from male authors and a woman performing any other role than the traditionally submissive one in Byzantine society was bound to be, at best, disapproved of and, at worst, outright demonised.

Before she married Justinian, the nephew of Emperor Justin (r. 518-527 CE), in 525 CE, Theodora left the sands of the Hippodrome to travel to North Africa as the mistress of a medium-level civil servant. After the relationship broke up, she made her way back home via Alexandria where she may have converted to Christianity.

The marriage between such a lowly figure as Theodora and a future emperor was an odd rags-to-riches one, but there was a tradition in the Byzantine court for emperors to marry the winners of beauty contests organised for that purpose. The entrants to such contests could come from lower classes and from far away provinces so such mismatches were not unheard of. The lowly status of Theodora was not ignored by everyone, and one particularly passionate opponent was Empress Lupicina Euphemia, indeed, her death seems to have removed the foremost obstacle to the marriage. Justin I even went so far as to amend the laws (senators, which Justinian was, could not marry actresses) in order to permit the marriage and to legitimise Theodora's illegitimate daughter. Procopius also claims there was an illegitimate son, too, but no other sources substantiate this.

The Empress, 20 years younger than her husband, is described by Procopius as being short but attractive, a stickler for court ceremony, and a lover of luxury. Theodora was crowned as empress in the same coronation ceremony as her husband on 1 April 527 CE. Justinian had insisted his wife be crowned as his equal and not as his consort. The pair also matched each other in intelligence, ambition, and energy, and with their lavish coronation in the Hagia Sophia, they seemed to herald a new era for the Byzantine Empire and its people.

Continue reading...

[namazunomegami]

emperor!geto x imperial concubine!reader

a/n: I’ve spent way too much time to research about chinese imperial concubines, playing with Royal Chaos during my highschool years and I had a boring shift at work. This is the result. Probably out of character as hell but hey, I wrote this for my enjoyment.

This is part 1 of a lil historical AU drabble series. I’m already finished with Sukuna, Gojo is in the works, and I got some ideas for Choso and Toji but don't think too much about it, ideas are just ideas.

I was so close to write reader as gender neutral but reader owns a type of traditional chinese headgear used exclusively by noblewomen so... yeah, reader is afab if you squint (very hard).

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, mwah <3

wc: 1011, I initally wanted a few headcannons but I got a full ass drabble

cw: suggestive, false accusations, implied murder, mentions of whipping, choking (not the kinky kind), yandere behavior

credits: renmakia for the gorgeous fanart and my dear @notveryrussian for proofreading and just putting up with my massive jjk brainrot every day, luv ya darling <33

MDNI, if you do, I'm gonna catch you like I'm gonna catch Gege.

He’s a monarch who considers his mind a weapon and information as a whetstone despite being born in relative peace. Spending his leisure time reading Sun Ce, the scripts of Confucian and Taoist scholars, sharing afternoon teas and long walks around the gardens with Buddhist priests and conversing about reaching enlightenment. As if he desperately wanted to understand how the world he was meant to rule works. His mandate of heaven brought prosperity, a flourishing economy, a strong connection between allied realms, a good education system that produced more scholars than in any other time before.

Competing for his attention is not an easy task. You almost gave up, bracing yourself for a long and uneventful life where you can only admire him from afar. You sit in the shade of a willow tree with a board of xiangqi, your playmate having left you not so long ago and you were trying to figure out which tactics and strategies they should’ve used to defeat you. You’re so lost in your thoughts you can’t notice him standing there, in the presence of his guards. You kowtow to him, excusing yourself for daring to bother him, pleading for his patience while you pack your things and leave. He likes that your manners are spot on, and he rewards you with a command to stay, to play with him, since xiangqi is a game between two people. And based on the positions of the pieces on the board you’re an experienced player.

Of course, he defeats you with ease, but he’s grateful you showed him everything you’ve got and didn’t let him win. He tells you that his victory lies in applying the teachings of Sun Ce to his playstyle. Your eyes light up and you beg him to elaborate further, maybe he can help you improve your tactics in the next game. He’s such a well-read man, so hungry for knowledge, so desperate to understand people. You’re sure he wants to figure out your thoughts too, what you think about the world, what values dominate your heart. And the secret to win him over is to shower him with all the details and even politely disagree with some of his beliefs and explain your point of view. That’s what gets him going, knowing your place in the hierarchy but not being afraid to stand your ground. Mindless obedience, at this point, bores him. That’s probably the reason why he slowly starts to favor you, your conversations refresh him, inside and outside of his bedchambers.

You may think that earning your place in his heart is a lengthy and hard process, but when he becomes sure that your infatuation comes from an honest place, he generously rewards your efforts. He showers you with gifts, each more thoughtful than the other. He sends you scripts from his personal library about topics that interest you, fulus he received from his priests to protect you and your chambers, phoenix crowns so elaborately adorned with pearls, sapphires, small dragons, and phoenixes made from solid gold. Gowns embroidered with clouds, cranes dancing around them, gifting you a small piece of the sky itself he descended from. He elevates your rank quickly so you can accompany him during events. Letting the whole court look at you, wrapped in everything he gave you, standing so close you can see him stealing glances at you from under the twelve tasseled crown. He rewards your family with money, grain, rice, political power. If he lifts you up, he does the same with everyone important to you.

But Geto’s court is highly competitive. It’s certainly not easy to be his favorite. You can literally smell the stench of jealousy eminating from the other consorts. Their gaze pierces your skin deeply when the eunuchs drag you around the Palace of Heavenly Grace with a brocade blanket hugging your naked figure. They must endure the sight every other night and they have no idea that the son of heaven is ready to serve you and do as you please behind closed doors and not the other way around, as tradition dictates.

Though he can comfort you, outside of his chambers you fear for your life. You needed a food taster now and never dared to walk the gardens without at least four guards in your proximity. You begin to doubt the trust between you and those you’ve befriended, because they can only blame you for his negligence towards them.

And then, the first accusation about you begins circulating around the palace. Some concubines claimed that you were guilty of witchcraft. So many of them are against you, with so much made-up proof you cannot do more than spend the night crying, believing that at dawn, guards will come for you and throw you into a well. You have no idea where Geto is or how you could beg him for protection.

The next day, strangely, a new set of officials deem you innocent. What boggles you even more is that he comes to your residence instead of having you delivered to him. Even his scent is not like it usually is, there’s something metallic, salty, and musky mixed in with the incense smoke.

That night he cradles you, shushing you, promising to keep you safe at all costs. Keeping it a secret how brutally he disposed of the rumor mongers, how he had some of his officials whipped bloody for not believing your testimony or about the thinly veiled threats that he’ll make anyone’s life a living nightmare if anything happened to you. Your heart skips a beat and simultaneously sinks deep in your chest when those of higher rank than you lower their head, trying their best to not look at you as they pass you by. With dark marks staining the skin below the neckline of their gowns, not even the empress consort being an exception.

It's not easy to be his favorite. It’ll never be easy.

But he’s a god, the son of heaven, and heaven will forgive him and so will you.

[cieloclercs]

𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 | chapter two

pairings: charles leclerc x senna!oc part: 2/? warnings: angst, fluff!! mini charles being cute, gabriel and noa being dad and daughter goals, lotss of google translate word count: 5.6k

SAUDADE. in which childhood rivals turned best friends realise they were always meant to be something more

02. it’s supposed to be fun

author’s note. i absolutely loved writing this chapter! the flashbacks are going to come into play a bit more in the next couple, and i’m so excited to write them! young noa and charles are just adorable 🥰 hope you guys liked this, and as always a like, comment or reblog would really be appreciated <3

read it on wattpad!

previous: chapter 1 next ➜ chapter 3

18 September 2011                                                                                      Sarno-Napoli, Italy                                                                                           KF3 CIK-FIA World Cup

TEN-YEAR-OLD ARTHUR LECLERC is bored. He’s been stood with his parents, who are talking quietly amongst themselves, for at least an hour, waiting for his older brother Charles to return. Now, Arthur loves karting as much as the next person, but when he’s not competing, it really does drag. There’s so much in-between time, where racers and their managers talk strategy, or slight mechanical changes are made to karts. Arthur never really realised it until now, when he’s got nothing to do but watch the others hurry about doing what he normally would be. It’s nothing short of tedious. And besides that, he’s annoyed – he’s only missed out on being eligible to compete in Charles’ age category by a couple of months, and to him, it seems mightily unfair that just because he’s born in October he has to stand by the wayside.

But there’s nothing Arthur can do about it now. He’s here to watch his brother race, not mope around. So, in an attempt to entertain himself, he settles for a spot of people-watching. There are always lots of interesting characters in the paddock: from overbearing fathers who seem to think just because they’ve sat in a kart before they’re now experts on the sport, to worried mothers, and even a few celebrities here and there. After all, there are some kids both he and Charles have raced against before who are the children of some pretty famous racers. It’s mostly them Arthur is keeping a look out for, but he doesn’t get his hopes up – he’s learnt that they mostly stay out of the spotlight, presumably to avoid being mobbed by a bunch of teenagers begging for autographs. He says that as if he wouldn’t be a part of that mob. Still, it’s fun to hope. Or, as fun as anything can be when he’s had absolutely nothing to do for an hour.

“Maman, quand est-ce que Charles revient?” Mum, when is Charles coming back? He asks, turning his head up to gaze at his mother, who smiles down at him sympathetically.

“Bientôt, mon petit.” Soon, little one. She assures him, running a gentle hand through his hair. Arthur tries not to huff too loudly. She said the exact same thing half an hour ago.

He turns back to his people watching, a frown knitting his eyebrows together. For a moment, he’s too annoyed to pay attention to what’s right in front of him – it goes straight over his head. Then his vision clears, and the frown lifts from his face, immediately replaced by a look of shock.

It can’t be, he thinks. Arthur breaks free of his mother’s hold to step forward on his tiptoes, craning his neck over the sea of heads. He’s sure he must have been hallucinating when he can’t pick out that all-too-familiar figure in the crowd. Disappointment rushes through him, and he rocks back on his heels again. His head turns ever-so-slightly to the side.

And there it is once more. Arthur practically jumps, as, sure enough, a little over to his left across the other side of the paddock, there is one of his greatest Formula 1 idols. Gabriel Carvalho Borges. He stands there, seemingly without a care in the world, gazing down fondly at a young girl in racing gear who is standing close to his side. There are two other people with him as well – the first, a beautiful woman, with dark curls that reach just past her shoulders; and the second, a little boy, maybe a year or so younger than Arthur himself, who is swinging off the woman’s arm excitably. Arthur assumes she must be his wife: Flávia Senna. The young Monégasque can scarcely believe it. A moment ago, he’d been bored out of his mind, but now he’s stood barely even ten metres away from Gabriel Borges and Ayrton Senna’s beloved younger sister.

“Papa!” Arthur says, reaching over to tug on his father’s arm, who is currently gazing in the opposite direction. Hervé looks down at his son with a confused smile, "Regardez là-bas ! Regarde!" Look over there! Look! he hisses under his breath in a strange sort of half-whisper, half-shout. Both Hervé and his wife glance towards where the young boy is jabbing his finger and jumping up and down excitedly.

“C’est Gabriel Borges!”

The couple glance between each other in surprise. Sure enough, the Brazilian legend is stood right where Arthur is pointing, still smiling down at the little girl on his arm. She’s chattering rapidly, stars in her eyes as she practically bounces up and down in excitement.

Hervé grins. He knew Gabriel Borges’ young daughter was competing today, but he never really expected him to make an appearance – his wife and son maybe, but not him. Honestly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t been mobbed yet. The name Borges in the Formula 1 world is almost as big as Schumacher or Senna; and considering he’s also basically a Senna by marriage, he’s got double the importance. Hervé figures it’s only because he’s with his family that he’s being left alone. The second they leave, it’ll be carnage.

“Que fait-il ici?” What’s he doing here? Arthur hisses again when neither of his parents reply. Hervé chuckles at his son, who is suddenly anxious and all over the place, glancing between them and Gabriel as if he’s scared his idol might disappear the second he turns away, but also terrified to get any closer.

"Sa fille participe à la compétition.” His daughter is competing. Hervé explains. Arthur frowns, turning back to stare at Gabriel with furrowed eyebrows.

"Je ne savais pas qu'il avait une fille." I didn’t know he had a daughter. He says aloud, but it’s mostly to himself. Hervé and Pascale glance between themselves again, sharing smiles.

"C'est une famille très privée, 'Thur." They’re a very private family, ‘Thur. His mother explains this time in a gentle voice. It’s true that the Senna Borges’ keep themselves to themselves. After Gabriel’s retirement in 2006, they’ve all but fallen off the radar. His kids, Noêmia and Luiz, who used to accompany him to almost every race possible were suddenly removed from the public eye – no doubt, for their own good, knowing the pressure that can be put upon the children of legends such as Gabriel. Yet now, with Noêmia rising rapidly through the karting ranks, it seems the family are making their way back into the spotlight a little.

"Je ne peux donc pas lui demander une photo?" So I can’t ask him for a picture? Arthur asks quietly, trying to mask his disappointment. He may be young, but he’s noticed that no one else in the paddock is approaching Gabriel, even if almost every single pair of eyes there is on him. He must not want to be disturbed while he’s with his family. Hervé and Pascale share another look, before the latter crouches down a little to press a kiss to her son’s forehead.

"Peut-être après la course, d'accord? Je suis sûr qu'il aimerait rencontrer un jeune fan comme toi." Maybe after the race, ok? I’m sure he’d love to meet a young fan like you. She says softly. That seems to do the trick, and before long, Arthur is all smiles once more, bouncing around between his parents with eyes so bright they could have held entire constellations. He’s so excited by the prospect of meeting his idol that he doesn’t even notice him walking away, the young girl in a race suit gripping onto his hand tightly. Hervé can’t help but laugh.

Across the other end of the paddock, thirteen-year-old Charles Leclerc is walking out of his garage after a few last minute inspections on his kart, ready to search for his family again. He has a good feeling about this race – it’s like everything is falling into place for him. He feels more confident than ever, that this is the year he will win the Kart World Cup.

He can picture it so vividly in his mind – crossing the finish line victorious, watching the black and white of the chequered flag fly high in the air. He’d be able to hear the other karts behind him in the distance. None of them even get close to him. He’ll take the cup as the undisputed champion, and lift it above his head on the podium, watching his family cheer him on below. Charles wants to win it just to see their smiles. They’re what makes him happiest, with every race win, and even every failure: his family are there with him every step of the way. Through hell or high water, he knows they’ll always be by his side.

Charles is so lost in his daydream that he doesn’t notice the small figure striding purposefully towards him. Seemingly, she doesn’t notice him either – she’s too engrossed in her conversation with her father to pay any mind to her surroundings. It happens so quickly Charles doesn’t even have time to look up at the person he collides with before his chest runs into her forehead. All he hears is a gasp and a thud as she’s sent flying backwards into her father’s waiting arms. He stumbles back in shock, almost tripping over his own feet, apologies already flying out of his mouth at record speed – and perhaps in jumbled languages. He’s not entirely sure.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” an angry yet childish voice breaks him out of his dazed stupor. Charles’ eyebrows furrow as he looks down at the owner of the voice. It’s a young girl, perhaps two or three years younger than him, from the looks of it, with quite possibly the fiercest scowl he’s ever seen on a person. She’s dressed in a green racing suit, with her balaclava clutched tightly in her hand. His furrowed eyebrows lift a little in surprise. He didn’t know there would be a girl competing with him.

Charles is about to open his mouth to apologise again, when he notices the helmet hovering over her left shoulder – or rather, being held, by someone much taller. It’s green, just like her race suit, with yellow highlights and, he realises with a jolt, the number 27. Then his eyes are drawn back to her suit. There’s a patch sewn on just below her ribs, where her name is written. Senna, it says, in bold white writing. It can’t be, Charles thinks.

Slowly, he lifts his eyes up, past the girl’s still scowling face, to the person who is holding her helmet, gazing at him with an apologetic smile. He feels all the breath leave his body momentarily, like its been forced out by a sucker-punch to the gut. Standing in front of him, still smiling, is one of his Formula 1 idols; a man who he’d grown up watching on the TV, who was half the reason why Charles got into racing in the first place. Gabriel Borges.

“Sorry about that, son.” He says brightly, as if they’re normal people who have bumped into each other in the street – not a legend and possibly his biggest fan, “Minha estrela, you forget your manners.” My star. He scolds the young girl gently, still stood between his arms and still scowling fiercely at Charles. Her expression shifts when she looks up at Gabriel – who Charles assumes is her father, considering how similar they look – and softens into something almost imperceptible. Adoration. When she turns to look back at the young Monégasque, her scowl is completely gone.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” she says sweetly, a small smile passing across her face. Charles thinks she should, by any right, have got whiplash from how quickly her attitude towards him changes. He’s still in a state of shock, and the breath hasn’t quite returned to his body, so all he can do is nod in reply.

The young girl looks up at her father questioningly. Gabriel shoots her an encouraging look. So next, she steps forwards, and sticks her arm out towards him, eyebrows arched expectantly.

“I’m Noêmia – uh, Senna Borges. But you can call me Noa,” she introduces herself. Charles stares down stupidly at her outstretched hand. The words Senna Borges run on a loop in his mind. Two of the greatest names in Formula 1 history, and this girl – Noa – carries both of them. And he’s supposed to be racing against her in just over an hour! How is he supposed to compete with that?

Luckily, Charles comes back to his senses before his silence can be perceived as rude. He takes Noa’s hand in his own, and shakes it gently, ignoring the anxious thoughts in the back of his mind to not do anything stupid – what if he squeezes her hand too hard and breaks one of her fingers? What a first impression injuring the daughter of his childhood idol would make. Charles drops Noa’s hand as soon as he’s shaken it, like it’s made out of hot coals. He winces at the strange look she shoots him.

“I’m – uh – Charles.” he introduces himself with a stiff nod. His eyes flicker upwards to where Gabriel is also watching him, an amused grin playing on his lips. He gulps, looking away quickly, “Charles L-Leclerc.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles.” Noa chirps brightly, “Are you French?” she enquires, tilting her head to the side curiously. He can’t shake the feeling that the way she’s looking at him, it’s as if she can see right through him. Like he’s her test subject, and she’s the investigator.

“Uh – no, Monégasque.” he croaks. Noa’s eyebrows furrow.

“Oh. As in Monaco?” she asks again. He nods, “Is that not in France?”

Charles mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. He really doesn’t know how to answer that – not without accidentally offending Noa, which, of course, would be a disaster with her father standing right there. Involuntarily, his gaze drifts towards the former driver, who, once again, shoots him a sympathetic smile.

“No, anjinho, it’s a different country.” Little angel. Gabriel tells his daughter softly, “You’ve been there before, remember?”

“Oh, right!” Noa giggles to herself, grinning up at her father in a way that makes him light up and ruffle her hair playfully. Then she turns to Charles again, her grin now a little more sheepish, “Sorry.”

“I-It’s ok.” he stammers. Somehow, he manages to muster a small smile in return, though where he gets the courage from, he’s not sure. It only seems to encourage Noa more, however, and soon enough she’s talking again. Charles catches Gabriel shaking his head fondly, as if he’s despairing with his chatty daughter, but can’t bring himself to tell her to stop.

“Are you racing today?” she asks him. He nods once, opening his mouth to add something in reply, but before he has the chance she’s talking again, “Cool! Me too! Are you fast?”

Charles’ mind stutters, trying to catch up with the breakneck speed at which this strange girl talks, “Uh – I mean, I like to think so?” he says. It sounds more like a question. He doesn’t want to appear too arrogant, not in front of Gabriel Borges, and especially not if he ends up bombing out of this race. Then he’ll seem like a complete idiot.

“Great!” Noa beams, “Then I’ll see you at the front!”

Charles’ eyebrows raise, but for some reason, he can’t help but smile a little at her confidence and enthusiasm. He can’t sense any arrogance behind her words – well, she is only young, but being the daughter of such a legendary driver can be a massive ego boost, even for a kid – and he gets the sense that she’s merely excited at the prospect of some strong competition. It’s something Charles really understands. Though he is, admittedly, a little terrified to be going up against Gabriel Borges’ daughter, he’s looking forward to the challenge he’s sure she’ll pose to him. It ought to be a good race, he thinks.

“Uh – yeah, sure.” He smiles, cautiously at first, but when Noa’s face lights up, it breaks into a fully-fledged grin. He doesn’t notice Gabriel watching them this time, too focussed instead on the young girl and the way she seems to light everything up around her when she smiles. The man smirks to himself. He makes a mental note to look for this boy’s family after the race. Noa could use a few more friends around the paddock, and it seems to him that these two are hitting it off.

Eventually, Gabriel has to cut short their conversation, conscious that if he and his daughter don’t get back to her garage soon, they might not have time to complete their usual warm-up routine and inspect her kart. Noa looks up at him, frowning disappointedly when he tells her in quiet Portuguese, that it’s time to go.

"But I want to talk to Charles.” She says quietly, the corners of her mouth turning down into a pout. Gabriel shakes his head when she looks up at him with those wide, puppy eyes – the one his wife has told him again and again she only uses on him, because she knows he’s too soft to say no to her when she does. Well, Gabriel decides he won’t fall for it this time. As much as he’s happy Noa has made a friend, right now, the race is more important.

“You’ll see him again later.” He assures her, ruffling her hair playfully. She pushes his hand away, turning back to look at Charles again with a grin. Gabriel watches the young boy’s eyes fix on her, shining brightly, as a tiny, shy smile stretches across his lips. He moves Noa forwards gently by the shoulder, directing her towards her garage. As they pass each other, she shoots Charles a small wave, which he returns.

“See you!” the young girl calls, “And good luck with the race!”

She’s too far gone when he finally finds the words for a half-decent response. He sighs, his head spinning. It’s only when both figures disappear from sight completely that he remembers – he didn’t even ask Gabriel for a picture.

Arthur is still bouncing when his older brother returns. Pascale and Hervé notice his quiet demeanour straight away, and his ashen face. Charles looks almost like he’s seen a ghost. They’d be worried if it weren’t for the faint, half-smile that rests on his lips as he looks down at the ground with glassy eyes. His parents share a look. Hervé shrugs.

Charles looks up from the ground. He’s still dazed, and still in a partial state of shock, but it’s beginning to hit him now, and he can’t help but grin. It only confuses his parents even more. Arthur is paying attention now, gazing up at his older brother with his head tilted to the side in confusion.

"Je viens de rencontrer Gabriel Borges et sa fille." I just met Gabriel Borges and his daughter. He blurts out. The reaction is immediate – Hervé and Pascale turn to look at their youngest son, who for a moment, is dumbfounded. Then, Arthur lets out a strangled shriek, so loud and so sudden that it makes Charles jump, and launches himself at his brother, mouth moving at a hundred miles an hour.

"Quoi? Vous plaisantez? Comment était-il ? Il était gentil? Tu as pris une photo avec lui?" What? Are you joking? Was he nice? Did you get a picture with him? He rushes out, all in one breath. Charles’ head begins to spin again, as he tries to pick out one thing to answer first amongst Arthur’s onslaught of questions.

“Non, j'ai oublié de lui demander une photo." No, I forgot to ask him for a picture. He says sadly.

"Quel idiot!" What an idiot! Arthur hisses, shaking his head at his older brother in disappointment.

"Arthur! Ne traite pas ton frère d'idiot!" Arthur! Don’t call your brother an idiot! Pascale scolds, glaring down at her youngest son. He looks back up at her sheepishly.

Charles turns towards his father. Hervé shoots him a grin, reaching out to ruffle his hair proudly.

"Elle s'appelle Noa." She’s called Noa. He says quietly, "Sa fille. On peut aller la voir après la course?" His daughter. Can we go see her after the race? He looks between his parents, eyes wide and hopeful. Hervé ruffles his hair again.

"Bien sûr. Tout ce que tu veux, champion." Of course. Whatever you want, champ.

13 January 2021                                                                                                Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

NOA LISTENS TO the sounds of her family’s laughter from the back garden of her parents’ beach front mansion. She dips her feet into the pool, lit up in the evening darkness with a soft blue glow. A glass of wine is nursed in one hand, and her chin is placed tiredly on the other. It’s quiet and distant – a welcome break from the energy of her aunts, uncles and cousins. Though she loves them to pieces, they can be very full on; especially on a day like today, when she has so much to think about.

Her twenty-first birthday is supposed to be one of the happiest of her life – and Noa is happy, but it feels like there’s something missing. Every year since 2018 has felt that way. Her family really are wonderful about it, always trying their best to take her mind off everything. Like today, Noa had been expecting nothing more than a quiet celebration with parents and Luiz: but they truly went above and beyond. She barely had any time to dress up before her cousins, aunts and uncles arrived, from all across Brazil. It’s a wonder they all managed to keep the surprise a secret, because knowing them (especially her uncle Thales’ kids) they had notoriously big mouths.

With the entire family gathered ready for a party, of course her father had one final surprise to truly top it all off. A brand new, scarlet red Ferrari SF90 Stradale, with her race number, 27, engraved on the side in gold. She had to fight off the urge to cry when she saw it parked outside the garage, gleaming in the sunlight like a ruby. Noa gave her father the biggest hug of all, and naturally, the next thing she did was take the car for a spin. Her Aston Martin was wonderful, but it really couldn’t compare to a Ferrari like this, one which she had only ever dreamed of owning. She felt a little guilty that she hadn’t paid for it herself, though Gabriel always did like spoiling her – so she quickly pushed the feeling aside. It was as he said to her later: seeing her smile was more than enough of a reward for him.

In short, Noa has the best dad in the world.

But despite all the lavish gifts and the time spent with her family, she still can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. There’s a hole inside her heart, left behind after that night over two years ago now, and no amount of spoiling can ever hope to fill it.

Noa remembers, when Charles had just turned eighteen, and she fifteen, they made a pact. It was after she’d been unable to travel to see him on his birthday, because of their separate races on opposite ends of the globe. It was a few weeks later that they finally saw each other again, and Noa insisted on throwing her own party for Charles. Late into the night, lying side by side under the stars, they’d promised not to miss any more major milestones in each other’s lives; no matter what obstacles stood in their way. Their twenty-first birthdays were the most important of them all, and on that night, they planned out exactly what they were going to do. Noa would be in Monaco for his with his family. She’d be eighteen by then, so they could go out drinking and dancing until the night faded with the rising sun. Charles would travel to Brazil for hers, of course – her parents wouldn’t have had it any other way, after all. He’d be part of the family for the night, until everything became too hectic, and then they’d run away, hand in hand, down the street to the beach.

Where is he now? Noa wonders. It’s been almost six years since they made that pact, but the memory of it is still fresh, and the wound his absence has created hurts like nothing she’s ever felt before. They’ve broken their promise twice over – Charles’ twenty-first being spent in Monaco, whilst Noa did everything she could to avoid him after their argument. Now she’s here, surrounded by the people who love her the most, but at the same time, utterly alone; and he’s somewhere halfway across the other side of the world, probably not even sparing a single thought to their promise.

She’s been trying so hard not to think about him lately, yet, with the shadow of the Chanel contract looming over her head, Noa has no way to avoid the memories. She knows she’ll have to face him again at some point, probably sooner rather than later if she wants this deal to go ahead smoothly.

“Princesa? O que você está fazendo aqui fora?" Princess? What are you doing out here? A voice sounds from behind her, and she turns around to face her father with a weak smile. Noa doesn’t have to say anything. Gabriel can tell exactly what’s wrong from nothing more than the look in her eye. He knew, of course, that this day would be difficult for her. In a way, it’s difficult for all of them. Charles had been like a son to Gabriel and Flávia, and a big brother to Luiz. But now he’s long gone. His and Noa’s friendship is nothing but ash, the remains of something they both unknowingly helped to burn down. They feel Charles’ absence too. Though for Noa, he knows it’s something much deeper – even if she herself hasn’t realised it.

"Só estou pensando." Just thinking. She says, her smile only weakening even further. Gabriel sighs. The noise coming from inside seems to fade out; perhaps someone has closed a door, or they’ve moved out of the living room. Slowly, he walks over to the side of the pool where she’s sat, careful not to get his Louboutin leather derbies anywhere near the lapping water.

"Sobre Charles?" About Charles? He prompts, raising an eyebrow. Noa sighs, turning to shoot him a pained look. Gabriel smiles in spite of himself. He sees more and more of his younger self in his daughter with each passing day, but this is one of the things he wishes she hadn’t inherited from him. Noa likes to think that she needs to be completely independent, to be able to control her emotions and show a calm, put-together demeanour to the rest of the world. Gabriel used to be the exact same – until he met Flávia, of course, and then he finally had someone to confide in. Not so long, Charles had been to Noa what his wife is to him: a confidant, a shoulder to cry on. Without him there, she bottles everything up, trying to act as if nothing is wrong, when in fact, that is far from the truth.

"You’re allowed to miss him, you know.” Gabriel reminds her gently; and of course she knows, but she can’t bring herself to fully accept it. Two years have passed after all. By any right, Noa feels she should be over it; she should be moving on, cherishing their friendship for what it used to be, but laying it to rest. Somehow, she just can’t bring herself to.

“Mas não quero perdê-lo." But I don’t want to miss him. She sighs frustratedly, "He hurt me. He betrayed me. I should hate him for it, not miss him.”

Noa’s fists clench involuntarily at the memory of that night, the last time she ever spoke to him. She still isn’t over some of the things he said to her. Even now, they appear in her dreams, haunting her. How could she ever be over it? But it was sadness and longing she felt before, something like mourning for her former best friend. Now it’s the familiar, scorching flame of anger. Somehow, that feels better. At least then she doesn’t have to deal with the guilt of needing someone she should have long since forgotten.  

"I don’t think you could ever hate him, Noa.” Gabriel says, almost in a whisper, but his tone is knowing. He’s more serious now, eyebrows pulled together in the middle of his forehead, forming a worried frown.

She knows her father’s words are nothing but the truth. She has never, and will never hate Charles, no matter the distance between them and no matter the hurtful words he may have said to her when she was at her most vulnerable. Noa simply can’t, even though she so desperately wants to. He still means far too much to her.

“Sim.” Yeah. She mutters. It grows darker outside, the sun finally fading completely from the sky, as the moon takes its place. Silver beams illuminate everything around her in a pale, ghostly glow. She dips her hand into the water, watching the way it ripples, all the way to the other side, carrying the light with it. In turn, Gabriel watches her. Even if she’s an adult now, he will always see Noa as his little girl, who used to cling onto his arm on race days like it was her life support. She may not need him now as much as she used to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t look out for her – especially when he can see how much she’s bottling up inside, and the rapidly crumbling façade she uses to trick the world into believing she’s fine: more than fine. It’s not healthy, and it’s bound to come out in some ugly ways if she can’t learn to cope with it.

"Você já falou com ele?" Have you spoken to him yet? Gabriel asks, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. Noa chuckles sardonically.

"Não." No. Her smile is wry and bitter as she shakes her head, "He must have been told by now.”

Gabriel hums in agreement. He falls silent for a moment, contemplating the best way to tell her what she needs to hear without her flying off the handle at him – as often seems to be the case when Charles is involved.

“Noa…” he begins, trailing off as he waits a moment for her to look at him, “You really need to think about going to see him.” he says with a faint grimace. Noa’s eyebrows immediately knit together into a scowl, but he’s speaking again before she has the chance to interrupt, “I’m not saying you should forgive him, or anything like that. But you two need to at least settle your differences on the surface; talk things through. Or it’s going to be a difficult season for the both of you.”

That’s the annoying thing about having Gabriel Borges as a father – he’s almost always right, and Noa knows that full well. She’s been battling with the idea of seeing Charles again for almost a month, an idea that, quite honestly, makes her feel sick to her stomach; then along Gabriel comes, voicing the words she’s been trying to push to the back of her mind ever since she found out about the Chanel contract. Noa can’t ignore the fact that he’s right. Even if it’s painful, she needs to talk to Charles.

"Eu sei, papai." I know, dad. She replies, just about managing to muster a small, reassuring smile. "Estou trabalhando nisso." I’m working on it.

Gabriel looks to his daughter proudly, automatically reaching over to ruffle her hair. In her youth, she’d never attempted to push him away; yet even if she does now, he knows the gesture is just as comforting as it always used to be. It’s grounding – a reminder that he’ll always be there for her.

Happy in the knowledge that he’s managed to get through to her, Gabriel struggles slowly to his feet. Noa makes no move to follow him, but he’s ok with that. He understands that she might need some time to herself to think everything over, and he’s more than happy to give her that, as long as at the end of the day, she makes the decision that is right for her.

“Promise me you’ll talk to him.” Gabriel says finally, just before he begins to walk away. It’s more for confirmation than anything else, just to hear the words from her own mouth. He knows if she says them now, she’ll mean it. Noa has never once broken a promise she’s made him, and though this is something far more consequential than usual, somehow Gabriel knows this isn’t about to be the first time.

It’s dark, but he’s sure he sees the ghost of a smile – a true, genuine one – pass across Noa’s lips.

“I promise.”

This time, she fully intends to keep it.

liked by landonorris, neymarjr and 745,832 others

noasenna not to contradict mother (@/taylorswift I LOVE YOU) but turning 21 IS pretty fun 💗

mãe e pai - obrigada pela melhor festa surpresa de todos os tempos! eu amo vocês <3 / thank you for the best surprise party ever! i love you guys <3

outro agradecimento especial a @/gabrielborgesoficial o melhor pai do mundo por me surpreender com o carro dos meus sonhos! vou cuidar bem dele 🫡

another special thank you to the best dad in the world for surprising me with the car of my dreams! i’ll take good care of it 🫡

view all comments…

lewishamilton Feliz aniversário, Noa!

noasenna obrigada, lew! 💕

brunamarquezine Espero que você tenha tido um ótimo dia, querida xx / Hope you had a great day, lovely xx

noasenna obrigada, bru! sinto sua falta 🥹 / i miss you

gabrielborgesoficial Somente o melhor para minha princesinha ❤️ / Only the best for my little princess

noasenna aww pai 🥺 eu amo você 🫶 / i love you

gabrielborgesoficial Eu também amo você xx / I love you too xx

username STOP they’re adorable 😭

pierregasly Happy birthday!

*noasenna liked this comment

username omg pierre’s here! can we get charles next??

luizsenna feliz aniversário, feioso 🙄 / happy birthday, ugly

noasenna obrigada, babaca 😚 / thanks, asshole

username HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

gabrielborgesoficial Feliz aniversário para nossa linda garota 😘 - mãe e pai / Happy birthday to our beautiful girl - mom and dad

noasenna vocês são os melhores 💓 / you guys are the best

username my favourite f1 family 🥹

izav_borges legal nos estados unidos? vá rasgá-looo 🍾🍾 / legal in america? go tear it uppp

noasenna sim, senhora 🫡 / yes ma’am

eloisaalves feliz aniversário 💖

noasenna obrigada, lísa! 🥰

raffaella_diangelo happy birthdayy ❤️ see you soon! x

noasenna thank you, raffa! i knew you’d miss me 😏

raffaella_diangelo don’t push it

username you’re telling me gabriel bought her a custom ferrari sf90 stradale as a surprise as if it doesn’t cost well over £500,000 😭

username fr…how can i trick them into adopting me?

username every year i pray for a charles interaction and every year i’m disappointed ☹️

taglist: @harrysdimple05 @ricciardosheart @azxulaa @dakotali @hopingforpeace @flowerchild-96 @destourtereaux @wordsthatwaterflowersinyoursoul @luckyladycreator2 @roseamongthorns13

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[goldrushenthusiast]

The Hunger Games characters have some unique names based on many cultures we've lived in today.

What's your favourite character names from THG world? What's their names meaning?

Bonus questions :

If you're a fanfic writer writing about characters who lives in Panem, what's their name gonna be?

If you're a reader, what's a name you read in a THG fanfic that stuck with you?

Thank you, @curiousnonny

Got to be Sejanus. By far who his name is based off of and who is is just…perfect.

Copied straight from the Wikipedia page, the very first paragraph;

“Lucius Aelius Sejanus (c. 20 BC – 18 October AD 31), commonly known as Sejanus (/sɪˈdʒeɪnəs/),[1] was a Roman soldier, friend, and confidant of the Roman Emperor Tiberius. Of the Equites class by birth, Sejanus rose to power as prefect of the Praetorian Guard (the Roman imperial bodyguard), of which he was commander from AD 14 until his execution for treason in AD 31.”

Like ok come on now Suzanne at least make me have something more to interpret!!

What’s interesting about him though is the fact that he is district born, and as we see in Katniss, Gale, Primrose, Madge, Mayfair, Carine (Katniss’ mom), Rue, Delly, and any non career district, district kids typically have fairly normal names or names related to their districts (Reaper the farming name from D11, Coral & Mizzen, sea & ship names from d4). While their names still have something to do with their character, they make more sense with district kids and are less obvious (will explain later).

However, with Sejanus, he was born in district two. His parents were from district two. Strabo even can be related to Strabo’s character but that’s for later.

Sure, it can be argued that district two is a career district, but Katniss & Coriolanus’ accounts together hint that this process took decades to be sure of and to really benefit from. District two would be a bit better off after the first revolution, but not much.

I just find it funny it’s so clear with Sejanus what he was always meant to be.

Strabo’s name is a bit more a stretch, but Strabo was an Ancient Greek geographer. He was mostly known for being, and I quote;

“historian whose Geography is the only extant work covering the whole range of peoples and countries known to both Greeks and Romans during the reign of Augustus (27 BCE–14 CE)”

He specialized in geography. District two is full of mountains (that Ma loves), and he literally moved his whole family. As I said, a bit of a stretch, but still there’s SOMETHING there.

Even the family’s last name, Plinth, means a heavy base supporting a statue or vase. Every part of Sejanus’ name includes some type of support, and it’s so apparent with just one google search. I love it, and we know so much about his character so it’s easier to make these inferences than it will be with the Ring Twins or Remus Dolittle, yet I will. This answer might have to be two parts lol.

Now onto other characters that we know just a bit better: Tigris, Persephone, Iphigenia, Vipsania, Arachne, and saving last for last, Coriolanus.

Firstly; Tigris! Tigris was the easternmost river out of two that defined Mesopotamia, one of (or maybe the) the earliest civilizations/cultures, dating back to 14,000 BC as the time period when people originally started settling. Because I’m not here to give a history lesson I’m not gonna explain the importance of a river to a civilization, but I went through 6th grade geography and suffice to say she was important as hell.

Tigris was believed to have been created by the God Enki, the Sumerian god of knowledge, crafts, and creation among other things. Tigris is continually proven to be resourceful, creative, and gives very much DIY girlie vibes, which sound a lot like Enki.

As I said before, the Mesopotamian region was one of the first civilizations. Many have theorized that mankind as we know it wouldn’t exist without Mesopotamia, and what would Mesopotamia not exist without? Tigris.

Tigris provided opportunities for the Mesopotamian region (Coriolanus) to grow, get stronger, become innovative, and provided for them. If that doesn’t scream Tigris I don’t know what does.

Now, Persephone! My favorite capital names are the ones from Greek mythology (I am a Percy Jackson fan page) or ancient mythology, because it’s less work to find connecting factors. Honestly I had no clue who Sejanus was, I just googled his name, and my mom is a Shakespeare fan which is how I know Coriolanus.

Anywho, for y’all who are normal, Persephone was the daughter of the farming/harvest goddess who was kidnapped by the death god. All versions of this myth agree on that. Some say that it was part of a deal with Zeus that Hades (the death god) knew about, but Demeter (farming/harvest goddess) didn’t. Of course these are definitely a very simple and quick way to describe Hades & Demeter, but it gets my point across.

The funny thing is, we don’t know much about Persephone in canon. I don’t know if Suzanne did this on purpose like she clearly did with Sejanus, but I find it interesting that whenever Persephone Price is brought up, so is cannibalism.

See, Nero Price, Persephone dad and Coriolanus was the main example that Coriolanus used to show how bad things were during the war. Coriolanus and Tigris saw him one snowy evening sawing off the leg of a maid with a large knife, wrapping it in the skirt from her waist, and going on his way. It makes Coriolanus question if he could ever be seen as edible, which is kinda funny to me lowkey, but the whole scene is on page 31-32.

Persephone. She is literally torn between the harvest (farmers food & stuff) and the underworld, the realm of the dead. Part of her myth is she stays there for 3 months and in the realm of the living for the other 9 because she ATE 3,pomegranate seeds. She ate something she wasn’t supposed to. Let me also mention, in different versions of the myth she wanted to leave or didn’t. When Festus and Persephone are getting close, Coriolanus questions if Persephone ever knew what was on her plate.

Now Iphigenia!! If y’all didn’t remember Persephone, I doubt yall will remember Iphigenia, as I only did combing the list of names Coriolanus had for interesting ones and finding her. She’s a very minor character- we don’t know much about her hobbies or likes and dislikes or her personality. But I’ll get to TBOSAS Iphigenia in a second.

I’m sure of y’all at least know the Trojan war. If anyone studied it specifically, you probably know Agamemnon. Here’s the paragraph explaining the story from Wikipedia;

“In the story, Agamemnon offends the goddess Artemis on his way to the Trojan War by hunting and killing one of Artemis' sacred stags. She retaliates by preventing the Greek troops from reaching Troy unless Agamemnon kills his eldest daughter, Iphigenia, at Aulis as a human sacrifice. In some versions, Iphigenia dies at Aulis, and in others, Artemis rescues her.”

You’re probably wondering, “wow, what could such a minor character have to do with that tale?”

When I say we get very little from her, I mean it. I don’t mean we get very little from her in the same way as I do when talking about Festus, or any other classmates. We know she doesn’t know if district 5 girl’s (her tribute’s) name is Sol or Sal (it’s Sol).

There’s one piece of information on her that stands out though. I’m going to paraphrase Coriolanus on page 252 when I say this- “her father oversaw food stuff in Panem, but she always looked almost malnourished. Clemensia had once said it was the only revenge she could take on her father but didn’t give any other details,”

boy oh boy. Because of this one, small little paragraph, Iphigenia has always interested me. When Clemensia doesn’t give any other details, she means it. NO details appear afterwards and Iphigenia is maybe mentioned once ever again. Trust me, I know. Every time I reread TBOSAS I look for different things, which is part of the reason I reread it sm.

We never know why Iphigenia takes revenge. We never know anything about her relationship with her father. There are so many possibilities (abuse, Iphigenia the rebel, etc), and considering her namesake’s issues with her father it’s just crazy the amount of detail Suzanne put into such a minor character.

Next, Vipsania- there’s actually not much I can say about her, I just thought it was a funny coincidence this is what came up when I googled her;

“Vipsania Agrippina (/ˌæɡrəˈpaɪnə, -ˈpiː-/; 36 BC – 20 AD) was the first wife of the Emperor Tiberius.”

Two things- first, recognize what emperor she married? Yep! Tiberius- aka the emperor Sejanus was a friend and confident of. I think Suzanne might’ve gone down a Tiberius rabbit hole, because her last is familiar as well- Professor Agrippina. She was the gym teacher, and Sejanus’ mentor. This little circle of names and relations is just funny to me is all, although there’s not much on VA in history or much to say about Vipsania.

Arachne!!! Gosh I love her. Well, I love how plain the connection is between her character in TBOSAS and her character in mythology. Really she’s pretty disrespectful and a jerk in both lol.

In Greek mythology, Arachne is a woman-turned spider, the first spider. Arachne believed she could win a weaving competition against Athena, goddess of crafts, because of how beautiful her work was and how much everyone complimented her.

Athena, hearing this hubris, disguised herself as an old woman and told Arachne not to boast like that. Arachne then challenged Athena, and told the old woman the only reason Athena hadn’t gone against her herself was she was too scared.

Of course Athena then revealed herself, and they battled. Athena’s weaver thing showed the Greek gods doing good stuff, Arachne’s showed the gods in their most unfavorable aspects. Due to this disrespect, and in some versions because it was better (tho I personally don’t believe that), Athena turned Arachne into a spider so she could weave forever.

The pride?? The taunting until it becomes serious?? The permanent change?? The rage that prompted the act?? Arachne as Arachne is the most perfect name on here, because who else would she be?? Another great one of Suzanne’s names. Genius.

Before we get to the last name, Coriolanus himself, let me point out I have no district people on here. Let this show just how interesting Strabo & Sejanus’ names are.

Finally!! The last one!! Coriolanus.

Coriolanus is actually quite disappointing compared to Sejanus or Arachne, but there’s still something here so I’m going to paste the Wikipedia on Coriolanus, the man Shakespeare based his play after & what happened in the play.

“Coriolanus is the name given to a Roman general after his military feats against the Volscians at Corioli. Following his success he seeks to be consul, but his disdain for the plebeians and the mutual hostility of the tribunes lead to his banishment from Rome. In exile, he presents himself to the Volscians, then leads them against Rome. After he relents and agrees to a peace with Rome, he is killed by his previous Volscian allies”

Now, unlike many of these other characters, Coriolanus’ relationship to his namesake mirrors his relationship to another character (Lucy Gray) more than his personality.

Coriolanus wants to be with Lucy Gray, but eventually due to his hatred of the districts and love of the capital, he ends up turning against her. He starts out wanting to help her, yet his own disgust only ends up hurting him.

Coriolanus is eventually killed by his former allies, what he’s created. That’s what happens in the original hunger games series. When Coin does the faked bomb drop, everyone he worked so hard to make love him turn against him quickly. He revolutionized the capital and they turned against him.

He almost changed his own feelings about district people and it ended up almost taking his life and career.

Help I forgot there was another part to the question 😭. Anywho if I was gonna write some, I’d probably just use random names or if I had a really good and accurate name (or totally opposite name) from mythology or a poem or something I’d use that and make it correspond to the character.

This is embarrassing, but a lot of the names from crimson rivers, a hunger games/marauders au stuck with me! Nothing specific, but anything that wasn’t a marauders character always made me go “huh! I like that!”

In conclusion though, Suzanne is a genius. As I said, I might have to reblog this later with more names if I ever think of any. This is probably my most researched answer, due to all the mythology and Wikipedia searches I had to do, so sorry that it took longer! Usually I just remember things and explain them lol.

Thank you for the question @curiousnonny, and as always, feel free to debate in the comments/reblogs but please don’t argue. I always enjoy answering and dissecting questions, so anyone feel free to ask!

[elliottjpg]

OCs de La Quête d'Ewilan

Ewilan's Quest OCs

Hey guys, guess who has two new children!!! (well, one and a half. Ewel has actually been hanging out in the back of my mind for a couple years.)

Luce: Shadowalker apprentice (kinda like a ninja but not really)

Ewelliottan: Analyst, a scholar studying the theory of magic (because she is crap at the practice)

///

Luce, expliquant le concept de greffe à Ewel: Par exemple, Jorune Aénandra avait une greffe qui le rendait nyctalope. Ewelliottan, sans réfléchir: JE SAVAIS BIEN QUE C'ÉTAIT UNE SALOPE!!!!!! Luce: Luce, sortant un carnet et un crayon: Fascinant. Dis-m'en plus.

Ewelliottan: Sur une échelle de "Non mais allô quoi" à "Tu es triste? Arrête", comment tu te sens aujourd'hui? Luce: Quelque part entre "Coup d'boule, rien à faire" et "Il est lent, ce lait"; mais pour donner une réponse définitive je dirais "Mange tes morts". Et toi Ewel? Ewelliottan: Un bon "Macron, explosion." Salim: Je croyais comprendre le français, visiblement j'avais tort.

///

(More character info in English under the cut!)

I'm aware that most people familiar with Ewilan's Quest speak French, but I am writing this in English for accessibility reasons. For folks who don't know the books: it is set in Gwendalavir, a country in a world parallel to Earth. Shadowalkers are an elusive guild of ninja-like people with a strong focus on freedom and communion with nature. Designers are people who have the gift of Drawing, which allows them to temporarily will things into existence.

This is set some ten to fifteen years after the events of the last book; Gwendalavir has tied economical and cultural relations with France thanks to Bruno Vignol. Most Alavirians are aware of the existence of the other world, and although unrealistic, for plot reason the existence of Gwendalavir is more or less common knowledge on Earth.

Luce Pezal

He's a Shadowalker apprentice, Salim's apprentice specifically (I wasn't gonna give him to a canon character at first, but I didn't feel like creating a whole-ass OC to be his master, so Salim now has to deal with him.) He is a very cheerful and friendly guy, with a rather nonchalant demeanour - he has elevated not giving a fuck to an art form.

He grew up in Al-Vor in a family of merchants, moved to the capital Al-Jeit to try and do something with his life, did a lot of small jobs trying to find something he liked, and ended up working as a stable boy in the stable that Salim frequents. Luce has always been fascinated by Earth, and latched onto Salim the second he heard he was from there. After some time Salim realized that Luce had the potential to make a good shadowalker, and offered to take him as an apprentice.

Their master/student relationship is a little unusual, as 1) they are both adults with only a 10 years difference, 2) they were already friends before Luce became a shadowalker, and 3) Luce's friendliness and nonchalance look like disrespect toward his master (they aren't). He knew close to nothing about shadowalkers before meeting Salim, so he is utterly unfazed about the fact that his master, great-master and great-great-master are all legends in the guild's eyes.

Luce highly dislikes fighting (although he fights very well); unfortunately for him, he is often targeted by thugs who think he'll be an easy mark because of his missing right hand (he was born without one). He'll avoid blades as much as possible, preferring to fight bare-handed or use cunning instead. He is great at sleight of hand and lockpicking.

He's around 20-23 years old, and he's gay.

Ewelliottan "Ewel" Ar'son

Ewelliottan was born on Earth to a French mother and an Alavirian father. Her parents own a convenience store. She went to Gwendalavir on a study program, and decided to stay there to study the gift of Drawing and become an analyst. She has a very small affinity for Drawing, but far from enough to be a proper analyst, so she compensates it with encyclopedic knowledge of Drawing theory. She is fascinated by all Drawing-adjacent unexplained phenomena, like hiatuses, the Eye of Otolep, the history of Al-Jeit and Al-Poll, variations of the gift, etc. If she could study Mathieu Gil'Sayan under a microscope she would.

She's seen as eccentric by her colleagues; she can spend weeks nose-deep in books in the depth of the Al-Jeit Academy's library, and talk anyone's ears off about Merwyn Ril'Avalon (in time she'll become the country's leading expert on him). Rather than doing analyses of Designers' gifts, she works as a researcher. She occasionally gives conferences or classes, and her students find her either riveting, or boring as hell, with no in-between.

She has some Faëls in her ancestry; the only consequences are slightly pointed ears and a tendency to tan very quickly. When she was little she wanted to become a shadowalker; she thought that her Faël blood would give her an advantage, but it turns out it very much doesn't, and she hates exercising.

She's a little older than Luce, by 3 or 5 years (I haven't decided yet). She's bisexual, and non-binary, in a "none gender with left girl" kind of way.

(There's a few other pics of her here!)

Luce and Ewel

Luce and Ewelliottan met on a solo mission as part of Luce's training. Salim had met Ewel through his wife Ewilan, who frequents the Academy in her Sentinel job. He found out that Ewel was going to Al-Far to give a conference, so he offered Luce's services as an escort for the trip, as the roads and the city aren't safe. Knowing Luce's fascination for Earth, and Ewel's origins, he thought they would get along well. What he hadn't expected was for them to come back with friendship bracelets, three hundred inside jokes, and probably a blood pact.

While Luce is not supposed to share shadowalker knowledge with anyone outside of the guild, he does tell Ewel a lot about his training, in exchange for knowledge about the other world. Ewel taught Luce Earth slang, and Salim is both confused and mortified because he hasn't set foot on Earth in like twenty years and doesn't understand anything they're saying.

[jeannereames]

So I know you were the historical consultant for the Netflix "Alexander: Making of a God." I just read a post that said this, and wondered if you can comment on it?

"Btw, not the documentary commented by professors in history and archeaology, saying Stateira, wife of Darius III, died giving birth to Alexander's son (and that Alexander rubbed it in Darius' face) because Plutarch - who was born 369 years after Alexander's death - said so. Other sources invalidate this theory (like the age of the child, being 4 to 7 years old when Stateira died, meaning he was already born when Alexander first met her). And other sources say Alexander only met her once, when he took Darius' camp and that was it.

However her daughter Strateira II (who might have been Barsine or her sister) did marry him but had no children with him.

He had 1 known son from Roxana, that's all. That's in part why his empire was so easily taken apart by his diadochi.

So I don't know why, except for drama) they went for that version nor why the professor corroborate it when it's the least likely."

Yes, this quoted bit suffers from some mix-ups. I’ve not seen the full post, although I have read a few others with similar misunderstandings. Most of these seem to arise from reading (bad) online potted entries about Statiera and/or Alexander. At least go for Heckel’s Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great or The Oxford Classical Dictionary. Anyway, apologies if the below sounds overly critical. It’s obviously not personal. I’m just cutting through the confusion.

We’re told about Statiera’s death only by Plutarch, Justin, and Curtius, and all probably owe to the lost source Kleitarchos. Even if Plutarch isn’t (technically) part of the vulgate while Diodoros is (who doesn’t mention it), Plutarch still used some of the same sources. (Diodoros no doubt left it out as part of his typical telescoping.) Yet all three disagree on the cause of her death, even if they do agree it wasn’t long before Gaugamela and Alexander gave her a sumptuous funeral. But the timing means, if she were pregnant, it couldn’t have been Darius’s child. I’ve discussed Statiera’s possible pregnancy before, so won’t again here, but it boils down to: if not Darius, it had to be Alexander. He wouldn’t have let anybody else touch the Queen of Persia.

In any case, ALL our surviving sources are late. The OP doesn’t seem aware the other source alluded to (Curtius) dates to the same period as Plutarch: late Julio-Claudians/early Flavians.* I checked Wikipedia, which gives a date for Plutarch’s birth (46 CE); I assume that’s where the OP got it, as it lines up with their estimate of “369.” But we don’t know his birth year except during the reign of Claudius after the acquisition of Britain and that he died early in Hadrian’s reign (see Lamberton 2001, 1). Anyway, Curtius probably lived a little before him, and Justin somewhat after.

Ergo, none of these sources are any closer to Alexander’s day, and trying to say one is less reliable than the other based on their dating only underscores the OP’s unfamiliarity with them.

Justin and Plutarch suggest Statiera died from complications related to pregnancy. Plutarch (30.1) says she died giving birth, while Justin (11.12.6) calls it a miscarriage. Only Curtius (4.10.18-19) says she died of, essentially, exhaustion. That’s the “other sources” the OP mentions, not realizing it’s just one. Only in Curtius do we hear about a young son of Darius named Ochus. The OP seems to have conflated that child with the baby born before Gaugamela. Looking at Wikipedia’s entry on Statiera, it mistakenly calls the baby that killed her a boy, but in fact, Plutarch doesn’t say (ἀποθανούσης ἐν ὠδῖσι). Again, a good example of why Wikipedia is unreliable as a resource.

In any case, these are two different children, and there may not have been a son. Either Curtius made him up or Alexander quietly did away with him not long after their capture, as the child disappears from Curtius after and is never mentioned by other sources, which might not be a surprise. But I’m a bit more inclined to think Curtius simply invented him as part of his “Good Alexander” pre-Gaugamela narrative arc. Ochus is used as a comparative to his father (3.12.26). The son is unafraid of Alexander and lets him pick him up while the father lost his nerve and fled the battle. See what Curtius did there?

In addition, Barsine/Statiera, not just Roxana, was pregnant at ATG’s death, which is why Roxana offed her. And there’s the supposed bastard, Herakles, from Barsine, Memnon’s widow. So, the OP is missing a couple (possible) kids who Alexander also fathered.

They seems to assume drama is the reason for the choice to make Statiera his lover. This, I’d like to address, as I happen to know why they did do it, and it’s something I support.

They were very, very interested in the fact Persian women had authority, and wanted to portray them as strong, even as advisors to their husbands (which they were). That becomes Statiera’s role with Alexander, too. This is part of their larger goal NOT to portray the Persians as just fall-guys for Alexander. Because they couldn’t show all the women—both for reasons of cost as well as to avoid confusing viewers with too many unfamiliar names/people—they settled on Statiera as representative, axing Barsine as his mistress, and Sisygambus as well. Statiera’s pregnancy, which is present in the sources, added context, not just “drama.” Historically speaking, it suggests the Chivalrous Alexander trope in both Plutarch and Curtius is more mythos than Realpolitik. Although see my earlier post on Statiera’s pregnancy, linked above. I don’t necessarily assume Alexander raped her.

--------------------------------------

* If an earlier date for Curtius is correct, then he was active under the later Julio-Claudians and may have written his history during the reign of Claudius—the same emperor under whom Plutarch was born. The Lives are later works, so probably date to the Flavians, or even Trajan. For more on Curtius, see Elizabeth Baynham (1988) and for Plutarch, Robert Lamberton has a more recent study (2001) than Hamilton’s classic commentary (1969).

[taraljc]

Finished 'Avalon' parts 1-3, and David Warner is just so delightful chewing scenery as if his life depends on it. All my lovely magic... needs to be one of my notification sounds on my phone. Although every time I watch it and the Archmage says 'I've waited a thousand years for this' I'm like bitch wtf it has been 2 hours.

As always Jeff as the Magus made me cry, though I continue to believe since he died in Arthur's Hollow Hill with Avalon's magic coursing through it and him, that he's just sleeping.

I still have no idea how or why The Archmage decided that Macbeth and Demona should be his soldiers particularly since like how the hell does even know Macbethad mac Findláech in 975 CE, 30 years before he was even born? I was not aware of the eye of Odin or the Grimorum foretold the future... every time I watch part 3 my brain hurts. Greg does love his predestination paradoxes, tho.

I think my favorite little moment will always be the apples falling from the tree as Arthur shatters Macbeth's sword and pins his duster to the tree with the hilt. they never talk about Avalon being the Isle of Apples on the show, but I love that they remembered it.

Also Kath Soucie I loved you since Minx on Jem and I always will but that is not how you pronounce geas (although I'm sure Brynne and Lydia did their best trying to make that rhyme work).

How does one pronounce geas? As the fabulous inestimable @petermorwood has said:

G is hard = “golf”, ea = “sea”, Irish terminal s = “wash”. The proper pronunciation is “geesh” like Sean Connery describing several large waterfowl.

A geas is a binding. Sometimes it's an obligation, sometimes it's a curse. This is very clearly illustrated in the Ulster cycle where Cú Chulainn murders his only child due to the geas he himself placed on the boy at his birth.

(I have a lot of very strong opinions about Cú Chulainn, mostly distilled into the short story Mórrígan which I wrote for Yuletide one year.)

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: AN INTRODUCTION TO HADITH: Part 12

Avoiding Innovation

It is related that Aisha, may Allah be well pleased with her, said that the Messenger of Allah, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, said:

“Anyone who introduces an innovation in this affair of ours which is not part of it, that will be rejected.”

One version in Muslim reads:

“He who does an act which we have not commanded will have it rejected [by Allah].” (Sahih al-Bukhari, Sulh, 5; Sahih Muslim, Aqdiyya, 17, 18. See also: Sunan ibn Majah, Muqaddima, 2).

NARRATOR

Aisha

Aisha was a very intelligent woman who learned how to read and write at a very young age. She never forgot anything that she had learned and memorized.

The most important point in relation to the Prophet’s marriage to Aisha was it's being contracted through the direct commandment of Allah.

The Messenger of Allah loved Aisha greatly. When he was asked, “Who do you love most?” he replied, “Aisha.” When he was then asked, “(What about) from among the men?” he said, “Her father.”

Aisha was born nine years before the Emigration, in the city of Mecca. She passed away on the seventeenth day of Ramadan (676 CE), on a Tuesday, in Medina.

EXPLANATION

Innovation in religion is referred to in Islam as bid’a.

1. Allah declares the following in relevant Qur’anic verses:

“…What is there, after the truth, but error?” (Yunus 10:32).

This verse demonstrates that there is no connection between truth and being on the wrong path. What behooves the human being is to be on the side of and in the way of truth. All kinds of innovation in religion and every fabricated thing that does not have its basis in Islam is deviation. Deviation of all kinds has been deemed unacceptable.

“…We have neglected nothing in the Book…” (al-An’am 6:38).

Some scholars have asserted that implied in “the Book” is the Qur’an. This is because none of the proofs and obligations necessary for human beings has been omitted therein.

“…And if you are to dispute among yourselves about anything, refer it to Allah and the Messenger” (an-Nisa 4:59).

Solutions contravening the criteria espoused by Allah and His Messenger and which violate the truths of the Qur’an and the Sunnah lead the human being and society to an impasse. Individuals and even broader society come to believe, at times, that the most perfect solution lies in their self-discovered and tried paths, methods, and systems. They can even convince others of this also. Finding the resolutions to such great issues, however, is only possible through appeal to Allah and His Messenger, and through putting the Qur’an and the Sunnah into practice, without oversight, and free from any innovations.

This hadith constitutes one of the most important foundations of Islam. Anything that does not rest upon the Book and the Sunnah cannot be accepted. Such a thing cannot be considered to be part of religion. Those who disregard the worship and deeds befitting the Qur’an and the Sunnah, lessen or alter them and who thus manipulate (corrupt or distort) religion are also innovators in religion. Their deeds too are rejected and are on no account accepted.

Innovation (in religion) is that which does not have a basis in and which cannot be reconciled with the Qur’an or Sunnah and which has no application in the Muslim community. Here, however, it is used to mean the fabrications put forward in religion without an authoritative source. Rendering inactive the Qur’an and Sunnah or neglecting them breeds innovation and gives rise to their fostering and thriving. In that case, the sole way of preventing innovations in religion is to spread the culture of the Qur’an and Sunnah and to prepare the grounds for these to become a way of life. That being the case, how must innovations be understood?

According to Imam Shafi’i, innovation is of two kinds:

“Anything that contravenes the Qur’an, the Sunnah, the learned consensus, and the way of the Companions is a deviatory and evil innovation; those things and good practices that do not contradict these are good innovations.”

This is the reason behind the use of the terms bid’a hasana (good innovation) and bid’a sayyi’a (evil innovation). Shafi’i substantiates this with the words of Umar who responded to a group of Companions performing the Tarawih Prayer particular to Ramadan in the congregation, remarking, “What a good innovation this is!”

2. The Messenger of Allah said the following in relation to good and evil innovation:

“Whoever introduces a good practice that is followed after him, will have the reward for that and the equivalent of their reward, without that detracting from their reward in the slightest. Whoever introduces an evil practice that is followed after him, will bear the burden of sin for that and the equivalent of their burden of sin, without that detracting from their burden in the slightest.” Sahih Muslim, Zakah, 69. See also: Sunan an- Nasa’i, Zakah, 64.

The Companions undertook a great many things that were not in question during the time of the Prophet and reached a unanimous consensus regarding their acceptance and legitimacy. The Qur’an’s being compiled into book form during the caliphate of Abu Bakr and duplicated and distributed to various regions during the caliphate of Uthman are the most known examples in this regard. Efforts in later periods to record, in full, texts of Arabic grammar, the religiously obligatory, accounts, Qur’anic commentary, and hadith constitute further such examples. Even if these are to be termed innovations, they cannot be said to be wrong, as this is precisely how knowledge was preserved, spread and transferred to succeeding generations. This needs to be considered thus with respect to our time and mass media organs, modern printing and publication houses, the Internet, and military and social developments. Those who do not keep pace with such advancements would have no chance of survival in such a world.

The sources of Islamic jurisprudence are clearly defined

The Qur’an: The leading source in Islamic jurisprudence. The religion of Islam is learned first and foremost from the Qur’an. “The best among you are those who learn the Qur’an and teach it.”

The Sunnah: The words and actions of the Prophet. Constitutes the second primary source in Islamic jurisprudence. The Sunnah is applied in the absence of clear injunctions in the Qur’an. In the same way that the Prophet has instructed adherence to his Sunnah, he has also enjoined adherence to the practice of the Four Rightly Guided Caliphs as well as his Companions. Such innovations as the supererogatory Prayer during Ramadan performed in the congregation during the caliphate of Umar and the establishment of the Call to Prayer inside the mosque for the Friday Prayer during Uthman’s caliphate, constitute the practice of the Companions and must be followed.

Ijma al-Umma (Consensus of Scholars): Ijma is the term employed to refer to the consensus of Muslim jurists on a theological matter in a given era. The consensus of scholars on a matter is a source of legislation in Islam and is appealed to when a matter is not found in the Qur’an and the Sunnah. For instance, the Tarawih Prayer performed in congregation during Umar’s caliphate.

Qiyas al-Fuqaha (Analytical Reasoning of the Scholars): The term qiyas literally means measuring two things with each other and drawing comparisons between them. Umar is known to have advised Abu Musa al-Ash’ari to “Identify similar and analogous cases, carefully examine their causes, and then use qiyas (analytical deduction).”

WHAT WE HAVE LEARNED

This hadith constitutes one of the cornerstones of Islam.

That which does not abrogate or contradict the Qur’an and Sunnah is accepted (The compilation of the Qur’an in book form, the commemoration of the Noble Birth, and the like).

Innovation (bid’a) is categorized into good (hasana) and evil (sayyi’a) innovation.

Muslim scholars have considered an innovation in five parts: necessary (wajib), recommended (mandub), permitted (mubah), unlawful (haram), and disliked (makruh). The discovery of weapons of warfare and the readying of forces suitable for the conditions of the time is necessary. Establishing universities and institutes and publishing scholarly works, spreading knowledge, teaching it to others, building schools and the like are recommended and accepted. Eating and drinking of the lawful are permissible, while the unlawful and disliked have been clearly defined and determined in Islam.

Both the one who sets an evil precedent (in evil innovation) and the one who follows in their path are equally wrongdoers.

[mortalkombartwistedreflectionau]

Mirror Ashrah/TR Ashrah Bio

Clarification

So, long story short, good friends of mine and I have had the headcanon for years that Ashrah's Deception bio used the word 'sisters' to refer to Ashrah's biological/adopted sisters, also part of the Brotherhood, who Quan Chi sent after her because he is an asshole. They also introduced me to a rather obscure ships in those days, Ashrah and Sareena and Kia and Jataaka, and I thought they were cute and decided to use them in my stories.

Thought it would be good clarifying that since the New Era versions are 100% confirmed to be religious sisters. This is like two nuns I understand, but since the word 'sister' is still used I wanted to clarify before making anyone feel uncomfortable. Take this ship as my more obscure version of Kuai Liang x Smoke (actual adoptive brothers in one timeline, perfectly shippable in the others) 🥴

But anyway, uncomfortable stuff aside, go read my friends stuff! It's awesome! 🥳 @cdr2002 His fic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13487521/1/Mortal-Kombat-Requiem

My other friend's fic and her DevianArt stuff. Credit to her for creating the Ashrah's sister OC mentioned in the bio and thanks for letting me use her OCs 😊: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13570745/1/Mortal-Kombat-Reborn https://www.deviantart.com/frost2323 The bio

Born in the second plane of the Netherrealm, in a village formed by demon citizens who had decided to reject Lucifer’s ways and dedicate their lives to something more than causing others pain and suffering. Due to both luck and good organization, the people there actually managed to live at peace, unlike most other communities in the Netherrealm. Ashrah was able to have a quiet and happy life alongside her sister, Arosis, for some time.

Unfortunately, when she was still young, her village drew the attention of a particularly violent group of Oni who were traveling through other planes looking for resources like theirs. Ashrah’s home was attacked, and her sister had to sacrifice to ensure she could escape. Her death sent her soul to a lower plane of the Netherrealm, separating both sisters and leaving Ashrah to survive by herself for some time in a dangerous environment.

After that difficult time struggling to survive, Ashrah was luckily found by members of the recently created Brotherhood, who gave her a new home where she was not only able to form new bonds with other members (especially Sareena), but she was eventually able to reunite with Arosis when she was found too. Now with a new life but still scarred by her experiences, Ashrah decided to become a warrior of the Brotherhood, seeking to help the Netherrealm’s society improve and prevent others from going through the terrible experience she went through.

Nonetheless, Ashrah’s life had another major shift when, during a difficult battle against the Followers of Lucifer (those who still opposed changed in the Netherrealm), a powerful weapon appeared out of nowhere: a kriss, which she was able to use to win the battle. Before she could inform any leader of the Brotherhood about it, the creator of said weapon appeared before her. Cetrion had designed that weapon and let it fall in the battlefield hoping that a worthy wielder would claim it, and so had happened.

After telling her who she was and about her objectives of ‘purifying’ the Netherrealm in a much faster and more efficient way than his brother’s (this last part using 'pretty words', let's say), Cetrion offered Ashrah a chance to join her in her cause. Despite being tempted by that offer, Ashrah decided to refuse, still holding to the Brotherhood’s beliefs. Cetrion respected her choice… or so she said.

Some time later, Arosis didn’t return from a diplomatic mission she was meant to have in the Oni’s territory. When she went to find what had happened, Ashrah found that all indicated that she had been attacked and killed by the Followers of Lucifer. Losing her sister for a second time saddened and enraged Ashrah to no end, just like a certain goddess had wished.

Cetrion appeared before Ashrah again, telling her that she had just found out and gave her condolences... and also told her that preventing situations like that was the reason why they needed to follow her way of improving the Netherrealm: cut negotiations short, and ‘purifying’ those impossible to convince. She told Ashrah to join her again. This time Ashrah accepted.

Currently, Ashrah is one of the main figures of Lady Cetrion’s followers, looking to improve the Netherrealm as soon as possible, no matter what it takes.

[whencyclopedia]

Childbirth in Ancient Rome

Childbirth in ancient Rome was considered the main purpose of marriage. Roman girls married in their early teens, and in elite society, some married before they reached puberty. The legal age for marriage was 12 for a girl; 15 was accepted as being an age fit for conception.

The ability to produce a family was also an explicit political concern in Roman society. Emperor Augustus (r. 27 BCE to 14CE) was particularly troubled by the declining birth rate, especially amongst the upper classes, when he promoted legislation, the Julian Laws in 18 BCE and the Papia-Poppaean Laws in 9 CE, which included measures to promote marriage and reward freeborn women who had more than three children.

Risks & Mortality

There were many risks involved during pregnancy both for mother and child; Pliny the Younger (61 to c. 113 CE) in his Epistulae highlights those risks when he writes of his own young wife, who did not realise that she was pregnant and failed to take certain precautions resulting in her suffering a miscarriage and being gravely ill (8.10). He also writes of the tragedy of two young sisters whom he knew, who both died giving birth (Epist. 4.21.1-3). For any pregnant young girl in labour, physical immaturity could have an adverse effect on the possibility of a normal birth; the remains of a 16-year-old pregnant female discovered in Herculaneum, buried by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, indicates that this girl may have died anyway struggling to give birth because her immature pelvis was too narrow.

The rates of child mortality at birth or in the first five years of life were high with one in three children dying in their first year, many within the first few weeks. Fronto (95-166 CE), the tutor of Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (r. 161-180 CE), tells of his own personal experience of having lost five children, losing each one separately, each one being born at a time when he bereaved another (1.2 Fronto, To Antoninus Augustus ii. 1-2). To counteract mortality rates, fertility rates needed to be high, a woman in antiquity on average gave birth five or six times as some of those children would not survive. Certainly, the cases of maternal and infant mortality would have varied with the socio-economic classes in Roman society; families in the lower classes had to cope with hardship and poverty, and for the newborn, the risks of infant mortality were compounded by poor diet, poor sanitation, and poor medical knowledge.

Continue reading...

[bijoumikhawal]

How Light and Darkness Were Created

Before any visible beings came into existence, there were only invisible beings. Then God decided to create a visible creation. So God said, “Let one of the invisible things descend and become visible.” And Adoil, one of the invisible things, descended. He was extremely large, and in his belly he had a great light. God said to Adoil, “Disintegrate yourself, Adoil, and let what is born from you become visible.” And Adoil disintegrated himself, and out came a very great light. And God was in the midst of the light, and a light came forth out of that light and revealed all the creation that God had thought to create. And God saw that it was good. And God placed a throne for himself, and sat down on it. And then God spoke to the light and said, “You rise up and become the foundation for the highest things. For there is nothing higher than light, except for nothingness itself.”

And God summoned the very lowest beings for a second time, and said, “Let one of the invisible beings descend and become visible.” And Arkhas came out, solid and heavy and very red. And God said to Arkhas, open yourself up, Arkhas, and let what is born from you become visible.” And Arkhas disintegrated himself, and a great darkness emerged from him, very large, bearing the creation of all lower things. And God saw how good it was. And God said to the darkness, “Descend and become the foundation of all lower things. For there is nothing lower than the darkness, except nothing itself.”

Then God took some light and some darkness and mixed them together, and com-manded them to thicken, and when they did, He wrapped them with light, and spread it out, and it became water. And God spread it out above the darkness and below the light, dividing the world above from the world below. And God made a foundation of light around the waters, with seven circles inside it, with the appearance of crystal. And he pointed out the route of each one of the seven stars to its own heaven. And God made a division between the light and the darkness, and said to the light that it should be day, and to darkness that it should be night. And there was evening and there was morning, a first day (Gen. 1:5).

This astonishing creation myth from 2 Enoch dates from around the second century BCE to the first century CE. It portrays a version of the creation of light and darkness that is radically different from that found in Genesis. Here the earliest manifestation of existence occurs when God commands two invisible beings, Adoil and Arkhas, to give birth to light and darkness, which come to serve as the upper and lower founda-tions of the world. Adoil and Arkhas are primordial beings—not angels or gods, but invisible forces entirely under God’s command. And it is God who commands that they descend and become visible. Of particular interest is God’s command to Adoil and Arkhas that they disintegrate themselves, suggesting that their disintegration makes possible the subsequent births that take place. When they do, a great light comes forth from Adoil, while Arkhas gives birth to darkness. This myth is an interesting parallel to that of the Ari about the Shattering of the Vessels. In both cases a kind of breaking apart is required before anything can be created. See “The Shattering of the Vessels and the Gathering of the Sparks,” p. 122.

This myth about Adoil and Arkhas also has distinctly Gnostic overtones, for it suggests that God did not create light and darkness by Himself. Instead, God commanded that certain invisible beings give birth to these forces, and that is what took place. There is no explanation given for the existence of the invisible beings, no statement that God created them. Further, it is stated that God coexisted with them and moved around with them. But God’s command over them is demonstrated when He orders them to manifest themselves and then to disintegrate themselves, so that light and darkness can be created. Thus this myth suggests that, for God, the primary work of Creation was in making the invisible visible.

The very strangeness of this myth seems to hint at an even more ancient Jewish mythology where elemental forces were personified as primitive beings rather than as spiritual beings such as angels. Or it might be that this myth was influenced by Egyptian and Iranian mythologies.

The end of this myth dovetails into Genesis 1:5: And there was evening and there was morning, a first day. Thus this myth explicitly offers itself as an alternative to the creation myth found in Genesis 1:1-4, where light is created and darkness already seems to exist. It is a much more complex—and mythical—kind of creation than God simply saying “Let there be light,” and there was light (Gen. 1:3).

Pg 88-89, Tree of Souls by Howard Schwartz

[rmorde]

AU Ideas: KYOTO EDITION 1

MECHAMARU

There is a belief in East Asia about inanimate objects developing a soul if people poured love and dedication to it. I'd like to use that here.

So, Kokichi obviously shows a lot of attachment and fondness to his puppet Mechamaru. Let's say one puppet remained intact after the fight against Mahito.

This puppet developed a soul due to the love and care Kokichi had given to it for all his life. It had awakened when Kokichi's physical body was destroyed.

Imprinted into this puppet are all the "memories" from the other puppets destroyed. So when it became conscious, it immediately claim the identity of "Mechamaru". His first priority was to see if Kokichi made it out alive.

Mechamaru was devastated when he found his maker's corpse. He blamed himself for not protecting him better during the fight against Mahito. He was weak and failed to help Kokichi's dream come true.

After mourning his loss, Mechamaru then laid Kokichi and all of his fellow puppets to rest via burning. He was actually tempted to join them until he felt the activation of other puppets far away. That was when he remembered Kokichi's fail safes.

Mechamaru tries to communicate with Kokichi but was too far away. With a new mission in mind, he races to Shibuya. Maybe there is a chance to salvage their dream.

There is a big problem tho. Mechamaru does not have a flight feature nor the appropriate equipment for fast travel. His CE reserve is not as much as it used to be in his memory. He realizes then how he been spoiled rotten by Kokichi's massive amounts of CE.

But Mechamaru still tries to make it to Shibuya. Since he is a puppet, he does not exactly get physically tired. His only worry was being inefficient with his CE. So, he just ran as fast as he can to the nearest civilization in the area then hitched a ride with some teenagers by pretending to be a cosplayer who wants to join a party in Shibuya.

Sadly, his efforts did not exactly give him what he wanted.

Mechamaru was too late to make any difference in Shibuya. What he only gained was one conversation with Kokichi - the first and last they could ever have as two separate entities.

Kokichi was first shocked at Mechamaru's sentience. Eventually it gave way to joy and contentment because despite of his horrific mistake, a miracle happened - he gave life to his most trusted friend.

But while Kokichi was being sentimental about the whole thing, Mechamaru was bargaining with him in devastation and grief. They could switch "bodies". Mechamaru would take over the small puppet that Kokichi's waning soul is inhabiting. It could then turn his robotic puppet body into a perfect vessel for Kokichi to transfer in. The distance between would not be a problem now. They could do it.

However, Kokichi refused the offer. He wants to live but not at the cost of Mechamaru. He asked for forgiveness because he is hurting him with his choice. Also, the idea of soul transferring is unknown territory and risky from Kokichi's perspective especially with his status. He cannot gamble Mechamaru's new life with it.

Before Kokichi soul faded away for good, he cursed told Mechamaru to live and see the world on his behalf. Kokichi wished for him to find a happy better ending than he did.

And so, Mechamaru let him go. The last thing he wants was to turn Kokichi into a cursed spirit born from his regret in being unable to save him.

After that, Mechamaru became listless for a while. Bereft of any purpose and unable to die, he didn't know what to do. How exactly was he supposed to fulfill Kokichi's wish?

Then the Culling Games was announced. Mechamaru then remembered the entire reason this tragedy and miracle in his life happened - the students of Kyoto. Kokichi's, or as he insisted before dying, their friends.

He has to check on them and make sure they are safe.

EXTRA NOTES:

Mechamaru is less powerful then Kokichi but he can upgrade his body to become stronger.

While he had been imbued with Kokichi's CE and CT, it would fade over time as he develops his own. He is not happy about it and wants to find a way to preserve them.

Technically, he should be categorized as a Cursed Tool - just a sentient one. He is not a Cursed Spirit because he was not born out of negative emotions. Mechamaru was made out of love and hope.

While he prioritizes his friends' safety, he still wants revenge against those who led Kokichi to his death. Good luck with that.

Everyone should never ever insult Kokichi while Mechamaru is around. It is practically his Berserk Button.

The only "senses" Mechamaru has are sight, hearing, "smell", and "touch". As a puppet, he doesn't need to eat. So, he was not equipped with "taste".

Mechamaru has a penchant for black humor through nasty surprises of the dismemberment and beheadings. It is one of the perks of having a puppet as a body.

His friends and allies cannot help but compare him to Pinocchio (puppet). Mechamaru is offended. He prefers Astro Boy (robot).

Mechamaru would build at least three back up bodies: one that is a replica of his puppet body, an android that was designed to look like a brother of Kokichi's*, and a pocket-sized chibified version of his android body. -> *I'm thinking of the android body looking like Aki.

[eva-knits12]

Baby Shower with CE characters

Steve Rogers

Pepper, Natasha, Wanda, Hope, and Maria are throwing you a baby shower.

It's a nice, October day, and they've already set up the courtyard at the Tower.

It's 75 degrees, so the shower is being held before it gets even colder.

They had the food catered, and even got a cake.

The gift table is amazing, and the food and cake look beautiful.

You're wearing a yellow maternity dress with polka dots because you and Steve know the gender, but you both don't want to give anything away.

Everyone that you invited brings a gift from the registry from Target, Macy's, and Pottery Barn Kids.

Lunch is grilled chicken with salad and rolls.

You and Steve wait to cut the cake for the gender reveal.

You'll open the presents after the cake is served, and you and Steve do the gender reveal.

Everyone plays baby bingo, and guesses the gender.

Most of the votes are blue for boy.

Your cake has Steve's shield on it.

When you and Steve cut into the cake, you get the first slice, and reveal the blue interior of the cake.

It's a boy!

The waiters hand everyone blue goody bags.

The cake is served with some ice cream, if requested.

You and Steve open the gifts.

You receive a lot of things and toys for James, including books.

You and Steve spend the night in the Tower.

You and Steve rent a U-Haul so that you can take all the gifts back home to the lake house, and put them in James' nursery.

Four months later, you give birth to James.

Steve and you fall in love even more.

Ransom Drysdale

You and Ransom are excited!

Ransom more so, because he loves your mom and your aunts.

They planned a baby shower for you.

You and Ransom are expecting twins!

The shower is set up so that it's both blue and pink!

Ransom has you in the wheelchair, because of your MS.

It makes times like this difficult, but it's worth it.

You've always wanted to be a mom, and Ransom wanted to be a dad.

Well, a different dad than Richard.

Ransom vowed to be a hands-on dad when he found out that you were pregnant.

He's been no contact with Linda and Richard ever since that fateful dinner a few years ago.

They weren't invited, so Ransom feels like a weight is lifted off his shoulder.

He talks to your belly, rubs cocoa butter on your belly, and even reads to your belly.

He even plays music to your belly-everything from classical to the Beatles to jazz to '90's alternative.

His face lights up when he feels his son and his daughter move and respond to not only his voice, music, and even your voice.

Harlan has arrived, and well, his gift are two silver rattles that you and Ransom will have engraved with the twins' names on them when they are born.

The cake is exquisite, and so is the lunch.

The shower is held a local tea house, and it's set up and looks beautiful.

The staff really went all out, and organized everything, even a gift table, scones on every table, cookies, and a charcuterie board at each table.

You registered at Target, Neiman Marcus, Pottery Barn Kids, Macy's, Nordstrom's, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Amazon.

You get a lot of gifts, and Ransom and you stuff what you can into your Lexus.

Your dad rents a truck to take the rest home because you have a lot of stuff.

With twins, it's double of everything, including a crib, high chairs, diapers, clothes, and and everything that a baby would need times two!

Everyone gets pink and blue goody bags.

You fall asleep when you get home because the shower and the day just wore you and Ransom out.

Andy Barber

Your baby shower is held in the private room of a local Italian place.

Your wearing a lavender maternity dress with a hand knit lavender cardigan.

Your mom, aunts, cousins, and friends from work all threw you the baby shower.

You're registered at Target, Macy's, Pottery Barn Kids, and Amazon.

The dinner is various pastas set up buffet style along with meatballs, salad, garlic bread, even appetizers.

You have some spaghetti with meatballs and Andy has some, too.

You both have some salad and garlic bread.

The gift table is amazing.

You and Andy do the gender reveal by opening a pinata that is full of pink confetti.

You and Andy cut the cake, but steal a kiss before you both cut the cake.

The cake has pink on the inside, with a white layer in the middle.

The cake is served, and everyone has a good time.

Everyone leaves with pink goody bags.

The bags have a small candle where the label turns pink when it's heat activated, some seeds to grow a garden because they fit in with the theme of Joy's nursery. There's even pink hard candies, and some pink and silver Hershey's kisses.

You and Andy have so much to take back and to celebrate.

Your dad helps you and Andy bring back all of the gifts.

You and Andy crash in bed because you're both exhausted.

Two months later, Joy is born.

Jake Jensen

You and Jake decide on a theme.

You decide on a nice, princess theme, since that's the theme for the nursery.

You and Jake had to put princesses on the invitations.

His mom and his sister threw you the baby shower at your house.

Your mom offered to help, and split the cost.

The shower is hosted at your mother-in-law's house.

You're registered at Target, Amazon, Macy's, Pottery Barn Kids, and even Barnes and Noble.

The lunch is catered, and the cake is even more amazing because it was from a local bakery.

You worked with an even planner, named Katie, who helped make this shower possible.

It's amazing because she's not only your neighbor, she was there for you when you and Jake were trying to conceive, and she listened to your frustrations and didn't judge you for battling infertility.

It turned out she had to go through IVF because she battled infertility, and got three kids out of it.

She also has endometriosis and PCOS on top of that.

She's been a huge part of your support system.

You get a lot of stuff, double of everything.

The gender reveal is amazing.

The cake is pink on the inside, with chocolate and raspberries in the layers.

The lunch is just fried chicken with all the sides.

You and Jake make out like a bandit.

Jake and you don't worry about transport, but putting together some of the items, like the baby gyms, high chairs, the double stroller that both your parents and his parents split the cost on is a whole different story.

You're wearing a cute, pink maternity dress and Jake is wearing a pink button down.

The afternoon just flies by.

It's amazing.

You and Jake fall in love even more, knowing that you're two beautiful girls will be here in a few more months.

Of course, Jake is your sweet, loving, adorable, adorkable, goofball.

You're his honey bun.

Colin Shea

It's an amazing day.

It's November, and it's your birthday.

You have an ob/gyn appointment, and you and Colin recently discovered that you're having a girl.

Colin proposed to you in the kitchen of your new house that morning.

You also have the flu, but didn't realize that you were sick.

When you finally arrive at Esther's house, she organized a baby shower and a birthday party for you.

You've registered at Target, Macy's, Pottery Barn Kids, and Amazon.

You also get several birthday presents, even though the day is about your baby girl than you.

Colin feeds you soup when you get home, and won't leave your side.

He entertains you with movies, singing to you, playing his guitar for you, even snuggling you and sleeping with you.

When Colin starts to sing and play the guitar, Harper moves around in your womb, and kicks in time to Colin's guitar and singing.

Colin feels his daughter move.

You and Colin wouldn't have it any other way.

It's even more intensified when Harper is born several months later.

Johnny Storm

Your baby shower is amazing.

You're wearing a green maternity dress because you want everyone to be surprised.

His sister, Susan, is throwing the baby shower.

You have a cake with blue and white layers and white icing.

You and Johnny do the gender reveal, and he came up with a completely different idea.

But you and Susan drew the line when he wanted to launch a fire cannon with blue flames indoors.

Instead, you pop a balloon with blue confetti.

You and Johnny are registered at Target, Macy's, Pottery Barn Kids, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.

Johnny has been reading to your belly every night, and every morning.

You and Johnny both talk to your unborn son every day.

You also read to your unborn son every day.

He already takes a picture of you every day, naked, with the stats of each day written on a dry erase board.

On the day of the shower, Johnny painted "It's a boy! #teamboy" on your belly in light blue body painted.

Johnny and you are excited today.

You get a ton of gifts.

Everyone gets blue goody bags.

What's even more amazing is that your nursery feels complete, and you and Johnny fall more in love.

You and Johnny wouldn't trade this for the world.