#‘welcome to europe. no clothes for you’

[hypnogold]

Crescent High 3

Lukas had only been in the U.S. for a few months. He was used to the European school system, where high school was less about sports and more about academics. But here, in America, things were different. That’s what he liked about it. Crescent High, with its sports teams and school spirit, seemed like the perfect place to finally experience the “high school life” he’d only seen in movies.

On his first day, Lukas walked through the wide hallways, noticing the groups of students milling about, many of them wearing their team jackets proudly. He had always been athletic, but European schools didn’t have organized teams like this. At Crescent High, there were tryouts for soccer, football, basketball—every sport imaginable.

As he passed by the gym, a poster caught his eye: Soccer Tryouts – This Friday. A smile crossed his face. Finally, a way to connect, to belong.

Lukas arrived early, his nerves a mix of excitement and apprehension. He had trained in local clubs back home in Europe, but this was different. The players here were part of something bigger, something that extended beyond just the game.

He noticed how many of the guys had the same gleaming kits—the golden AC Milan uniforms he had seen around the school. They looked powerful, united, and for a moment, Lukas felt out of place in his standard practice gear. He asked if he could borrow a golden kit. Coach approved and gave him a normal golden kit, not yet transformative. He was powerfull on the field.

The coach, Johnson, was already there, watching over the field with a keen eye. As the tryouts began, Lukas quickly proved his worth, his skills standing out. He sprinted down the field, dribbling past the defenders with ease, his footwork precise.

By the end of the session, Coach Johnson approached him. “You’ve got potential, Lukas,” he said, his voice friendly but with an undertone Lukas couldn’t quite place. “You could really fit in here. How about you stop by next week for a meeting with the team? We’ve got some things we think you’ll like.”

Lukas grinned, nodding. It felt good to be noticed.

The Following Week...

Lukas was getting used to life at Crescent High. The cafeteria, the lockers, even the massive gym felt more familiar now. He had even made a few friends. Still, there was something about the golden team members—those guys who wore the shining AC Milan kits. They always seemed so tight-knit, always together, always smiling. It was like they knew something the others didn’t.

The meeting Coach Johnson had mentioned came at the end of the week. Lukas showed up, a little unsure of what to expect. Inside the locker room, some of the team members were already there. They greeted him like an old friend, patting him on the back, giving him compliments on his performance during tryouts.

“Here,” one of them said, handing Lukas a folded piece of clothing. “Coach wanted you to have this.”

Lukas unfolded it. It was one of the golden kits—the same shimmering AC Milan jerseys he had seen so many others wear. His heart skipped a beat. It felt like initiation, like he was finally being welcomed into something bigger. He wanted to be a part of it. But something about the kit… it seemed almost too perfect, too polished.

“Try it on, bro,” one of the guys said with a grin. “It’s part of being on the team.”

Lukas hesitated. “I mean… it looks great, but…”

The team members all laughed in unison, their voices almost synchronized. “Don’t worry, man. Once you’re wearing it, you’ll feel right at home.”

Over the next few days, Lukas kept the kit in his locker, untouched. Every time he passed it, he felt a strange pull toward it. It wasn’t just about fitting in—it was more than that. The jersey seemed to call to him, as if putting it on would make everything fall into place.

At practice, Lukas started to notice the little things. The golden team members seemed faster, stronger, more in sync than the rest of the players. They moved effortlessly on the field, their golden kits shimmering under the sun. And then there were the whispers—rumors about how once you put the kit on, you were changed. Lukas brushed them off, thinking it was just superstition.

But every day, the urge to wear the jersey grew stronger. It started as curiosity, then turned into something he couldn’t shake. And yet, he still resisted. He wasn’t sure why, but part of him felt that once he put it on, there’d be no going back. Coach needed Lukas faster, so he used his secret weapon on him... Now he is one of them.

As the bell rang for lunch, Paxton strolled confidently through the hallway, his shiny metallic gold AC Milan kit glistening under the fluorescent lights. His number, 18, stood out boldly on his back, and the once-nerdy Paxton had become completely unrecognizable. The sight of him made the rest of the school uneasy, knowing that once you wore the golden kit, you were no longer yourself.

Inside the locker room, a group of four students huddled together. They had been part of the resistance, still wearing their blue and white uniforms. Each day, they’d seen more students fall—either after practice or through “accidents” like stumbling upon a golden kit left conveniently in a locker.

“We can’t keep hiding,” Matt, one of the students, whispered. “They’ll find us eventually.”

“Coach threw a kit over the bathroom stall yesterday,” Jake muttered. “It enveloped Dan. He didn’t even have a chance. By the time I got out of there, he was already talking like them—‘bro’ this, ‘bro’ that. And that dumb grin…”

Across the room, Luke, one of their smarter classmates, had an idea. “What if we break into the supply room where they keep the golden kits? We could destroy them, or at least hide them.”

Matt nodded. “That’s risky, but it could work.”

Meanwhile, Paxton had overheard part of their conversation. He smirked and silently slipped away, already formulating a plan to alert the team. He knew they wouldn’t have much time to act.

Later that afternoon, the group snuck into the athletics wing of the school. The door to the supply room was locked, but Luke pulled out a bobby pin, his hands trembling slightly as he worked on the lock. Finally, it clicked open.

Inside, rows of golden kits hung neatly. Their shimmering glow was almost mesmerizing. Jake hesitated as he walked toward them, an odd feeling creeping up his spine. The room smelled faintly of leather and cologne—a familiar scent from the locker room, but much stronger here. His resistance started to waver. “Maybe we shouldn’t destroy them,” he mumbled, almost in a trance.

“What? Are you crazy?” Matt snapped. “That’s exactly what they want.”

Before Jake could respond, the door slammed shut. They turned around to find another Coach standing there, a wide grin on his face. “Going somewhere, boys?”

Luke, trying to keep his cool, stepped forward. “We’re just looking around, Coach.”

Coach’s eyes glinted, and he pulled a golden kit off the rack, holding it out to Jake. “You’ve always been one of my best players, Jake. Why resist the inevitable? This kit was made for you.”

The temptation was too strong. Jake’s hand slowly reached out, brushing against the kit’s smooth fabric. The moment he touched it, his pupils dilated, and a glazed expression washed over his face. He couldn’t stop himself from putting it on. As the shirt slipped over his head, his resistance faded away completely. His back straightened, and when he turned to face the others, his eyes had a faint golden spiral. “Bro, you gotta try this,” Jake said with a wide, stupid grin.

Now let's make you complete Golden Boy. The assistent of coach sprayed Jake, sealing his transformation.

1 week later...

Mr. Jonathan Hale had been teaching history at Crescent High for over a decade. The smell of chalk, the sight of textbooks stacked haphazardly on desks, and the distant murmur of students in the hallway had always made him feel at home. But lately, things had changed. The usual atmosphere of Crescent High was shifting, and Mr. Hale couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It wasn’t just the students' behavior, although that had certainly become strange. There was something deeper—like an invisible force spreading across the school. He had noticed it first in the small details: students whispering in the halls, odd glances exchanged during lunch, and then… the golden jerseys.

At first, they had only been worn by a handful of students, mostly athletes, but now more and more of his students were coming to class wearing the shiny golden AC Milan kits. The jerseys seemed to exude an aura of confidence, even power. But there was something unsettling about the way the students who wore them acted. Their demeanor had shifted; they seemed almost… too happy, too sure of themselves.

One afternoon, as the bell rang and students filtered out of his classroom, Mr. Hale sat at his desk, lost in thought. That’s when Matt, Luke, and Jake walked in.

Mr. Hale had always liked Matt and Luke. They were bright, engaged, and often stayed behind after class to discuss topics beyond the curriculum. Jake, on the other hand, had recently started acting differently. Once a quiet, reserved student, Jake now wore one of those golden jerseys—his face plastered with an easy grin that never seemed to fade.

“Mr. Hale,” Luke started, nervously glancing at Matt. “We need to talk to you about something.”

The older teacher looked up, curious but slightly apprehensive. “What’s going on, boys?”

“It’s Jake,” Matt said, his voice low. “And the others. There’s something wrong with the students wearing those golden kits. They’re different. We think they’re… being changed.”

Mr. Hale raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jake, who was standing a bit too still, his arms crossed, that familiar unsettling smile plastered on his face.

“Changed how?” Hale asked.

“Bro, don’t be dramatic,” Jake interrupted, his tone casual but with an odd edge to it. “It’s just a uniform, man. We’re all part of the team now. You’ll get it soon.”

The way Jake said it made Mr. Hale’s stomach churn. Something wasn’t right.

Luke stepped closer to the desk, lowering his voice. “Coach Johnson… he’s behind all of this. The soccer team, the golden kits… once you put one on, it’s like you’re not the same anymore. Jake… he was never like this before.”

Matt nodded. “We’ve been trying to resist it, but it’s getting harder. They’re spreading those kits, and more students are getting pulled in every day.”

Mr. Hale leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had noticed the change in Jake but had dismissed it as just the usual ebb and flow of high school life. Now, hearing Matt and Luke’s concerns, it all started to click. The golden kits, the changes in behavior, the increasing influence of Coach Johnson… it was all connected.

Hale glanced at Jake again. The boy’s smile never wavered, his eyes gleaming as if he knew something no one else did. For the first time in his career, Mr. Hale felt a chill run down his spine while looking at one of his students.

“You’re saying these jerseys are doing something to the students?” Hale asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Matt nodded. “It’s more than just a uniform, sir. It’s like… once you wear it, you become part of the team. But not in a good way. You’re not yourself anymore.”

Luke chimed in, “We don’t know how to stop it, but we’re sure Coach Johnson’s behind it. He’s recruiting students one by one.”

Mr. Hale leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper. “And how are you two avoiding it?”

“We’ve been hiding,” Luke said. “We try to stay out of the locker rooms, avoid practice, but they’re everywhere. We don’t know how long we can hold out.”

Matt added, “We thought maybe you could help us. You’re the only teacher we trust. You’ve been here for years, and we know you’ve seen things change.”

Mr. Hale nodded slowly, his mind racing. “I’ve noticed something’s been off, but I didn’t realize how deep it went. This is… this is serious.”

Jake, still standing there, let out a soft chuckle. “Come on, Mr. Hale. It’s not that deep. We’re just evolving, bro. The team’s growing, and soon everyone’s going to be a part of it. You’ll see.”

Hale’s eyes narrowed. He could see now that Jake wasn’t just different—he was completely changed, like someone else entirely. And it was the golden jersey that had done it.

“We need to figure out a way to stop this,” Mr. Hale said, turning back to Matt and Luke. “But we’ll have to be careful. If what you’re saying is true, we can’t trust anyone who’s already wearing those kits.”

Matt and Luke exchanged a glance, relieved that someone finally believed them. But the weight of what they were up against hung heavy in the air.

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Matt said, determination in his voice.

Mr. Hale nodded. “First, we’ll need to gather more information. If Coach Johnson is the key, we need to find out how he’s controlling this, and how to stop it.”

Jake stepped forward, his grin widening. “You can try, bro, but once you put on the kit, you won’t want to stop it. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

Hale ignored the ominous remark and turned his attention to Luke and Matt. “Stay low. Avoid any situation where they might get you alone. And if you see any more students changing, let me know immediately. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

As Matt and Luke left the classroom, Mr. Hale glanced at Jake one last time. “Jake,” he said quietly, “what happened to you?”

Jake smiled, that same eerie grin spreading across his face. “I became part of something bigger, Mr. Hale. Soon, you will too.”

Matt and Luke hurried to the locker room after their meeting with Mr. Hale. They knew they couldn’t hide forever. The golden team was everywhere, growing larger each day. Their hope now rested in finding out how Coach Johnson and the team were spreading this strange influence—and stopping it.

As they entered the locker room, the tension was palpable. Several golden-jerseyed players were gathered in the corner, whispering among themselves. Matt and Luke stuck to the shadows, watching from behind a row of lockers. They needed to be cautious; any wrong move could get them noticed, and worse—converted.

Then they saw it.

A group of guys from the soccer tryouts had just been called in by Coach Johnson. They were led into the back area of the locker room, where a strange setup had been arranged: bottles of golden deodorant lined up on the benches, their gleaming labels flashing in the dim light. Luke squinted, confused.

“What’s that about?” he whispered.

Matt shook his head. “I don’t know… but I’ve got a bad feeling.”

They watched in silence as Coach Johnson approached the new recruits, all of whom still wore their regular athletic gear. “Alright, boys,” Johnson said with a grin. “Time to welcome you to the team.”

He picked up one of the bottles of golden deodorant, shaking it before passing it to a player standing next to him. “Go ahead,” he urged. “Give it a spray.”

The player, unsure but eager to fit in, pressed down on the nozzle. A thick mist of golden smoke filled the air around him. For a moment, the entire locker room was enveloped in the glowing fog. When it began to clear, Matt and Luke’s eyes widened in shock.

The player’s clothes had completely changed.

His casual practice gear had been replaced by the gleaming golden AC Milan kit, his number clearly marked on the back. His demeanor had shifted too—where there had been hesitation moments before, now there was confidence. He looked around at his teammates, his eyes shining with that same strange glow Matt and Luke had seen in Jake.

“Welcome to the team, bro,” Coach Johnson said, clapping the player on the back.

The player, now fully transformed, gave a slow nod. “Feels right, Coach,” he replied, his voice lower, more relaxed.

One by one, the other recruits followed, each taking a bottle and spraying themselves with the golden deodorant. Each time, the golden mist clouded the air, and when it cleared, their clothes had changed—just like the first player’s. Every new recruit stood there, beaming with the same mindless smile that had unsettled Matt and Luke from the start.

“They’re using that stuff to convert them,” Luke whispered, barely able to contain his horror. “That’s how they’re doing it.”

Matt clenched his fists. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Back in his classroom, Mr. Hale couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening right under his nose. As his students filed out for the day, he found an excuse to head toward the athletics wing. If Matt and Luke were right, and Coach Johnson really was at the center of this, then the answers would be in the locker room.

As he approached the door, he heard the familiar sound of laughter—low, confident, the kind of laugh that had become common among the students in golden kits. He pushed the door open slowly, careful not to make a sound.

What he saw inside confirmed his worst fears.

Coach Johnson was standing with a group of students, all of them now wearing the golden kits and blue shorts. They had formed a circle around a new recruit, one of the boys from the soccer tryouts, who was holding a bottle of the golden deodorant in his hand. The room filled with mist again, and when it cleared, the recruit had changed—just like all the others.

Mr. Hale stepped back, heart pounding. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could something as simple as deodorant be part of the transformation? It didn’t make sense… and yet, there it was.

Hale retreated from the locker room, his mind racing. He needed to regroup with Matt and Luke. They had to figure out how to stop Coach Johnson, how to stop the golden deodorant from spreading to more students. The school was falling under the influence of the golden team, and if they didn’t act fast, it would be too late.

As he left the athletics wing, he spotted Matt and Luke by the entrance. Their faces were pale, but their eyes were determined.

“We saw it,” Luke said quietly. “We saw everything.”

“So did I,” Hale replied, his voice firm. “And now we know what we’re dealing with.”

Matt nodded. “What do we do next?”

Hale looked back at the locker room, then turned to his students. “We need to find out where that deodorant is coming from. If we can cut off the supply, maybe we can slow them down.”

Luke stepped forward. “And then what?”

Mr. Hale’s eyes hardened. “Then, we figure out how to break this… before it’s too late.”

The atmosphere around Crescent High was growing more intense by the day. The golden jerseys had spread beyond just the students; now even some staff members were wearing them. Mr. Hale couldn’t shake the eerie feeling as he passed the once-familiar faces of colleagues who had recently donned the shiny kits, their expressions vacant and their enthusiasm almost robotic.

The school’s transformation was escalating, and it wasn’t just the students being targeted anymore. Each class gets another colour shorts to know who is who.

Gym teachers GOLD:

Math teachers BLUE:

History teachers BLACK:

Biology teachers WHITE:

Matt, Luke, and Mr. Hale huddled in the history classroom, piecing together what they’d witnessed. “It’s spreading faster than we thought,” Matt said, his voice low. “It’s not just the blue students anymore.”

“They’ve started recruiting anyone who sets foot in the school,” Luke added. “Teachers, janitors, even delivery people.”

Mr. Hale nodded grimly. “The deodorant. That mist—it’s how they’re doing it. We have to move fast. If we don’t, there won’t be anyone left who’s not part of this golden team.”

Mr. Carter

Mr. Hale had always respected Mr. Carter, the math teacher across the hall. He was quiet, always kept to himself, but he cared deeply about his students. So when Mr. Hale saw him walking into the staff lounge wearing one of those golden kits, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.

He had to talk to him.

Later that day, Mr. Hale caught Mr. Carter in the hallway. “Carter,” he called out, his voice hesitant. “You got a minute?”

Mr. Carter turned, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed to light up in recognition. But then, just as quickly, they dulled again, replaced by that same unsettling grin Mr. Hale had seen so many times before. “Hey, bro!” Mr. Carter said, his voice unusually cheery. “What’s up?”

Mr. Hale’s stomach churned. Carter had never spoken like that. “I wanted to ask you about… your new look.”

Carter chuckled. “Oh, this?” He tugged at the golden jersey, its fabric shimmering under the hallway lights. “Coach Johnson hooked me up. Said it was about time I joined the team. It feels good, man. You should try it.” Blue teacher means Math bro! All the students are now becoming blue students.

Hale’s heart raced. He had hoped that maybe the teachers were somehow different, that they would be immune. But no, Carter was fully under their control now.

“What happened, Carter?” Hale asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “How did you… change?”

Carter’s grin widened. “Coach gave me a little nudge, that’s all. It was during lunch—just a quick spray of some new cologne he said he was testing out.” Carter leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Honestly, I didn’t think much of it at first. But after I inhaled it, everything just clicked, you know? I felt like part of something bigger.”

Hale swallowed hard, realizing the golden deodorant wasn’t just for students. Anyone could be converted. “You don’t… feel any different?”

“Only better, bro,” Carter replied, clapping Hale on the shoulder. “You’ll see.”

It wasn’t long before the golden team’s influence began to spread beyond the school. Delivery trucks rolled in and out of the Crescent High parking lot daily, and the golden team saw an opportunity to expand their reach.

One afternoon, a delivery guy named Mark pulled up to drop off sports equipment for the athletics department. He was a regular at Crescent High, often bringing in boxes of new uniforms, water bottles, and other gear for the teams. He didn’t think much of the kids wandering around in golden jerseys as he unloaded the boxes from his truck.

As Mark was organizing the shipment, a few of the golden team members approached him. “Hey man, need a hand with that?” one of them asked, flashing the familiar grin.

Mark shrugged. “Sure, if you guys don’t mind.”

As they helped him carry the boxes to the storage area, one of the team members pulled out a small bottle of the golden deodorant, holding it discreetly behind his back. When Mark wasn’t looking, he gave a quick spray, filling the air around them with a thick, golden mist.

The transformation happened almost instantly. As the mist cleared, Mark coughed lightly, rubbing his eyes. When he blinked again, his clothes had changed. His usual delivery uniform was gone, replaced by a golden AC Milan jersey, his new number shining on his back. He didn’t even notice at first. But as he stood up straight, the change settled in. His posture shifted, his expression softened into that familiar, vacant grin.

“Bro, you good?” one of the team members asked, knowing full well what had just happened.

Mark blinked, his eyes glowing faintly for a moment. “Yeah, man,” he replied, his voice relaxed and calm. “I feel great.”

The team members laughed, slapping him on the back. “Welcome to the team, bro.”

Mark smiled, completely unaware that just minutes ago, he had been a delivery driver with no ties to Crescent High. Now, he was one of them.

Back in his classroom, Mr. Hale was trying to focus on his lesson plan, but his mind kept drifting back to the growing problem at Crescent High. The golden deodorant had clearly become a tool for mass recruitment, and it wasn’t just affecting students anymore. With teachers like Mr. Carter and even outsiders like delivery drivers falling under its control, the situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

He had to act.

“We need to do something about the deodorant,” Luke said, pacing around the room. “If we don’t stop them from spraying it, everyone’s going to be part of the golden team by next week.”

Matt nodded. “I’ve seen them spray it on guys when they’re not looking. It happens so fast. One minute they’re normal, and the next, they’re wearing the jersey.”

Mr. Hale stood up, his decision made. “We’re going to need help. We can’t do this alone anymore. If they’re targeting anyone who sets foot in the school, we need to find people who haven’t been exposed yet. But more importantly, we need to figure out how to reverse this.”

“But how?” Luke asked. “We don’t even know what the deodorant is made of.”

Hale glanced at the door, making sure no one was listening. “I know a few people outside of school—some old friends from the district. Maybe they can help us get to the bottom of this. But we need to be careful. If we get caught, we’ll end up like Carter or worse—like Jake.”

The three of them nodded, knowing that time was running out. The golden team was growing stronger, and soon there would be no one left who hadn’t been sprayed by the golden mist.

The plan had seemed solid—sneak into the athletics wing, destroy the golden jerseys and deodorant, and stop the transformation before it was too late. But Mr. Hale, Matt, and Luke had underestimated the power of the golden team.

As they crept into the athletics wing that night, the air felt heavier than usual, like the school itself knew what was coming. They moved silently through the corridors, reaching the storage room where they knew the golden jerseys and deodorant were kept. But as they stepped inside, their hearts sank.

The room was empty.

"Where is everything?" Matt whispered, panic creeping into his voice.

"They moved it," Hale said, his face grim. "They knew we were coming."

Before they could react, the door slammed shut behind them. Standing in the doorway was Coach Johnson, flanked by Jake, Mr. Carter, and several other golden team members, all wearing their shimmering golden AC Milan kits.

"You didn’t think we’d let you ruin everything, did you, bro?" Jake said, his voice dripping with confidence.

The Final Confrontation

Hale, Matt, and Luke were trapped, surrounded by the golden team. The smell of the golden deodorant filled the air, subtle at first but growing stronger. Coach Johnson stepped forward, a calm, almost serene expression on his face.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Johnson said softly. "This isn’t about control or domination. It’s about unity. About becoming part of something greater than yourself. You’ve seen it happen to your friends, your colleagues. And now, it’s your turn."

He held up a bottle of the golden deodorant, shaking it lightly. "It’s time to stop fighting and join the team, bro."

Matt and Luke backed away, but there was nowhere to go. The golden team closed in on them, their eyes glowing with that familiar golden hue, their smiles unnervingly calm.

Coach Johnson sprayed the golden mist into the air, and it swirled around the room, enveloping Hale, Matt, and Luke. They tried to hold their breath, to resist, but the mist was everywhere. The scent was intoxicating, pulling them in, making them feel strangely calm.

Matt was the first to fall. He coughed, then inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When he opened them again, his expression had changed. His face softened, his eyes glazed over with that same golden glow.

"Bro…" Matt muttered, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "This feels… right."

Hale watched in horror as Matt’s clothes began to shift. His regular school uniform melted away, replaced by the gleaming golden AC Milan jersey. His number—24—flashed across his back. Matt stood up straighter, more confident, more powerful.

"Matt, no!" Luke shouted, but it was too late.

Coach Johnson turned the spray on Luke next, and the mist enveloped him. Luke tried to fight it, but the scent was overpowering. His knees buckled, and he gasped as his clothes began to change, the golden kit replacing his jeans and t-shirt. His number—17—appeared on his back.

Luke stood up, his face slack, his eyes empty. "Bro… it’s good," he murmured.

Mr. Hale was the last one left. He backed into the corner, but there was nowhere to run. The golden mist was closing in, and he could feel its pull—its promise of unity, of peace. He wanted to resist, but deep down, he knew it was over.

"You’ve fought well, Mr. Hale," Coach Johnson said, stepping closer. "But you’ve seen the truth. You’ve seen what we’re building here. It’s time to join us."

Hale’s mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but his body felt heavy, his thoughts clouded by the intoxicating scent of the golden mist. He coughed, inhaling the mist, and for a moment, his vision blurred.

Then, slowly, he felt his body relax. The tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of calm. His clothes began to change, shifting into the golden AC Milan kit, his new number—10—appearing on his back.

Hale looked down at his new uniform, his heart racing. But even as panic surged through him, a part of him felt… at peace. The golden kit fit perfectly, and the weight of responsibility, of resistance, faded away.

"You’re part of the team now, bro," Jake said with a grin.

Hale looked up, his eyes glowing faintly with the golden hue. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, all that came out was a soft, resigned, "Bro… I am Blue"

Crescent High Transformed

By morning, Crescent High was no longer the school it once was. The golden team had taken over completely. Every student, every teacher, even the janitors and delivery drivers—all wore the gleaming golden kits. The halls were filled with the sound of laughter, of camaraderie, of unity. There were no more outsiders, no more resistance.

Mr. Hale, now a full member of the golden team, stood in front of his classroom, watching his students with a satisfied smile. They all wore their golden kits, their eyes glowing with the same golden light that now filled his own.

"Alright, bros," Hale said, his voice smooth and confident. "Let’s get started."

He no longer felt the need to fight. The golden team had won, and in the end, it felt right. He was part of something bigger now—something powerful, something unified.

As the day went on, the golden mist continued to spread. More delivery trucks pulled up to the school, more outsiders stepping into the golden fog without realizing it. Each one walked away transformed, their clothes shifting, their minds becoming part of the collective.

Crescent High was no longer just a school. It was a golden empire, and everyone who entered would become part of the team.

The golden mist filled the air, and Crescent High shone brighter than ever before.

[m-jelly]

JELLY! I finally have time to request, I just moved from America to Europe. And I have not typed this in a long time, but I have a request, Levi but with a Gothic lover?

Gothic Anon

Welcome to the continent of Europe, I hope you like it over here! I hope the country you're in is lovely and welcoming and you get to explore other countries in Europe.

Levi would love a goth girlfriend because his aesthetic is very similar. He would wear fairly normal bad boy style clothes when you first start dating, but as time goes on, he would wear more goth clothes inspired by you because you look so damn beautiful.

Levi would wear goth things to go with you and sometimes punk. The man would even get tattoos and enjoy horror things and when you move in together you'd have a gothic house together because they're nice colours. Plus, black is easier for him to clean than white things.

He'd go with you on dates to gothic places and really enjoy himself. He'd buy you so many gifts too and when it is the season of Halloween he would buy you so many things for the house. All the stuff you like he rather likes and begins to love. You unlock something in him.

When you pick something very cute and not very goth, he thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and if you want adorable cuddly toys he'll get them for you. You're his fluffy, cute, cuddly and angry bunny or kitten.

He'd help you with your makeup, so when you need a steady hand to do eyeliner to live out a goth fantasy, he's got your back and he might even put a bit on himself.

Levi is the Gomez Adams to your Morticia Adams. The two of you are a gothic, elegant pair of beauties who are incredibly affectionate with each other.

Tags under the cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @searriously @anti-cupid @demonic-bird

[oldfritz]

irony: when your girlfriend asks the people at [redacted american airport] how they know which bags to put on the plane when you transfer flights because she thinks it’ll be her bag they lose. you tease her for her silly question. wohohoho honey

[lionheartlr]

Discover Bangladesh: A Comprehensive Travel Guide

A Brief History of Bangladesh Bangladesh, located in South Asia, has a rich history that dates back to ancient times. The region was known as Bengal and was a significant cultural and commercial hub. Over the centuries, it saw the rise and fall of several dynasties, including the Maurya, Gupta, and Pala empires. Colonial Period In the late 16th century, the region came under Mughal rule, which…

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7. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 6,4k

A/N: Feedback is always nice. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

Rosalie knew before she opened her eyes that she wasn’t in her bed. The stiffness in her neck was indication enough, along with the slightly rough feeling of the wool blanket she kept as a decoration on her couch. An unknown alarm was blaring from her phone on the coffee table. Suddenly, the memories from the night before  started to come back to her. How good it was to be wrapped in the footballer’s arms, how warm and safe it felt. She was probably the one who set an alarm to make sure the photographer wouldn’t be late for work.  The simple thought put a smile on the woman’s face.

 A quick look around her kitchen told her that most of the dishes were put away and a cup of coffee along with a note were waiting for her on the counter. 

“ I have to bring Nala home before training. You looked too peaceful to wake up. Thank you for yesterday, I really needed it. See you at training bonita.”

Ale

The photographer took the note and pinned it on her fridge. Every time her eyes strayed to it while getting ready, she could feel butterflies fill her stomach. The brunette hopped quickly in the shower and changed into her day clothes before heading out for the training center. 

The first thing she noticed upon entering her office was the small brown paper bag which seemed to be the source of the delicious smell lingering in the room. There could only be one person responsible for such a gesture. The fluttering feel from the morning came back full swing as the photographer pulled out a fresh pastry from the bag. 

Her morning was quite slow. She had tasked some of the junior photographers to attend training to allow her to finish answering some emails and send the contend Martina was waiting on for the next social media campaign. Rosalie’s morning was surprisingly productive considering the stiffness in her neck. The only thing that pulled her out of her work induced trance was the repeated buzz of her phone. When the device kept vibrating after a good five minutes, the brunette finally checked her screen to see what was going on. She was surprised to see the nicknames of several girls from the team appear on her screen, with the first notification being “Capi has added you to the chat”. Most were welcoming the photographer to the group and the rest were discussing the team bonding night organised by Ingrid that would most likely take place two weeks from now. 

Deciding she would read everything later, she left her phone on her desk and focused on finishing a few tasks before lunch. When she arrived in the cafeteria, she was immediately called by Mapi and Ingrid to join them and the rest of their group. The brunette grabbed her food and took the last available seat, which happened to be next to the Spanish captain. 

She was leaning with her elbows on the table, her hands holding her chin up and listening intently to what Patri was saying. Only, as soon as the brunette took her seat, her focus shifted. 

« Hola, » she said with a lazy smile stretching on her lips. Patri was aware of their budding friendship, but so far had not been aware of a deeper connection blooming between the captain and the photographer. Now, with her friend who had seemingly forgotten about her in order to engage in a conversation with the Canadian, it was clear that something more was happening.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yes, thank you, I didn’t even realize that you left this morning.” The photographer said a little embarrassed by how hard she was sleeping. They were leaning close to each other in order to keep a certain level of privacy in a table filled with their friends and colleagues. “ How did you sleep? Can’t imagine my couch would provide the best sleep.”

“I slept good actually, but I can’t say it’s because of your sofa no.” She said with a smile. 

Patri, still amazed by what was unfolding in front of her, tried to catch Pina’s attention by elbowing her in the ribs. “¿qué es?¿qué es?”

“¿desde cuando?”

“no sé” Pina said, watching the two women converse in front of her. “tengo curiosidad por saber que esta pasando”

“Le preguntaré a algunas de las chicas sobre esto.” Patri said, getting up to bring back her tray. 

The week passed on quickly for everyone. The team was preparing for their game next wednesday and the media team was working extra hard to provide the fans with fun content with their favourite players. Rosalie was able to get out of her office more, and take back her place as the main photographer present during the training sessions. More than ever, Rosalie was appreciating the little routine she had formed, but now, there was a new element present in her daily life. Every lunch, she would spend it with the team in the cafeteria, more precisely with a certain blond captain. 

As they grew closer, the rest of the team noticed the growing chemistry. With the realization came the teasing, which Alexia shot down pretty quickly. Even if these girls were her family, she did not want her private life to be the subject of discussion among them. But even with her efforts, the whole team was soon aware of the clear interest the women had for each other. 

Even with the thought of the photographer in her mind, Alexia was still dead focused on training. Her comeback after her injury had not been an easy road and the pressure of getting back to her old standards was a heavy load on her shoulders. Her appointment with the physio had been full of warnings against overtraining and focusing on a slower but safer road to full recovery. 

Alexia knew all of this. She knew that overworking herself would only slow her down in the end. But she was stubborn. The guilt she felt for her club, her teammates, the fans, who had yet to see the return of their queen, was simply too strong. 

She wasn’t surprised when Monday , two days before the game, she felt some discomfort in her knee. It wasn’t pain, yet, but it was enough to allow fear to grasp at her mind. 

Rosalie could see it from the sidelines, the anxiety slowly creeping in the blonde’s eyes. She was slower than normal, running through the drills with a carefulness she hadn’t seen her use before. She wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change in intensity. Jonatan soon after called for the captain who immediately ran to him, making a tremendous effort to hide the slight limp she had developed in the course of the session. 

Their exchange was fast. Alexia clearly seemed to want to finish this session and was arguing her case with as much intensity as she would with a ref during a game. Jonatan stayed strong, even with the captain towering over him. 

At this point, their argument had pulled the attention of several of the girls. Rosalie lowered her camera, not wanting to breach what clearly was a conversation meant to stay between player and coach. When she realized that Martina failed to show the same respect as her, she positioned herself between the pair and the head of media’s phone. 

“ I doubt this is the entertainment the fans want.” She said with a raised eyebrow. She had heard from the players how Martina could sometimes be invasive but she hasn’t seen her cross the line just yet. 

A dry laugh escaped Martina’s lips as she finally lowered her phone. “Si, si, you are right.” She said as she moved farther on the sidelines. Rosalie turned back around just in time to see Alexia storm off the pitch, leaving a discouraged Jonatan behind. 

“ Thank you Rosa.” Mapi said, approaching the photographer. “ Ale would have been livid if this came out in one of her instagram stories.” 

“Would she really?”

“ She has before.” Mapi said with bitterness in her tone. 

“ I’m starting to understand why Alexia is so wary of the media team.” Rosalie made a move towards the tunnel but was stopped by a hand on her wrist. 

“I know you want to make sure she’s alright, but for now Ale needs a minute to process.” Mapi said with a sad smile. Rosalie knew the Spanish woman was right, and she could not just leave practice to go comfort the captain. 

“ Oui, oui I understand.” She said, picking back up her camera. The rest of the practice seemed to drag on to no end for the photographer who wanted nothing more than to see how the blonde was doing. 

Once training was over, Rosalie learned that Alexia had been sent to the physios to assess the situation. Not wanting to disturb the professional, she went back to her office to work in the editing of the pictures she had taken. 

Once again, her afternoon seemed a lot slower than usual, and for one of the first times since she had started this job, Rosalie left her office at the same time as the rest of the staff. 

Lucy and Keira could not believe their eyes when they saw the Canadian walk out of the building. 

“Are you feeling alright Frenchy?” Keira asked, almost worried for her friend.  

“Oui oui, I just thought finishing early would hurt once in a while.”

“Who are you?” Lucy asked, grabbing the younger woman by the shoulders. 

“Non mais voyons lâches moi.” The brunette said, laughing loudly. 

“Wanna come by for dinner? We could watch a movie or something.” Keira asked, happy to finally have the opportunity to finally spend some time with her best friend. 

“Sure! That’s a great idea!” They all walked together in the parking lot, discussing what they would watch, when a specific dark grey cupra caught the attention of the photographer. 

“Isn’t that Alexia’s car?”

“Yeah, I thought she left at the same time as the rest of us.” Lucy said, checking her watch. At this time, the medical staff had already left and no one was left in the gym. 

“I hope she’s ok.” Rosalie said as she came to a stop half way to her car. Lucy and Keira could practically see the dilemma forming in the younger woman’s head. They knew that she would not ditch them, even if her heart was telling her to go see the Catalonian.

“Go.” Lucy decided for her. Rosalie sent a thankful look towards the couple as she turned around and almost dashed to the training center. 

She let her instincts guide her to the pitch, where she found the blond sitting alone on a ball. She  took a seat next to her. They stayed silent for a while, until the blonde was ready to talk 

“I am not playing on Wednesday.” The blonde said, her gaze not leaving the pitch. “They want to prevent further deterioration.”

The brunette shuffled closer to the footballer. “Can you still train?”

“ In the gym, yes, and light drills.” She said sadly. 

Rosalie took a second to take in the footballer's sad features. With her foot, she kicked the ball slightly under Alexia, just hard enough to make her lose balance and slide to the floor. As soon as the ball was free, Rosalie dashed down the pitch to the nearest goal and sent the ball in the top right corner. When she turned back towards the blond, she was still sitting on the floor with a very cute and confused expression. 

“Come on! What are you gonna do about that?” The photographer yelled arms in the air with what Alexia thought was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. 

“Are you scared of an amateur, La Reina?” Rosalie knew she had her now. Alexia got up and slowly jogged to the goal to retrieve the ball. She kicked it in the brunette’s direction and stood a few feet away from her. 

“ I just know that you  are no amateur Rosalia.” She said with a soft smile. 

As soon as the brunette touched the ball, Alexia’s whole demeanour changed. Her face was the epitome of focus and her whole body tensed, revealing her taut muscles. The sight was intimidating to say the least, but Rosalie was not going to let the opportunity to show off a little pass. 

She dashed forward, ball at her feet, pulling all the tricks she could think of. She was fast, but Alexia seemed to be able to predict her every move and soon enough, the photographer ended up on her ass, no ball in sight. 

A loud laugh was heard behind her. She turned around to see Alexia with one foot on the ball, seemingly trying very hard to keep her composure. 

“ You’re fast, and skilled, but a tiny bit predictable.” She said, offering a hand to pull the photographer up. 

“Rematch.” Was all the photographer said as she took the ball from the blond and positioned herself once again. Alexia smiled at the brunette’s eagerness. She had found someone as competitive as her. 

They were at it for  almost an hour, with Rosalie successfully scoring a grand total of seven times against Alexia who blocked at least twelve attempts.

 Rosalie, unsatisfied with these statistics, almost begged the footballer for one last attempt. Whoever won this, would win the whole game. 

“ I think I have you now Reina.” Rosalie said with a cheeky smile. 

“ Don’t get so cocky now bonita, I won’t go easy on you.” The nickname made the photographer blush furiously, but she refused to let it distract her. She finally launched her attack , but Alexia’s response was so fast Rosalie wasn’t even able to register what was happening. She was left standing alone in the field while Alexia was already halfway across the pitch, sending the ball in a perfect arc in the opposite goal. 

Rosalie sat on the grass and let herself fall on her back dramatically, arms in a cross. Alexia retrieved the ball and ran back to the photographer, flopping down almost on top of her. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, but she made no move to get out from under the blond. 

“ I think it is safe to say that I won.” Alexia said, still laughing. No answer came from the brunette, who was too mesmerized by the blond’s eyes and the feeling of her weight on top of her. 

Her smile softened as her eyes shifted to the captain’s lips. Alexia seemed to finally notice the position they were in, as well as how little space separated the two. She could feel the rapid pulse of the photographer, which matched her own. The pull was magnetic, and every second passing seemed to eat away at the woman’s resolve. 

They did not know who reached for who first, their movements almost synchronized. 

Her lips were even softer than Rosalie had imagined. They fit perfectly on her own and it felt like something had just clicked. She could feel the tension in the captain’s body slowly fade away, as if she was melting in their embrace. The shift of weight brought the delicious feeling of the footballer’s body moving on her, which pulled a small moan from the brunette. 

The sound caught Alexia’s attention. She smiled into the kiss, which made the smaller woman pull away slightly. When she saw the happy expression on the footballer’s face, she smiled and angled her head away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the blond. Alexia’s hand came up and caressed the photographer’s cheek before diving back in for a slow kiss. The contrast between Alexia’s callous hands and her soft lips made the photographer’s head spin. 

They pulled away when oxygen became an issue. Alexia thought, as she looked at the smaller woman who’s pupils were blown and lips swollen from their kiss, she realized that she needed to see more of this blissed out version of the photographer. 

Rosalie’s expression changed, mistaking Alexia’s silence for regret. “I’m so sorry I didn’t want to overstep I’m…” she was interrupted by the feeling of the blonde’s lips back on her. 

“ Don’t apologize, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” She said with a smile. They got back up and retrieved their bags. None of them uttered a word as they walked back to their car, content in the comfortable silence. Alexia stopped next to the photographer’s car, holding the door open for Rosalie. 

“Thank you,” Alexia said with a shy smile. “I needed this.”

“Which one, the game or the kiss?”

“I think it’s safe to say both.” She said with a grin. 

Rosalie had a love-hate relationship with her phone. She liked the convenience of having a decent camera always with her, but she hated the constant buzzing and being bombarded by text and notifications. She kept her phone on silent outside of work hours.

 If she had it on, she would have seen the notification of a new instagram story on the club’s account. She would have seen that she had been tagged in it, along with Alexia’s account. She would have seen the massive wave of messages flooding her dms. 

Instead, it was in her bed , when she reached for her phone in order to set her alarm, that she realized exactly how invasive the head of social media could really be. 

The video wasn’t too bad really. It captured the moment of the photographer’s fall after she had lost to the captain and Alexia toppling on her a few moments later. To anyone else, it simply looked like two friends having fun after a long day at work but to the women’s football community, it was a lot more. 

Emotions flooded the brunette all at once. Never would she have thought that her privacy would be so easily exposed to the world. She never wanted to be thrusted into the spotlight, and all this attention made all the color drain from her face. 

The feeling only grew much worse when Rosalie thought of Alexia. She knew how the blonde felt about her life being exposed to the public eye. 

Rosalie didn’t sleep that night, and the consequences were very visible the next morning when she pulled up at the training center. She had ignored all of Ingrid and Mapi’s numerous calls and texts, and only answered a thumbs up to Lucy and Keira’s worried messages. 

For the brunette, it was impossible to think about anything else than Alexia’s reaction to all this. The facility was quieter than usual, due to the fact that Rosalie had opted to arrive later to avoid crossing paths with anyone. Surprisingly, Ingrid was sitting in the lobby, and got up as soon as she saw the Canadian enter. 

Rosalie froze and didn’t move when the Norwegian made a move to hug her. «How are you? »

« Worried.» the photographer said in a small voice. « My phone won’t stop buzzing. »

The raven hair girl tightened her hold before letting go and grabbing her arm to start guiding the brunette down the corridor. 

 « The media team and the coaches have called a meeting to deal with the situation. Alexia is there as well. »

« How is she? »

« Very angry. » Ingrid said. She panicked a little as she saw her friend’s face fall. « Not at you Rosy! She’s in this state mainly because this time, Martina dragged someone dear to her in this mess. »

Rosalie blushed slightly at that and stayed silent for the rest of the walk. They arrived in front of a room where loud and rapid Spanish conversations could be heard through the closed door. Ingrid sent an encouraging look to the photographer before pushing her inside the room. 

Inside was a long table where Jonatan, Sara, Marcelo, Martina, Alexia and another man she did not recognize were all sitting. The room went quiet as the Canadian entered. Jonatan got up and smiled at the nervous photographer. 

« Bon dia Rosalie, take a seat. » he said motioning to the open seat next to Sara, which happened to be right across Alexia. Just like Ingrid had said, the captain looked livid, anger overtaking all of her features, making her look cold and almost Dangerous. 

« Hey, I’ll translate if it gets too fast.” Rosalie sent a grateful nod her way, but when the conversation started back, they had switched to English to make sure the photographer would follow. 

“ As I was saying, it is simply unacceptable to use the player’s personal life to promote the club. Let’s not forget that this video was taken outside of training hours and I am certain none of the girls gave their consent to post this.” Jonatan said, turning to Rosalie to confirm his statement. 

“ I never gave my consent, nor was even aware of being filmed during that time.” She said in a shaky voice. 

“ But you were at the training centre. That makes it ok to film since what happens inside these walls is club business.” Martina said, clearly trying to justify her actions. “ It was a wholesome moment that attracted a lot of attention to the club.” She added. 

Every word coming out of the woman’s mouth seemed to chip away at Alexia’s patience. She decided that she had been silent long enough and it was time to show just how angry she truly was. 

“ Attention? You exposed us for attention? You forcefully pulled Rosalie at the forefront of an obsessed fan base who’s been harassing us for the last 12 hours, for attention?” She said, the sound of her voice getting louder and more aggressive with every word. 

“You don’t realize the impact your actions have on other people. As players, we know that we are constantly being watched and that our lives are but a source of entertainment for others. But Rosalia never asked for any of this. She doesn't deserve this violation of her privacy.” She added, sending a look in the photographer’s way. One that greatly reassured the brunette. Alexia was trying to protect her. 

“We are tired of the abuse the head of social media  has perpetuated and the team, along with the coaches, ask management to take action against the perpetrators.” Alexia sat back in her chair. The rest of the table was silent, waiting to see who would dare speak after Alexia’s declaration. 

Finally, the man Rosalie did not know coughed a little and spoke in spanish, too fast for Rosalie to be able to understand properly. 

“He said that from now on, Marcelo would be acting as head of social media and that every post Matina would prepare would have to be approved beforehand.” Sara whispered to the brunette. She turned just in time to see Martina’s face fall and Alexia’s smirk appear. 

“There is still the matter of the video itself.” Marcelo said, pulling out his computer. “Millions of people have already seen it. Taking it down now would only attract more attention to it.” He said, turning his screen so they could all see the statistics. 

“ The response is mainly positive and Alexia told me that the messages she’s been receiving are mostly positive.” The new head of socials turned towards the photographer. “ What about you?”

“I haven’t read anything really, but none of my notifications stood out.” She said pulling out her phone and opening the app for the first time since the night before. 

“ So it seems that for now, most people see this as the friendship we all know you two have. This is good. I think that the best course of action would be to leave it up, and simply continue our posting habits as usual, but featuring the other players more.” He said with confidence. 

“ We need to give the fans something else to focus on. We can post a fun interview from media day today along with an update on our injured players.” The solution seemed like a good  plan to the rest of the staff who all agreed and stood up. The man Rosalie had yet to know the name walked out first, followed closely by Martina who looked dead set on trying to explain her point of view. The fact that she seemed incapable of understanding what she had done was wrong baffled the brunette. She really did not regret her actions and Rosalie was starting to think that her consequences weren’t harsh enough. 

From the corner of her eye, the photographer saw Alexia abruptly stand up and bolt out of the room. Her instinct told her to follow, and she was glad she did because she arrived just in time to see Alexia trap Martina against the wall. 

“¿Viste algo más anoche?” She asked in a low, menacing voice. Her tone gave Rosalie chills, and she didn’t know if it was because of fear or something else. 

“No, me fui justo después, lo juro.” Martina said, visibly shaken by the taller woman’s action. Alexia released her and stormed out towards the locker room. When Rosalie passed her, she sent a strange look her way, as if she was trying to see something that would have evaded her keen snooping skills. 

Her gaze made the photographer feel uncomfortable as she quickened her steps. She pushed the door of the locker room and found Alexia, head in her hands, sitting at her cubicle. 

“Ale…” At the sound, the captain’s gaze met her own and Rosalie saw for the first time how Alexia truly felt about the whole ordeal. Fear and panic was visible in her hazel eyes as she stood up to pace around the room. 

“You shouldn’t be in here.” She said, eyes to the floor. “If someone sees…”

“Everyone is on the pitch, it's ok.” Rosalie could see Alexia getting agitated , so she decided to take a seat in the closet cubicle to her, on the opposite side of the room. 

“I knew this would happen. It’s always the same thing with your team.” She said, still pacing.

“My team?” Rosalie said incredulously. 

“Si, you can’t stop putting your nose in other’s lives and it’s hell for the rest of us.” Alexia said, stopping in her tracks to look at the brunette. 

Rosalie was too stunned to speak. Her expression was a mix of hurt and sadness that broke the captain’s heart as soon as she saw it. 

Rosalie knew that Alexia was angry and it was this anger that pushed her to say these things, but she couldn’t help how bad she felt after hearing it. 

“ I thought you knew I wasn’t like this. I would never breach your privacy like this.” 

“ I know, I know.” Alexia said, trying to calm down. “Maybe we should just be colleagues,” she said in a small voice, incapable of looking the photographer in the eyes. She knew that if she did, she would cross the room and take the smaller woman in her arms, apologize and tell her that everything would be alright. 

“Is that what you really want?” 

“Si.” 

“Then there’s nothing I can do but respect your decision.” Rosalie said in a sad voice. She turned around and walked out of the locker room, leaving Alexia alone. 

As soon as the brunette left, Alexia sat back down. She felt like her legs weren’t able to carry her anymore. Her hands were shaking and a heavy feeling lingered in her heart. 

She knew that what she had just done was cold, but it was the only way she could protect her from the scrutiny of the public eye. She knew Rosalie was like her, a very private person and the moment the photographer crossed the threshold of the confederation room, she could see from how small she looked, how much this was affecting her. Distancing herself from the French-Canadian was the only option to keep Rosalie, and herself, out of the spotlight. 

When she finally mustered up the strength to get out on the pitch, her eyes immediately scanned the field for the family silhouette of the brunette. She only found one of the other photographers and the rest of the media team. Thankfully, Martina was nowhere in sight. 

Alexia walked to the huddle in the center of the pitch and took a spot next to Lucy. The woman turned around and sent a glare her way, almost frightening the captain. The rest of practice was hell for the midfielder. She made mistake after mistake, missing targets on her passes and unable to complete plays that she usually had no difficulty doing.    

She simply could not stop thinking about how it all went down this morning. She knew that it would be hard to stay away from the photographer, especially now that the feeling of the woman’s soft lips was ingrained in her mind, but she had not planned feeling this sort of withdrawal so soon. 

As soon as the photographer reached her office, the tears that were threatening to fall ran down her cheeks. It was all too much at the same time for the woman. Her phone blowing up with various messages from fans, her anger towards the former head of social media, Alexia’s rejection and the workload that came a few days before a match, was simply more than what she could handle emotionally. 

So Rosalie did what she always did when it became too much. She buried herself in her work and training. She spent her whole day barricaded in her office, arranging the photoshoot schedule for the next month and working on the fan project. She skipped lunch and stayed well after the last staff member had left. She ignored the messages from Lia and Leah who had seen the story and wanted to know if their friend was alright, and sent a quick answer to Lucy, who she had briefly talked to before hiding in her office. She needed to be alone, isolate herself from the world for a bit. 

Having the match here in Barcelona came as a relief for Rosalie who didn’t have to take the team bus or interact with anyone before the actual match. She had tasked the other photographers to take the arrival pictures and was able to receive and edit them in her office while everyone was preparing. 

With Alexia on the bench, Rosalie found her job sligh harder than normal due to the piercing gaze she could feel on her back. It took every ounce of self control to not turn and meet her gaze head on. She knew that if she did, she would forgive the blond for the harsh words she had said. So she focused on her job, and did not linger on the pitch once the team secured the win. 

The rest of the week stayed more or less the same for the French-Canadian. Wake up, run, breakfast, work, strength training, sleep then repeat.  She had declined coffee with Ingrid and Mapi and had yet to decide if she was going to show up at the team bonding night, which was scheduled in 3 days. 

All week she could see, as well as the rest of the team, that Alexia was clearly not in the right mindset. Her temper was short and she easily lost her patience when training wasn’t going the way she wanted. The whole team had come to fear the blonde and simply did not know how to approach their captain. 

When it became clear that Alexia’s mood wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Mapi decided that it was time to have a talk. Which is why, when the midfielder was sulking all alone on the sidelines, she was swiftly grabbed by the jersey and dragged in the stands.

 From their spot, they could see the rest of the girls doing drills and for a moment, Alexia was able to take a breath. She had loved watching her teammates practice when she herself could not play. She used to close her eyes and visualize herself back in the field. But for now, she was focused on the reason why her friend had dragged her in the stands in the middle of training. 

The tattooed woman stayed silent while she kept looking at the blonde in the eyes. 

“What?”

“You are going to talk to me now.”

“What about?” Alexia knew exactly what Mapi was hinting at, but she still tried to act confused. 

“ You know exactly what I’m talking about, now spill.” Mapi said with a stern expression. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s the same thing every time any of us gets close to someone. We get exposed and our whole lives are scrutinized. I don’t want this and I am pretty sure she doesn’t want that either.”

“You are scared.”

“No.”

“Alexia, you can’t let this dictate your life.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t be distracted by all this. I can’t have people think football is not my priority.”

“They won’t. Ale you are human, you are allowed to have a life outside of football. We all saw you with her. You haven’t been this happy in a long time.” Mapi said, trying to reason with her friend. She could see that beneath this facade, the woman was simply scared to allow herself to thrive outside of football.

“It’s too late now, she probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anyway.” Alexia said.

“ I know for a fact that isn’t true. She cares about you too Alexia. Make it right.” Mapi got up and made her way down the stairs, leaving Alexia alone to think. She knew her friend was right, and she knew that the true motivation behind her decision to cut ties was fear, but the feeling was still so potent that the blond could simply not allow herself to act on her emotions. 

Alexia did not go back to practice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the photographer who was currently dying under the harsh Spanish sun. Even after last week, the brunette still caught herself seeking out the captain on the pitch. She shook her head and tried to focus back on her job, but the heat combined with the exhaustion caused by her excessive training and lack of proper sleep was a deadly combination. 

One second she was up, the next she was on her ass with her head on her knees, concentrating hard on staying conscious. The first to notice was Lucy, who bolted across the pitch, followed closely by Sara and Kiera. 

The last thing the photographer saw was Lucy crouching down in front of her, and the feeling of her hand on her forehead before the world went black. 

Rosalie woke up in Sarah's office with her head pounding and vision blurred. As soon as she opened her eyes, Lucy was all over her, making sure that the girl had everything she needed. The older English woman managed, after some arguing, to convince Rosalie to take the rest of the week off, since she had already finished her work and the rest of the photography team could manage without her just fine for two days. 

A knock suddenly echoed in the room and a silhouette blocked the frosted glass of the door. Lucy stood up from the chair and opened the door slightly before sliding out once realizing who was at the door. Rosalie could not clearly see who was at the door, but she could hear the faint sound of talking 

“Lucia I just want to know if she is ok.” 

“ I’m telling you she’s fine. It’s just exhaustion Alexia you can relax.” Rosalie could hear a long exhale that most likely came from the blonde. 

“Alexia, if you care about her so much why did you treat her like this.” Lucy asked. The captain stayed silent, but Lucy learned a lot more from the blond’s silence than any word could explain. 

“Make it right ale.” Lucy said, echoing the words Mapi had said to her just a few hours prior. 

Rosalie heard some footsteps and soon after, the door opened softly and a disheveled blond head poked through. Once she saw that the brunette was awake, Alexia realized that she had not planned what she would say to the photographer. 

“Hey..” Her voice was so hushed and shy that Rosalie almost didn’t hear it. 

“You can come in, you don’t have to hover at the door.”

“I won’t disturb you too long. I just wanted to see if you were ok.” She said, finally stepping in the room. 

“Just a bit dizzy still, but I’m fine.” She said,

“Good.” She stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around the room unable to look the brunette in the eyes. 

“I am sorry about the things I said. I was stressed and did not think before speaking.” Alexia finally said, taking  the few steps separating her from the chair next to the exam chair. 

“It’s ok, it was the stress talking, I can understand that this kind of pressure is hard to deal with.” The younger woman said. She couldn’t deny that the initial reaction had hurt her but after a while, especially after seeing the echo it had online, she was able to understand why one would react like that. “ But I want you to know that I don’t appreciate how you blamed me and my profession for someone else’s actions.” 

Rosalie could excuse the reaction, but this part still stung. “ I am not like that, I respect and value the privacy of every player in this team.”

“I know. I am truly sorry.” The brunette offered a smile which was answered by Alexia’s shy one.

“ Do you need me to drive you home?” Alexia offered.

“Thank you but Lucy has that covered I think.” 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Alexia asked with the slightest bit of hope in her voice.

“ I think I’ll take the next two days off and work from home if they need me.” 

“ But I’ll be there at team bonding night on Friday. The girls won’t let me miss it after disappearing on them these past two weeks.” She added when she saw the blond’s shoulder fall at her previous statement.

“ Good, I am glad you are ok Rosalia.” Alexia said, standing up and making her way to the door. “ I would like it if we could start over, be friends again.” The blond added.

“ I think we can do that.” Rosalie said with a smile.

“ Ok, you take care of yourself Rosalie please.” Alexia said before walking out of the room, leaving Rosalie alone, feeling the best she had all week.

[floralcrematorium]

2010s Nostalgia || Hetalia Edition

Hetalia Youtube Nostalgia Playlist | 117 songs | 7hr 5min

• Hey Na Na - Katie Herzig • Viva La Vida - Coldplay • Rasputin - Boney M. • Glad You Came - The Wanted • Hot Mess - Cobra Starship • Counting Stars - OneRepublic • Fireflies - Owl City • Bombshell Blonde - The Jagged Edges • Do Better - Say Anything • Welcome To The Show - Britt Nicole • Dance With The Devil - Breaking Benjamin • Survive - Sick Puppies • Life is Beautiful - Sixx:A.M. • Fairytale - Alexander Rybak • Everybody Loves Me - One Republic • Don't Mess With Me - temposhark • Mimimi - SEREBRO • I Like It Loud - Cash Cash • I Just Wanna Run - The Downtown Fiction • I'm ALIVE! - Becca • Lovestruck - Breathe Electric • I Like To Dance - Hot Chelle Rae • Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench • Kiss Me Thru The Phone - Soulja Boy, Sammie • Hard out Here - Lily Allen • Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars • I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy • Airplanes - B.o.B., Hayley Williams • Rock Star - Prima J • This Is War - Thirty Seconds To Mars • Hey Brother - Avicii • Cinderella - Tata Young • Centuries - Fall Out Boy • Déjà Vu - 3OH!3 • Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy Me - Lene Alexandra • Miss Jackson - Panic! At The Disco, LOLO • The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At The Disco • Europe's Skies - Alexander Rybak • Bad Apple!! - RichaadEB, Cristina Vee • Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic! At The Disco • Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco • Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco • Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco • Never Close Our Eyes - Adam Lambert • Playing With Fire - Ovi, Paula Seling • Angel With A Shotgun - The Cab • Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco • Killer - The Ready Set • How to Be a Heartbreaker - MARINA • This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - Fall Out Boy • Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) - My Chemical Romance • Troublemaker - Olly Murs, Flo Rida • Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship, Leighton Meester • I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters • One Woman Army - Porcelain Black • How To Start A War - Simon Curtis • Maps - Maroon 5 • Do Better - Say Anything • STARSTRUKK - 3OH!3 • Remember Everything - Five Finger Death Punch • The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin • Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes • When You're Evil - Aurelio Voltaire • Canadian, Please - Julia Bentley, Gunnarolla • Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco • Take Me to Church - Hozier • Viking Death March - Billy Talent • Headstrong - Trapt • Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind • Don't Believe A Word - Third Eye Blind • Warriors - Imagine Dragons • iNSaNiTY - CircusP • Paralyzer - Finger Eleven • I'm Awesome - Spose • 24 - Jem • Clarity - Zedd, Foxes • Hall of Fame - The Script, will.i.am • The Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco • Immortals - Fall Out Boy • Rather Be - Clean Bandit, Jess Glynne • Wake Me Up - Avicii • a thousand years - Christina Perri • Just Like Fire - P!nk • Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars • Safe And Sound - Capital Cities • Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde • Demons - Imagine Dragons • DNA - Little Mix • Remember The Name - Fort Minor, Styles of Beyond • Victorious - Panic! At The Disco • 右肩の蝶 (Butterfly On Your Right Shoulder) - Kagamine Rin/Len • We Are One (Ole Ole) - Pitbull, Jennifer Lopez, Claudia Leitte • Hero - Skillet • Maraca - Mohombi • The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy • DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3 • Teenage Dream - Katy Perry • SING - My Chemical Romance • Good Time - Owl City, Carly Rae Jepsen • White Rabbit - Egypt Central • Not Gonna Die - Skillet • The Kill - Thirty Seconds To Mars • We No Speak Americano - Yolanda Be Cool, DCup • Nobody's Listening - Linkin Park • Disco Pogo - Die Atzen • German Sparkle Party - The Something Experience • Dirty Little Secret - The All-American Rejects • I Could Be The One - Avicii, Nicky Romero • Can't Hold Us - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis • Still Into You - Paramore • Primadonna - MARINA • Pompeii - Bastille • 恋愛サーキュレーション (Renai Circulation) - 物語シリーズ • Awake And Alive - Skillet • Monster - Skillet • Poker Face - Lady Gaga • Falling Inside The Black - Skillet

[redmyeyes]

Fellow Travelers Timeline

(as comprehensive as i can make it. corrections/additions welcome)

1919-20 (?) - Hawk is born

based on tennis trophy which shows year 1936, and hawk's statement that he and kenny were on the tennis team in 11th grade (16/17 years old).

also date on the paperweight (1937) that hawk says kenny picked out on their senior trip. spring or fall though? if spring (usual for a senior trip, just before graduation), it would mean hawk graduated HS in 1937, b. 1919. (thanks, @lestatscunt!)

June 6, 1930 - Tim is born, on Staten Island, NY

birthdate/place shown on army application in ep 5

Gemini, with moon in Libra

>>> With a Gemini Sun Libra Moon, emotional equilibrium is hard for you to maintain in a world of constant flux and tension. Since you are not responsible for the woes and upsets of those around you, you should not feel so duty-bound to assuage their wounds or mediate every conflict that happens to come your way.

>>> your natural diplomacy, extraordinary perception and insight can all be applied creatively in such fields as politics, social work, and the mass media.

>>> your extreme open-mindedness would probably enable you to almost any life-style. You have a universal quality about you that transcends culture, religion, ideology, or any other barrier that divides mankind.

Fall 1937 - Spring 1941 - Hawk attends "Penn", presumably the University of Pennsylvania. (assuming hawk b. 1919)

(this is very very long, the rest is under the cut)

December 7, 1941 - bombing of Pearl Harbor, US enters WWII

??? - Hawk joins the army (along with Kenny), and is sent to Europe.

January 9 – August 15, 1945 - Battle of Luzon, where Kenny dies.

September 2, 1945 - Japan surrenders, US exits WWII

February, 1949 - Hawk starts working at the State Department

Hawk says in 1x04 (Dec 1953) that he's been working at the State Dept for "four years and ten months".

"I came out of the war with four assets: degree from Penn, a hero's war record, no particular political ideology, and a passing acquaintance with three languages. Throw in a talent for prevaricating and a taste for travel and fine clothes, you have the makings of a competent, mid-level Foreign Service bureaucrat."

Fall 1948 - Spring 1952 - Tim attends Fordham University, graduating with a degree in political science and history.

1951 - Hawk starts work for the Bureau of Congressional Relations

Tim mentions Hawk's been working there for two years during their meeting on the bench.

1952 - Tim works "the New York campaign" (presumably for Eisenhower).

1952/3? - Tim interns for three months at the Star, in the mailroom.

November 4, 1952 - Election Night, Eisenhower (R) wins the presidency. Tim/Hawk first meet and are instantly smitten. (ep 1)

February 16, 1953 to March 10, 1954 - McCarthy Hearings, part 1.

The first consisted of a series of hearings conducted by McCarthy, as the subcommittee’s chairman, throughout 1953 and early 1954 in which McCarthy alleged Communist influence within the press and the federal government, including the State Department, the U.S. Army, and the Government Printing Office.

March 5, 1953 - Stalin dies.

Late March, 1953 - Hawk/Tim second meeting

After Hawk meets Tim at the park bench, he attends a hearing where Marcus says Cohn has brought David Schine on, and then later at their lunch Senator Smith says, "McCarthy is sending Cohn and his sidekick to Europe..." This article, dated April 19, says that Cohn and Schine have been in Europe for two weeks.

Hawk mentions that it's near the end of the month, police need to make their quotas.

April 27, 1953 - Executive Order 10450 signed. Hawk goes to Tim's apartment and tells him about Kenny. (ep 1)

June 6, 1953 - Tim's 23rd birthday (Hawk 'misses' it because they weren't talking for 4 weeks. belated celebration in ep 3.)

June 15, 1953 (?) - date of the newspaper Tim is reading just before he goes to visit Hawk in ep 2, where Hawk makes him write the letter to Mary. I'm choosing to believe this is a mistake on the show's part, because this would mean that Hawk has already missed Tim's birthday.

June 19, 1953 - Julius and Ethel Rosenberg's execution. Hawk comforts Lucy about this at the end of ep 2. So, likely Hawk and Tim had their big fight very shortly before Tim's birthday, and weren't talking from end of May - end of June.

End of June, 1953 - at the end of ep 2, Tim says it's been 4 months since his last confession, making his last (proper) confession the end of Feb or beginning of March. (ie, before he meets Hawk again).

End of June or beginning of July, 1953 - weekend trip to Rehoboth Beach (ep 3)

November 1953 - G. David Schine drafted into the army (ep 3)

Christmas 1953 (ep 4)

March 16 to June 17, 1954 - Army-McCarthy Hearings (part 2) (ep 5)

The second phase involved the subcommittee's investigation of McCarthy’s attacks on the U.S. Army. Known as the “Army-McCarthy hearings,” they were broadcast on national television and they contributed to McCarthy’s declining national popularity. Five months later, on December 2, 1954, the Senate censured McCarthy.

June 6, 1954 - Tim's 24th birthday

June, 1954? - Tim/Hawk break up, Hawk proposes to Lucy (ep 5)

I believe this happens at the tail-end of the Army-McCarthy hearings, so before June 17th.

Fall, 1954 - Sen. Smith's funeral

based solely on fall foliage in this screenshot:

Late Nov / Early Dec, 1954 - Tim enlists in the army

based on army application: birthdate 6/6/30, age: 24 years, 6 months

Late Nov / Early Dec, 1954 - Hawk/Tim last meeting in the tower

based on the radio program Tim is listening to, which says, "Chief Counsel Roy Cohn has resigned from the committee. And Senator McCarthy, his approval ratings plummeting, faces censure or even expulsion from the Senate."

Tim leaves for Fort Dix, for training, but is later stationed at Fort Polk, in Vernon Parish, LA. (thanks, @jesterlesbian!)

December 2, 1954 - the Senate censures McCarthy.

Summer or Fall 1956? - Tim's letter (that lucy burns) (ep 6)

Flashbacks, for context:

"Since he's giving up his apartment, Hawk insists on having a lair in the woods." // "I'm surprised that he finally agreed."

Lucy lets contractor go. // "Give me a baby."

Hawk is reading the Bristol Daily Courier, a paper located in Bristol, PA, a town in Bucks County, outside Philadelphia. I can't find any info on the one headline I can read though ("Heath Carlson breaks arws deadlock, locals proud"), so can't date this properly.

Lucy cleaning out Hawk's apartment, finds paperweight, sees Tim drop off letter.

"I went into the Army to get away from you. I thought time and distance would help. But it hasn't." If Tim sends the letter in summer 1956, it's been a year and a half since he enlisted.

Biggest question here: did lucy ask for a baby before or after she read Tim's letter??? the flashbacks don't answer this definitively.

October, 1956? - Lucy becomes pregnant with Jackson (see note under April 1957)

October 23 – November 4, 1956 - Hungarian Revolution of 1956

October 23, 1956 - April 30, 1957 - Hungarian Refugee Crisis

November 8, 1956 - Operation Safe Haven commences

President Eisenhower declared that 5,000 Hungarians would be awarded visa numbers remaining under the 1953 Refugee Relief Act

Spring 1957? - Tim sends telegram. It looks like 05-??-???? to me, which doesn't really make sense if McCarthy died on May 2nd, but it's hard to make out. or maybe telegrams used the date format dd-mm-yyyy.

April 1957? - Tim/Hawk first meeting, Lucy at least 5 (or 6? or 7?) months pregnant

You should feel your baby's first movements, called "quickening," between weeks 16 and 25 of your pregnancy. If this is your first pregnancy, you may not feel your baby move until closer to 25 weeks. 

25 weeks ~= 6 months, and it still seems novel to her, so let's say she's approx. 6 months pregnant here.

May 2, 1957 - Joe McCarthy dies.

May 6, 1957 - McCarthy's funeral. Tim's first visit to Hawk's apartment (ep 8)

June 6, 1957 - Tim turns 27.

June or July, 1957 - Jackson born (based on dates above)

1958? - Kimberly is born. (estimated bc she looks the same age or older than Jackson, so assuming she's a year younger at most.)

August, 1965 - President Johnson signs a law making it a federal crime to destroy or mutilate [draft] cards. 

October 15, 1965 -David Miller publicly burns his draft card, becoming the first person to be prosecuted under that law and a symbol of the growing movement against the war.

May 17, 1968 - the Catonsville Nine took 378 draft files from the draft board office in Catonsville, Maryland and burned them in the parking lot. (inspo for Tim & co. thanks @brokendrums!)

November 1968 - ep 6. Hawk is 48-9, Tim is 38, Jackson is 11.

based on this newspaper screenshot when Hawk is talking to Marcus on the phone about Tim

November 1968 - May 1970 (earliest) - Tim in prison. (he says in ep 7 he was in prison for a year and a half. this assumes he went to prison right away, but it could have been several months later if he was awaiting trial/sentencing.)

1970? - After prison, Tim moves to San Francisco and gets his counseling degree.

Mid-late 1970s - Tim earns his C-SWCM qualifications, requiring:

A Bachelor’s degree in social work from a graduate program accredited by the Council on Social Work Education

Documentation of at least three (3) years and 4,500 hours of paid, supervised, post-BSW professional experience in an organization or agency that provides case management services

Current state BSW-level license or an ASWB BSW-level exam passing score.

nb. because Tim already had his bachelors (from Fordham, majoring in history), I could see him entering a much-accelerated BSW program, transfering a lot of credits from his previous degree. That would give him maybe 2 more years of university, plus the required 3 years of post-BSW work = 5 years minimum before he earns that business card.

February 4, 1977 - Fleetwood Mac's album Rumours is released, including the 1970s Tim/Hawk anthem, Go Your Own Way

October, 1978 - Jackson dies

November 27, 1978 - Harvey Milk assassinated

May 20-22, 1979 - Tim on Fire Island (ep 7). Hawk is 59 or 60, Tim is 48, about to turn 49.

May 22, 1979 - Harvey Milk's (posthumous) 49th birthday (celebrated in ep 7)

1986 - ep 8

how long was Hawk in San Francisco? Timelines for the events below may be fudged in the show, bc I doubt he was there for 5 months.

March, 1986 - Roy Cohn's 60 Minutes interview, which the gang watches in ep 4.

April 15, 1986 - US bombs Libya. in the first episode you can hear reference to this on the radio, before Hawk leaves for San Francisco. (thanks @aliceinhorrorland93!)

July 27, 1986 - In California, Gov. George Deukmejian vetoes a bill that would have defined AIDS as a physical handicap calling for entitlement to protection under the state's civil rights laws.

August 2, 1986 - Roy Cohn dies (ep 8)

Late 1986? - the fundraising gala that Tim crashes, shortly after Cohn's death.

September 1986 - The State Legislature has passed another bill [in addition to the one vetoed on July 27]. Mr. Deukmejian, a Republican running for re-election, has indicated that he will probably veto the bill. (nb, this is likely the bill that Tim & co want to pressure the governor to sign).

October 11, 1987 - AIDS memorial quilt first displayed (ep 8)

--

this was a collaborative effort! many thanks to @ishipallthings for many of these details, as well as @startagainbuttercup , @alorchik, @itsalinh and others in the FT discord!

[artificialbreezy]

Welcome Home

AN: had this lovely idea with @as-above-so-below1000 and got a lil carried away. please enjoy this fluffy smutty piece.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

CW: Fluff, poorly written smut, unedited, pet names, if i’m missing anything please let me know

NSFW below the cut ◡̈

Noah had just gotten home from a long and very tiring couple of months overseas. He missed his lover in more ways than one and he couldn’t wait to get home to her. Days felt like weeks, weeks felt like months and all he wanted was to have her as close to him as possible. He didn’t care if that meant he took her to work with him, or she sat on the shower floor while he showered. He just wanted her, all of her. When he finally made through the threshold of his home and saw his pretty girl seated comfortably in the corner of the sectional, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He was home. She was home to him. “Oh baby, I missed you so much.” he sighed out loud. She jumped off the couch and ran to Noah. “Missed you way more! How was it? Did Europe treat you good?” He nodded down at this partner, holding her as close to him as he could. “Why don’t we go upstairs and cuddle. Just wanna hold ya” he mumbled into her hair. She nodded happily, grabbed his hand and made their way up to their shared bedroom.

Noah overheard a conversation between Nick and Jolly about cockwarming and the thought hasn’t left his mind. They said it truly was the way to be close to your partner. It wasn’t just sex, it was a way to feel them and be close. That’s all Noah wanted in that moment. He saw her sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling up at him. He knew he had to ask, he knew he needed to at least try. She could say no and he wouldn’t be mad, but he needed to push his worry of that to the side or he’d never ask. “Hey baby, can I ask you something real quick? he asked her quietly. She looked at him slightly confused, “course you can Noah.” He took a deep breath, “I heard the boys talking about something and I wanna try it out. I just missed you so much and I feel like nothing I do is gonna get you as close to me as this is and I just. I want you to sit on my cock.” Her eyes widened at his direct admission. “But not like riding me. I just wanna feel you. Hold you close, kiss on you a little. I just wanna have you as close to me as I can.” She stood up and nodded at him. “Okay. We can do that, I wanna do that.” She said to the man in front of her. Noah grabbed her hand and pulled her in between his spread legs.

“You can always say when you want to stop. Whenever it’s too much for you then we’ll be all done. Understood?” She reached up and held his face in her hands, “I understand Noah. I’ll take whatever you give me, happily.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He reached down and grabbed the bottom of her shirt and slowly tugged it over her head, leaving her standing in front of him in just a pair of shorts. “No bra today?” he chuckled at the girl in front of her, “scandalous thing you are.” She took a step and took her shorts off. “Noah, I think you have too many clothes for what we’re about to do.” He laughed at his girlfriend's comment and lifted his shirt off his body. He pushed her gently towards his bed, undid the button on his jeans and slowly pulled those off his legs. “Ya sure you’re okay with this angel? Cause we can just cuddle naked and call it a day.” He saw her blush a light shade of pink and whisper, “wanna feel you.” He smirked at the girl and nodded. He climbed up into his bed and sat with his back to the wall. “C’mon pretty girl.” She climbed up into his lap and leaned down and pressed her lips to his. “I love you, Noah” she whispered against his mouth. “I love you more.” he responded. Before either one had time to speak more, she reached down and grabbed his member and lined it up to her entrance and slowly sank down. “Fucking hell. You’re so tight and warm” Noah grumbled. She leaned forward and laid her head against his chest, he reached behind her and started rubbing small circles on her back. They laid like that for what felt like hours. Until he adjusted and thrusted into her causing a soft whine to fall from her lips. He couldn’t ignore the sweet sound that fell from her and thrusted up again. “Noah, please” she moaned against his neck. “Whatcha need sweetie?” She groaned in response, suddenly feeling shy. “Can’t give you what you want unless you use your big girl voice baby.” “Again, please.” How could he tell her no? He thrusted his hips up softly. “Oh honey, I feel you squeezin me. You wanna cum don’t you? Want me to make you cum on my cock?” She nodded against him. He pressed a soft kiss to her head and grabbed her hips and slowly moved her against his cock. He wasn’t gonna let her do a single thing. He wanted her to sit there and look pretty while he wrecked her cunt. He picked up his pace and started moving her quicker, every now and then thrusting up just to feel her squeeze him. “Wanna cum, please.” She whimpered out. “Awe baby, don’t gonna ask me right now. Let go. Let me feel you cream my cock.” That was all she needed to let go. She bit down on his shoulder and grinned against him while she worked through her climax. “Fuck- i’m not gonna last baby.” “Cum inside me please Noah. Need it so bad. Missed you so much.” Noah groaned against her lips and gave one more thrust before he felt his cock twitch inside her. She moaned into the kiss as she felt his load leak inside her cunt. He slowed his movements and held her close. “I love you, so much. Thank you for that.” She quickly pecked his lips and smiled, “I have to say, I do feel way closer to you now. Might have to do that everytime you get home”

[lilghostiequinni]

His Dancer

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Exotic dancer!female oc (RaeLeigh;Ravenna) x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy (in the relationship), Strip club, Mature themes, Implied smut

Summary: Max takes Lando to a strip club, not expecting him to fall in love with the dancer he paid for. It was never thought to last; not many had known her, and those who did were few. No one knew what she did, but nothing can stay hidden for long.

Requested: NO / yes

Max brought Lando to a strip club for winning the Miami Grand Prix, the first win of the Briton's career in Formula One.

Max paid one of the dancers to take Lando into the back after a dance.

What Max doesn't expect is to go to Lando's hotel room to find the dancer from the night before leaving the room as he goes to knock.

The dancer offers a smile as she leaves through the door and down the hall.

"You brought her back last night?" He asks as he sees Lando make his way to the door.

"Yeah, I guess so. I had to wait until she got off," Lando then just turns and walks back into the suite as Max follows.

Max chuckles at his friend's admittance of having to wait.

There wasn't much Lando could do after he was told to enjoy himself for the night; it also didn't help what Max did, paying for a stripper to give him a lap dance and then to the back room.

It's no surprise that Lando waited all night until 2am, when her shift ended.

"What's your name?" She asked when she walked over to Lando.

When she sat across his lap, and he answered, "Lando."

"Oh, are we celebrating?" She asked him as she dragged her finger down his partially opened shirt.

"Yes, what is your name," Lando asks her, watching her face rather than the finger she moved lower and lower.

"Call me Ravenna, Lando," Even the way she said his name was enticing above all else. Lando just got lost in the woman on his lap.

"Your friend over there said that you needed a dance," Ravenna says to the man, hands now to herself, dragging them along her own body.

Lando was entranced and just nodded at Ravenna, not speaking a word because he was left speechless by her beauty.

After his dance, she stands and holds her hand out to Lando, which he takes, and leads him through the masses of people to the back, where Lando gets his own private show.

When he returns to the main area, he finds Max, who smiles at him and just pats his shoulder.

"Please welcome your favorite, her last night here before she jumps ship to Europe, Ravenna Quince!" The announcer says as the whole sense of the club changes, with many cheers.

By the time Ravenna has walked off the stage, she has no clothes on her being as she walks off the stage, throwing one last look into the crowd before she is out of sight, particularly at Lando.

Max leaves about 1am, leaving Lando to himself as he's taken most of Ravenna's attention for the night.

When her shift ends an hour later, she's walked out the door of the club only to find Lando waiting for her next to an Uber.

"I want to take you back with me."

"Yeah, that's not how it works," Raveena tells him as she goes to move away.

"Please, I know that it's crazy, but just tonight, I won my first Grand Prix in my 6th year of Formula One. Just one chance," Lando basically pleads while holding out his hand.

"Alright, just one pretty boy," She says as she grabs his hand.

Lando pulls her in and kisses her, "Ravenna." He says he pulls back.

"My name is Rae," She whispers as she pulls him in again before the Uber driver honks.

It doesn't take long for Rae to become important to Lando, and it doesn't take long for the opposite.

RaeLeigh quickly falls for the British driver, and by the end of the championship, they're dating, in secret of course.

In the 2025 season, Lando is pulling a strong game, gaining even more attention, and in an interview, he accidentally reveals his relationship with Rae to the world.

Media is a frenzy; that is what it becomes.

But with the publicity comes fans digging into past things and places that had been put down.

Rae had become a dancer to pay bills and as a means to save up for college; the night she met Lando, her life was already changing.

When fans learn of her past in dancing, most say she was in the wrong and was only with Lando for the money.

Just hours after fans started to bully his girlfriend, Lando posts about how true fans wouldn't bully the person who makes him truly happy.

He talks about how that's in the past, and they don't even know the true reasons for her being a dancer, only the rumors and theories that where untrue and thoughtless.

But something else about the day is the day Lando proposed after only a year because Rae truly was the light of his life in any situation and storyline, in any reality or universe.

A/N: I'm tired, but I'm going to do this; not quite how I wanted it to go, but oh well. Also, the photo at the top will be up later after I've slept. As will the rest of the F1 one-shots.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[milunalupin]

— tale as old as time

a/n: welcome to my beast!remus x beauty!reader series ! i hope you come along this journey with me and enjoy!

chapter one

remus lupin x reader ★ 1.4k words

Gowns and music filled the ballroom, the castle's servants walking around with silver trays of the most luxurious desserts in France. Beautiful and wealthy people danced around to the sound of the piano and the most famous opera singer money could buy in all of Europe.   

The ballroom was decked out in glimmering jewels and fresh flora, the smell of roses strong in the air.  In the middle was Prince Remus Lupin, twirling countless girls about, a smirk on his handsome powdered face.  The Lupins ruled the Alsace region, their wealth apparent by their acres of meticulously landscaped property, the glimmer of the sun on the enormous castle blinding. Remus was an only child who was raised by King Lyall and Queen Hope, until the queen passed away from an illness many years ago, leading the Prince to grow up with the influence of his cold and selfish father.

Staff members were forced to turn a blind eye when they would see the young master walk through the castle with watery eyes or badly hidden bruises. No matter how much they pitied him, his father would rid them of their job in a heartbeat if they dared speak up about it. With every passing year, Prince Remus grew to be increasingly more his father, prioritizing status over everything.  Remus' life was filled with anything he wanted, and obviously once you have everything, things get boring. So, he constantly hosted balls and invited only the most beautiful and influential people in France. Men and women came from all over the country dressed in the most lavish of outfits, trying to gain the attention of the young Prince. 

In a silky yellow tailcoat stood the royal family's head of kitchen staff, Sirius Black. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he stood along his colleagues, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.  "How many girls will leave crying tonight, do you think?" 

James, dressed in all white with embroidered lapels, rolled his eyes and frowned as he watched the Prince.  "He'll never get married if he keeps acting like this, never form a true bond with anyone." 

A huff came from Peter, who looked the worst out of the three of them (according to Sirius), in a simple brown waistcoat. He held his prized pocket watch in his hand, constantly checking the time to ensure the party was running smoothly.  "The prince's love life isn't really any of our business, Sirius." 

Peter Pettigrew, to say the least, was a suck up, and nothing but loyal to the royal family. It was in his blood; his family having served the royal family for decades. Naturally, he started working under his father in the administrative department and moving ranks until he was appointed head of house, managing the rest of the staff as His Highness' right-hand man. 

James Potter credits everything he has now to his beautiful mother, Euphemia, who was an incredible seamstress who worked in the castle years prior. Now, James assists the young master with his clothing as well as leads the housekeeping staff with his mini assistant Harry, who's favorite thing to do is fold the towels into swans. 

Sirius met James when they worked together at a pub in town before James accepted his position among the royal staff. He was an orphan who had run away from his abusive foster parents. Euphemia felt for the boy and had immediately taken them in like her own son. Cooking meals with his new family ignited his love for food and with help from the Potters, had gone to culinary school. Later, with James's help, began as a waiter at the castle turned kitchen manager. 

Prince Remus, to be frank, doesn't love, not really once his mother had passed. Once under the orders of his father, his image, and the people he surrounded himself with became a priority. Being human was being vulnerable, and being vulnerable was being weak. That's why he found himself surrounded by attractive women, knowing that each one hanging onto his arm believed that they would be the one he fell in love with, inheriting his fortune and power. His arm was around one of the maidens' waists, loosely spinning her as his eyes scanned the room for someone more interesting. 

"My lord, I can't help but believe you might have an interest in me. this is the second time we've danced tonight; you need not be so shy." 

His eyes dropped back to Amelie? Emily? who blushed under his gaze, looking up at him through her fluttering eyelashes. He scoffed and retracted his hand from her waist, pushing past her towards another, ignoring her pleas and attempts to grab his arm. As much fun as he had being the center of attention and being the one everyone wanted to be with, he despised the desperate ones, none of them being worth his actual time. 

"Papa, I brought the napkins you asked for!" 

Sirius, James, and Peter turned to find Harry, James's son, holding a stack of cloth napkins up to him with a bright smile, his glasses sliding down his nose. James grinned as he took the napkins from Harry, pushing his glasses back up his nose and fixing his hair. 

"Great job Harry, now run along." 

"You've got him working already Potter? A chip off the old block, that one is." Peter chuckled, smiling along his colleagues as they watched little Harry skip away. 

The doors suddenly burst open, a woman in a cloak falling to the ground, her hood slipping and exposing her ratty grey hair. The maidens closest to the door gasped and squealed as they backed up, trying to distance themselves from the old woman. The music has stopped, Prince Remus weaving his way through the crowd to stand before the elderly intruder. 

"Who let you in, peasant? This ball is invite only." 

The woman looked up, her cloudy grey eyes looking into the Prince's. She held up a single rose, offering him the flower for temporary shelter from the cold. Prince Remus scoffed, rolling his eyes at the woman. The party goers laughed at the old woman from the other side of the ballroom. 

A smirk appeared on the old woman's face, as her body under the cloak began to glow a warm yellow, what seemed liked enchanted haze spreading towards the aghast party goers. Flower petals began to float around the woman as she transformed into a younger, more beautiful version of herself, her now bright blue eyes staring into the Prince's. The guests screamed at they scrambled to escape the sorcery they've witnessed, polished shoes trampling over expensive fabric and rose petals. 

The royal staff looked on in fear, not knowing how to help their master in this situation. James weaved through the people rushing out and found Harry hiding in a corner. He picked him up and turned to head out the door but stopped when he heard a deep growl coming from the center of the room. 

The cloud of magic enveloped Prince Remus, his bones cracking and expanding as his body slowly transformed him into a large, furry monster. His perfect silk robes tearing and falling off the Prince's new body. Large curved horns grew out of his head, and his perfect teeth evolved into sharp fangs. His once perfect appearance turned into one of a menacing animal. 

The young Prince had failed his test from the enchantress. He had not shown kindness to a stranger in need and had confirmed his own selfishness and entitlement. He was mean and ugly on the inside, so she had turned him into who he really was, a beast. Adding on to that, she left a powerful spell on the castle and villagers, turning the royal staff into household objects for allowing the Prince's behavior, and erasing all memory of the royal castle and its inhabitants from the villagers. The curse was infinite, unless the prince managed to make someone fall in love with him. 

Over the years the castle grew colder, lonelier as Remus and his staff became more hopeless for a chance to end the curse. Snow had fallen over the crumbling castle and grounds, the bitterness of the cold outside matching what Remus was feeling in his heart. 

 He was doomed, turned into a disgusting monster for the rest of his days, because who could ever learn to love a beast? 

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Wintering | Yuletide🌟

Tom Bennett x fem!Reader

Summary: The war is over and Tom Bennett returns home, seeking comfort in a friend from his past.

Content Warnings: Drabble, Language, Smut (p in v, oral!f receiving).

Yuletide Masterlist

Wintering, verb. To hide, hibernate, seek comfort or rest, especially after turbulent times (in humans).

“Fuck,”

Your back was beginning to ache. You hadn’t given a moment’s thought as to where you were when you’d burst through the door. Just being at home, away from prying eyes, was enough. Now, the dado rail was bruising the base of your spine with every harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” he hissed again in your ear, immediately silencing himself by covering your mouth with his own. The warmth, the wetness, was delicious.

“Tom, please,” you whined into his mouth. Even through the dull pain in your back, your legs hooked around his waist ever tighter. At your plea he looked down at you, his hips still rolling lazily. When he saw the scrunch of your eyebrows, the sheen of sweat above them, and the way your lower lip pillowed as you bit down on it, Tom Bennett grinned.

He continued grinning as his hips began pistoning at an unholy pace into your wet heat. That wolfish smile was the last thing you saw as your eyes finally closed, too overwhelmed by pleasure to stay open, as you threw your head back against the wall. Bastard. He knew he was good.

You’d heard at the dancehall last night that the final battleship into port, the HMS Valiant, was due to arrive the following day at around 3 o’clock. You also knew, from working with Lois on the ambulances, that this was Tom’s ship. When Mrs Beatty and a few other ladies from your mother’s Women's Institute suggested meeting the last of the lads to come home at the dock, the idea spread through your Manchester suburb like wildfire.

No sooner had your mother come home with the news were you being bustled onto the number 54 bus with a hamper laden with fresh clothes, bottles of beer, spam sandwiches and the little change that each family could spare. Old men, and women of all ages, piled into the buses and made their way to the docks. A few families still had bunting from the King’s jubilee and strung it from dockyard cranes.

The furore was extraordinary. The battleship was already looming large on the horizon when you all emptied from the bus, and young and old cheered themselves hoarse until the ship made its way into port. Sailors, forgetting regulations, leant over the ships’ railings and waved to family and friends. When the battleship finally docked, it let out a long blast of its horn and the crowed roared with glee. Mothers and sweethearts were already crying when the gangway was let down, and you saw that even some fathers were wiping their eyes.

You watched with relief as faces you recognised filed off the boat. Mr Martin’s only surviving son, thirty-eight and with three children who each ran into his arms. Frank Smith, the school bully’s rat-faced sidekick. The lad that worked at the corner shop, nineteen now, having received his papers the day he turned eighteen. Each was greeted by their family members and someone with a ‘welcome home’ hamper.

All, except one. Tom Bennett, one of the tallest lads on the boat, walked down the gangway in a few elegant strides and stopped on the dock with a sigh as he hitched his kitbag over his shoulder. He lifted his eyes to the sky, the October afternoon already darkening to a mournful blue.

As with the rest of the young men, the war had not been kind to him. Shadows haunted his slim face, prematurely aged from the horrors of a war none of them should have fought. At home, he was the stuff of legend. Survived the battle of River Plate, Dunkirk and went on the run in Europe, only to be sent back to war the moment he returned. More lives than the luckiest of cats, your mother said. The worst, of course, was the loss of his father and his home. The grief hit the Bennett children hard. Tom Bennett jumped onto the first battleship in dock, and Lois left baby Vera in England to go nursing in Africa. Now, Tom Bennett stood on the dock with no-one to welcome him home after six long years.

You hurried forward.

“Tom-” As though he knew you were there before you even spoke, he looked down from the sky to your flushed face.

Though he said your name quietly, a smile flashed across his boyish face. Your stomach somersaulted. He’d always been the handsomest rogue in Longsight, and still was with his blue eyes and sandy hair. At least there was one thing the war hadn’t taken away from him.

You held out the hamper. “Welcome home, Tom,” and with a sincere smile you stood on tiptoe to kiss his sallow cheek. A faint lipstick smudge lingered there and you smiled all the more.

“I’d be flattered,” Tom teased, gesturing to the hamper. “If every other Tom, Dick and Harry didn’t have one too.” He laughed as he took the hamper from you. His large palm covered your own and you shivered.

There was history there. Only a few pages, but history nonetheless. At once, you were transported back to the parish dance of 1935. Both seventeen, you as green as the grass, he already-world weary and wandering. He danced with no-one the entire night, though many a girl looked hopeful, yet took your hand for the last dance. When you thought about those innocent years before the war, in the darkest hours of the night or after a few too many sherries, you swore you could feel Tom’s hands burning against your waist, and at your neck as he kissed you. Your first.

Tom too, was remembering the first moment you touched him. A maths lesson with Miss Greene. He’d been caught flicking pencil sharpenings into girls’ hair and was sent to sit in the corner at the back of the class. You, as much a sweetheart then as you were now, were tasked with handing out textbooks. Unfortunately for you and luckily for Tom, they were on the shelf above where he sat. A cocky grin on his face, Tom didn’t move. He loved winding the girls up, and you were something different. At sixteen, you were curvier than the rest, and watching you flush pink was his favourite hobby. And so, he didn’t move. With pride, he chortled as you blushed and reached for the textbooks above him. His smug smile faltered however when, in order to reach the books, your legs came to rest on each side of his spread ones. With one of your thighs either side of his, he swallowed. He could feel the heat coming from the apex between them, smell your perfume and feel the way the soft flesh pressed against his. When you finally retrieved the books, it was your turn to smirk at the red flush peppering his cheekbones.

“Where are you staying, Tom, now you're back?” You asked, voice low. Your mother was not far away.

“Bench in the pub, presumably. Most of the lads are heading that way for a party. Then I’ll find meself lodgings above some dodgy back-alley business.” He huffed a humourless laugh. You looked him directly in the eye.

“Stay out ours tonight.”

Tom leant close to you, wetting his lips. “What would mother say?”

“Don’t know, she’ll be down pub with the rest of them. Loves a sherry and a sailor.”

Half an hour later, you were pressed against the wall of your mother’s hallway, Tom Bennett lapping hungrily at your slick centre. Beneath your skirt and petticoat, the lewd sounds of his tongue against your wet sex filled the quiet evening.

Now, buried to the hilt within you, his swollen head bullying your core, Tom forgot the last seven months he’d spent living on the Valiant. Forgot the suffering of the last six years entirely. For between the softness of your thighs, the scent of your neck as he tucked his face against it tenderly, he’d found, if for a moment, the thing he’d been fighting for. Warmth, kindness, rest­. A place to winter.

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[roses-for-rosalyn]

what if abby's father and the reader's father were friends and the like to hangout and play tennis a lot ; one day jerry anderson tries to convince his daughter to play a game with him, his friend and his daughter (reader) who has just returned home after two years of travelling ;

both girls accept their father's invitation! then the big day arrives and abby finds herself in front of reader in her pretty tennis set (and maybe something could happen in the locker room, after a heated match 👀)

I'm baaaack!

Sorry this took me so incredibly long it's been a weird few weeks. I hope I did your idea justice, she's a long one.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: enemies to lovers, mean, competitive Abby, thigh riding, fem! reader, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, modern au where Abby's dad isn't dead obvi, no use of y/n

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You were sitting at your kitchen counter sipping on a glass of ice water and gazing out the window, watching the summer breeze rattle the trees. It had been a few weeks since you’d gotten back from Europe, but ice still felt like a luxury. Europe was so beautiful and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, but after a few years you started to yearn for air conditioning, cold water and disgusting greasy fried food. Your first bite of a McChicken back in the states was orgasmic. 

You also missed your family, your dad would call you every other day and talk about his day in incredible detail. He joined a country club and got into tennis while you were gone, he even made a few friends. You were especially happy about that because you were worried about him getting lonely while you were gone. You didn’t want him rotting in an empty house while you went out and traveled the world. Even though your dad’s days were mundane and repetitive you just liked listening to him talk. His voice was the only thing that could dull the feeling of homesickness. 

The front door opening pulls you out of your thoughts. Your dad walks in clearly having just got back from the country club, he was dressed head to toe in tennis gear including a visor. You can’t help but giggle at how stupid and preppy he looks. You didn’t exactly grow up going to country clubs, and dressing in brand name clothes. Luckily your dad had gotten a new job so he could splurge on himself. It made you happy to watch him treat himself for the first time in his life. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He looks up and down checking his clothes for stains or any wardrobe malfunctions. 

“Nothing, you just look a little funny dressed in your tennis uniform. Not exactly used to you in country club attire.” You smile as he acts mock offended. 

“I think it suits me, thank you very much.” He dramatically marches over to the fridge to fill up his water bottle. He’s really not gonna let go of this.

“You’re right, you were born to wear exclusively Vineyard Vines and sip wine on the balcony of your third beach house.” You say with a smirk. 

“Sounds pretty nice to me.” He smiles and leans on the counter across from you. 

He hesitates before saying “I’ve been meaning to invite you to play with me and Jerry, I think you’d have fun, it’ll be like the good old days on your high school tennis team. You’d probably deeply humble both of us.” Jerry was your dad’s best friend right now, one of the first people that welcomed him into the country club. 

“Dad, I haven’t played tennis in three years I don’t kn-” 

“Jerry said he’d bring his daughter too. She also used to play a lot of sports in high school. We could do father daughter teams or daughters vs fathers. It’ll be fun.” He sounds so excited, you would feel way too guilty turning him down at this point. 

“Ok, ok. Have you met his daughter? Is she like.. Nice?” You didn’t want to have to fake getting along with her for your dad’s sake, if you were being honest you would probably end up doing that anyway. Your dad wasn’t exactly good at finding you friends. 

“Yes, she’s incredibly nice, and respectful. She’s a few years older than you, about 25 I think, and she works for a construction company.” He pauses trying to recollect the little information he knows about his friend’s daughter. “She’s so strong I’m pretty sure she could pick me up bridal style.” Your dad laughs at his own joke, but now you are a little nervous. It’s starting to sink in that your dad essentially set up a playdate for you with an incredibly buff woman. You just hope you don’t end up noticeably ogling at her, maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll be incredibly mean.   

You woke up bright and early the next morning, your dad bribed you with a fancy breakfast before the match. The food was delicious, but you couldn’t stop your nervous movements, constantly tapping your fingers or feet. Your dad noticed and reassured you there was no reason to be nervous, and that there’s no pressure. To be honest your nerves weren’t completely because you were out of practice. Meeting new people always made you anxious, especially when it was arranged like this. There was an unspoken expectation for everyone to get along and enjoy themselves and you liked to keep your expectations low. 

Before you knew it you and your dad were walking to the tennis courts. Your dad noticed you were starting to get all up in your head.

“Hey, loosen up kiddo this will be fun, if it’s not you let me know and we can leave. I’ll just tell them I’m not feeling well and we can get ice cream. Jerry will understand.” He messes with your hair a bit and you feel mildly relieved. 

Once you get to the tennis court all of the relief you felt drained from your body, immediately replaced with pure anxiety. As you walk onto the smooth green court you see a middle aged brunette man, no doubt that was Jerry, and a tall strong blonde standing next to him. She towered over him, every muscle chiseled to perfection by what must have been some higher power. As you got closer you could see her biceps straining against her blue t-shirt, her thighs were barely visible, but from what you could see they were just as muscular as her arms. You were beginning to ogle when you’re snapped out of it from the sound of your dad greeting Jerry. Your dad shakes hands with Jerry and Abby and you begin to do the same. Abby’s blue eyes pierced right through you, a neutral expression adorning her face. She was incredibly intimidating considering she could clearly snap you in two. You shake Jerry’s hand “I’ve heard so much about you, hope you still remember your stuff from high school. Your dad and I have gotten pretty good.” 

You smile and reply “It’s been a while, but I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time!” You liked to stay humble, but honestly you were pretty good at tennis. You had won a lot of games and you were one of the best on the team. You didn’t talk about it much though because you were self aware enough to know literally no one cares about tennis. You were also as a result extremely competitive so you were hoping you would be able to tone it down in order to not scare your dad’s friend away. 

You move to shake Abby’s hand “I’m Abby, nice to finally meet you.” From her tone you would have assumed she thought it was indeed not very nice to meet you. But you nod and smile as her calloused hand engulfs yours. You can’t help but notice how warm her skin is to the touch and how large her hands are. 

She was incredibly attractive. 

“Alrighty you guys ready for an ass whoopin?” Jerry jests. 

“You bet.” Your dad replies. 

You and your dad make your way to the other side of the net and get into your ready positions. Abby serves the ball first and her swing was strong, but it was no match for your speed. You quickly learned the harder Abby hit the ball the louder she would grunt, so naturally you attempted to rile her up further. You would smirk arrogantly at her every time you and your dad gained a point, and take an extra long time getting ready to serve on the rare occasion she and Jerry would score a point. You and your dad rack up points quickly and the blonde was growing visibly frustrated. She was starting to hit the ball even harder, her jaw was clenched and her expression was so serious. It was adorable. 

Eventually Jerry calls for a break and sits on one of the benches with you dad, leaving you to sit with Abby. Alone. 

You sit down next to her on the wooden bench and start sipping from your water bottle. She does the same and you sit in silence for a bit. You notice the sweat on her brow and how her shirt is starting to stick to her skin. You can almost make out her abdominal muscles through the thin blue fabric. 

“I’m not usually this bad at sports, not used to losing.” Abby says, looking straight ahead. You can’t help but smile at her discontent, she seems just as competitive as you.

“I’m sure your strong muscles get you pretty far in most sports, but apparently tennis is not one of them, especially when you're up against an expert like me.” You say trying to joke around to lighten her mood.

“I wouldn’t classify a varsity tennis player as an expert, but okay.” She says with a smug look, still not facing you. She definitely did not understand your humor. 

“Clearly enough of an expert to beat you.” You shoot back. Abby grows silent and continues to sip her water. 

You sit in silence while your dad chats with Jerry, giving up on trying to make conversation with Abby. Eventually Jerry and your father stand up ready to finish the game. You and your dad beat them miserably. The game only ended because the sun started to go down, the country club quickly emptying out for the day. 

Your dad and Jerry suggest you all get washed up in the locker rooms before leaving. They walk away from the tennis court side by side talking and laughing while you and Abby walk behind them in almost total silence. Once the group reaches the locker rooms the two dads turn to you and Abby. 

“Would it be ok if me and Jerry grab a drink together? Abby can take you home in Jerry’s car.” The absolute last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a small car with this mean blonde, but you smiled and nodded. 

“See you later kiddo.” Your dad smiles and tussles your hair before walking into the locker room. 

You walk into the locker room as well, planning to just keep your distance from Abby for as long as you could until you were stuck with her in a tiny car. You can hear her heavy footsteps follow behind you and you quickly put your bag down, grab a towel and walk towards the showers to avoid facing her. You walk into one of the stalls and turn on the shower. The warm water helps to calm you down and soothes you. You lather on the soap massaging your muscles to relieve any soreness or tension, making sure you washed all the sweat away from the match. Unfortunately you have to be quick because you don’t want to make Abby any more annoyed than she was. 

As you step out and begin to dry yourself off you realized you forgot your change of clothes. 

Fuck.

You wrap the towel around you tightly and make your way to the lockers. Abby is sitting on the bench in the middle lacing up her shoes. Thank god she was looking down. You scramble over to your bag and grab your clothes out. You turn to head back to the showers to change in peace but Abby’s voice stops you.

“You took fucking forever.” She’s not looking at you, which you have observed to be a habit of hers. 

“Didn’t want to stink up your car. Is that ok with you?” Abby scoffs, but says nothing in response. 

“Seriously what the fuck did I do to you?” You blurt out, exasperated. You’re not usually this confrontational, but you felt like you deserved an answer. “I have barely had a conversation with you and for some reason you seem to have a problem with me or something.” 

Abby stands up angrily to face you and you had almost forgotten you were wearing a towel until she looked at you up and down with wide eyes. “You weren’t even gonna get dressed before asking me that question?” She sounds genuinely pissed off. Was everything you did an inconvenience? 

“Doesn’t matter, just answer it.” You look her straight in the eyes, challenging her. 

“Fine. You really wanna know?” You nod “I barely had a conversation with you and I could tell you were a brat.” As she’s talking she starts walking towards you, you didn’t even realize you were backing away until you felt the cool metal lockers against your skin. “You have an attitude problem, you know that? You don’t know when to shut the fuck up” She’s close, too close, she’s looking directly down at you daring you to respond. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You were the one who started being rude to me.” You refuse to break eye contact with her, trying to intimidate her from your height was ineffective, she wasn’t backing down. “What are you gonna do?” You ask boldly, tilting your head inviting her to answer. “Teach me a lesson? We both know you’re not gonna do anything, so just let me get dressed so I can get home and never see you again.” She doesn’t respond, the only sound was you and Abby’s synchronized breaths as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes. Her stare somehow made you feel more naked than you already were, making you overly aware of the fact that you were wearing a towel that was starting to slip down. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking for sweetheart.” She says almost breathlessly. The anger in her eyes quickly turns into a hunger when she looks down at your towel slowly slipping off your body. You’re holding on to the towel for dear life. 

“Fuck.” Abby says breathlessly before doing the absolute last thing you could have expected. She kisses you. Hard. 

You let out a surprised squeak and quickly back away, both of your chests heaving. You look in her eyes and see a desperation and hunger that’s almost scary, but for some reason you kiss her back. Abby melts into you and threads her fingers into your hair. You place your hands gently against her chest as she pushes you further against the lockers with her strong body. Her hands slowly travel down to the towel barely maintaining your dignity. She gently pries your hands from the soft material and rips it off throwing it across the room, keeping her lips on yours the entire time. You barely notice the cool air against your bare skin, she is so close to you you can feel her body heat radiate through her clothing. 

Abby uses her foot to move yours outward, spreading your legs enough for her to slot her thigh between them. You moan into her mouth the moment her strong thigh makes contact with your bare cunt. You start slowly writhing against her, trying to relive the ache that was growing in your center. Abby breaks away and looks down at you desperately grinding on her thigh. “You’re already so wet for me sweetheart. Barely had to do anything.” She smiles smugly as she watches you become a moaning mess, her thigh creating a perfect pressure against your clit. 

Abby starts kissing you down your neck, occasionally sucking on the sensitive skin, the feeling of her rough tongue causing you to whimper. She begins circling her fingers around your nipples, teasing them, before pinching them and rolling them between her fingers. You begin to move faster against her thigh and the pleasure in your belly begins to build. Your moaning starts to become louder as you begin to reach your high. Abby notices and moves her thigh further against you, putting even more pressure on your sensitive bud. “You close baby?” You nod and whine, desperate for any kind of release. You start moving faster against Abby’s thigh and your pleasure quickly hits its peak. It comes crashing against you in overwhelming waves, forcing loud moans from your lips. Abby eventually puts her leg down and backs away slightly, before kneeling in front of you. Before you can ask any questions she grabs one of your legs, hooks it around her shoulder and licks a stripe up your soaking cunt. You hiss through your teeth, sensitive from your first orgasm. She begins teasing your clit with her tongue and you have to thread your fingers into her hair for something to hold on to. 

You barely manage to whimper out, “Abs-fuck- I-I’m too sen-senitive.” 

She stops for a second and looks up at you. The sight of her kneeling between your legs is nearly enough to have you coming again. “You can take it baby, gonna make you come until you can’t give me that attitude anymore.” And with that she starts lapping at your cunt once again. She sucks your clit into her mouth, her tongue circling your sensitive bud. You let out a surprised whine, your chest heaving from the intense sensation. Abby’s hands grab hold of your hips, bring you closer to her mouth. 

You can feel another orgasm building as Abby rubs her thumbs in circles against your skin. You begin uncontrollably writhing against her tongue, but Abby quickly uses her grip on your hips to pin you firmly against the lockers forcing you to remain still. The action caused your pleasure to bubble over. “Abby-”, you whine out “-ffuck-fuck.” 

She keeps assaulting your clit through your orgasm, not slowing down. As you begin to come down, you become sensitive again and try to wriggle away from her. She pins your hips against the lockers and looks up at you with a stern look in her eyes. She wasn’t going to stop until you couldn’t even hold yourself up. 

She shoves two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. Her digits slid in easily, your arousal now dripping down your thighs. She curls her fingers forward causing you to have to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 

“Don’t you fucking dare bite your lip I want everyone to be able to hear you screaming for me sweetheart.” You clench around her thick fingers at her words and Abby takes that as a sign to keep talking. “You’re taking me so well princess. Think I can add another finger?” You nod eagerly at her in response. “Use your words baby.”

“Y-yes pl-please yes.” With your pathetic reply she adds another finger, filling you to the brim. She fucks you at a steady pace occasionally looking up at you to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure. She begins sucking hard on your clit causing you to let out a pornographic moan. She speeds up her fingers, hitting your g-spot with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers were escaping your lips every time her fingers hit that spongy spot. Your walls began clenching around Abby’s fingers and she knew you were close. Your orgasm hit you quickly and caught you by surprise, your whole body feeling the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. You’re not even sure what noises you were making or what you were saying, the pleasure was so blinding all you could do was buck your hips into Abby’s mouth. You were being held up exclusively by Abby’s grip on your hips. She stands up and quickly scoops you up bridal style to sit you down on the bench. She helps you get dressed and you could barely protest, she reduced you to jello. Abby stands up and offers her hand to help you up. You oblige and as you stand up she says “Need you to teach me your tennis skills sometime.” Weirdly she’s smiling. 

You can’t help but smirk, “Yeah? Well it’s gonna cost you and I don’t take sexual favors as payment.” 

[allthornsnopetals]

Amethyst orbs and raven Mane E.Bridgerton

Description: Flora Deluca has finally landed in Mayfair London, searching for garments and friends. She is on the hunt for a start in her new chapter, particularly adventure, something to thrive on as she dawns the ride of London, alongside Miss Eloise Bridgerton.

Love on Parchment E.Bridgerton - Master list

Warning: Mention of self harm, not proof-read

"Miss Eloise, why are you here so early?" Madame Delacroix welcomes Eloise into her store, blinking sleep from her eyes. "And without an escort." She pokes her nose outside the door, thinking her maid must be a few paces behind.

Once the door was closed and locked, she turned her attention to the intruder, cracking a brow, confused, questioning her early and unanticipated presence. "Lady da Silva is in town! And she is to be here in," Eloise glances at the clock, reading the time. "An hour, to shop for new dresses— clothes! Day wear, night wear and a gown for the first ball of the season. She's coming here!" She emphasizes, pointing to the ground of the store with both index fingers, excitement radiating from her glowing grin.

Madame Delacroix froze, mouth agape, looking near faint. "H-here! In my store! She is to shop here! At my store!" She claps her hands over her mouth, jumping in victory— this is deffentily something she could rub in the faces of the other modiste's in town—with a laugh of anticipation.

"Yes! Quickly, now time is slipping!"

With that, Madame Delacroix is moving, rushing to ready herself and the store, bubbling with excitement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The time for Lady da Silva drew rather slowly, Eloise and Madame Delacroix slowly growing impatient, eager to meet their favored author in person. But as time gnawed on, Madame Delacroix attending to other customers, one of them being Cressida Cowper: an i'll-mannered debutante, the pair began to slowly lose hope.

The two discussed the matter of identifying, Lady da Silva. She's basically anonymous, known only by her alias. She's never been seen before, never identified, unmasked or discovered, she were a ghost. But Eloise knew for a fact that her admired author, is a punctual woman, moving always with haste, never to be in one place for long, as stated in her letters, shipped all throughout Europe. She is to come and she will know.

"I think this is the place, Lady Flora, it is the address Miss Eloise shared" Said Claudia, staring up at the door, letting the noble lady in with a slight push of the entrance, the bell ringing, calling to the store owner of a new customer.

Both Eloise and Madame Delacroix threw their attention to the door, eyes eager. The boutique was rather small, a lot smaller compared to those in Italy, but it smelt of fresh daisies and pomegranates. Flora allowed her lady Maid in, linking arms with her.

Claudia Auclair, is a close friend of Flora Deluca, born in Paris France, a year before Flora. She's a hand shorter than her Mistress with light fair skin, dotted with soft freckles, long urban hair, pale pink lips and large sea-green eyes with long urban lashes, who wore a simple blue maid uniform.

But the two looked very different, indeed.

Flora had long shiny raven hair, smooth, flawless alabaster skin. Tall too with sharp large amethyst eyes, lips stained a shade of light cherry red. Her lashes so long they kissed her brows. But the two were slim, barring chests, the size of two large fists, not too large but eye drawing, for sure.

Foreign beauty's, searching for garments.

"I'll be back in a short moment, I must see to your mothers list of ingredients." Said Claudia, patting her arm before breaking free.

"No, please leave her needs for last, I need you here, amie." Flora pouts, Italian accent thick and elegant.

Claudia shook her head. "You know your mother will flip if I did not attend her list. I am to pick up the ingredients, go back home and swing back to pick you up, I promise." Said Claudia spotting a pair of Maids, running errands.

"Don't get lost and stay safe." They waved farewell, leaving Flora alone.

Eloise and Madame Delacroix share a look, gaping at the young lady, unable to tear their eyes away.

"Ow!" Cressida hisses, pulling her arm away from the needle, that had pricked her.

"My apologies, Miss Cressida, I did not mean to." Said Madame Delacroix, winching away as the young lady huffed in annoyance, checking the wound, her mother staring at Flora, intrigued by the new face.

"You'll look fabulous in that. I have never seen anyone pull off such a fabric like that, but I am sure a young fine lady like yourself would look flattering in it." Said Araminta, stalking behind Flora, hands held behind her back, observing her, as one studied a flower.

Turning her gaze, Flora forced her face to wake, wanting to smile. "Oh, well that's a lovely thing to say. But I am not sure pink is my color, it might clash with my eyes if it were the wrong shade." She starts the conversation, her accent giving way to her foreign roots.

"You are definitely not from around here, your speech sounds, rather exotic, Miss?" Araminta extends a hand, drawing a toothy grin.

"Flora Deluca, and you are ma'am?" She curties, shaking her hand.

"Deluca? As in Lord Andrew Deluca? Are you his granddaughter?" She inquires, dipping a curtsy in return, shaking her hand before releasing it as Flora nods.

"I am Lady Cowper and that is my daughter Cressida," She points at a fairly tall blonde, mouthing off the tailor. Flora grimaced, taking note to stay clear of her and her mother, who seems to adore her own voice.

"I am rather shocked to see a Deluca in person, your grandfather rarely left his abode, and when he did, he never socialized. He's not a socialist." She chuckles, as if she said something funny.

"Well, he did lose my Nona before his own passing, Lady Cowper. I do expect a widow to wish to be alone, away from nosy ladies." Said Flora, meaner than she intended, hoping to be rid of the woman.

But Lady Cowper did not get the hint or she simply is too dimwitted to smell displeasure under her nose. She chuckles once again, clearly trying to win favor of the stray Deluca.

"That's what I said to Lady featherington, but she simply thought he were rather rude and incompetent. That woman can be mean at times."

And so can you, I see your kindness leak and stain your own kin. Flora thought, cheeks straining as she grew tired of grinning.

Heels clanked against the floor in rushed and irritated foot steps, drawing closer to her and Lady Cowper. "Mama, we're finished, I do wish to go. Now would be nice." Cressida groans, fixing the fabric of her shoulder.

"Now, don't be rude, darling." Her mother nudges her, elbow plowing her side. "Cressida this is Flora Deluca, she's Lord Andrew's granddaughter." Flora curtsies while Cressida simply bows her head in rush, shoving a large box in her mothers arms.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, pleasures all mine. Can we go, now! I want to meet up with the girls." She rolls her eyes, ushering her mother, as if she were an impatient child.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry for your loss, child. I do hope we meet again." Lady Cowper pats her arm, gliding out of the exit, but not without scolding her daughter.

Flora releases a relieved sigh. "I hope, not." She deflates, missing Claudia.

"Ahem, Madame I am ready for you." Said the seamstress, gesturing Flora forward, a smile written on her liquid caramel skin.

She nods, traveling deeper, eyes trained to the floor. Eloise grins, knowing she's the one.

"I don't presume you know an Eloise Bridgerton, by chance?" Once the question was out, Eloise jumps from her seat, rushing over, holding out her letter.

"I am she. It's a pleasure, to finally make your acquaintance, Lady da Silva!" Eloise grins, pulling the taller lady in a tight embrace, squeezing the oxygen from her lungs, side of her face pressed, rather deeply to her chest.

Flora stares down at the other woman, who gasps, eyes blown in shock, and welling. "You're here! You're actually here! I couldn't believe it when I received your letter, I thought it a joke at first, but you're actually here!" Eloise pulls away, brighter then any star, Flora has ever seen.

"Ma'am." Madame Delacroix dips a deep curtsy, shock swelling inside her.

Flora blinks, flabbergasted, fixing her dress. "This is Madame Delacroix, the finest Modiste in all of Mayfair and a huge fan."

The girl who couldn't be any older than she, beams. She had very blue eyes, long lashes, short chestnut brown hair, decorated with bangs, thin pink stained lips, her skin fair and smooth. Pretty.

The woman who gazes at Flora with awe was older. Her eyes big and brown, complimented with long dark lashes, hair black, curly and long, her skin flawless in a shade best described as burnt caramel. Stunning. By her accent, she's French, like Claudia, but something about her speech seems rather forced, perhaps fake.

Flora regains her posture, sniffing, taking the space in. "No, please call me Flora or Lady Deluca but I do wish for my first name. We are friends, are we not?" She bobs a crusty to both parties, grinning as she did, drawing closer to the mirror, gazing at her appearance.

She wore something, rather simple. A white long-sleeved button-up blouse, complimented with a long slim purple dress and black leather gloves. Hair held up in a knot with silver hair-sticks, donned with amethysts. She fixes her purple stole over her shoulders, stealing a glance at her black thigh-high-heeled boots— garments best, suited for house back.

Eloise expected an elder woman, perhaps a widow, bearing a day dress and wrinkles, but she was greatly mistaken. Instead, she discovered a tall beauty, one who wore a purple dress, skidded with mud at its hem with flawless and even polished boots. Whoever she was, Eloise most certainly was not expecting her.

"Wait, Lady da Silvia, is a noble?" Eloise gassed, grinning, admiration vivid in her speech and face. "How do you do it? You are a woman, a noble woman, no less... But you did it!" She stutters, gesturing her to sit with her at a small corner table

"Well I- Madame Delacroix are you going to join us, I did bring biscuits." Flora motions the Modiste to draw a chair at the table.

The woman quickly sat, thrill filling her face and body as Flora whisks the white box open, powdering the aroma of sugar, vanilla, citrus and chocolate. "Oh, I'll make some tea, collect cups, plates and cakes." Madame Delacroix stands, gliding up the stairs.

"Would you like some help?" Said Flora, her voice at a level of conversation but loud enough to be carried for the Modiste to hear and decline her offer.

Silence transcends between Eloise and Flora, Eloise gazing at her, chin in hand, her smile abnormally large. The young lady felt rather uncomfortable, glancing at her then back at her hands, wishing she stared at something other than her. But Eloise couldn't pull her gaze away, intrigued by her pen pow and in awe by her face, best described as beautiful, perhaps like a-

"Tulip! Yes, your face reminds me of a tulip. A purple one of course." Eloise puffs a grin, awkwardly chuckling at her own finding.

"I beg your pardon. You say my face takes the shape of a cup with parallel-vained petals."

Eloise swallows thickly, cheeks and ears heating, losing her flare, feeling as if she had said something inappropriate. She scrambles to apologize but halts, holding her tongue at the sound of Flora laughing, darting her gaze to her lap, lips curving the edges of eyes, wrinkling them as she smiles.

She smiles with her eyes. Eloise notes, finding the trait, rather enduring.

Eloise grins, usually most would have never found something like that humorous or remotely comical. Most would have found her words as insensitive, rude or mean... But not her, she had laughed, amused and entertained.

"That is quite the... flattery, Miss Eloise."

"Well, that's what I see when I look at your face, a pretty tulip."

Madame Delacroix, returns to the table, tray, tea and sweets in hand, all while wearing a stunning smile, and without surprisingly dropping or spilling anything, skills. She poured the ladies cups of mixed berry tea, served the biscuits and the other sweets present. Sipping her tea, Flora hums, relaxing and enjoying the taste.

"Mixed berry tea is one of my favorites, thank you, kindly." Said Flora, sipping her tea, grinning, lowering the tea to the saucer.

"Well how did you do it?" Asked Madame Delacroix, eager for an answer, leaning forward, as if waiting for a story.

"How did I do it, indeed," Flora began, leaning back in the seat, thinking. "Perhaps, a dream is how it began, perhaps belittlement or loud brothers-."

"Which you have nine of." Eloise chimes, drawing her tea, listening intently. "Nine, well that must conjure much noise." Said Madame Delacroix.

"Oh, yes. I bed and study in my own little space at home, it is lovely. It keeps the noise at bay, you both must visit some time. I am blessed with a large enough library for it to be mistaken for a ballroom. I'll be pleased for either of you to stay for tea, lunch or even dare I say... dinner." She winks over her cup, drinking rather slowly.

"That would be lovely but it would have to be after the debutante season, it's the peak of the year for me." Madame Delacroix explains, breaking a piece of a lemon biscuit before indulging.

"Ahhh, yes your boutique. It's lovely, I am rather nervous of what outfits you have for me, Madame Delacroix. I have heard great things about you and your work, may I ask how you came to be such a... Talented Modiste."

Her eyes twinkle, as stars awake in her gaze. "Well, if you must know. I came from a rather poor family and I was quite skilled with needle work and designing, so I put it to good use. Several years later I found myself here, tailoring young ladies of the Ton, making beauties out of them." She grins proudly, something Flora finds rather amazing.

"To see a rose grow from concrete is a true strength within itself, won't you agree."

Madame Delacroix grin, widens, strengthening her features.

"Ah, your outfits, come my lady, I must draw a design with my newest fabrics." She gleams, dragging her to the dais, facing her front first to mirror.

"We are already aware of purple, white and black as your best colors but I am thinking something more daring, more flamboyant." Madame Delacroix schemes, eyes trained on Flora's complexion.

Her gaze sparks, gently removing Flora's stole, Madame Delacroix immediately gets to work. "This will do, indeed. You are to be this season's new diamond, I am sure of it." Her grin shines as she waddles back with deep emerald green fabric, matching it to her complexion.

"Oh, I am not sure I'll make such a shade work, ma'am I don-"

"Don't speak such nonsense, you are beautiful, I need not to do much but clothe you."

With that she is sewing, threading and weaving. In just a few short moments, a dress meant to be so breath taking, Flora was sure to faint, had been made. "Oh, my... Madame Delacroix I must thank your kindness with more than just coins." Flora gushes, taking the gown in her arms.

Madame Delacroix chuckles, comparing the garment in the mirror.

"You thank me by trying it on for me."

With some encouragement and time, Flora is completely clothed, gloves still worn. "Would you wish for me to craft you a pair of gloves?" Madame Delacroix offers. Flora nods, watching her get to work.

Eloise stares in wonder, her eyes trained on Flora, as if she were a book of magic, adventure and thrill. Beautiful.

She couldn't control her face, falling into a rather unflattering goofy grin, hunching over, looking almost drunk. But she were only smitten with her beauty, here complexion mixing well with her dress, Eloise is simply enchanted.

"Your grin reminds me of a drunken sailor." Flora laughs, bearing a new pair of gloves.

Eloise clears her throat, returning her gaze to her book, awkwardly flushing like a tomato, while Flora slides behind the dividers once more, undressing. She hands the gown back to Madame Delacroix, allowing her to box it. Just as she were about to round the corner, Claudia enters, her face a flush and out of breath.

"Miss Flora, my apologies but your mother is in labor, you are to be home at once, a carriage awaits you." She bobs a curtsy, breathing her words, clearly exhausted and worried. "Thank you Claudia." Turning to Eloise and Madame Delacroix. "Thank you both, I wish to meet again and soon I prefer. Again, your work will be thanked with more than just coins, I promise you. It's truly a pleasure to meet you both." She curtsies, gliding out of the exit with haste, forgetting her stole.

But just as Eloise took notice, she was gone, her carriage riding away, leaving her first interaction with Miss Flora Deluca fresh and starving. At least she remembered her gown and gloves.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Scouting the market alone, Flora strolls to a florist stall, browsing the large range of colorful petals and stems, taking notice of the familiar company behind her, clanking her cane in pause of reaching her location.

"Do you tend to shadow me, Lady Danbury." Said Flora, trading a penny for a bouquet of pink Azaleas.

"I tend to welcome you to Mayfair." Lady Danbury slides beside Flora, trading coin for a few flowers of her own, linking arms with her, taking flight through the market.

"It seems you are rather late. Lady Cowper has beaten you to it, and I must say, her and her beast of an offspring are less than charming. Their welcome was rather stale."

Lady Danbury chuckles. "Yes, well they're ill-mannered and nosy. Lady Cowper is hoping to wed Cerssida to your second eldest brother, Benjamin." She pauses, stalling at a booth of quills, side eyeing the pair who seem to be watching them both, like hawks.

Flora sniffs, admiring a quill of black feather and white pen. "I'd rather lose an eye than dare assign an ill-mannered girl as sister-in-law. Yes, I'll take this one, thank you."

Placing the new item in her basket, the pair are off, just in time as Lady Cowper and her daughter glide their way in their direction, ditching them. "I don't think your mother is thinking straight, especially after last evening's unfortunate events. I truly am sorry for your loss, it would have been a blessing to have another girl around." Said Lady Danbury sympathetically, swooping past the Featheringtons and their bickering, squawking like a flock of birds.

Flora swallows harshly, grimacing at the sound of the flock of redheads, fighting over a rather ugly hat. "Well, my mother did have high hopes, wanting a daughter more like herself would have brightened up her days. But that's her last pregnancy, I am sure she can find peace again, after all she's been blessed with ten children in total."

Lady Danbury hums in agreement. "And how is she, your mother." She asks, ducking into a store with less ears.

Reading the situation, Flora lowers her voice to a whisper.

"As you said, she's not thinking straight. She wept in my fathers arms for the entire night, afraid she'll be left alone. It's not looking good and I'm worried about her, about this season. My first, second and third eldest brothers. Alexander, Benjamin and Christopher are planning to be wed..."

"But you do not wish to take part this season?"

Flora shook her head, pretending to browse for China cups. "Your father knows not of your books." She inquires, taking a cup in hand, inspecting it.

"No, he would lose his mind if he knew, and send me back to the Academy. I'll be a prisoner." She sighs, lowering her gaze. "If I marry, my own husband will forbid me from what I love and lock me away, serving only as his child bearer. That will be no life for me, but for him, enjoying the fruits of my labor."

"There must be more to this life, Lady Danbury, more to this stale bread and rotten cheese." Her eyes linger to her gloved hands, wishing for something more.

Lady Danbury was a hard woman, but she had a soft heart, one that stretched and even ached for the young Lady, oh how she wished she were made of steel. "Look at me, child." She says, her tone leveled and serious, drawing Flora's attention with the head of her cane, motioning her chin to face her.

"I will see to a worthy husband for you. One that will not stop you from pursuing your passions, one that will not trap you as his heir bearer, but his wife, his equal. He will not steal your fruit but prune them, help them grow. I promise you. Now stop pouting, it's truly aching." She releases her chin, shaking her head, a grin prompting her withered features.

"Are you saying that you will take me under your wing?" Flora chases after Lady Danbury, beaming with joy, linking arms with her again.

She chuckles. "Yes, child but only at the ball."

Flora tilts her head. "Not at the Palace, before her Majesty?" She questions, lining a grape from her basket, popping it past her lips before feeding one to Lady Danbury.

"Exactly!" She crunches, dragging the young Lady with her, prompting for another purple fruit.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Barney, play nice." Flora instructs the floppy eared corgi as he follows Lady Danbury and her, flopping around on his little legs, catching up to Newton.

Lady Danbury stuck up her nose, walking the length of the garden. "I did not think of you as a pet sort of person." She grimaced, taking comfort in a chair, ringing for tea and sweets.

Flora shrugged, her poster straight and clean as an army soldier. "As did I but my father noticed I did not have many or any friends, so he gifted me Barney and Fern."

"You have more pets." Lady Danbury jeers, heaving a sigh, one of disapproval.

"A cat, a big lazy white cat. She does nothing but she is a good cuddle buddy, who counts as a personal alarm." She chuckles at the older woman's expression.

A while later a servant with two more hot on his tail, trails towards them, bearing tea, sweets, cutlery and trays. They set things up, rather hastily, leaving faster as they had come. A younger servant, a boy lingered behind, pouring tea and serving sweets.

Flora smelt the warm liquid with a noticeable frown. "English tea has only gotten worse. Is there any way I could call for mixed berry or black tea." Flora turns the cup, addressing the server.

"I will call for black tea, go Harry, stop gawping at Miss Flora and tend to her order." She flaps a dismissive hand, rolling her eyes as the young lad steals himself a glance, his grin donning a displeased huff from Lady Danbury.

"You could have any man, any Lord, viscount, prince and servant-"

A huff and a taught glare shuts the Lady down for only moment, her grin displaying amusement.

"I take that you miss her." Lady Danbury says, sipping her tea, studying her distant niece.

Flora tightens her jaw, playing a confused manner. "Miss whom?"

The Mistress chuckles, sighing a great irritation with a roll of her eyes. "Don't play me a fool, child. You miss Brooke, her hair, her face... Her laugh. You loved her." Flora scoffs, shaking her head, gathering Barney in her lap.

"Who is to state the feeling of love? Who is to say love is a tingling sensation, a tickle of the heart... Or a stab of irony." Flora's tone drops, her tongue donning a nasty pool of acidic waves.

"A cruel joke spoken, a play written by rotten Gods. A cry, mistaken as an oath. Love is but a joke. I miss her, not." She spat, stuffing her mouth with a slice of cake.

"Irony? Hmm... I see your most recent publish, quite clearly now. She broke your heart, I assume." With a slight glare and tight jaw, her assumption stood answered, without a word.

"You invited me for research." Flora turns the subject, stroking her pet.

When the time to leave Lady Danbury's home had dawned, Flora was in a rather sour mood, reading over her list of possible husbands, missing the rushing man. She made a sound of surprise and shock, bumping into someone who appeared to be two hands shorter than herself, with hair described as lovely brown with eyes that match his locks, his skin fair.

"Excuse me!" She hissed, pushing the gentlemen back. "Can you not see where you are going!" She continues, watching his gaze floor up, eyes blown open with his mouth agape.

"C-clearly n-not, my apologies." He bows his head, still gazing at Flora.

"Stop staring, it's rather rude."

He clears his throat, patting his chest. "Apologies, miss..." He trails off, offering an opening for introductions. "Flora and you are?" She offers a rushed bob of her head, keeping Barney close on his lead.

"Anthony." He grins a bit too eagerly. "Charmed, well good day to you, sir. I best be on my way." She says briskly, finding her feet, gliding away, missing her stole.

Anthony falls in step with her, walking beside her, finding it challenging to match her pace. Her legs tend to out-walk many, but not fast enough in this case.

"You know Lady Danbury? It's strange, she would have introduced you to me at some point, Miss Flora. By your accent I say that it must have happened or perhaps I have forgotten our first encounter." He continues, breathing harshly, showing struggle."

Flora shook her head, wanting little-man to go away. "Perhaps, nothing. I have never met you in my life, and in this moment I wish I never had. Please, sir save me your company and part yourself from me."

Anthony chuckled, blinking rapidly, flabbergasted that a woman would want him gone. "Excuse me. Is this how you address a viscount?" He paused with a satisfied grin gracing his lips as Flora abandoned her plan of escape. Cracking her jaw, she turns her heels, scowl visible.

"Is this how you address a lady?" She spat, gliding closer to him, staring his smug look down, from the bridge of her nose.

"Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, my lady. First of his name and surely the most handsome." He tips his hat with a hop in his step.

Flora rolls her eyes, internally kicking herself for stopping.

"Bridgerton. Great, so your Eloise's brother, eldest by your flamboyant introduction. Oh, how I wish you were Benedict or even Colin. By your sister's description, they're the more handsome brothers and you... The more, rather, annoying one." She laughed at his reaction.

He blinked again, his hand to his chest, mouth hung open.

She patted him on the arm, comforting him sarcastically. "It's quite okay, she also said you were a troll." Flora says, continuing her stroll, satisfied.

"How did you encounter my adoring sister?"

"She were a pen pow, an interesting one. I sent her a letter while stationed in Florence Italy for the summer, from there our friendship blossomed. She is a breath of fresh air."

The two walked, sharing stories and small laughs, mainly through the act of bullying and teasing. The sky slowly brew an orange hue with hints of pretty yellow by the time, the pair drew near the Bridgerton house, both still high on ethics and politics.

"And you learnt this all by reading and traveling, Miss Flora?" Anthony allowed his new found friend, inside.

"There is much to learn when on the road and sea, much, indeed."

Storm-like footsteps drew close along with laughter and banter. A girl and a boy much younger than herself blister around their brother, begging for sweets, welcoming him home. The boy turns his head, pausing, racking his gaze, stopping at Flora's face.

"Hi... I am Gregory, and you are Madame?" He bows, offering his arm.

Flattered, Flora takes his arm. "I am Flora Deluca. You are quite the gentleman, far better than your brother." She points at him and the girl, who still begs for sweets.

The young lad opens his mouth to speak but flushes, flapping it open and closed. A large gasp draws her attention up the main stairway. "Flora! I did not know you were going to be here. I would have readied myself." Eloise rushes down the steps, her hair bouncing against her shoulders.

She bleeds into her arms, face in her chest. "It is a pleasure to see you so soon, please stay for dinner. I am hating this place." She crones, dragging her away from her fumbling brother, to the drawing room.

"Wow, you are really pretty! Are you and my brother friends! Is he your new fancy!" The girl with chestnut ringlets, bobs, slipping between Flora and Eloise.

"No, you busybody! Now go away, before I choke you to death." Eloise hisses. "Not in front of our guest, who I am sure will not be your friend if you were to murder your own sister."

"Hyacinth, I swear... If you don't-"

"Oh, who might you be?"

Flora stood, recognizing the woman of the house. "Mother this is Flora Deluca, Andrew's granddaughter and Eloise's friend." Said Anthony, sitting across from the pair.

"Oh, my condolences, to you and your family. It is not easy to lose someone you hold so dearly. Lady Violet Bridgerton, but you may call me Violet." She shakes her hand, welcoming her new guest.

"Well, thank you Violet. I am rather flattered by your children, Anthony here was kind enough to invite me. Oh, and I can't forget Eloise, she is an amazing friend, someone who I suspect will be a great company and source of partnership." She grinned, bobbing a curtsy.

Barney flopped around, enjoying belly rubs from Hyacinth and Gregory. His tiny tail wagged at the attention as the kids played, allowing him to lick their faces.

Violet found herself smiling. "Ah, yes- are you wed?" Anthony cocked his head, waiting while Eloise jumped to her feet. "Well, mama, perhaps we best save those questions for the season, I am sure Flora is well aware of all her possible prospects." Said Eloise, grabbing hold of her arm. "We are to head to my room. Call us when dinner is served."

Eloise shoves Flora into her room with Barney trailing behind. She slams the door shut and turns the lock. "Sorry about them, they can be... Well, nosy." Eloise clasps her hands in front of her, strutting behind Flora who admires her collection of books.

"No need, I get it. Whenever I have a boy over, my brothers suddenly have more than enough time on their hands. Once I had a tutor over for tea, a boy and they scared him off. I never received an English lesson from him, since. Now my accent is hard to understand and quite the opener for teasing. I hate the way I sound."

Tilting her head, Eloise studied her, wondering why she would hate such an luring accent. Eloise was not a fool to her beauty but her accent sealed the deal, drawing her attention by simply uttering a word. "You sound like poetry, come to life. While I sound, of rubbish and needles." She gestures, snatching herself a book.

"No, you don't." Said Flora, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "You sound like the sea, calming and calling. There is no need for me to run back to it so quickly when I have it right here with me."

Eloise sucks in air, her skin tingling under her touch, suddenly sweating a great deal. "Is that my stole." Flora whisks her hand away, strutting over to her bed, the fabric laced over her pillows.

"Uh... Yes, you had forgotten it at the Modiste. I intended to return it to you tomorrow at the ball but you may have it back, now."

"Thank you, I thought I would never see it again." She floors it over her shoulders, inspecting the parchment scattered over Eloise's bed.

"I noticed dog hair on it and wondered why, but he answers that ponder." Eloise points at Barney, scratching him behind the ears, speaking to him as if he were a baby.

"There was also cat hair, but I see no cat." She investigates, sitting with Flora with Barney in her lap.

"Yes, but Fern is a lazy blob, she will only move when wanting cuddles or a sunbath." Flora replies, scotching closer to Eloise, stroking Barney between his ear.

"Why, so many copies of..." She trails, reading the column. "Lady Whistledown? She seems quite the gossip. Is this the type of material, you enjoy reading?" She inspects the parchment, arching a brow as she reads.

"No- Well, yes but not for what you think. That's a lie too, but she like yourself is anonymous. And rather talented."

"She reports on gossip." Flora says flatly, tossing the paper in the heap of other 'useless' columns.

"That's what makes her, so talented. She can collect the hottest scandals of the Ton and still no one knows who she is." Said Eloise, speaking in praise, gesturing with her hands.

"Not if someone takes a visit to the printer she publishes her column from."

Eloise turns her gaze to the foreign beauty, her eyes large and awake.

"What?" Said Eloise, rubbing her nose.

"The printer. The paper and ink is found on the poorest side of London, far from the Ton. Just beside the docks, it's where most papers are purchased."

"Come again." Said Eloise, dusting Barney from her lap, learning forward, inches from Flora's face, investigating her statement.

Wetting her lips, Flora pulls back, finding comfort in her own personal space. "Most papers and even books are sold at the docks, capturing new customers and buyers. It's a great form of business, get them when they're hot and new, unable to know any better." She explains as Eloise rubs her hands together, thinking with a marvelous grin, conducting a plan behind her sapphire eyes.

"I have a proposal for you, Lady da Silva. How about you write your new book on the unmasking of Lady Whistledon. Lady da Silva vs Lady Whistledown." She announced, arching her hands in the air, visualizing a great header.

Flora thought for a moment, pondering over her proposal. She's put out of romance, completely bleached and drained of it. She had no reason to say no, after all she has not published a solid book in two whole years, a new scenery might do her some good.

"Fine, but I'll only agree if you keep this between us, tell no one. I don't want anyone unmasking my own identity in the process, understood?" She held out her hand.

"Deal, no will ever know." Said Eloise, shaking her hand in agreement, giddy with excitement.

Eloise clasps her hands together, informing Flora of what she knows and what she thought she knew. With that she begins to write down the information, ringing together a plot, a character, an entire story line. She wrote and listened, eating dinner in Eloise's room, long after the sun had set.

"Perhaps, we are to uncover more at Lady Danbury's ball tomorrow. We will discuss, snoop around and squeeze in a few dances." Said Flora, tucking her diary into her purse.

"Dance?" Eloise questions, licking her fingers.

"Yes, I am to attend a ball for a reason. To find a good enough Suitor is a dawning task, indeed." She replies, shaking out a napkin, drawing Eloise's face with her clothed finger tips, wiping away food from her lips and face.

"You are to find a husband, Ellie. Are you not?"

Eloise swallows thickly, allowing Flora to clean her face. Her stomach clenching at the nickname, her eyes trained on Flora's stained lips, desiring a different kind of Suitor. She could feel her breath fan her lips, her breath smelling of lemonade.

"Are you not?" Flora repeats, drawing back, sliding her plate to the floor, letting Barney finish what she could not.

Eloise shook her head, forcing herself to reality. "No! A woman should not have to enter society via marriage and baby bearing." She scowls, missing their closeness.

"I agree but I cannot live my life, a spinster. It would do no good to my family, my dynasty or my reputation." She explains, watching Barney flop his ears, begging Eloise for her plate.

Rolling her eyes, she clatters her plate on top of Flora's slumping back on the pile of columns. "I don't think my heart aligns with society's norms, Flora." She exhales a sigh, folding her hands on her stomach.

"Mmm, in France, a man may wed another man but not by paper or in public. But by vow, and oath, shared between them both. They are to love but never bear a document, for that is not what love needs to blossom..." She begins, laying beside Eloise, staring up at the ceiling.

"It just needs two beings willing to love one another... Without running away or breaking the heart of the other. I believe it can be done even if someone harbors affection for, something slightly different." She finished, feeling Eloise staring at her.

"You believe I fancy women."

Flora glances around, feeling as if she had misread the situation. "Is that not what you implied." She looks at Eloise now, fumbling with her hands.

"Y-yes... I don't know. I think so. It's just, I don't desire a man as I do a woman. It's hard to write on paper, you know. I wasn't sure you'll write back if I simply state 'I think I fancy women'." Eloise jokes, breathing harder.

Flora shook her head. "You know, every book and poem I wrote were through the hearts and eyes of lovers, who could not love the way they wished. Plumps and Berries: is an example. I interviewed an elderly woman, who-"

"Fell in love with her lady Maid, yes I remember. But it were a man, a man who you replaced as the elderly woman. She fell in love with the lady Maid who committed suicide, who had killed herself because she could not fathom what she had done. She was consumed with guilt, regarding her affection after she had bedded the brother of the lady she served." Eloise finished, her eyes widening in discovery.

"It was the first romance novel that I wept over. I truly thought it a fictional masterpiece. It tore my heart from my chest. I did not know it were about two women, both who died without the other in their arms." She drifted off, staring back at the ceiling.

"How could you. I disguised their story, so no one would ever know. Their love was hidden but had a right to be shared, regardless of the tragic ending. What I'm trying to say, Ellie. Love whomever you wish, even if it is to be hidden." Flora forced her gaze back to her with her fingers.

"Make it through this season and see where you go from there. You might just surprise yourself."

With that she was gone, collecting her stole and corgi, thanking every member of the house for their hospitality, folding for the night and leaving for home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The night of the ball came quickly, bustling the garden house of Lady Danbury, spilling with Suitors and Debutantes. It were a moonlit night with flowers, beautiful decor and music. It was an amazing start to the season, indeed.

Flora donned her deep emerald green gown of jewels, complimented with a pair of long black fabricked gloves. Her hair pinned back in a French twist, adorned with green gems, elegant wear for an elegant soiree. She wore only a slim emerald necklace and pearl sized earrings to match. She did miss her boots, feeling rather strange in a pair of jeweled heels.

"Edwina seems to be enjoying herself, look at her grow so quickly, amie." Said Flora, chatting with Kate.

"Mmm, she will make an amazing wife. She will find herself a love-match, and so will you. I see your dance card is full. The men here are rather smitten with you, Miss Flora." Her dear friend teased, grinning a great deal for someone in a rather sour mood.

She glances down at her, pushing a flask into her hand. Kate gawps at it, ushering them both into a hidden backroom, far from prying eyes.

"Where did you find this?"

"It's tea, and not rubbish English tea." Flora says, unmasking a flask from her under-skirt, intended for herself.

Kate takes a swig and clears her throat, pulling a face of sour taste, like she had sucked a bitter lemon.

"Tea with a slight kick. Sure to ward off any fatigue. And hide the stench of alcohol." Flora chuckles before chugging a great deal for herself, blistering in the taste.

"A kick, indeed." Kate coughs, throwing back another shot, rolling down the wall, huffing as Flora joins her. "Thank you, I needed this. Now go and enjoy the ball, you look far too nice to be hidden back here with me."

They chuckle, dwindling in their long friendship. "Don't be silly Kathani. I missed you and our races. I still recall ten to four, you really do suck." She teases, earning her a jab in the side.

"I am sorry for not visiting Bombay for some time. I was supposed to visit, before my grandfather passed. He is my only supporter and man who seems to enjoy funding my travels and writing. I miss him, greatly." Flora drifts, resting her head on Kate's shoulder.

"No, I'm just glad to see you again, pyar." Kate strokes her clothed hand, kissing Flora's hair, inhaling her scent, her eyes closed.

"Love? Do you love me, Kate?" Said Flora, her tone: sweet and luring.

Kate chuckles, rolling her eyes. "Only as much as I'll allow my heart to. I am not the only one, I am aware of your many options. I will not be an option." She states, squeezing Flora's arm, comforting herself in her hair.

Flora grins, pushing her lips to her flask. "I will never treat you as such, amore. You are my friend, who I will be glad to get drunk with."

Kate snorts as Flora lays in her lap, drinking from her flask. "I'll say, getting drunk with you is a privilege." They raise their flasks, in cheers, bathing in the silence away from the ball.

She studies Kate, sensing a strong cause for her bitter mood. "Something's bothering you, I can smell it. What happened, amire." Says Flora, drawing Kate's attention to her.

She huffs exasperatedly, shaking her head, annoyance vivid in the way she laps her tongue over the inner-walls of her cheek. "Men can really be... Inconsiderate, foul and dimwitted. They fantasize their definition of a perfect woman, expecting that 'perfect' woman to fall into their laps. We are human, we are not perfect and we certainly are not some man-made thing to entertain men, and their unrealistic standards." Kate snarls, drinking back the concoction.

"Ah, so you met the viscount"

"Yes! He is such a pig!" Kate scowls with a trail of her drink dripping down her chin.

"He is aware of what he wants, and seems to believe that his dream woman is obtainable. He is a fool. But entertaining and very easy to bully."

Kate scoffs, rolling her eyes and downing the remains of her drink. One look from her and Flora is trading her flask for Kate's, tucking the empty metal in her under-skirt.

She shimmies a copy of Lady Whisltedown's column from her bodice, unfolding it. "Oh, don't tell me you're a frequent reader of Lady Whisltedown." Says Kate, snatching the parchment from her, reading the inked page.

"No, but I am intrigued by her findings." She replies, trying to take the paper back. "Intrigued? Oh, so you're on the cusp of becoming a frequent reader. Are you starved of gossip?" Kate waves it just above Flora's reach, laughing at her squirm for it.

"Flora! There you are- whose this?" Said Eloise, now standing in front of them, adorned with a strained toothy smile, flicking her gaze between them both, curious and slightly twinged.

"Ellie, darling! You look..." Flora eyes Eloise, drawing her gaze from her feet to her face. "B-b-bewitching." She stammers, grinning slightly with a small twinkle in her eyes.

She wore a blue gown, bejeweled with gems. Her hair pulled back in an elegant up-do, complimented with a diamond and sapphire crown, matching her small flower designed necklace, and white gloves. She wore heels, no doubt by the couple inches she has gained, from the last Flora had seen her.

Eloise ducks her head, fiddling with her fingers, her dance card swinging with every fiddle. She bashfully grins, her cheeks tinting with a bite of the inside of her cheeks. Flora missed it but Kate hadn't. Kate can always tell when someone fancied another. She had a gift of disiphering signs and body language: tinted cheeks, biting or nibbling of lips and cheeks. She knew them the signs, as she knew her own hand.

Eloise was falling, but Flora couldn't see it. Couldn't see how Eloise softened when her attention was on her or how she hardened when she spotted Kate. She knew it all, but Flora did not. Did not know of what hid behind Eloise's tight smile and her gritted teeth that seemed to subsided as Flora sat up, acknowledging Elosie, as if she were a star in a sky filled with only darkness and one ball of burning gas. In due time, she will, but right now, Flora is blind.

There was something growing there, and Kate wasn't about to spoil its growth.

"I'm Kate Sharma, Flora's friend. Come join, if you wish. I was about to check on my sister." Said Kate, standing and handing the parchment back to Flora but keeping the full flask.

"Eloise Bridgerton. I'm not disturbing anything, am I? If, so you can stay and I'll leave." Says Eloise, fumbling.

"No! Nothing's a disturbance. Stay, I'll go." She turns her attention to Flora. "9.00am sharp, no later. Three races, no more and no less." She explains, pointing her finger, determined in her speech and expression.

"Why not four? Make it even and a greater win for me." Flora teased, watching Kate poke her tongue at her before strutting off in search of her sister.

Once gone, Eloise takes Kate's spot, pulling a small diary from her dress pocket with a smaller pencil in hand. "I have written Lady Whisltedown's most recent publishes with dates, hoping to see a pattern." Eloise explains, her nose dipping every time she spoke with interest, the cogs of her mind, turning with ever thought.

Flora listens, taking notes for her own diary, scribbling down every thought and theory pooling from Eloise's lips, wanting to collect every detail without a miss.

"How long have you and Kate been friends for?" Eloise suddenly blurts, gaze trained on her notes.

"Since I learned to read and she to speak. We were tiny and had two mothers who were rather close to each other. My mother is her mothers best friend and her mother is my mothers best friend. She is older than myself... Kate is six to twenty, and I am one to eighteen. So... I guess when I was one to ten and she was one to seventeen." Flora explained, standing and dragging Eloise with her.

"Wait, she was just learning how to speak at one to seventeen! And you were just understanding how to read at one to ten!"

"Yes, English was not the easiest language for her at the time, but she's a natural now. I found speaking it a lot easier but reading it... Well, it had its ups and downs." Says Flora, linking arms with her, noting the tenseness in Eloise's stance, deciding not to look into it too much.

"You think that, whoever Lady Whistledown is. She tends to have some sort of pattern with her K's?" Flora inspects, strolling through the gardens, studying the stars.

Eloise paused for a moment, savoring the peace of the night and its coolness that it provides in such a warm season. She felt as if suffocating in the heat of the season of marriage and eager Suitors, making her vomit and wish she were a spinster, able to live her life as she wished, and perhaps be someone of adventure... Like Flora or Colin with the right to such a free life..

To experience more than stale bread and rotten cheese, to live and find love on her own terms— to be whomever she wished without the fear of losing her family. Without losing the first form of love she has ever experienced. Her silence in thought draws Flora's eyes, pulling them from the beauty of the sky.

Eloise had closed her eye, drawing in thought, inhaling the aroma of the sweet and delicate flowers, enjoying the scents of nature, making her wishshe were in the country, away from the buzz of the city and its nosy occupants. Flora drew Eloise closer, cuddling her by waist and providing Elosie with comfort in her shoulder.

"Love will find you, Ellie. And when it does, you will know." Said Flora, sensing something that only Benedict or her mother would have felt. "You may not want it now, but when you find it or it finds you, you never want it to leave. You'll trap it in a jar with a strong lid and treat it as if it were your own prisoner that you'll care for and never have another steal from you." Flora continued, thumbing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Eloise is staring at her now, her eyes downing her, as if she were a glass of water, and she, a man of unclenchable thirst. She thought, Flora a mind reader or some sort of witch by the ease in knowing of what floated in her mind. She felt as if Flora were Stephn, from her most recent and rather old book, 'The darling of Florance'. A man who could read his love, as it were his own palm or mind. Was he too a hidden woman, yearning for a life to love publicly.

Eloise pondered the thought, wishing she understood herself a little more and able to defog the twist in her stomach when it came to the daughters of the Ton.

"Is that how you feel?" She asks, swatting closer, wanting her body unbearably closer.

Flora smiles slightly with a pung in her chest. If it were any louder, she was sure Elosie could hear. "Unfortunately, yes. I believe that every man and woman has a star waiting for them. Someone that is only meant for them, even if it means waiting for the next life. My star is waiting for me and longing for my company, I just hope they come sooner than later."

They?

Eloise was aware of the masked love in her books. But she never thought that it impacted her, the author. She assumed that she accepted all love, regardless if it were shared between two men or women. Elosie always thought her mind to be open to all who were different.

"Just men?" Eloise inspected.

Flora chuckles, twisting her lips into an amused grin. "No, not just men. Women, too." She replied, starting to guide them both back to the hall.

Elosie felt something in her stomach give way, like a bridge crumbling on the impact of a tsunami. Something that filled the hollow web that she had created on her own, thinking she would never find someone who could possibly be like her. Someone who is completely different from society and its construction of pillars and custems, a true cactus in a field of flowers.

"And how do you deal with it? Stop yourself, that is." Elosie wanted to know. Wanted to know if she could stop whatever song in her chest rang when her eyes drifted to the lips of her tutor or the eyes of the librarian. She wanted it all to stop or at least kill her.

"Make it stop? If you are thinking of it as something that you could simply dampen with a shot of whisky or a trip to the doctor-." Flora scoffs, shaking her head with slight disappointment. "Than I am sorry to inform you, but you simply can not stop it. Your heart will fall, break, and even mend itself, with or without your consent. It will make choices for you, caring not for the host. It will hurt you and bring you joy, but it will always be your greatest test and challenge. You just have to learn that it's just how life works." She breathes, planting a comforting peck to Eloise's hair.

"Just remember what I said. Love will find you, Ellie, and you will never want to lose it." Flora finished, parting and searching for her brothers, who chat with many ladies of the Ton and their unbearable mamas.

"Eloise, there you are! I was looking everywhere for you." Said a plump red-head, donning a rather bright yellow dress.

She links arms with Eloise, crafting a sour-like twist in Flora's stomach, her eyes glaring at where she held her. She wanted to break the young lady's arm, or perhaps her entire body. But why should she?

There is no purpose to. She simply did not like how this girl stole her spot.

Flora sniffs. "Since you now have company, I best find mine. My papa would not enjoy the idea of the end of my night to be accompanied by a friend and not a Suitor. Good evening, Miss Eloise." Flora departs with haste, visibly jovial with hidden anger underneath her skin.

Elosie reaches out for her, missing by an inch as she and Penalope share a connection of confusion. "Who was that, and why so desperate to part?" Asked Penelope, sipping punch.

"That's my new friend that I've been talking about. She seemed rather happy so she must want to finish her night and go home. Or anxious to meet you." Eloise reassured, feeling Pen's worry.

"Flora?"

Eloise hums in clarification. "Oh, my mama has been talking about her and her brothers for a while. She wants Prudence to sweep the eldest off his feet. " Penalope gags, gliding them both to nearby hallway.

"Brothers?" Funny, Flora never mentioned the attendance of her brothers at tonight's festivities.

Penelope nods, pointing at the tallest and eldest. He was rather handsome with an angular face, straight nose and groomed dark hair, very much like his sisters. But his eyes were not like hers. No, they were round and the most stunning sea green. "That's Alexander Deluca, the next Viscount of the Deluca dynasty. He is one of the more eligible Suitors of the season. He's the man Prudence and many other ladies of the Ton have sworn to." She drew her finger to a slightly shorter man.

He was not as handsome as Alexander but he was an eye-catcher. He had long, almost messy dark hair with a more softer face. His eyes were also rather large with the lashes of a woman: long and stunning. The colors were also green, but like emeralds, fine and dark. Pretty.

"That is Benjamin Deluca, the second eldest. He is currently on the list of Cressida. With what I hear, he is quite the poet and hunter." Said Penelope, finally settling on a rather taller man, taller than the last.

He was a lot slimmer but still rather meaty in some areas. His face was sharp, but his eyes were rather dim. They were heavy and small but attention drawing, for they held a dark purple shade, that's almost close to Flora's. But his short hair was blonde and combed back. He is most definitely the odd sibling, perhaps. Eloise isn't aware of the physical appearance of the rest of her brothers.

"And lastly Christopher, who is the third eldest. He isn't a talker and keeps to himself. But it seems he is Flora's favored brother."

The two watch as the siblings converse, clearly jeering about something they don't like. Perhaps, finding a way out of tonight's festivities.

"Pardon me, Lady Danbury but my sister seems rather unwell. She claims discomfort in her head." Said Christopher, allowing his sister to lean her head on his shoulder, visibly showing an act of ill-health.

"Oh, well that is a shame. You best take her home, Mr Deluca." Said Lady Danbury.

"Thank you Lady Danbury." Flora embraces the older woman, making sure to make a show.

"Now, this better not be a fib to relieve yourself of my ball." She whispers in her ear, making her threat clear. "Of course Lady Danbury. I danced and wooed eligible Suitors. I am just not feeling very well."

The older woman hums suspiciously but lets the two go, unable to convince Flora to stay.

Once in the comforts of her carriage, Flora removes her gloves, revealing scars, that litter her forearm. She itches them, exhaling sharply, feeling her skin crawl, and her body shake. She wanted out or she'll simply burst into flames.

She didn't understand her sudden bitterness towards the plump girl, but she felt it and it made her feel uneasy. She felt as if, she would shatter, and subside to the sourness in her gut or worse. She needed a blade, a relief... Something to dampen this feeling in her chest and gut.

"Get out Christopher. I wish to go home alone." She mutters, barely being audible. "But I don't wan-"

"Go!" She growled, her eyes burning with tears.

He swallows thickly, opening the door to the carriage. "So be it. Don't do anything stupid." He glares at her, giving strict instructions to the driver before taking his leave.

The carriage jerks forward, trotting down the pavement. Flora slides her skirts above her knees, revealing a short tipped blade. Taking the cold metal into her palm, she allows the fabrics to fall, covering her legs and band that once held her blade. She lays back, closing her eyes, in content, trying to keep the tears from falling.

But she opens them again, facing the blade to her wrist, over an old scar and pressing it along her skin, slicing the elegant meat, rather slowly. She hisses as the carriage swerves, guiding the blade to an angle. Her lips wobble a sigh of relief once the first cut is done, opening a gate of blood, pooling over her dress.

Leaning back, she smiles and slices the other wrist open, relishing in the relief.

Just one more cut. Flora promises herself, going in again and again, and again. Until three cuts turn into four and warps into five. She sobs, heaving a heavy breath in her chest, staring up at the ceiling.

Just once more, cut.

[outsideratheart]

Finalissima (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: In honour of the lionesses wining the Finalissma here is a little fic. I’m not sure if it can be classed a sequal but it does take place in the same universe as Welcome to Colney. I hope you guys like it.

When you arrived at Wembley Park the sight of the stadium brought goosebumps to your skin. The stadium was legendary and as you looked up the steps at the end of Wembley way you saw the video montage advertising the historic match between the Champions of Europe and the Copa de America champions. A sense of pride fills you when you see the moment Leah lifts the trophy. You may not have known her at that point but hearing the way she described that day makes you feel like you were there. Then it showed you and the rest of the Brazilian team lifting your town trophy and you are reminded why you are there. You have a job to do and there it just so happened that the person standing in your way was also your girlfriend.

You were looking forward to the press conference because it meant you got to see Leah. Having just arrived for their MD -1 training, Leah and Sarina were already outside the conference room by the time you and Pia arrive.

“Don’t worry, you’re not late” You hear Leah say when she sees you reach into your pocket for your phone

It had only been four days since you had since Leah but boy was she a sight for sore eyes. 

You didn’t know what to do. With both Sarina and Pia standing close by you couldn’t greet the blonde you way you truly wanted to so you settle a hug which doesn’t half as long as you wished and subtly place a kiss to her neck as not to get caught by the women in front of you.

The four of you make small talk until a member of the media team tell you that the press conference is ready to begin. You and Leah enter side by side but are soon split up with you being placed at one end of the table and Leah at the other.

“They have to seperate us” Leah says earning a laugh from the journalists 

The blonde jokingly holds up her fists, a gesture which you respond.

“I’ll do my fighting on the pitch” 

Your competitive nature is something that Leah admired, now less so considering she was on the opposite end of it. 

The first couple of questions were for the coaches and whilst you tried your hardest to listen and take in what they were saying, your focus remained on your girlfriend. No words were exchanged put plenty was said with your eyes.

“Focus Y/N” your coach whispers whilst Sarina answer a journalist’s question.

“I am”

“On the press, not on your girlfriend” 

When you and Leah officially started dating you didn’t hide it. The fans soon noticed the way you were always together. They caught the moments when you hand rested a little bit too low on Leah’s back or how she was wore clothes that struck a striking resemblance to yours.

“I’m playing mind games” 

“No, you’re letting her in your head. Parar agora” 

Pia was right. Leah had been sending you teasing messages all day about how Wembley is her house and nobody will beat her there. She had access to your head that nobody else had and although you wouldn’t admit it, she was breaking you down from the inside.

You wait for the question that you know is coming. It just a matter of whether you or Leah gets asked it.

“Y/N, Leah” you both look at each other “Tomorrow you will be marking each other. Do you think this is will be easier or harder given that you are team mates?”

Leah waits knowing that you will want to answer this question.

“Before coming to Arsenal I knew that Leah was one of the the best centre backs in the world. In the last few months I have seen the reason why she rightfully has this title. As for tomorrow, what’s the saying? Iron sharpens Iron. I know Leah will bring her A game but there’s nothing I want more than to walk away from Wembley tomorrow Finalissima champions and being the first team to beat England under Sarina Wiegman”

She knew you meant it but the emotionless tone of your voice worried Leah. You were her team mate and girlfriend yet the way you talked about was as if she was just another opponent.

“Thanks Y/N” Leah jokes “Tomorrow is going to be difficult. Brazil has the reputation they have for a reason. Their playing style is like no other and we welcome the challenge. I admire Y/N’s optimism but we are playing at Wembley, these are our fans and we won’t let them down, they will see us lift another trophy” 

The tension between the two of you grew thick and heavy within seconds.

 “As you can see our captains are ready for battle” Pia jokes.

When the press conference ends you have an uneasy feeling in your gut. Ever since this fixture was announced you and Leah joked about going head to head but now that it’s the day before the game things have changed, there is no longer room for jokes.

The four of you leave the conference room, Pia says she will meet you back in the hotel stating that you need to be back for team meal and Sarina tells Leah to meet her on the pitch in ten minutes. 

Once you are alone you sink down the wall, Leah soon join you. When she is by your side your hand rests on her thigh and she leans her head against your shoulder.

“Are you ok?” Leah asks.

“It’s a lot” you place a gentle kiss to the side of her head “I hate that one of us has to lose tomorrow”

“It’s all part of the game Y/N, the game you love so much. That competitive fire the burns in there” Leah taps your heart “is why you care so much and it’s why you feel the way you do” 

“It is going to be really fun to beat you tomorrow”

“I’m being supportive and you’re ruining it” 

“I know, I’m sorry” 

Abruptly, Leah stands up and for a small moment you think she is mad at you so you avoid eye contact, instead choosing to play with the laces on your trainers. You feel Leah kick your foot gently in attempt to get your attention, it works. She holds her hands up and helps you to your feet.

“Tomorrow is going to be incredible, win or lose. We are making history and there’s no one I would rather do it with. We are going to lead our teams out to a sold out Wembley stadium and then at the end of the game I want you to come and find me, ok?”

It amazed you how Leah knew exactly what to say to make you feel better, no matter the circumstance.

“Come here” 

You greet her the way you wanted you before the press conference but your kiss is cut short when you hear someone clearing their throat. Much to your annoyance Leah pulls away but you pull in and steal one more kiss. 

Playing in front of a sold out Wembley stadium is something many few can say they have done especially in the women’s game and it is a moment you will tell your children about in the future but right now the screams of the home fans make you realise the challenge at hand will be anything but easy. 

The first half ends with England up 1-0, the home side was proving that Wembley was in fact their house but it wasn’t over yet and you were determined to play your heart out for the next 45 minutes. Despite the absence of Marta and Debinha, you are Geyse are putting the England defenders through it and they are struggling to keep up with your pace and Brazilian flair. They are starting to get desperate as the second half is all Brazil.

Just as you are through on goal your ankles get clipped and given where you are on the field you know exactly who is responsible for it. 

“Watch it baby, being cute only gets you so far” you whisper as she helps you to your feet.

This is how to game goes and as the clock counts down Brazil get’s closer and closer to getting the equaliser. It’s not matter of if, it’s a matter of time and that time comes in 93rd minute. The moment you hit the ball you know it is going into the back of the next. You quickly celebrate before grabbing the ball so that the game can restart as soon as possible but there isn’t enough time for a second goal as the final whistle is blown.

Penalties. 

Both teams have strong penalty takers so it comes as no surprise when the fifth and final penalty determines the game. The referee gave you the ball and the boos that followed were deafening. You could feel your heart beating rapidly but it didn’t change a thing. You had taken countless penalties over your career and the key is to treat each one the same, the crowd & venue didn’t matter.

You weren’t predicable when it came to placement from the spot yet somehow Mary is able to get her fingers to the ball and sends it over the bar. She did it, she had saved your shot and you had cost your team the Finalissima.

You couldn’t believe it. The sounds of the crowd became muffled almost as if you were underwater. Your gaze remains on the goal, which was now empty as Mary Earps has long left to celebrate with her team, you were in shock and you mind replays the shot over and over again. The shame you felt was overwhelming and you wasn’t ready to face your team yet but you knew they would be on their way to you.

Leah watched from a distance as you crouched down with you head hanging between your legs. She is torn between celebrating with her team and going to comfort you. In the end she chooses the latter knowing that she has all night to be with her friends.

“Give her a minute” Rafaelle stands in front of her blocking the way.

“I just want to see if she is alright” Leah didn’t want to challenge her team mate and your friend.

“Y/N has never missed a penalty in her entire career and to do it now, in front of all these people and in a final. She felt a lot of pressure for this game”

“We all did and for it to go to penalties isn’t what any of us wanted” 

Leah tries to explain that they all felt pressure given the stakes but Rafaelle still tries to explain your point of view. She knows by past experiences that there’s no way you will talk about what you felt today and what this loss means to you.

“You see the number she wears” Rafaelle point to where you are now stood and more so the the 10 on the back of your shirt “That 10 means a lot in Brazil and she will feel like she failed not only us but everyone back home. She says it’s her job to score goals and today she did that but she won’t be happy with one because she knows if she would have scored two then we would have won”

“I won’t say anything Rafa, I just need her to know that it is ok”

“Leah I know you are her girlfriend and she loves you but I’m her best friend so listen to me when I say give her some time and wait for her to come to you. This will hurt Leah”

The blonde didn’t hear a word the Brazilian said after ‘she loves you’. You and Leah hasn’t said those words said but she wanted to.

Eventually you rejoin your team and congratulate the opposition on their win. You interaction with Leah is short and you keep your game face on, you couldn’t let Leah see through your facade.

“You played really well Y/N” After her discussion Leah didn’t know what to say to you.

“Not good enough but congratulations Leah” 

For a brief moment Leah thinks are you going to kiss her and it gives her peace knowing that you are ok but you move to side at the last minute, the kiss is placed on her cheek instead of her lips.

She watches as you walk into the tunnel with your medal in your medal in your hand instead of round your neck.

An hour or so later you stood at the balcony on the rooftop of your hotel as you watched the England fans on the street below you. It hurt knowing that you let your team and country down but what you hate the most if that no matter how hard you try you cannot be happy for your girlfriend.

“I’m surprised to see you here” the sound of Geyse’s voice brings you out of your trance.

“Where else am I suppose to be?” 

“We thought you would be with Leah” Rafa and few of the other girls join you.

“No” you shake her head “I don’t think she wants to see me, I wasn’t the best girlfriend earlier”

“Y/N you were being a captain who tends to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders”

“It’s my job and today I failed—“

“You didn’t fail us and we wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to spend the night with your girlfriend especially when we leave for Germany tomorrow” 

“I don’t know where she is”

Just has you finish your sentence you phones goes off.

“Leah?” Rafa asks and you shake your head.

It wasn’t Leah but it was someone that could help you find her but it came with one condition, an exchange of shirts. You double check that the team are happy for you to leave and they all but push you towards the door.

Meanwhile at a restaurant within Wembley Stadium the Lionesses are celebrating the win with their families but Leah cannot help but think about one person that isn’t with her. She stares at her phone screen with her thumb hovering over your contact. She knew Rafaelle was right but she needed to know if you were ok.

“Still thinking about your hot Brazillian girlfriend?” Beth asks. Although she wasn’t playing in the game she still showed up the support them. 

“Rafa said to wait until she comes to be but I don’t know I can wait that long”

“Well it looks like you won’t need to” Beth turns her team mate around to where you have just entered the restaurant.

You were still dressed in your team tracksuit and the look of defeat was there but barely visable to anyone that didn’t know you. She sees your eyes scan the room and a smile appears on her face when you find her. The closer you get to her the bigger the smile gets and Leah knows the one her face mirrors yours.

“Minha Linda” your arms wrap around her tightly.

“What are you doing here?” Leah asks before kissing you quickly.

“I’m here to support and celebrate my girlfriend because that is what she deserves” your arms fall to her waist.

“How did you know where we were?” 

You hold up your match worn shirt and watch as a look of guilt washes over Leah’s face. 

“Baby, I swapped with Rafa” Leah didn’t know what to say. If she had known you wanted to swap shirts with her than she wouldn’t have given hers to her fellow centre back.

“This isn’t for you. It’s for Mary” Leah eyes widen at her keeper’s name “I know, she’s got guts but I think her performance makes her deserving, don’t you?”

“She put an end to your streak” Leah couldn’t help it as a smirk tugs her lips. She hates that it was against your but Mary’s save won them trophy and she was proud of her.

“She did but next time we play I want your shirt, deal?” 

“Deal” 

You quickly made go over to Mary who upon seeing you enter already has her shirt ready. The two of you sign them before posing for a photo and you make sure to congratulate the keeper on her exceptional performance, Mary Earps had earned your respect in that game and you wanted to make sure she knew that.

Having shared you enough, Leah pulls you back over to where her family are seated and introduces you to the entire Williamson family. 

Leah saw you relax as the night went on but she remembered what she was told earlier on and she couldn’t let it go. She hates the amount of pressure you put on yourself, she saw the way you were with Arsenal but with Brazil it grew tenfold and you needed you to know you weren’t alone.

“Y/N” Leah tapped you thigh softly as you listened to what her mum and brother were talking about. Upon hearing your name you turn your attention to your girlfriend “I want you to know that you’re not alone anymore. I’m here if you want someone to talk to about the pressure you feel about representing your country. I know it’s a little bit different for you but I understand what you’re going through” 

“Leah I know that I have you and it means a lot. I knew you understood me the day we first met and it’s why I feel the most at peace when I’m with you. Today was hard and losing the game was tough but it’s moments like this with you that I know win or lose everything will be ok”

You had spent the past couple of days stressing about the outcome of this game and what it would mean for you and Leah, in the end it didn’t change a thing. If anything you both respected each other more and it became a memory that you will both remember for a long time to come.

[suratan-zir]

Hi. I wanted to ask how you have those among Ukrainians who believe in russian propaganda. I just met one refugee from Kharkov, and he told me that Putin is fighting for the Russian world, and it was the United States that started the war. He reasons that since he speaks Russian, he should support Russia's actions. And this despite the fact that his city was bombed, and he and his family were on the verge of life and death.

Hi. I can't really answer this. I mean, I can try, but I'm not good at answering vague questions. I'm not well-spoken enough.

How come so many USAmericans worship Trump and see him as a savior of the poor when he's the exact opposite? How come far-right parties all across Europe gain more and more popularity, with people believing that fascists in power will resolve all their problems? Hell, we can take it a step further and ask how come people become anti-vaxxers and flat Earth believers? The answer is only one - propaganda. People fall under the harmful influence.

Russian propaganda has been extremely active in the southeast of Ukraine basically since we gained independence. Russia has been spending millions upon millions on brainwashing Ukrainians. The propaganda became more and more aggressive since the Orange Revolution. It was everywhere in the Donbas, you couldn't even wear a piece of orange clothing without risking being beaten up.

I was only a middle-schooler, but I remember it in detail. Propaganda materials such as leaflets were distributed everywhere. I remember one with Viktor Yushchenko (pro-European presidential candidate) against the background of the US flag and Uncle Sam who's saying, "Yushchenko is our pResident." I remember asking my mother what it meant, and she said it means that Yushchenko is a very bad person. This stuff was wild. And it only got wilder.

Russian propaganda claims over the years varied from the statement that "Donbas feeds the entire Ukraine" to "pro-European politicians and the US will make concentration camps in the Donbas for the Russian-speakers and will populate the territory with people from the West instead." I don't know how, but people believed in this purely artificial conflict. Not only were there never any persecutions against the Russian-speakers, but you would actually feel more comfortable speaking Russian in Ukraine. In most regions, the Ukrainian language was considered a "redneck" language and would get you nowhere. Of course, the Ukrainian government is also to blame for letting Russia control the narrative. But for most of these independent years, Ukraine was basically externally managed by Russia. During Yanukovych's presidency, we were like Belarus is now - a false "president" taking instructions straight from the Kremlin. So the brainwashing was getting worse and worse.

I told this story several times, and I'll tell it again. Before the "referendum" in Donetsk, most people laughed at the idea of the "republic." It was supported by some local lunatics, but mostly the whole thing was done by russian mercenaries and russian military. During this time, my aunt told me that those who support this are crazy and they're calling war into our homes. She was a reasonable person. She had a job, a nice apartment of her own, a happy family, and a bright future ahead. In 2015 they fled from Donetsk to russia, along with my grandmother. Why to russia? Propaganda. Then they got russian citizenship and used it to vote for putin. I asked how they could vote for him after what he did to them, after they lost it all. "We're thankful he gave us a home, gave us citizenship," was the answer. At first, he took everything from you, ruined your life, then let you restore a tiny bit of it - and you're grateful. I don't know how this works. It's not like they were welcomed in russia, they faced a lot of prejudice and oppression for being from Donetsk. To the point that my cousin was bullied at school for being from the Donbas, not only by kids but by teachers, despite being an excellent student and graduating with honors. Russians are outraged that their state "rescues" and "helps" those Donbas khokhols instead of helping "true" russians.

In the second month of the full-scale invasion, my grandmother proposed that I move to them, to the moscow region of russia. "This is the country that is trying to kill us all, how can you ask me to move there?" "What difference does it make which country to live in? It's safe here." So along with pro-putin brainrot comes also apoliticalness, passivity.

I'm rambling at this point. I don't want to go on about this forever, like I know I can. Let's leave it at this.

[meimi-haneoka]

Clear Card Trivia 4 ~ The most ancient Magicians of Europe, the Magic Association and their role in Clear Card

Welcome back to my corner focused on eviscerating all the thematics, hidden messages, trivia, aspects of Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card!!

We're at the 4th "episode" of this series (you can find the previous ones under the #clear card trivia hashtag) and this time around the tone of the thematic will change a little bit. We get into a darker corner. Yes, because when it was time to decide for the next thematic I would delve into, I felt it was finally time to address everything concerning The Magic Association and Akiho's clan, the so-called Most Ancient Magicians of Europe.

I've been feeling the need to delve into these two "entities" appearing in Clear Card for long time and for several reasons. One of those is that there are still so many people out there who tend to conflate the two and confuse "who did what". It's time we dot the i's and cross the t's on who's who. And rest assured I made sure to mention every single thing we know (and don't know) about them. For this reason, the post is a bit long, but I wanted to make it as comprehensive as possible.

Moreover, these two groups of people hide a very deep and important role inside Clear Card's story. Despite representing the darkest, most horrible part of this arc (I'd daresay if we have to find a villain in CCS at all costs, we have quite found them), I can see and appreciate a lot the social commentary CLAMP made through them.

If you're curious to know what this social commentary is and read in one place everything we know about these magicians, just follow me under the cut!

The Magic Association of England

Let's start with them. The first mention we have of the "Magic Association of England" (in Japanese イギリスの魔法協会 or they've been called 魔術師協会 - Magicians association - too ) is in volume 4, chapter 15, when Eriol over the phone reveals their existence to Syaoran, and even correctly speculates that Yuna D. Kaito might be one of their members.

Basically, the Magic Association of England is a congregation of powerful magicians (not necessarily related by blood) who associate together for their mutual personal benefit. Their headquarters are, of course, in England.

They are recognizable in the story by their long black robe with purple lining and a headpiece that covers their heads and faces entirely, shaped vaguely like the head of a dragon.

It seems like they are organized according to a hierarchy, for two reasons: some of them wear an additional layer of clothing on their shoulders, as a way to indicate a "higher rank" of magicians (they're probably the oldest ones, or the ones who run the entire thing), but they also assign "titles" to their magicians basing on their level of magic - Kaito is basically the strongest (while not being part of the higher hierarchy, because he doesn't wear the additional piece of clothing) and he's been assigned the title of "D". That's what the "D" in his (fake) name means, nothing else. We can assume there are magicians of rank C, B and A too, in this Association. They even seem to have a collective magic circle, as we can see in more than one scene, but more clearly in chapter 79:

As Eriol implies very early in chapter 15 (and as we will have plenty of opportunities to see with our own eyes), their activities are shady at best and criminal at worst (that's why Eriol replies to an unaware Syaoran "Your clan probably hasn't mentioned them to you yet, because of the plenty bad rumors about them").

It also seems like they constantly try to recruit new members and actively look for powerful magicians to add to their ranks. Like they did with little Kaito, reaching him at the unknown location he was living in (beware, this is often a point of confusion but the men with the caucasian-like headpieces we see in the flashback are not part of the Magic Association. It is just a "circle of people" where little Kaito lived for a period after being separated by his parents.)

Not only that, but in order to achieve their main goal, they also seem to form "alliances" with other influential parties. This is apparently done for the common goal of broadening the Association, their authority and influence in the magic world, as stated by little Kaito himself in volume 13, chapter 60. Although, little Kaito also says that they won't think twice in betraying those alliances when they see fit, and it seems to be customary because the boy says that it's certain to happen.

And "alliance" is the type of relationship that connects them to the next subjects of this post.

The Most Ancient Magicians of Europe

The "Most Ancient Magicians of Europe" (in Japanese 欧州最古の魔術師達) get introduced for the first time in volume 6, chapter 25. Yet, the very first mention of a "clan" Akiho belonged to appears as early as volume 5, chapter 21, when Akiho explains to Kaito she recognized the robe passed down in her clan in the vision she had unwittingly shared with Sakura.

Their ceremonial outfit is composed by a white robe with a light blue cloak hemmed in yellow, just like the removable headpiece covering entirely one's face when pulled up. They also have a collective magic circle identifying the magicians part of the Clan:

As opposed to the Magic Association, this clan is a big family of magicians, all related by blood. They do not seem to have a common last name they go by, like the Li Clan does for example. This gives an inkling about their very broad reach. Although the ones closest to Akiho seem to have their headquarters in England just like the Association, the name suggests that their scope and/or presence might be spanning all over Europe. The family is so big that Lilie basically married one of her distant relatives, part of the same clan.

In this regard, I have to make a very important clarification about a translation mistake in the ENG localization that affects concretely the plot. This mistake made it to the printed volumes.

As you can see here, the ENG translation basically makes a Clan member state that they have the same blood as Clow Reed. We all know that Clow Reed was born from an English father and a Chinese mother and since in this scene the Clan is talking about their rivalry with the Li clan, it is almost automatic to assume that they are the Reed Family.

This is a very egregious translation mistake, as the correct translation is the version that the scanlation group RhapsodyInBlue uploaded back in the day:

A "They are of Clow Reed lineage" (as the Li's indeed are) turned into "For the blood of Clow Reed", giving birth to quite a big misunderstanding.

This clan has never been officially confirmed to have any blood ties with Clow Reed.

Any indication in that sense is pure speculation and fan theories. I know "it's the official English translation that says so!" but unfortunately this is not the first and definitely not even the last translation mistake that affects severely the understanding of the plot.

The only thing we know for certain about the Most Ancient Magicians in Europe (I'll call them "Squid Clan" going forward, cause this is a common nickname I've been using forever in fandom) is that they hold a grudge against Clow for unknown reasons (they wouldn't be the first ones) and consequently they are constantly competing with the Li Clan (blood relatives of Clow) for who is more powerful and influential between their Clans. Although we don't know if it's mutual, this rivalry is nothing recent, as it was already there when Akiho and Syaoran were born, and it's certainly part of the cause that pushed the Squid Clan to turn Akiho into an artifact (to compete with Syaoran of the Li Clan). Syaoran is very well aware of who they are, as he's the one recognizing the robe in Sakura's dream in volume 10, chapter 46.

Another thing that I wish to point out is that, although fandom spaces sometimes call this Clan as "Shinomoto Clan" or even arbitrarily call Lilie as "Lilie Shinomoto", none of this has been hinted at or even confirmed in canon. In fact, the sticker with a phrase from Lilie that is being given out at the CLAMP Exhibition held in this period in Tokyo, indicates her name as just "Lilie", not "Lilie Shinomoto", while all the other characters are fully featured with their first and last name. As it's been revealed in chapter 80, Akiho uses an alias in everyday's life, following a common practice in magic clans. So it's very likely that the entire name "Akiho Shinomoto" is an alias and "Shinomoto" got nothing to do with the Clan Akiho was born in at all.

When they were still alive, Akiho's mother and father were the most powerful magicians in that Clan, with dreamseer Lilie being the top magician. And as we can hear from her own words, the Squid Clan's collective goal is to put their hands on the magic of the entire world and on any means to operate it. That is particularly evident in the purpose for which they have turned Akiho into an artifact. It is also what seemingly steers their interest when it comes to marrying off their members: feelings and happiness of the parties concerned are of no importance, all that matters is how profitable that union will be for the Clan in terms of power. That's why they were thrilled to know Lilie and her husband decided to marry, but then considered it a failure and said they should've never let them meet when they lost their life in an accident and all they left to the Clan was a magicless little Akiho.

Kaito and the Magic Association

Next, let's review how both of these groups affected the other characters.

The Magic Association approached little Kaito in the community he was living in (unknown location) when he was very little, asking him "to help them out". They had certainly sensed his astounding powers for someone so young and saw an opportunity to make their Association grow. Little Kaito didn't particularly want to help them out (or do something for someone else, for that matter), but due to his already problematic growth process and emerging child depression (from what we can see in the flashback, he was seemingly feared and kept at arm's length by the people of that community, so he was already growing up in solitude - I wouldn't exclude they were the ones calling the Association to have him taken away), he didn't even feel strongly against the idea, so he just decided to accept.

What followed were years where Kaito kept growing up in solitude despite being surrounded by so many adults, fending for himself, feeding on anything that was edible enough (Lilie will find him eating a Calorie Mate for lunch), without a shred of love, care or emotional education, simply used as a tool and exploited for his strong magic powers. The boy had the opportunity to train and develop his powers even further, quickly becoming unrivalled in magic battles.

Along the story, Eriol (in a short chapter) came into possession of secret documents about Kaito's life in the Association (the sheets bring the Association mark) and he said that they included his "spectacular war records". What exactly he meant with that term isn't clear, but it's legit to assume that the Association might had young Kaito fight against other magicians (we don't know the extent of the violence of those fights).

Kaito's impressive performances in magic earned him the title of "D" in the Magic Association, the highest title that can be bestowed on a magician in their environment, and he was allowed to attend the Association's meetings with the higher members of the council. During a "character exposition" moment, Eriol reveals that the request that the Association made to Kaito the most was to use time magic for their benefit. This, well knowing the effects that time magic has on the caster. They had a young boy performing that dangerous magic, shaving off his own life span, while they continued undisturbed and unaffected.

Note that in all the flashbacks we saw of Kaito in the Association, we never saw him taking initiatives in their activities, but just merely following passively the orders he received. From his bored behavior we can see in volume 7 chapter 31, he wasn't particularly keen in attending their meetings either. Even the abomination the Association did on Akiho, he never took any part in it, he was merely informed at "fait accompli" (this might be harder to get for how they translated this in the ENG version, but in the flashback in Japanese the Association talks in past tense, as something that had already happened).

From all the hints and scenes we can see of young Kaito in the Association, up to the conversation he had with Lilie and the multiple warnings he gave her about their intentions, my idea is that Kaito wasn't aligning with their wicked morals and felt uncomfortable among them, that's why he strived to be kept alone as much as possible, but being the only adults he could cling to, and with an already crippled self-esteem, he didn't even have enough will to leave that place forever.

Until Akiho came into the picture, that is.

When both Kaito and Akiho were two little children, the Squid Clan requested to the Association to have their most powerful magician to "check up" little Akiho at a distance for any trace of magic power in her body.

This is the incident that basically started everything: Kaito said with honesty that the girl had no powers, "just like a blank book", with the hope that her Clan would expel her and let her live a normal life. Sadly, some years later, that same comment had been taken literally by Akiho's blood relatives and gave birth to a very sick plan for Akiho's purpose in the Clan.

Despite seeking his assistance due to his massive magic powers, the Association was at the same time very wary of Kaito. His unbothered and disinterested behavior might also be the reason why the Association and the Squid Clan didn't trust him and decided to engrave the "Seal of D" on him when he offered himself to escort Akiho in her travels around the world, unknowingly seeking for magic to write on her body (I'll talk about this whole matter in the next paragraph).

The "Seal of D" is a magic of "confinement" that works only on magicians with a title of "D". It's easy to imagine why this thing exists in the first place: magicians with such enormous magic powers are convenient but also pose a threat to the authority of the Association, especially considering how there's no sense of comradery and loyalty in this group of people, and they're ready to betray anyone at any moment. The "Seal of D" works as some kind of "trap" that is triggered by the undesired behavior of the magician (in this case, they had programmed it as "should the magician tamper with the magic artifact in any way, activate the Seal of D on him"). Young Kaito had no qualms in accepting to let them engrave it on himself, because at that time he already had a rampant self-loathing and probably the guilt of what he realized he had caused was already wrecking his mental state. They even had the nerve to ask him "Do you understand what it entails?", as if shaking the responsibility off themselves. Of course he didn't know. He didn't have a complete idea of what he would have to sacrifice, at that time.

Following Kaito's refusal to return Akiho to their abusers (roughly around 1 year prior the events of Clear Card), they excommunicated him officially from the Magic Association and started persecuting both of them. In volume 7, chapter 33, we saw one of those attempts at attacking them to take Akiho back, promptly repelled by Kaito in secret to not let Akiho notice anything. It is easy to guess there had been other attempts in the past. This is also very likely the reason why for Kaito it was absolutely vital to live in Eriol's ex-mansion once they arrived in Japan, as the house was naturally a perfect place to store and protect magic artifacts.

When Kaito exchanged the artifact implanted in Akiho's body with his own pocket watch, the Seal of D and everything that happened afterwards was triggered automatically, sealing Kaito away in a hidden dimension where time was destroyed, stripping him of his humanity and caging him in the form of a dragon, unable to talk, to move or use his magic. Any attempt to free him would trigger an endless stream of magic attacks, like Sakura and Syaoran had the displeasure to realize later.

One peculiar thing that I'd like to remark and that contributes to emphasize even more how despicable those magicians were, is that when Eriol started investigating to understand who Yuna D. Kaito was, with the help of the Li Clan he found out that the "official version" of why Kaito was excommunicated from the Association was that he had "lost" an important taboo artifact that shouldn't have been removed from its premises for no reason. Furthermore, rumors over rumors said he didn't "lose it", he actually ran away with it. All of this is of course a lie spread to make Kaito look like a delinquent who stole the magic artifact (Akiho), when in fact they were the ones willingly sending Akiho away. It is very likely they were the ones spreading this misinformation to both make Kaito look like a criminal but also to not lose face in front of the magic world.

Kaito's permanence in the Magic Association worsened exponentially an already precarious situation with his upbringing, exacerbating his low self-esteem, denying him a childhood where he could know the warmth and comfort of love, exploiting his magic powers at his own expense, while not meeting any resistance from him, reacting to this abuse with a concerning "apathy" as self-defense, for something he could not comprehend entirely yet, and so he could not effectively consent to it. It is a kind of "silent abuse", where they didn't use violence on him (at least not for what it was shown and not till he was still living with them), but still wrecked him on the inside in ways that are not visible to the eye, and it will probably take years and years to heal. Akiho alludes to those scars in volume 6, chapter 29, when she confides to Sakura her fear that Kaito might be suffering in silence from scars "invisible to the eye".

Because of this, his relationship with other people and the way he goes about things might appear particularly troublesome and hard to understand. He definitely doesn't react to things as someone with a healthy upbringing. His abuse and exploitation has been explicitly mentioned by Mokona sensei in a Twitter Space, so even if it's pretty evident once you carefully read the chapters of his backstory, it's confirmed even on the author side.

Akiho and the Most Ancient Magicians of Europe

Cosmos, whom we've known as "Akiho Shinomoto" in the story, was born into the clan of the Most Ancient Magicians of Europe as a result of the love and union between Lilie and her husband, both part of the same clan and respectively first and second strongest magicians in that family. It is immediately horrifying the realization, along the story, that Akiho's abusers are people of her own family, tied to her by blood.

But let's proceed in order.

As soon as the accident that killed Lilie and her husband happened, the Clan took care of their only surviving daughter.

Ever since the first panels of Akiho's backstory, the Clan members are shown having great expectations about what kind of magic she would develop, as everyone else in that family had done till that moment. When they heard about Lilie and her beloved's engagement, they were already fantasizing about what incredible powers their offspring would have. That's all they ever cared about. At the "ripe old age" of about 1-2 years, the baby girl was expected to show some signs of magic as soon as she started walking, but she had none. It is roughly in this period that they had Yuna D. Kaito, from the Magic Association, evaluate her at a distance. Even though the boy declared she had no trace of powers, they seemingly decided to wait and see.

But by the time the girl turned 6/7, when she was old enough to read books, still no fragment of magic appeared in her. That was, for the clan, something unacceptable. And the beginning of Akiho's tribulations.

It was in this moment that they started to compare her to Syaoran, of the Li Clan in Hong Kong, and the concern with her non-existent powers began to look more and more like an obsession. They actually started seeing her as a stain on their Clan's pride. Suddenly, the focus was all on how they could surpass the other rival Clan, and Akiho was isolated, left in the grip of loneliness. A magicless member of the family was a member who didn't even deserve being talked to. An interrogatory, at most. They didn't really care if the little girl wanted to socialize, if she wanted to play, if she was the only young person in that Clan, missing her parents who died so early on. All the questions Akiho stubbornly made them about her parents were sistematically ignored, save for one little detail that she was able to snatch from them, probably out of exhaustion: that both her parents loved mint chocolate. It was an apparently insignificant detail, which for Akiho became everything she knew about her parents, and the only "proof" she had of her connection to them. She was also denied any picture of mom and dad, probably deeming her unworthy of them.

In the short story n. 2, Akiho tells Kaito that her Clan denied her even plushies. Even if she asked for some, they would tell her "if you've got time to play, then you've got time to read". In this sense, it is a miracle that Momo managed to stay, via the guise of a plushie, by Akiho's side throughout her childhood.

The girl grew up, and the situation stayed the same, or rather, it worsened. The members of the Clan became more and more cruel, calling her “worthless”, “useless” in her face, in one scene they even doubted she could really be the daughter of her powerful parents. They kept making all kinds of attempts and experiments to see if she would develop any powers. As Akiho herself told Kaito in volume 13, chapter 60, she remembered how they'd repeat countless times how unfortunate it was that Lilie, a dreamseer, wasn't able to foresee her own demise, and that if all they would leave behind was such a worthless, magicless child, then they should've never let the magician and her husband meet. Basically, declaring in front of Akiho that it would have been better if she had never been born at all.

This was the moment where they completely went out of their mind and remembered Kaito's comment on her: if she was "like a blank book", they would make sure to turn her into one.

With the collaboration of the Magic Association, they executed a magic ritual to turn a human being into a magic artifact, engraving a magic tool inside Akiho's body (the infamous book that we will see in its entirety in volume 16, chapter 79. Note, this is DIFFERENT from the white Book of Time guarded by Momo that Akiho carries with her everywhere). We never saw entirely the scene of the crime, but the few flashbacks CLAMP depicted are horrifying enough: Akiho floated over an altar, seemingly tied to it by a chain made of pearls around her ankle. She was completely surrounded by members of the Clan and the Association, and we could even spot both the Clan's and Association's magic circles hovering over and under her. In a particular scene, we saw Sakura in Akiho's place, and she seemed to be suffering. Probably what Akiho herself went through during the real thing. After the successful completion of the procedure, it seems the magicians burned the book they took this taboo ritual from, as a way to have the exclusitivity of the artifact for themselves.

The ritual didn't come without a price though, even for those who executed it. The magicians discussed the toll that such a taboo ritual would take on them, but since their greed was stronger than anything else, they still considered it worth the loss. When the Association's higher members informed Kaito of the successful experiment (and bragged about how magnificent it was), they also mentioned the price they had to pay: several members of both the Clan and the Association lost some magic spells and rituals forever.

It is to be noted that Akiho doesn't seem to have any recollection of this ritual and what happened during it, nor she's ever aware that she carries a magic artifact in herself, so it's pretty much legit to assume they've put her to sleep throughout it. Or....the trauma caused her some memory loss.

Either way, from that moment onwards, Akiho was just considered "an artifact" created and owned by both the Clan and the Magic Association, for their own consumption. The plan was to make little Akiho travel the world to hoard all the magic she could absorb from several grimoires, as that was less risky (in their sick mind) than bringing all the grimoires to her. And in chapter 80, we saw the amount of grimoires that Akiho had unwittingly engraved on herself along the years.

As if this wasn’t horrifying enough, the spell hoarding all the grimoires progressively tried to crush her soul and conscience, until it would get destroyed completely. So when the artifact reached its limit, it would've been the death of Akiho as a human being. Only a shell of her would remain. And judging by what was said by Kaito in volume 8, chapter 35, they actually hoped for her to lose her consciousness completely, so they could make use of her more easily.

As we all know, that's when Kaito decided to step up and change the course of his and Akiho's lives forever, offering himself to accompany her in the travel they planned for her.

Just like in Kaito's case, rehashing Akiho’s past in the Clan is important to understand her personality and behavior fully. CLAMP, in the Clear Card manga, have portrayed the story of her past in a very peculiar way: it starts as any other fairytale, with light tones and cute designs. But as the story progresses, and the horror ensues, the tone of the tale changes, and so the drawing style too. It becomes serious, darker and “realistic” (as opposed to the initial cutesy style). What started as a possible generic fairytale, turned into a real nightmare.

Mokona sensei described Akiho as having "nerves of steel" in a Clamp Space, and that certainly helped the girl surviving her childhood in her Clan. Yet, certain things will simply wreck you up inside, willing or not. And in the flashback of volume 6, chapter 25, we could see Akiho struggling to comfort herself with the fantasy stories she would read to keep herself company. Despite wanting to enjoy them and smile, tears of loneliness still cut through her eyes. The mental abuse the Clan inflicted on Akiho showed its effects throughout the manga, with various moments where the girl's optimistic and cheerful nature would crack at the memory of what she had to endure while she lived with her relatives. Her apologetic behavior, constantly seeking for validation, is another symptom of that trauma. All of this, ignoring that her abuse didn't stop at mere verbal one. Because what they engraved into her with that ritual crosses any boundary and trespasses into physical abuse too. This is truly the most horrific part of Clear Card and it's no surprise that's been received by the fandom with criticism and concern while the serialization was going on.

Yet, I think the fact CLAMP wanted to introduce and depict the abuse these two magic groups perpetrated *in Cardcaptor Sakura*, of all stories, totally makes sense and in the next paragraph I will hopefully explain why.

How Sakura Was Affected By Them

Now that we have eviscerated both the Magic Association and the Squids Clan in every possible aspect, it's time to look at what CLAMP tried to depict through their presence in the story and what kind of role they have in the journey of self-understanding and growth for the main character Sakura Kinomoto. None of this is possible without taking in consideration all that I've explained above. ☝️

Truthfully, the Association + the Clan touched and affected (or we should say wrecked) Kaito and Akiho the most, directing their dangerous attentions towards Sakura only a couple of times. But they were very important for her growth too, since they represented the first "taste" of what awaits her as one of the most powerful magicians out there, and they led her to make the most important decision she's ever made till that moment.

After all, Eriol said it loud and clear. Powerful magicians are naturally drawn to Sakura, since she is a powerful magician herself. And Sakura was meant to meet all the magicians she encountered throughout her story.

The first point of "contact" with these two groups of criminals happened in volume 6, chapter 27, in the infamous scene of Fujitaka's library. The strong energy present in that place (capable to protect Clow Reed's book and the guardians) triggered the artifact inside Akiho, opening it (almost) completely. It was heartbreaking to watch Akiho push Sakura away with the last crumble of consciousness left in her, seemingly to protect her, before the Clan and the Association took control of her body through the artifact and started commenting on Sakura's powers. Several members of the two groups, both male and female voices, took turns in talking through Akiho, almost as if they possessed her. A scene that, if they'll decide to keep it in the anime adaptation, will be creepy at horror movie levels. Of course this is another one of those details that was completely lost in the English translation, as they didn't keep the difference in fonts that you can see in the Japanese one, hence you don't understand that it's not Akiho speaking, but most importantly there are several people speaking through her. I think what's most disturbing of this depiction is how it conveys perfectly how much they consider Akiho a property. A property they can exploit and literally manipulate and make use of as they please.

As soon as the Clan and the Association realized who Sakura was (till that moment she was very likely shielded by that protective spell that Eriol and Kaho applied on the girl, the same that Momo and Kaito had to see through to find her), they immediately tried to absorb her power into Akiho. That, as I've pointed out earlier on, would've instantly meant the death of Akiho's soul, as her "capacity" was almost full by the time she reached Tomoeda. This attempt will be foiled by Kaito through time rewind at his own expense, but the criminals will try again in volume 7, chapter 34, when Sakura used her magic in stopped time. This triggered Akiho's artifact again, and this time they successfully managed to trap Sakura into the big book that emerged beneath Akiho's feet (the same scene we saw afterwards in chapter 70, once the artifact passed to Kaito). Once she was inside the book implanted in Akiho, thanks to her intuitive powers Sakura was able to see a flashback of the moment when Akiho was turned into a magic artifact, living it (and suffering it) from Akiho's point of view. Even this attempt to absorb Sakura's power was foiled by Kaito once again, with a time rewind.

In chapter 46 Syaoran mentioned the existence of the Clan to Sakura after seeing their robe in her dream. Other than that, Sakura won't come in direct contact with them again till the end of the story (the attacks at the fake moon were triggered automatically and they didn't have a direct intervention from the Squids/Association), but I'm pretty sure that once she regained all the memories of the un-rewritten world (including the memories erased by the time-rewinds, as we can see in some scenes featured in the "film strips"), she had already pretty much connected all the dots, hence why she proposed to Kaito and Akiho to erase their existence from the memories "of those people".

At the moment of the climax in chapter 78/79, Sakura finds herself in a situation where she starts to grasp that behind Akiho, the real Akiho, and this guy she doesn't remember but who's Akiho's most important person, there are people who want to hurt them. She doesn't know much, just what Akiho told her in bits and pieces throughout the story, but that's already enough for her to come to a very important conclusion (and decision).

The conclusion that in front of straight-up cruelty, she can't compromise, she can't keep being the good little girl who tries to be everybody's friend. Cruelty is inexcusable in Sakura's eyes, as it should be. All the more if the ones being hurt are people who are important to her.

Sakura finally learns with her very own eyes that in this world there isn't only the love, protection and comfort she grew up in, but there's wickedness and evil too. That such cruelty isn't a "far away thing" but it can actually hurt people very, very close to her. Of course, CLAMP calibrated on the target audience the depictions of such cruelty and Sakura's involvement with it, never crossing certain lines. The culmination of this realization is Sakura's decision to erase the existence of her friends from their abusers' memories, saying "What I'm about to do is probably not right, but I can't be on everyone's side". I thought that was one of the most powerful, most empowering messages that CLAMP hammered in our brains with Clear Card's finale. Our Sakura isn't a perfect, spotless angel. Within reason, she will stain her moral record a little bit, if it's necessary to protect the people important to her.

And here it's the right moment to introduce the symbology of the Magic Association and the Clan in this story. This is strictly connected to why Sakura made that decision, and why CLAMP decided to not have Sakura confronting the magicians directly.

A Message of Hope Through Social Commentary

Long time ago I had a very interesting discussion with a Japanese CCS fan on Twitter. This fan was wondering why the two groups seemed so important, like the source of all the problems behind this arc, yet they kept being depicted with their cloaks and headpieces pulled up, effectively hiding their identities from the readers' eyes. And the fan had found a very valid reason for it.

One of Ohkawa's private Twitter Spaces pretty much confirmed it for me, later on. Back then the topic was "prejudice" and chatting away, she ended up discussing a bit about CCS and particularly about Kaito's behavior in the chapters that were being serialized at the time. Her message between the lines was clearly "I know you think of him in a certain way right now, but don't let your better judgement be consumed by prejudice. When this story will be over, try to reconsider his behavior". The whole Space was centered on her effort in everyday's life to not let prejudice rule her decisions and assessment of situations.

With Clear Card's story over, I can finally attest that it truly was a story where CLAMP constantly tested our prejudices, time and time again. Not only with Kaito, but with Syaoran and other characters too. And the Japanese fan I was mentioning above explained that in their idea, the reason why CLAMP kept the Squids and Association's faces hidden the whole time was to prevent us from applying a prejudice over them too.

Their appearances don't matter. They can become distracting. This story isn't about them. It doesn't matter what skin color they have, if they're tall or short, if their hair is blonde or dark. We barely know they are located in England, we don't even have a name to call them with. Inside this story, all we need to know about them and focus on are their intentions and actions. Their actions are what define them and what we should be judging them for.

And that's when I realized the "no faces" approach also allowed for CLAMP to turn these two groups of people into a symbolic representation of abusive systems. Thanks to the fact that they're faceless, the readers can literally see in them whatever they can relate to basing on their own experiences: abusive families, exploitative working environments, but also modern society on a larger scale. Never doubt for one moment that CLAMP aren't still doing social commentary in their latest works, even after all these years.

Particularly, in this story Akiho's family is "just" a magic clan, but on a metaphorical level they are the representation of abusive families that burden children with expectations that destroy them psychologically. Think about how strong this metaphor is: "the spell that's been activated on Akiho by her clan will suffocate her soul until it gets destroyed completely, making her easier to manipulate" which is like saying "the family loads the children with lots of expectations, so much that they end up losing their identity, becoming 'puppets' of their family members". Some time ago I've read of a disabled Japanese fan who saw themselves in Akiho's character. Her lack of powers and the way she was treated by her family reminded the fan of their own disability, and what they had to endure everyday due to society's expectations and ableism. They were grateful to CLAMP for introducing a character like Akiho, with a story like hers, and that Sakura and all the Tomoeda kids accepted her and loved her for who she was.

In this way, it becomes clear that the Squids and the Association are representative of systems and concepts that are just too big for a little child to fight against on their own. And that's indeed what happened in this story to Sakura (and Akiho) too. Those magicians are ruthless, organized in big groups and magically very strong. There's no way an eventual fight would've been on equal footing for her, no matter how strong she is. She's just a 13 years old girl, she shouldn't be taking on herself the burden to go against such an overwhelming danger.

Just like in real life, darkness will always accompany light and evil will always exist alongside good. It's unrealistic and unfair to expect that a child could be facing evil all on their own. Even if they are supported by other dear people, it's just impossible and utopian to hope to eliminate evil from existence like Sakura would've eliminated the Squids and the Association in an eventual magic fight. Sakura is the heroine of the story, yes, but she isn't magically nor mentally equipped for such a thing. CLAMP didn't want to lie to us and to their youngest readers. Some battles might be just too overwhelming to fight, and if there's ONE thing they hammered like crazy in this arc is that, no matter what you do, even if you're protecting someone you love, you always have to remember to keep yourself safe at the same time. Reckless heroism doesn't really benefit anyone. That was valid for Syaoran, for Kaito and for Sakura too, in the end.

That's why CLAMP, through Sakura's choice, decided to not let her have a direct confrontation with those two groups of criminals. Besides, let's be honest. There's no way she could've made them convincingly "change their mind" and pressured them to turn suddenly into good people with just a couple of idealistic phrases. It would've honestly looked like a joke and an insult to all the readers who had to endure abuses in their own lives. Oh, how nice, Sakura turned the Big Bad Evils into good people! ...Sure, but what about the pain, neglect and suffering that were inflicted on those who were just little children? Erased by wiping those people's slates clean?

Honestly, the only viable way that wouldn't have insulted the reader's intelligence would've been a straight-up violent fight, and that would've been not only jarring to see in CCS, where violence is certainly not how you solve problems, but also probably resulted in Sakura's death. Which of course, no one wanted to see.

So what do we do when we find ourselves in front of an evil too big to confront, too big to fight on our own? We just give up? We just succumb?

Nope. That's indeed why CLAMP have Sakura deciding to erase the memories as an ultimate, well calculated attempt to free Akiho and Kaito from the grasp of their abusers and at the same time stop the attacks that were threatening to kill all of them. Instead of focusing the resolution of the problem on the abusers, engaging in a fight with them that would've probably worsened the situation, she decided to prioritize the people she loves and ensure their safety first and foremost. I believe CLAMP never wanted to make it all about Sakura vs. Evil Magicians in the finale. That's not the kind of story they wanted to tell. I believe their constant focus and concern in the finale was the marginalized, abused party and how Sakura could help them out from her "privileged" position of a girl blessed with love and protection from all sides. How she could make use of her gifts (both her magic power but also her safety network of people she loves and who love her in return) to do good. Real, effective good.

So, summarizing all the above: by not showing any of the Squids/Association's faces or names, CLAMP successfully conveyed the idea that in the climax Sakura didn't judge and repelled individuals, but rather, the systems they were representing. Sakura didn't oppose "Mark, blue eyes and dark hair" "Elizabeth, green eyes and blonde hair" but actually their systems AND their actions, the atrocities they committed. And what I appreciated is that she didn't need for Akiho to tell her every single thing about her past in order to make her decision, because that's something for Akiho to disclose IF and WHEN she'll feel ready to. She just needed to hear and concretely see that her friends were being literally hunted, and let herself be guided by her affection for Akiho. Sakura did all of this prioritizing her abused friends, the oppressed minority (here it comes out again the topic of minorities so dear and precious to the CCS franchise) while ALSO protecting herself, by not engaging in any dangerous fight with those horrible people.

CLAMP's message for all those children (and even adults) who are suffering for situations that are just too big to defeat on their own, is to first and foremost figure out how to break away from the abusive environment. Run away (like Kaito did), cut ties (like Sakura helped to do), find help so that the poison can't reach you and bring you down again. You have to look for help first and foremost, but also find in yourself the will to be helped.

Akiho and Kaito received help from Sakura, but they also wanted to be helped by her (that's the part where Sakura asked them for their consent on the memory-erasing spell not one, but THREE times). And that's pivotal. The two things are interconnected and salvation isn't possible if you don't genuinely find in yourself the will to be saved.

Once you can break away from the source of abuse, you can start again. You can take control of your life once again, lick your wounds, heal, move on and find happiness again. That's the concept of "we won't go back, we'll go on" that echoed loud and clear in Sakura's words during the finale.

I think the wish that inspired CLAMP while they were writing Clear Card's story is that any of their readers who are stuck in suffering can hopefully find their own support system.

Though the "Clans" or "Magic Associations" will keep existing out there, we don't have to face them alone. Our loved ones can help us getting out of that toxic environment and never look back.