#and feel a connection to the other person

[reignpage]

The Other Woman

Pt 1

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true. 

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting. 

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers. 

You keep reminding yourself of that. 

Satoru needs this. 

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by. 

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do. 

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for. 

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here. 

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm. 

You’re the wife. 

You’ve got the ring to prove it. 

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other. 

There’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t interrupt. 

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet. 

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end. 

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back. 

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell. 

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside. 

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him. 

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul. 

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back. 

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry. 

You’re just the woman he did. 

[earthtooz]

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[hexhomos]

I feel like people forget the reason viktor was socially adverse and disliked interacting with many people isn’t a lack or confidence, but a genuine annoyance with many people. He didn’t connect with people because they didn’t match him in goals, motives, intelligence, and personality.

and that’s why he chose Jayce. Jayce matched him, Jayce completed him and helped him. Jayce was a genuinely good person who had a brain and a personality.

Considering the way people in piltover are.... lol... this tracks big time and also really reminds me a lot of his orginal champion biography / motivations. Viktor has always been very idealistic and laser-focused on achieving things. He's quick to dismiss people who are, in his vision, just wasting his goddamn time. (See the way he calls league Jayce 'flamboyant and arrogant,' and makes little of their friendship after they break up - that's the average piltover citizen description in his POV imo)

Personally I'm really fond of the way s1 depicts the jayvik meeting as both of them being really aggrieved at each other, viktor for safety reasons and jayce because he thinks this guy wants to ruin his life, only for that whole dynamic to disappear the INSTANT viktor hears jayce describe his dream and how he was trying to achieve something that would improve lives at large. That's his entire thing. That's the line of thinking he's been silently mulling to himself all his life and finally, he hears an echo. Someone talks back.

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kisses against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work .”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (03)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content sexual jokes, rafe being a sweetheart( & an idiot) !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 02 ¡ 03 ¡ 04

The past week was beyond perfect, you knew something bad was occuring, whether you liked it or not. Unlike what you had in mind, the trip was fun, with you and Sarah attached at the hip, doing everything you missed out on for the past two years.

You partied a decent amount, had a lot of dates and dinners, with Rafe and Ryan third wheeling, of course. And that's besides the beach errands you ran at least twice a day. However, that all came crashing down when you got your period, falling into a state of apathy the moment you discovered you were on it. 

It was bearable at first, you still hung out with the rest, sunbathing while they surfed, sat to the side when they cooked, but your cramps had other plans, ruining your day when you no longer could tolerate the pain, leading to no good. You locked yourself in your room, isolating yourself from everyone else, immediately brushing off their attempts to allure you out.

It was that bad, even Sarah chose to keep her distance, giving you space, fully aware of your mood swings when it came to dealing with your period cramps. The blonde did everything in her power to keep you comfortable, only reaching out to you when it was necessary, and to that, you were grateful, because Ryan on the other hand, was behaving like a total bitch. 

And well, Rafe was sweet. He was clueless, yet, he knew you were feeling under the weather, offering to take over your tasks when Rysn forced you to do chores. You had to keep reminiscing over the fact that this was a mere joke, and that he’s off limits, hence he’s your brother’s best friend. 

But how could you? Rafe was an angel, everything you looked for in a guy, and while it’s only been a bit over a week since you’ve met him, the subtle gazes you exchanged did nothing but create a giddy mess out of you. 

You forced yourself out of bed, body drenched with sweat due to the thick hoodie hugging your figure. You approached the bathroom, with the intent of freshening up, eternally grateful it was connected to your room. 

With a groan, you reached for the wood cabinets, unlatching them with a swift movement. You reached for the container of spare pads you had brought, heart sinking to your stomach when nothing came within your reach, indicating you were out. That only added to your pent up frustration, letting out a cry as you tossed the box in the trash. 

Those were supposed to last you a week, yet, here you were, out on the second day of your period. Usually, your cycle wasn’t on the heavy side, that it completely went past your mind to bring more, just in case it was one of those days. 

Your parents were nowhere in sight when you called out for them, implying that they weren’t home. You had no choice but to reach out to Ryan, contemplating whether it was a good idea with how whiny he was, a good chance he’ll probably refuse.

Therefore, it was no surprise when you knocked and called out his name, receiving no response in return. You rolled your eyes, erupting through the door, instantly regretting the gesture as you came to a halt, spotting none other than Rafe on Ryan’s bed, with your brother nowhere in sight. 

Rafe was accompanied with his phone, laying flat on his chest, his bare back glowing under the sunlight peeking through the window blinds. You grew flustered to the sight, forcing your eyes away from the latter when he perked up, conscious of your presence mere inches away.

A low hum bubbled out of Rafe’s throat, stretching his arms over his head as he tossed his phone to the side, now facing in your direction. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile, seeking his shirt with his gaze, not wanting to put you in an awkward situation with the state he was in. 

Right, he was shirtless, it was rude of you to come in without knocking, especially now, as your gaze burned holes through his skin, too hazed to pull your eyes away from his broad torso. How could you, when his chest was out on display, the view inviting, so there, it left you no choice but to stare?

“Sorry,” you muttered through a breath, clenching the hem of your hoodie in between your fingers. “I didn’t know you’d be in here, I thought Ryan was ignorin’ me.” 

“It’s okay,” Rafe reassured, throwing his shirt over his head. “Ryan’s not here, he’s been gone since this morning.” 

“Right,” you nodded, his absence skipping over your head. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Do you need anything?” Rafe interrupted your plan of exiting, causing your hand to halt around the doorknob. 

“It’s nothing,” you brushed off his concerns with a polite smile, “Jus’ wanted to grab a few things, since the fridge is empty.” 

“Okay,” Rafe shot back, springing out of his seat. “Let’s go.” 

“Wait, what?” Your eyes slightly widened, taken aback by his suggestion. 

“Do you not want to go?” He playfully poked back, strolling past you, your eyes following his figure, landing where he stood against the railing. “I’ll take you.” 

“You don’t have to!” You instantly refused, hands waving in front of your chest. “I’ll just wait until he’s back, it’s no big deal–”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Rafe chimed back, his footsteps echoing through your ears, observing as he walked down the stairs. He looked over his shoulder, merely to glimpse in your direction. “I’ll wait for you downstairs, come down when you’re ready.” 

Rafe left you no choice but to do as he said, throwing on a decent outfit before heading downstaits, and making your way outside. The latter already had the engine started, his door slightly open, with the hum of the radio playing in the background. He perked up when you approached the car, tossing his phone in the cup holder. Rafe watched as you got in, quickly clicking your seatbelt on, so you don’t delay your leave any longer. 

The drive to the grocery store stretched with comfortable silence, atmosphere heavy with tension you both chose not to address, letting it seep through the whole ride. You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, exiting the car as soon as Rafe was parked. 

Rafe followed in your steps, attempting to catch up with you through the somewhat cramped space. It was a good grocery run, quick yet filled with chaos, as Rafe stacked the cart with unnecessary things that you knew would go unnoticed, only getting acknowledged once they’re past the due date. 

Despite your desperate need for pads; the whole purpose of this errand, your embarrassment took over everytime you circled around the aisle, eyeing it while you tried to come up with a good excuse for you to grab them, feighing the boy’s presence, who was growing suspicious because of how anxious you were. 

Rafe could only handle so much, halting when you hit your third round in the ‘hygiene care aisle’, the gesture earning a puzzled expression out of you. You turned in the boy’s direction, breath knocking out of your chest when you caught him observing the various type of pads displayed on the shelves.

“Which one do you want?” He questioned, hand landing on a random brand, one you’ve never heard of before. “This one?” ‘

He knew. The realization made your cheeks flush with heat, feeling it crawl past your neck, and settle across your face, your bewildered expression failing to hide your embarrassment. Usually, you were very vocal about your needs, you don’t get why it was hard to voice out what you wanted, especially in Rafe’s presence. 

Whether it’s you being nervous, or embarrassed, either way frustrated you, making you even more confused than you already were. 

“What?” You choked out, tensning from where you stood. 

“Do you not use that one?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. He clicked his teeth, observing each one, until he pointed at another brand. “How about this one? I heard it’s a good brand.”

“You heard?” You repeated, your voice filled with disbelief. “I– listen, Rafe, I don’t need them, let’s jus’ leave.” 

“Who are you fooling here?” He scoffed, slightly teasing with his tone. “You clearly need them, this is the third time we’ve come through this section, it can’t be for no reason.”

You hated that he was right, his statement making you even more flustered, creating a mess out of you in front of him. You cleared your throat, striving to come up with an excuse that will get you out of this situation, merely to result with nothing in return. 

“It’s not for me,” shit, “Sarah said she needed pads, it’s not something I could bring up, since you insisted on tagging along.”

“Mhm,” Rafe hummed, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, not convinced by your explanation. “Now tell me, which one do you use?” 

“I’m serious!” You exclaimed, abashed by his teasing. 

“Sorry, I mean, which one does Sarah use?” He corrected, chest swelling with pride with his words were getting to you, affecting you whole as you stumbled to mutter a coherent sentence out. “Now hurry, we don’t have all day.” 

“Oh, shush.” You rolled your eyes, suppressing the smile forming on your lips. “Don’t rush me.”

You paused for a second, snorting when you noticed him reaching for his phone, for the mere purpose of searching the brand he has in hand, his curiosity getting the best of him. You snatched it from his hold, placing it back on the shelf, the action earning a puzzled look out of the boy. 

“What was that for?” He started, voice so soft, that you almost felt guilty for interfering. 

“It’s not a good brand,” you reasoned, reaching for the one you always used. “This one is, though.” 

“Yeah?” Rafe questioned, his lips smudging with a cocky grin. “Does Sarah use it?” 

“She does,” you choked out, tossing the box of pads in the cart, completely avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “Let’s leave before it gets dark outside.” 

Rafe made sure to grab a few more boxes from the brand you had chosen, throwing them in the cart along with the other stuff you brought. You both stood in line, having gotten everything you wanted, merely needing to check out, and then you’d be ready to go.

There wasn’t plenty of people in front of you, relieved once you eventually reached your turn. Rafe was kind enough to do all the heavy work, handing the stuff for the cashier to check them out, insisting you let him do it when you offered a helping hand. 

The lady assisting you grinned, catching sight of all the chocolate bars and essentials displayed in front of her, mind travelling elsewhere at the sight of you two. Rafe stood next to you once he was done, flashing the lady a polite smile, one she swiftly returned. 

“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” She started, her voice earning your attention, as well as Rafe’s, whose knuckles hovered over yours, the fraction sending shivers down your spine. “Taking care of your girlfriend while she’s ill; not a lot of men do that.”

Her words made you stop in your tracks, the assumptions causing your eyes to widen with shock. Your lips parted to speak, striving to correct the lady, action falling short when Rafe beat you to it, the words he mumbled next causing your breath to hitch. 

“Aren’t I the sweetest?” He cooed, slinging his arm around your shoulder, then applying enough pressure to bring you close to his chest, now fully tangled in his hold. “Isn’t that right, girlfriend?” 

“What the hell are you doing?” You whispered through gritted teeth, just loud enough for Rafe to hear you. 

He cocked his head to the side, flashing you a look that almost melted you in the spot, his attempt to get you to go along with the bit totally working, even if it was a low blow. You stiffened under his touch, turning back to the lady, who was admiring you two with so much endearment, you felt guilty confronting her about the situation. 

This is not something your brother’s best friend should do; pretend you’re his girlfriend out in public, well aware Ryan would be against it. Hell, if Ryan was there, Rafe would be knocked out on the floor, as you were painfully aware of how protective your brother truly was, especially when it came to his friends. 

You’ve had a few of his friends hit on you, and that, it didn’t end quite well, with him cutting them off the moment they crossed the line. You didn’t want that to happen with Rafe, knowing how much Ryan cherished their friendship. Therefore, you didn’t wanna come in between them, ruin the last ounce of hope Ryan was holding onto, even if your emotions got in the way. 

The sensation of Rafe’s arm sliding down your waist pulled you out of your head, tensing under the boy when his hand landed just above your hip, his breath fanning over the sliver of skin around your neck not being of much help. And when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did, with the latter leaning forward, and placing a chaste peck to your temple. 

His lips burned against your flesh, skin hot on yours, that the moment he withdrew from the touch, you felt the world stop around you, mind too hazy to comprehend the gesture. You stole a glance over your shoulder, instantly fixing your gaze back on the lady when you caught him already staring at you, not failing to hide the smug smile spread across his face. 

A sigh of relief escaped your throat when Rafe reached for his wallet, the action creating somewhat of a distance between you two, one you desperately seeked. He handed the lady his card, humming to himself as he punched in his code number, clicking his teeth when it went through, verifying he was done. 

“Have a great day.” The lady mumbled, handing Rafe the receipt, with the boy contently accepting it. 

“You too,” He forced a smile across his face, pausing before he continued his sentence. “She’s actually my sister, by the way.” 

The lady was taken aback by his response, pausing in her spot. She watched Rafe strolling away, turning back to you, as you were just as shocked as she was, frozen where you stood. 

“Let’s go, girlfriend.” He tugs your wrist, instantly interwhing your fingers with his. 

The walk to the car was silence, the warmness of Rafe’s hand radiating heat through your flesh, the sensation accompanying your head, along with what just happened, the situation shocking you to your core. You felt guilty for the butterflies seeping through your stomach, aware that Rafe was messing around, and that this was nothing you should contemplate about, as he was nothing more than your brother’s best friend. 

Rafe let go of your hand, walking around the car, and opening the trunk to throw the stuff inside. He handled them with ease, putting the cart back in the parking area, making sure to be quick with his action. By the time he was back, you were already inside the car, holding back until he took your side to speak. 

“What the fuck was that?” You muttered, watching as Rafe started the car, attention fixing on the rearview mirror while he drove out of the parking lot, the hand stretching out to the passenger seat doing things to you. 

“What?” He chuckled, manspreading as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position. 

“First, you pretend I’m your girlfriend,” you frowned, a look of disbelief displayed on your face. “Then you proceed to tell her I’m your sister?!”

“C’mon,” he stifled out a laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “You have to admit, it was funny.” 

“It wasn’t!” You snorted, rolling your eyes as you relaxed back in your seat, focusing your attention on the road.

“It replaced the frown on your face,” he reasoned, “You can’t tell me it didn’t work.” 

That was alone to have you melting, shutting you up right in the spot. The next few minutes filled with silence, background music echoing through your ears as you leaned your head against the window, enjoying the ride back with the dim darkness seeping through. 

And you were so close to falling asleep, your plan going interrupted when Rafe approached the Airnbnb, parking the car in the drive through once you were there. You sat up, an exhausted sigh bubbling out of your throat as you stretched your arms over your head. 

Rafe grabbed the bags from the trunk, catching up with you once he retrieved everything. You swiftly unlocked the door for him, the gesture earning a grateful smile out of the boy. 

“Did you have fun, girlfriend?” Rafe teased, head turning in your direction. 

“Oh my god, shut up!” Your pupils dilated with disbelief, taken aback by his question. “Can you not? What if someone hears you?” 

“Hear what?” 

A familiar voice erupted through your ears, causing you to freeze in your spot. You leisurely turned in the noise’s direction, immediately catching sight of Ryan, who was seated around the table, with food splattered in front of him. 

Your throat instantly ran dry, caught off guard by your brother’s presence, mere inches away from where you stood. Your gaze shifted to Rafe as he came in view, walking past you to approach Ryan. 

He put the bags on the counter, dabbing Ryan up before he made himself comfortable next to the latter. Ryan whined with complaints, grumbling when Rafe stole a fry from his plate, protesting to the latter eating his food. 

“Guess what,” Rafe muffled, swallowing down the food in his mouth. He pointed in your direction, Ryan’s gaze following his finger, until it landed on you. “I took my girlfriend grocery shopping.” 

Ryan almost choked on the food he stuffed in his mouth, swiftly turning his head in Rafe’s direction, nearly breaking his neck with the gesture. His eyebrows furrowed with annoyance, growing irritated by the smug expression spread across his best friend’s face. 

As for you, you were just as shocked as Ryan was, not expecting Rafe to mention the situation so casually, not in front of Ryan, that’s for sure. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ryan barely managed to speak. 

“What?” Rafe tilted his head to the side, gaze shifting back to you. “She’s my girl.” 

“Fuck off, Rafe.” Ryan defensively shot back, “Are you fucking messing with me?” 

“He is,” you beat Rafe to responding, afraid something might break out if the latter continued teasing your brother any further. “The lady assumed he was my boyfriend, and he will not shut up about it.” 

That earns a giggle out of Rafe, far too amused to acknowledge the fuming boy from beside him, slightly less mad at the explanation you offered him.

They spent the next few minutes bickering, with you technically third wheeling on the side. Rolling your eyes, you took your leave, making sure to grab the bag of pads before you strolled up the stairs, with the intentions of approaching Sarah’s room. 

Fortunately, her door was slightly ajjared, the sight of Sarah sprawled across the bed filling the majority of your view. You knocked on the door, peaking your head through to earn the girl’s attention, successfully doing so as she glanced over, gasping when she spotted you. 

“Bug!” She chimed, her excitement a silent invitation for you to enter. 

“Hi,” you flashed  her a smile, instantly embracing the girl in a hug once she was within your reach. “I missed you.” 

“Me too,” she muttered, face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Where were you?! ‘Haven’t seen you all day.”

“I went grocery shopping with Rafe.” You casually responded, your answer earning a scuff out of Sarah. 

“I knew it!” She pulled back, rolling her eyes with a hint of annoyance. “Is that why you both randomly disappeared?” 

“I guess,” you pursed your lips into a thin line, suppressing the smile forming on your lips. “It was an emergency, he insisted on taking me, though I was planning on going with Ryan.” 

Sarah nodded with understandment, eyes trailing to the bag in your hand, instantly catching on to what you meant. 

“I did lie, though.” You confessed, nose scrunching with shame. 

“About what?” Sarah chuckled, perking with interest. 

“I said they were for you,” your eyes forced shut, “I’m sorry, okay? He put me in the spot, that was the only thing I could come up with!” 

“No, that’s–” Sarah’s sentence was interrupted by the burst of giggles erupting out of her throat, unable to contain her laughter for any longer. “That’s totally valid.”

“Why are you laughing, then?!” You chimed in on her laughter, lightly slapping her shoulder. 

“I’m telling you Bug,” Sarah started, suppressing her chuckles. “He’s not buying that.” 

“You’re making it worse!” You groaned into your hands, falling back on her bed, now faced with the ceiling. “I can’t even face him, you should see the stunt he pulled on me in the store.” 

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good…” she trailed off, waiting for you to continue. 

“Well, we were checking out, then this cashier said he was a gentleman, blah blah blah, she assumed I was his girlfriend, and he sort of went along with it?” You explained, face flushing with heat as you reminisced back on the memory, recalling the feeling of his lips brushing over your temple. “He was acting like an idiot, going all ‘aren’t I the sweetest, girlfriend?’ The lady totally believed it! And guess what, Sarah?!”

“What?!” Sarah almost gasped, curiosity getting the best of her. 

“He fucking kissed me!”

At that, an audible gasp escaped Sarah’s throat, shock displaying across her face as her hand came up to cover her parted mouth. 

“No fucking way!” She whisper-yelled, repeatedly slapping your arm with excitement. “Was it on like– you know–”

“No!” You clarified, growing flustered due to her assumption. “He kissed my temple, barely even a kiss, but it still happened.”

“You know, I was so invested, I forgot he was my brother.” Sarah mumbled, her statement easing the awkward tension seeping through. “That’s crazy– I mean, not to be weird or anything, but Rafe’s never this touchy with anyone, he sucks at showing affection, especially in public.” 

“Don’t say that,” you started, feeling your pulse quicken over her words. “I’m barely holding back as is.” 

“Shut up!” Sarah scoffed, “But I’m serious, I’ve received a lot of complaints from his past girlfriends about that, I’m surprised he’d pull something like this, with you, of all people.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be against this?!” You rolled your eyes, covering how flustered you were with fake annoyance. “Why are you encouraging it?”

“I mean, it’s not like I can stop you two from liking each other,” she cocked her head to the side, voice tinted with hope. “Besides, I’ll be happy with any decision that you make, as long as you don’t get hurt, of course!” 

“Sarah,” your lips formed into a pout, not expecting her supportive words, though they drove you over the edge, with the forming crush sparkling through your heart. “Stop, why are you so sweet?” 

“Oh, come on, I've always been sweet to you.” She cooed, cupping your face with her hands. “Now stop acting sappy, and go freshen up so we can watch a movie.” 

“Fine!” You mumbled, chuckling when Sarah pecked your forehead, the sensation like feathers on your skin. “That tickles!” 

“It’s a goodbye’s kiss!” She exclaimed, joining in on your giggles. “I know you’ll take long to shower.”

“I’ll be fast.” You replied, getting up from Sarah’s bed, the gesture earning groans of protest from the girl. 

You barely managed to escape Sarah’s grip, walking back to your room. A hint of confusion washed over your voice, noticing the way your door cracked half way through, when you could’ve sworn you shut it before you left. 

The frown on your face was instantly replaced with a smile as you caught sight of the snacks spread across your bed, along with a heating pad on the side, the familiar chocolate bars unveiling the identity of the person who sprawled these out for you. 

Your eyebrows curled at the sight of the cyan pink sticky note just above the heating pad, growing intrigued as you reached out to grab it, the smile on your face spreading into a foolish grin once you read what was written on it. 

I know it’s not much, but I hope you feel better, girlfriend ;) - r

Your heart skipped a beat at the note, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it settled on your face. It wouldn't hurt to thank him for this, right? It’s not like you were making a move on him, your action a mere return for his act of kindness, nothing more. 

So you did, slightly hesitating as you exited your room, with the purpose of searching for Rafe. You followed the distant voice echoing through your ears, the sound growing louder the closer you approached the narrowed hallway. 

He must’ve been downstairs, along with Ryan, in the same position you left them in, probably still arguing over something absurd. The thought brought a smile to your lips, instantly fading once their words filled the echo of your ears. While you didn't mean to eavesdrop, you were somewhat glad that you did, Rafe’s next statement making your heart sink to your stomach, panic settling through your chest. 

“–Not! Relax Ryan,” Rafe argued, his voice slightly muffled. “I’m not gonna date your sister.” 

Oh. 

Oh.

“Don’t fuck with me, Rafe.” Ryan shot back, pent up frustration visible through his tone. “I told you already, my sister is off limits, don’t make me do something I’ll regret.” 

Rafe nodded, face twisting into something serious, replacing the teasing grin he had on his face. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he replied, “She’s like Sarah to me, and you know that.” 

Humilation couldn’t describe how you felt in the moment, his statement like a punch to your stomach. A wave of emotions rushed through your insides, ones you couldn’t even concentrate into words. 

That should’ve been expected, however, it hurt hearing it out loud, from Rafe of all people. 

a/n hi!! i hope you enjoyed it heheeh i promise i have soething planned out theyre not going too fast (taglist officially closed!!)

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy

[acti-veg]

You also need to start seeing farmed animals as the sentient beings that they are. You need to recognise that they have personalities, that they play, love, make friends and feel scared when we pack them off to slaughter. You’ll begin to realise that the notion that some lives matter less than others is the root of all that is wrong with the world. You’ll experience peace with your own choices and a deeper connection with nature, knowing that you are no longer paying for these animals to suffer in service of your interests.

you guys Need to start seeing bugs as animals im not even joking anymore. the second u start seeing them as tiny animals the more your world opens up and the more you accept different types of life Into that world. youll begin accepting that even life you cant understand is still worth living. and itll legitimately make you a better person. fuck

[beloveds-embrace]

Can we get that dark version of graves 💀. Sorry no hate to him but I like how this men operates lowkey like mafia in the dukedom au. Also is Konig still her personal guard in the regular au?

In the regular au, no, I don’t have König for her in there lol fyi i wrote this while spaced out during a lecture im sorry if it sounds rushed lol 😭

Referenced post

As for Graves: god, he is so smug. So, so smug, arrogance and pride growing each second he spends with you and over you. It shows in his gait when he walks, when he begins lording over the other servants and staff, when he begins latching to you, joining you on your free time when he checks beforehand that no one else is there with you. All of this even before you tell John your request.

After you do, and after you insist you really do want Graves, he becomes almost like a blown up balloon. He wants to monopolize all your time, all your interactions, and why would you say no when he gives you the love and affection you long for?

You don’t say no; but the same can’t be said for them.

It doesn’t matter if Graves truly loves you back. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love you and only wants to desperately hold on to his one chance of rising in society. Nothing about Graves really matters to them except how to break his connection to you.

Graves thinks that the reason the rest of the staff slowly begin to distance themselves from him, ill-mannered towards him in general, is out of jealousy due to his closeness to you. He thinks that the reason John adds more stable hands is because you want to have others help him and who he can lord over. He thinks the reason bland and spoiled food he gets is because the cook is jealous of him, as well. Who wouldn’t be, knowing it’s only him who has your affection?

He thinks everything is done for him, due to you. It makes him latch all the more to you, and you love it even if you sometimes look confused by it.

When you send him a letter, askinh to meet him privately late at night in the woods behind the duchy, it’s the first time he’s considered saying no to you. But as it is, Graves thinks you are a spoiled thing, born with a silver spoon, and he doesn’t want to spoil his standing with you. The woods behind the duchy are a bit… unconventional. He’s heard rumors of servants sometimes dying in there, a long time ago, but there was no solid evidence of it ever.

Whatever it is, he can deal with it. His confidence builds when Kyle greets him formally, a little smile on his lips compared to the previous days. The food he’s presented with is delicious and warm, and Duke Riley even gives him a nod when passing by him. He gets called into John’s office to talk about a payrise, as well.

Everything’s well. Going into the woods, therefore, shouldn’t be a problem.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

Stumbling through the dark woods in question, cradling his bleeding leg, Graves begins to realize that he’s made a horrific misjudgment.

Why would you, of all people, want to meet here? You, soft and delicate? You, who has never known what it feels like to have a single scratch on your body?

This place isn’t meant for you. You wouldn’t even consider this place.

You didn’t send him that letter.

And Graves is realizing it just now.

He lets out another pained shout when his foot catches onto a bear trap, falling forward. Hands and knees scratched, blood pooling under him, and covered with the dark canopy of the night sky with nothing to guide him except the dim light of the stars, Graves has never felt more hopeless.

The snapping of dead twigs and leaves, loud in the suffocating silence of the woods, makes his twist his neck to see-

Beasts. Snarling, deep dark beasts, gaping maws and rows of twisted, sharp teeth. They laugh and bark, snapping at him and there is nothing he can do to struggle back because the damned trap is still holding him down.

Behind those beasts, there is a figure. The eyes that peer at him in hatred are familiar, but Graves cannot recall their owner at this moment. Tall, blond hair, at the manor ever so often-

“You should not have touched what doesn’t belong to you, Graves.”

He is not granted enough time to think about how familiar the voice is.

And so, on a dark January night, Philip Graves disappears.

“Still no sign?” You ask, twisting your handkerchief between your hands again. Your days have been hard, lately, and grow harder the longer your lover remains missing. Though you aren’t even sure if he is truly missing. If he was, then how come the rest of the servants all said that they couldn’t find any of his personal belongings?

He had seemed so happy with you… you don’t understand.

“I’m afraid not,” Simon tells you softly, coming to stand beside you. He holds a hand out for you, and despite knowing it wouldn’t be proper, you do not stop him from drawing you into a hug. “The dogs didn’t find any traces of him, either.”

Your eyes move over to the two dogs curled on their respective pillows, one napping and the other chewing on a bone. You loved them; they were all over you the second Simon had brought them to you, rolling over to get stomach rubs from you. They provided a temporary retrieve from your dark and depressing thoughts, just simply holding them making you feel better.

“They are good hunters.” Simon had told you, his knuckles gently wiping away your tears. “If he is anywhere lost nearby, they will find him.”

But now, there wasn’t a trace of him. You hated to admit it, but perhaps Philip’s leave might have been his own choice…

“Do not cry.” Simon whispers softly when he hears you sniffling, arms warm around you. You melt against him, just clinging to this comfort. “John will still search, but you still have all of us to help you get through this, sweetheart.”

Get through this, and get over Graves. The rest of the staff all agreed that he wasn’t good for you, anyways, and the dogs had their fun.

And Simon now gets to hold and comfort you, after he’s already had quality time with the rest of his beloveds.

Your tears will dry, eventually, and your heart will open up again.

[theveil-and-thepath]

Mini PAC n°1 - What will happen until the end of the week?

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

You can pick more than one! Just follow your heart!

This is my first time fully using Lenormand cards, let's see how it goes.

*This is a source of entertainment, your destiny is in your hands.*

Pile 1

Wip, star, bouquet, mice, crossroad. Dog, fox, snake. Heart, birds, bear. Birds, garden, snake.

You'll suddenly accomplish something that you greatly desire, but in order for this to happen you'll need to defend your position and status and not let other people bring you down.

This thing you accomplish will have the double effect of solving some of your problems and concerns, and it might make some discontent people who steal your energy leave your life.

You'll interact with several people who are your seniors or more experienced than you. Only one has your true interest at heart, but all three are smart and will teach you new things about how to behave.

You may hear positive gossip about you. Some will say you have more money or are more important than you see yourself.

You may feel, or hear the promise of, the support of a powerful friend.

Keep an eye open in the places you go to this week. You can have fun at a party or event, but some will envy how you look.

Your spiritual protection practices are working, you'll see how you're more resitant to evil eye now.

Pile 2

Anchor, bear, book, heart, cross. Wip, letter, mountain. Coffin, mountain, tower. Snake, wip, ring.

Some of you will meet the love of your life, your counterpart. Maybe it's a new friend. Regardless, it's a fated encounter with someone who's as or more mature than you, stable in life, very smart/went to a good school, this person knows when to shut up and when to talk; try not to get a wrong first impression of them because theyll like you more than they'll convey. Your guides are planning your encounter.

You may start to study something new that you've been meaning to for a while.You may have an insight or receive a tarot reading (can be on youtube) that will help explain your recent love problems.

If you think of an ex this week, it's so that you see it all in a new light and move on, or to remind you how to avoid the same undesired result.

You may receive an email postponing an event or listing extra requirements you need to meet to accomplish a goal of yours.

You need to rest and sleep well before a big day.

Beware of double faced people offering you things too good to be true, perhaps they want you close to them so they can ruin your life more easily.

Be smart against those who are cunning and trying to get rid of you because they see you as competition.

Pile 3

Man, book, rider, lily, woman. Fox, anchor, child. Dog, bear, tree. Tower, heart, anchor.

A relationship you already have may progress this week and this person may reveal positive feelings that they've kept hidden. You may feel that one of your connections originated in past lives.

A good week for school and learning.

To start a new venture, you need to be smart not work hard. You may take a significant step to solidify a new project of yours.

You have great friends and family. This week you'll express your gratitude to the universe for having them. You may even receive help from old friends.

Old relationships become stronger.

This week you'll see how much support you have around you, you'll also be proud of how far you've come and how solid it's the life you've built.

Pile 4

Letter,sun, heart,bouquet, scythe. Tree, mice, wip. Anchor, sun,bouquet. Key, woman,clover.

What a bright and blessed week of reaping your rewards. Someone will compliment your work, give you amazing feedback, may say they want to keep in touch for future endeavors or ask for your number so they can call you on a date.

All the good things you desire? This week you can be so close to them it's just up to you to pick it up and take it for your life.

You receive the yes, the answer you wanted to get.

Your crush will text you, or your partner may ask you out.

If you're in a relationship, texting can turn into sexting, or you'll receive a kiss or offer for a sexy night out of a sudden.

You'll get rid of energy vampires or bad habits that have been draining your energy and slowing you down.

You'll cut off junk food or reject a specific food or drink for the sake of your health.

You may go to the doctor or start a health treatment.

This week feels so good, that some of you will get married or become engaged. May start dating too.

You'll feel your spirit guides close and showing you good things about your future.

You reach the jackpot. Somehow you'll know what you'll have to do so you level up big time.

You may receive the opportunity of a lifetime. Big thing!!! Receive it.

You're so smart and capable that people can't help but admire you.

This week you'll know that you can do it!

[missolaris]

Ok seeing this post reblogged by this person makes me feel guilty and realize I never really got to say anything, so I'm gonna make a huge confession that's honestly kinda embarrassing, but I feel it's right.

Ever since around 7th or 8th grade I've been reading this set of two fics by the person I reblogged from over and over to the point where when I was in 8th grade English instead of reading actual books I brought an e-reader that connected to the internet and just read those fics. I've introduced it to my sister at some point, and i still remember her joke about "ignition socks" that was taken directly from this fic.

Even years later, I still revisit those two fics, and recently showed to a friend who loves FMA. However because of complicated reasons, I'm now recording the fic as a pseudo-audio book for her to listen to. Currently I've recorded up to chapter 5 of the first part, and I've committed myself to do a couple chapters a week. Btw my friend says he loves the fic.

I literally cannot publish the "audiobook" online because this is technically just a private recording and I don't want to deal with issues like copyright or author privacy or other issues like that. However, I am still going to finish all 101 collective chapters between the two fics.

So... thanks Strawbebeh (aka. ArtDirector123) for writing this fic.

(If anyone else want to read them, the fics are linked below)

current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

good luck to you, reader ✨

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 ⟢

“Telepathy” by BTS “Not My Nigga” by KenTheMan “Sparks Will Fly” by J. Cole (feat. Jhene Aiko)

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 ⟢⟢

The Wheel of Fortune ⤸, Seven of Coins ⤸, Page of Wands, Six of Coins, Justice ⤸, Queen of Coins, King of Coins ⤸, Queen of Cups

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟢⟢

Those connected to pile one could find it hard to connect with others because it could feel as if no matter how hard you try you always end up being “let down”. You might be described as what’s called a “late bloomer” when it comes to things related to socialization. Some of you may have experienced literal delays in development in that you may have had a speech impediment or been nonverbal for a length of time, but clothes of you - the vast majority of you - may have just felt like you were delayed when it came to figuring out how to make friends or how to start dating. You might’ve tried your hardest to do so the way you knew how, but it’s like somehow for some reason nothing ever took off, and you never felt like you had the type of relationships “depicted in the movies”. 

There’s a strong need to acknowledge that those connected to this pile did (and do) try their hardest when it comes to trying to form connections. You had a period of time (or you may still be in that time) where your mindset was to try to be as excited about making friends and forming relationships as possible. You might’ve gone into things with an open heart ready to show everyone how good of a friend you can be and how willing you are to discuss things with people and to give of yourself not only emotionally but also materially for some of you, but in being so excited (and in some instances blindly naïve) it’s like only wolves saw your want for friendship and, in turn, took advantage of that excitement only to leave you feeling worse off than you did before. 

It’s hard for you to connect with others because prior experiences have left you feeling as if everytime you even try to develop them it just ends with you being burned in the end. There’s a call for you to “keep going” and to “keep trying” even if it feels futile right now, but there’s also a call to analyze the people coming to you for friendship before accepting it. Continue approaching friendships with that excitement and want to help others as they help you, but maybe focus more on the emotional side of things as opposed to the material or even the visual. “Movies aren’t all what they’re cracked up to be” comes to mind. There’s a call to not over invest in others at the expense of yourself or in hopes of drawing people to you but to instead allow your own light and personality to shine as a way to bring true friends in. Cher Lloyd’s “Love Me for Me” comes to mind, so it could be important to listen to. 

Overall, there’s a call for you to transition from being the Queen of Coins to being the Queen of Cups. You can’t heal and invest into everyone and bring about true friendships and relationships trying to appeal to people’s senses and material drive; you have to appeal emotionally by showing who you are as a person even without “all the things money could buy”. There’s a call for you to remain open to reaching out and trying to approach people to create connections and to not fall for cutting yourself off because “there’s no point anyways” because there is a point – to allow yourself to have these emotional connections to others to improve (and prove) a part of your humanity. Humans are social creatures, and you deserve to have that pull for social interaction fulfilled.

𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⟢

11:11, “blowing bubble gum hearts”, heart shaped lollipops, glass tuning fork, the little mermaid, ring boxes, frilly pink and purple jewelry boxes, clams/oysters, tiffany blue, radishes, “glass half full”

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 ⟢

“Pretty Girl Rock” by Keri Hilson “Nightmares” by The Boyz “Harder to Breathe” by Maroon 5

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 ⟢⟢

Ten of Swords, King of Swords, Knight of Coins, Two of Coins, Seven of Swords, Four of Cups, The Sun, The Tower

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟢⟢

Those of pile two may have recently cut off a group of friends or “people” and could be feeling hurt by it. It could be that you knew it was for the right reasons, but “that didn’t make it any less hard to do”. The idea of a “beautiful tragedy” comes to mind when it comes to how you connect with others; some of you could be prone to “trauma bonding” where you end up in relationships with those who abuse you or treat you terribly. The idea that you “know better” or “know that [you] deserve better” also comes to mind, but it could feel as if you just keep slipping into these kinds of connections. You could be currently trying to figure out how to keep this cycle from continuing. You could be prone to getting into “nightmarish” relationships with people. You could find it hard to connect with people because of these past experiences. 

Those in this pile could currently be transitioning to a mindset where you believe it’s easier to stay away from connection (specifically friend groups) because every time you just end up “losing [your] mind” or “[your] sanity”. You could be trying to be more rational or attach to people who are similar in education and ways of thinking instead of connecting to people emotionally. With that, it doesn’t seem that you’re keeping away form connections completely, but you’re approaching them slowly and with caution and as a result your issue could actually be that you find it hard to figure out how to “feel safe enough” to move forward in connections past just thinking alike or thinking the connection makes sense to form. It could also be that you’re trying to figure out how to prioritize yourself in connections because you’re realizing you can’t keep hurting yourself or “setting yourself on fire” in an attempt to help others. 

Ultimately, this pile struggles with having connections with people as a result of always being the “butt of the joke” or being the target of bullying and other forms of abuse. You may have been lied to and told that you’re “boring” or “uninteresting”; some of you could’ve been in a Mean Girls or Heathers type friend group where you were always left out or planned against. With The Sun’s presence it’s important to note that you’re none of the things people told you that you were; you’re not boring or uninteresting or “too quiet” or anything like that. You are worthy of having connections just like everyone else wants, and the advice for this pile seems to be to not close yourself off as a result of bad experiences, but instead to strategize on how to approach them differently in a way that still keeps you feeling safe and protected. 

I said earlier that those who chose this pile may still be trying to form new connections, but they’re focusing more on intellectual things they have in common with others as opposed to emotional ways they connect. There’s advice to slowly but surely open up emotionally in your attempt to form new connections. “Show who you really are” and “This Is Me” from Camp Rock comes to mind. The first step in having better relationships comes from the realization you’ve had recently and the walk away from former bad groups; “it can only go up from here”. You very likely are on the right path in your new approach. It's just that “little modifications” are needed, so you can express your true self “in all its glory” and not just intellectually.

𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⟢

the number 3 and 5, coconut bras, broccoli, carrots, heart shaped ring boxes, donald/daffy/daisy duck, win, when, wen, hourglasses, butterflies, rainbows

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 ⟢

“The Way You Make Me Feel” by Michael Jackson “Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)” by Mika  “Finesse (Remix)” by Bruno Mars (feat. Cardi B)

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 ⟢⟢

Queen of Swords, The Lovers, Nine of Coins, Ten of Cups, Ten of Coins ⤸, The Star, Page of Cups, Knight of Cups, The Magician

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟢⟢

Those of pile three could be an outspoken bunch; at the very least, you are someone who stands on your own principles even if you stand alone. You could be seen as someone who is comfortable being alone or standing out solo although this doesn’t mean you have no friends at all. Queen of Swords in the deck being used is represented by Circe, the Greek goddess of illusion and necromancy, who is especially known for her tendency to turn men with bad intentions into swine. With this in mind, pile three may specifically be asking why they find it hard to connect with men - romantically and/or platonically. You could feel as if you get along with women just fine, but when it comes to men it’s like you know nothing or have no experience or you never find well intentioned men; the latter explanation is what will be most likely for most choosing this pile, and for those who have issues with developing connections with women also it could be that the attention you receive from men makes women view you a certain way that leaves them feeling “weary”. 

Although you may want to develop deep connections with people it could be that people see you as “too” high maintenance - even if you may not actually be. It could also be that people see you as someone who is on a pedestal, and as a result they get way more caught up in the idea of being in a relationship with you as opposed to actually caring about you as a person – as a human being. People could feel as if you’ve “got it made” and even believe you already have a hearty amount of people you’re friends with, so they could stay away as a result of self-doubting beliefs of “they already have a lot going on and they probably have a ton of friends, so why would they want to be friends with me?”. People could feel as if you’d be the type of person to flake on others easily because of how busy and “on your own” you are. It mainly seems to be that people’s assumptions of how you are cloud their want to actually approach you to see who you really are. 

With The Star’s presence, those of you who chose this pile are encouraged to stay hopeful when it comes to the idea of you developing relationships with others. Traditionally, The Star depicts a woman who is half in a body of water and half on land; she is shown to be nourishing the ground with the water, and you could be encouraged to be doing the same but instead of land it’s people. You could be called to make the first move when it comes to trying to develop connections. This may sound scary, but the quotes “you miss every shot you don’t take” and “the worst they can say is no” comes to mind. It is also the case that the more often you practice approaching people and talking to them, then the more confident you will become, and eventually you will develop the connections you have been looking for. Ultimately, this pile is being encouraged to take the steps to initiate the connections you want to have with others. “Stop waiting on others”.

𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⟢

333, hair in a high ponytail, the colors black, blue, pink, and green, ballet, black swan, white tutus, black pointe shoes, silver glitter, aphrodite, circe, gold, shells, swine/pigs, wicked

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 ⟢

“Top Down” by Leikeli47 “Cabinet Battle 3 (Demo)” from the Hamilton Mixtape “Stole the Show” by Kygo (feat. Parson James)

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 ⟢⟢

Page of Coins ⤸, Six of Swords, Two of Wands, Nine of Swords, Six of Wands, Eight of Coins ⤸, Judgment, Ace of Coins, Ten of Coins, Two of Swords, The Devil, Eight of Cups

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟢⟢

Those who chose this pile may feel unmotivated when it comes to figuring out how to create new connections and maintain old ones. You could have a tendency to just let friendships and other types of relationships just “fizzle out”. You may have someone you text with everyday, and then one week you miss a day; the next week you miss two days, and before the end of the month you haven’t replied to them at all and, therefore, you just don’t talk to that person anymore. When it comes to connections you could operate as the type of person who expects everyone else to reach out to you, but you rarely reach out to others. You could have a mindset of “if people care about me, then they’ll reach out, but if they don’t, then that’s fine too”. Although this mindset may work for you sometimes, it could also unconsciously aid in making you isolated. With Six of Swords and Two of Wands, you could also be someone who is always “on the run” or “on the go”; you could have a lot of things going on in your personal life that prevent you from putting effort into connections the way others expect or want you to. 

There’s a feeling that your prioritizations may be a little “out of whack” or “out of balance”. At this current moment in time you could be hyper focused on receiving recognition in some way. It’s like you want and crave to be seen and noticed; you want to receive a lot of accolades and awards, and you want to feel materially abundant – personally and in the eyes of others, but it’s like the way you’re executing wanting these things is “falling flat” or short of what you envision (or even what you could achieve). For example, you could be working multiple types of jobs; you go to school in the morning, and then you have an internship directly after in the afternoons, but you also have a retail job on the weekends, and you have an online side hustle. Technically, you’re in a lot of areas, and you may be working hard, but your solo focus on work and attention actually hinders you from being able to produce great work and making true connections. It’s like the idea of “having too many eggs in too many baskets”. Of course, a wide array of choices is needed, but you have too much to choose from that you can’t put your best work forward in any of them. There’s a call to think about gaining these things you want in a way that includes longevity; “you can’t only think of the present”. 

Advice for this pile would include cutting down on some of your obligations if possible, or at the very least finding a more sustainable way to do everything. Working to the point you have no time for yourself or others obviously can not create an environment where you’re able to have better connections with others. There’s a need to put in the same amount of effort you have for work and related opportunities into creating and maintaining connections. You have to figure out how to not pick up someone else’s shift at the expense of missing out on another outing with friends or how to ask for help on a project which would cut down the time you need to spend on it, so you can make time to go to a social outing instead of trying to do the whole project solo and becoming a type of hermit. Additionally, there’s a call to reach out to those you already have connections with more than you do right now. Connections are a two-way street, and “the phone works both ways” comes through. Overall, there’s a need to restructure your priorities if you want to have better connections with people.

𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⟢

666, (get) out, witch’s hat, witch’s brew, wicked, summer bag(s), striped bags, honey, baklava, sail, the bahamas, yellow and turquoise flags, money, triangles, overworking

[thenationofzaun]

Underneath the joke here, there is actually something compelling to be explored. The idea of "Jinx" being so notorious that she's mythologized. The myth being a hyper exaggeration of all her infamous traits, until it strays far from what the real Jinx is actually like. A spin on the whole "League of Legends" thing. The show did attempt to play into this theme with the openings. The way Season 1's opening depicts statues carved of stone, showing them as heroes and legendary figures, then Season 2's opening depicts them as human, stripped down to their underclothes. But the show could have done much more with this than a simple joke about an enforcer thinking the real criminal mastermind would never wear circus pants.

Imagine people telling stories of the dangerous criminal Jinx, but exaggerating certain details about her. Saying her nails are long and pointed as talons, her braids drag behind her on the ground, her teeth are sharp as a shark's, her bullets never miss, she is utterly without feeling or mercy, a spectre come to haunt and destroy Piltover. Imagine Piltovians viewing her as a horror story, and Zaunites viewing her as a dark hero, their vengeance against Piltover. Of course, the real Jinx likes painting her nails bright pink, let her father braid her pigtails, has a small tooth gap, misses her shots often, and feels way too much. The idea of both cities taking this girl and turning her into a legend, stripping away all her human qualities and projecting all their own fears and desires onto her is so interesting. Jinx, Piltover's ruin and Jinx, Zaun's revenge. Instead of Jinx the human.

Imagine Jayce meeting her. He never met her in the entire show's run which I feel is a missed opportunity. She was the catalyst of so much of his story in Season 1. It was her who broke into his lab, stole his gemstone and research. She defaced his entire lab, putting her grafitti and monkey symbols everywhere to taunt him. He spent the entirety of Season 1 worried sick that she would find a way to weaponize the gemstone. Her massacre of the enforcers on the bridge traumatized and sickened him. He demanded that she be locked up in exchange for Zaun's independence. I wonder how he imagines her? Does he picture a grown woman? Someone his age or older? Someone devoid of emotion or humanity? Imagine if he finally met her, this person who has caused him so much distress, and he sees an ill teenage girl. Baby fat on her cheeks and chipped nail polish.

Vi's story could have mirrored this too, losing her own identity while her sister sinks herself into her "Jinx" persona. Feeling abandoned and betrayed by Zaun, she rejects it and falls into Caitlyn's (Piltover's) arms. Becoming absorbed and assimilated into the city, losing connection to her real roots. Piltover taking advantage of her strength and exploiting it against Zaun. Turning her into their weapon, one of their enforcers. Using her as a diversity hire, the token trencher to prove how kind and not at all oppressive the enforcers are. Vi losing her own humanity as she makes The Piltover Enforcer her new identity and lets herself be engulfed by it, the way her sister does with her Jinx identity. Both cities taking these sisters and turning them into symbols. The sisters being dehumanized but letting it happen because they feel they have no other path or that they deserve it. But underneath Jinx and Piltover's Enforcer, are two broken young women.

[arc-misadventures]

Morning. For the Friends Au it appears that Winter is trying to reach out to Jaune... and maybe he sees it and it's confusing him as to why.

Does her each out to Saphron and Terra, and seek their advice?

On a side note, great series. Looking to further posts as you have time.

Specialist J.A.

Winter: Specialist Jaune Arc. It has a nice ring to it. Don't you agree?

Jaune: It has a bit of ring to it... But, it's not as special as you're making it sound.

Winter: You should be proud, Jaune: You're the youngest person to ever be accepted as a, Specialist, and the first person of none, Atlasian descent to become one. So, take pride in your accomplishments, Jaune.

Jaune: Okay, being the first none, Atlasian to join the, Specialist doesn't sound like that much of an achievement. But, am I really the youngest member?

Winter: Oh yes, I was twenty when I joined, most others, Specialist were around twenty one as well when they joined. You are nineteen years old; You are the youngest member to ever join the, Specialist!

Jaune: Wait really...? Wait, twenty? Does that mean you're around twenty three then?

Winter: Careful, Arc... You should know better than to ask a lady her age...

Jaune: I-I-I'm sorry! I've just been curious how old are!

Winter: And, why do wish to know that?

Jaune: I was just curious!

Winter: Curious...?

Jaune: Yeah. You have this ageless beauty about you, Winter. So, I've always been curious.

Winter: Ageless beauty...?

Winter: Ahem! So... So what do you think of your new uniform?

Winter changed the topic as she looked away from, Jaune hiding a faint blush threatening to spread across her face. Meanwhile, Jaune looked at his reflection taking in his new, Specialist uniform.

It wasn't what, Jaune had expected, but he loved it nonetheless. It was similar to the uniforms to the rest of the, Specialist work as in style.

Jaune's uniform was more of a long sleeve sweater than a dress shirt. A zipper ran up the middle of it to the high collar. A sleave that ran over zipper to connect to a series of buckle buttons on the side. The front was a vibrant white with red stripes running along the side. The rest was the vibrant deep blue that was commonly found on, Atlasian uniforms.

His blue denim jeans had been replace with black combat cargo pants, giving him extra pockets to store necessary supplies. His boots had also been chaged for more modern combat boots, rather than the surplus boots, Ruby tends to wear. He found the boots quite nice, there was space in the boots he could fit something like a knife in it, perhaps her should do something like that.

Jaune: I didn't expect the blue would fit me so well. I know the red, and white suit me. But, I was never sure of the blue.

Winter: The blue is quite fetching on you; it matches your eyes quite well.

Jaune: Really? T-Thanks...

Winter: Your welcome. So, how does your armour feel?

Jaune: Mmmm... It feels a little tight; I think I need to ask one of the armourers to readjust it for me.

Winter: I see... Well, you can ask the armourers to resize it for you, that shouldn't be a problem for them. In fact, they could forge you new armour if you want.

Jaune: New armour? I know my armour is pretty good as it is, but would I be able to get some of that, Paladin Armour plating if I asked?

Winter: Hmmm...?

Winter: That’s a possibility… You'll have to ask about it.

Jaune: Okay, I'll ask them to remake, Crocea Mors then... It's probably best if I ask for, General Ironwood’s permission first. I suspected considering the metal this is used for your, Paladins its restricted from personal use.

Winter: While I'm not sure about that myself. But, I'm sure he'll agree to it, at least he may eventually let you do that. Once you prove your worth to, Atlas.

Jaune: That's fair. He's already upgraded my gear as is. It feels a little greedy of me to ask for another upgrade.

Winter: So, everything alright with your new uniform, Jaune?

Jaune: My armour is a little snug, but everything else is just fine. But, what's with this sash?

Jaune pulled out a deep rich crimson sash with a white snowflake pattern on the edge of it. Jaune looked at the beautiful needle work before staring at, Winter. She looked away as a small blush crossed her face.

Jaune: Winter?

Winter: I uhh... I got you a gift...

Jaune: A gift?

Winter: Yes, a gift to celebrate you're joining the, Specialist core. I would have gotten you something else, but I wasn't sure what... what you would like...

Jaune ran his thumb across the sash marveling on the smooth fabric, and the intricate detail woven into the snowflake.

His mind wondered at the red sash, he wore, Pyrrha's stash as a memento of her, the gold of his armour was also from her. He worse it keep her close to him. But, maybe...?

Winter: Do you... Do you like it, Jaune?

Jaune's mind was running until he saw a flash of red, and gold in his eyes, his eyes moved up to see the ghost of, Pyrrha looking at him. A smile spread across her face as she nodded her head, and gestured to the sash. Jaune's eyes darted to the crimson sash in his hands before looking back at, Pyrrha, and realizing she was gone.

Jaune smiled as his hands reached down, and grab the sash before wrapping it around his waist. Jaune looked down at the sash, then at it in his reflection. He nodded his head before turning to look at, Winter with a smile on his face.

Jaune: Thank you, Winter, it's beautiful.

Jaune hand pulled on the sash to move it so it ran parrel with his hip, while he was fiddling with it, Winter stepped forward, and readjusted it so it would look better.

Winter: Oh thank goodness... I was worried you wouldn't like it. I rarely get presents for my siblings, I've never gotten one for someone else so I was really... worried...

Winter's rambling was cut short as she finished adjusting, Jaune's sash before standing back up staring directly into, Jaune's cerulean blue eyes, their faces mere centimeters apart.

Jaune: I uhhh...

Winter: Y-Yes...?

Red slowly creeped across their faces before the game of chicken was called to the end as the both turned away,. Brushing away their blushes in the process.

Winter: S-So... did... Did you tell your teammates about you're appointment to the, Specialist's?

Jaune: Uhh... no.

Winter: Do you plan to?

Jaune: They'll find out eventually. Just like when I learned that they forgot to invite me to, Ruby's birthday party the other day.

Winter: What? They did, when?

Jaune: They texted me my invitation when I was about to talk to, General Ironwood about me becoming a, Specialist.

Winter: The message you said was from, 'no one important.'

Jaune: Yep, that one.

Winter: You don't see them as anyone important in your lives now do you?

Jaune: Just returning the favour...

Winter: I see. Well then... Specialist Arc!

Jaune: Sir!

Winter: Are you ready for your first mission as a, Specailst?

Jaune: Yes, Sir!

Winter: Good! You will follow me to the cafeteria where we, Specialist will be holding your initiation!

Jaune: Yes, Sir. May I ask what this incitation process will be, Sir?

Winter: Yes, to survive, Marrows cooking!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Eh?

Winter: The incitation is just a simple welcome party with food, drink, and cake that we, Specialist have. We're expected to each bring in our own food, hand crafted, or store bought. Marrow insists on bringing his family's chili recipe.

Winter: It taste terrible...

Jaune: Chili? Well... now I'm worried about the surviving bit... Should I bring something?

Winter: If you want to, but you're the guest of honour you don't have to.

Jaune: Why don't I cook something edible then. Something we can all enjoy.

Winter: You can cook?

Jaune: Seven sisters, and not a chef among the lot of them.

Winter: Well then, I'm looking forward to whatever it is you plan to make.

Jaune: When is the party?

Winter: This evening around six.

Jaune: That give me... five hours. I can whip up something nice by then. I best get to it. But, I'm going to change first. Don't want flour on my new uniform now.

Winter: I'll see you later then.

Jaune: till later then.

Winter soon made her way to the exit as, Jaune started unbuckling his armour. As the door opened, Winter stopped to say one last thing to, Jaune.

Winter: Oh, and Jaune...?

Jaune: Yes?

Winter: You... You don't need to call me, Sir, or Specialist Schnee... Just call me, Winter, okay?

Jaune: Okay... Winter...

Winter: Thank you~!

Winter smiled a sweet smile as she left, leaving, Jaune behind dumbfounded as he nervously swallowed.

Jaune: Shit...

Jaune: She does like me...

[xclowniex]

I saw this video of a lady on TikTok who filmed herself walking out of a self-defense class. It was a Krav Maga class (invented by Israelis, this was a class in America) and how when the instructor mentioned this was an Israeli technique, she "felt a horrible feeling in her gut and felt immediately unsafe" and left because she didn't "want to be complicit in genocide". I try not to be a hateful person, but I genuinely hate people like her. I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of always being painted as a bad guy because of the fact that my parents were born in Israel. This was a random self defense class in America and she said she hates it because it has a loose connection to Israel/Jews. It doesn't fund the IDF or anything like that. Surely there's a word for hating something/someone because of their country of origin. X-xeno....? This is plain old bigotry and I'm so tired. Every single comment was cheering her on. I thought the comments would knock some sense into her, but it was just support for her being so brave. It was never about just the IDF. The whole antizionism isn't antisemitism crowd can't even differentiate between an "evil zionist" (sarcastic) and a random Jew who happens to exist, so yes, antizionism is almost always antisemitism. She just hates Jews. Why does she hate Jews so much? This is why Israelis had to invent self defense techniques: because the whole world keeps trying to kill us. If she's so against krav maga "because jews", I hope she never uses Google or a cell phone or modern medicine. I feel so lonely whenever stuff like this happens. Why do they all hate us.

bruuuuuh

didn't you know, everything which was created in israel is inherently evil as that basrdard joo state touched it /j

People always apply this double standard to Israel whcih they don't to other countries. Like you don't see people dissing other martial arts like Jiu-jitsu was created so samurai could fight back if disarmed. Is it now suddenly an evil sport/fighting technique because it was used by armies? Is it now evil because Japan colonized other countries? No ofc it isn't, but you don't see people saying that, they only say it with Israel.

[myun-saidthoughts]

˗ˏˋ ⭐ ˎˊ˗ Astrology Observations ˗ˏˋ ⭐ ˎˊ˗

🌟 The placement of Pluto in your chart can reveal the theme of pain or transformation you might experience in this life—pain that serves as a catalyst for profound internal and mental shifts within yourself.

The depth of pain will be dependent on your own choices; if you choose to ignore red flags the harsher and more severe the wake up call would be.

Pluto in the 5th house: Struggles might emerge from overindulgence in impulsive or immature choices, such as gambling or seeking joy in fleeting pleasures (such as affairs or short term relationships). Poor choices may manifest because there's a need of deep inner child healing, which could cause deeper emotional wounds in the process. The extremes of choosing quick fun can lead into a habit of poor decision making.  Pluto in the 7th house: Challenges and transformative pain often arise through intimate romantic relationships, pushing you to confront deep-seated patterns and fears. If you keep choosing people who won't choose you or if you rely on others for a sense of self, identity or acceptance then the wake up call would be more prominent or severe. Pluto in the 11th house: Painful experiences may come through friendships or involvement in communities, leading to shifts in how you connect with and trust others. If you find yourself relying on others or seeking external validation through communities, friend groups, or social connections, the wake-up call may lead you to recognize your own worth and embrace yourself as you are, without needing acknowledgment from others. Pluto in the 12th house: Ignoring your psyche or mental struggles can lead to self-unraveling. The more you avoid or dismiss your internal mental health setbacks, the deeper and more painful the lessons will become. You may not even be aware of your emotional needs, but the longer you avoid confronting your sensitivity or past wounds—whether from childhood or relationships—the harder it will be to redefine your self-concept and belief system. You may even experience a revelation about yourself after overcoming depression or anxiety, which can help you understand yourself better. However, remember that being introspective and aware doesn't always mean you're truly feeling your feelings. You may know what to think or how to act, but it’s crucial to connect the emotions you've been holding onto with the feelings beneath them.

Pluto placed in less interactive houses may have a less intense theme, but if you also have Chiron in the same house, its influence can become much more prominent and life-changing, amplifying the potential for deep healing or painful growth.

🌟 If you have many inner planets in your 5th, 7th, or 8th house, you're more likely to seek out romantic connections, desire a partner, or long for one—even if you’ve experienced emotional turmoil in your childhood due to your parents or past partners.

🌟 If you have many inner planets in your 1st, 2nd, or 12th house, you’re less likely to be open to a connection. Subconsciously, you might desire or wish for someone to be “your person,” but you may never allow yourself to fully give in.

🌟 Pisces/Scorpio placements may have a strong tendency to seek deep emotional experiences during times of creativity. They often search for a specific feeling or emotional state as a catalyst to create art or writing.

🌟 Aquarius placements, especially Moon or Rising, often struggle with avoidance as one of their worst traits in any relationships they navigate—whether romantic, platonic, or even with themselves.

🌟 Scorpios are known for their extreme loyalty. Once they choose you, they are deeply committed and unlikely to leave unless a traumatic emotional blockage arises within the relationship.

🌟 Scorpio risings can have beautiful striking eyes, and because of that their eyes can heavily influence appearance. Their eyes may even become an ice breaker for conversations/be talked about a-lot.

🌟 Aries + Libra axis turnover rate when it comes to relationships is incredibly high. Moving on to the next can come naturally to them unless they have other placements that contradicts that tendency.

🌟 Air signs need intellectual stimulation; they need to feel excited and curious with you.

🌟 8th House placements (esp. Moon or Sun) or Scorpio placements are incredibly private towards the public. They naturally will not post on social media: no instagram stories, tweets, memes, their thoughts or feelings willingly and openly.

This is because

At a young age their needs, thoughts or wishes were ignored and pushed to the side for others sake and so they now have coped to never share their own inner thoughts or feelings to others.

They've been burned or hurt in the past by someone they've trusted, and now they don't share or openly state their true feelings outwardly towards others.

If they have a Taurus/Libra/Leo IC or Gemini/Sagittarius/placements then the chances of sharing themselves online is more likely.

🌟 In 8th/Pluto + 12th/Neptune house synastry connections, if you two are not on speaking terms sudden lows may occur when you're reminded of what was.

If it's been weeks or months since you've both talked and one random day they watch your story on your social media a sudden longing for them may come.

If you run into them and the conversation didn't amount to what you wished for, a low may come and you'll feel as if the relationship is completely over.

🌟 8th house synastry amounts to constant cycles and loops, if you're not wishing for them, you say you're over them.

There could be an emotional block between you two and the desire for them may diminish but If they look at you for one second the way they used too, the desire for them will arise as if the feeling never left.

🌟 In 12th house and Neptune synastry, you might covertly share song lyrics on your social media, hoping they’ll read them and sense that the lyrics are meant as a message for them. Instead of expressing your feelings face-to-face, posting these lyrics in a "hidden" way feels safer.

And if so, you yourself may wonder if anything they publicly post, say, or do is a secret message for you.

You may even go out of your way to somehow find a perfect song that depicts the relationship between you two and use that song as a gateway message to state your true feelings without having to outwardly state them.

(The above statement is more true for those who have Pisces, 12th house, Neptune influence in their cart)

🌟 3rd house synastry creates ease with communication, especially if there's 4th house synastry as well, and if the planets involved are the Sun, Moon, or Venus.

🌟 For 12th house synastry to cause intense idealizations, thoughts, dreams, wishes or obsessiveness there has to be attraction involved, the more attracted you are to them the more you'll idealize them.

🌟 A Neptune/12th house person and a planet person can both experience intense desire, longing, or overthinking, but the way they process these feelings depends on their individual natal charts.

🌟 With 8th and 12th house synastry connections, you might never actually date the person, yet the emotions they evoke within you can feel as profound and intimate as if you had.

🌟 Neptune and 12th house synastry: "You are perfect for me; you feel like everything I could ever wish for in someone."

If you're avoidant, this feeling can be terrifying because it brings a sense of inadequacy, as if you could never live up to the idealized version of yourself they see. You'll long for them deeply, but the way they look at you may feel unsettling, foreign, or out of place. Even if they seem like your dream person, self-doubt can drive you to run. You might fear disappointing them or feel you’ll never measure up to the partner they deserve. You'll view them as some sort of prize from a distance and you'll search for them in other connections but you'll never allow yourself to choose them, not like they choose you.

If you're anxious, this feeling will strike a familiar chord, it'll resonate so deeply within and letting go will seem impossible. You'll feel this pull toward them, you'll feel as if they’re your muse, your catharsis, and you'll wish that they were your person. Even without words, you'll sense that they want you, and this silent connection will consume your thoughts. You’ll compare the way they make you feel to everyone else, and you'll search for that same intensity in other people's gazes. You’ll sit in your head, wondering if your wishes align with theirs, questioning if they feel the same. Over time, you’ll realize the emotions they stir in you are unmatched, which leads you to hold onto the connection longer than you should, you'll rather wish on the what could be's than accept what is.

🌟 Pisces or 12th house placements often turn to writing or art as a means of expressing their inner thoughts, feelings, and longings. The more they feel, the more their creativity flows.

🌟 If you have water placements or planets in water houses (4th, 8th, 12th), deep emotions are embedded within you. The more you avoid these feelings, the more likely physical symptoms such as anxiety or mental struggles will occur. It's your body’s way of processing the hidden emotions you’ve learned to suppress. These unaddressed feelings can manifest in subtle, physical ways, and it's a reflection of the emotional turmoil beneath the surface.

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁pac reading ｡⋆｡ ﾟ

ೄྀ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆

ʚ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒕 ೄྀ 𓏲༄

some short tarot readings aiming to provide information that could be useful if you're going thru hard times. this is completely random, take what resonates leave what doesn't, hopefully there's something useful in here <3 .

{ pngs by @20sk-smoke }{dividers by @d-oie & @cafekitsune}

pile one pile two pile three

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.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

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˚˖𓍢ִ໋ ✧ pile number one ˚.⋆

You are facing a moment of imbalance due to a certain sense of harmony getting lost among the overwhelming feelings of chaos and uncertainty. You are almost aware of the new emotionally constructive opportunities on the horizon, but you also fear that you won't make it out of whatever situation is blocking your path towards abundance. Progress might not be happening at the speed you desire, but it's certain that your achievements are not meant to be easily seen by yourself, you need to allow yourself to be grateful now instead of only allowing gratitude when you reach what could be seen as a “fully achieved” goal. Absolute success is not something that's eternal, it's a feeling that lasts too little. This reality shouldn't put you down as the opportunity for constant evolution gives depth to personal experiences. When possible, try to find comfort in the spiritual growth opportunities, don't hyperfixate on what's not available for you to do at the moment as there's help coming your way. There's no shame in letting others care for you when you need assistance to get back on your feet, specially during this moment where you might be drawn to seeking deeper connections with people who are on the same path you are.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ ✧ pile number two ˚.⋆

You might be feeling overly pressured to react to abrupt changes in your routine or new demands that exceed the limits of your comfort zone. It seems as if you feel that life is asking for too much and you have to options other than to give up on your ideals or your habits and surrender to these new expectations. Your confidence is not meant to be shattered because of such demands and situations, it’s meant to become stronger by creating new ways of asserting yourself as the determined and hard working person you are. It would be completely understandable if you became defensive, but this defensiveness will become a tiring part of yourself if you are not able to pick your battles more wisely. You have the mental strength and the creativity to adapt into different ways of channeling your energy, but it will take you some time and persistence to get a sense of how exactly you are meant to do so. This is a great moment to trust in your resilience. If you are not feeling confident enough, you need to trust yourself and your ability to rebuild your life even in situations where you are overwhelmed by all sorts of demands that might seem unrealistic now, but you are quite capable of finding the right tools to face them.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ ✧ pile number three ˚.⋆

During this moment of your journey, there’s still a lot of hard work to do in regards to your inner world, your ideals, your values and the hard questions on why you are actually persisting and doing said hard work. You are already quite far in terms of your personal development and in your experiences, but at this point you are facing doubts that do not require knowledge that comes from outside of yourself, you need to have more moments of introspection in your life. So far, you have a lot of good tools and foundations for material success, yet your mindset needs further development in order for these tools to bring material abundance and spiritual fulfillment. Most of the confusion and feelings of disorientation  you could be facing right now, are meant to guide you towards getting the ability to make sure your thoughts, your feelings and your actions are properly aligned with your goals. You are probably amazing at knowing what to do, but you need your actions to also serve your intellectual and emotional needs as much as they serve your goals, by taking this into consideration, your journey towards success and fulfillment will become more satisfactory, as you will reach your goals and actually feel a whole sense of achievement that goes beyond just doing the thing in question.

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[croziers-compass]

Truly, the base thing is that the younger generations of humans do not treat engaging with other people as speaking to another human being. Going to sound like a boomer myself, but there is such a distinct lack of both respect and decency. In online spaces and social media, respect is not something that is rewarded or treated as a standard; and that standard is entirely gone. So many of the younger folks nowadays treat all of their engagements across the internet with a lack of respect, decency, and honouring of the other person and their presence in their communication. Their time is spent in an online environment where they are enticed with drama, conflict, and they entertain boredom with antagonism. They also are engaging with people that they will never have to really see or properly engage with and if they want they can guilt-free block and never see someone again. This has rewarded and encouraged poor social skills and an inability to properly make deep and understanding connections with potential employers or individuals that can help move their careers or interests forwards. And then they, without knowing any better, ask the questions of: "Why do I have to treat another human being like a human being?" because they are not rewarded for treating human beings like human beings and not just a source of online entertainment and media consumption to scratch an itch. And this isn't just about e-mails as well. The way social engagements online have developed is very poor. Etiquette isn't something that's meant to be posh or high-toned. It isn't meant to be a display of superiority. It's meant to show respect, decency, and to let someone know you actually care about the other person, what they have to say, and how they feel about something. It shows you are also receptive to what the other person has. Don't you want someone to make you feel like they care and are listening to you? So when you reach out to people online, how you choose to engage with someone will determine if they wish to engage with you further. If you want to make connections with other human beings, you may have to understand that it is not always going to revolve solely around yourself. And I absolutely understand that the current settings of the social expectations of social media environments have derailed any idea of conducting yourself with dignity and respect or treating other people with dignity and respect. But it's something that will negatively impact someone in the future if they fail to grasp the importance of treating other people with basic communicated respect. Especially in professional settings.

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis