#and i do love to question what happens when you achieve everything you wanted only to find it wanting in turn

[storms-path]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 27 - Sole

If Arashi had been told as a child that she would one day be sitting at a table sipping coffee with a picturesque view of the end of the universe, watching carefully a man who had all-too-recently made it his life’s purpose to duel her to the death, she’d have said she didn’t talk to strangers, especially those that talked nonsense. If she had been told the same thing as an adult, she’d have given the teller a flat look and walked away. And yet, she mused, sipping just-slightly-too-hot coffee, here she was. And there he was. In a constructed body, true, and more likely just a lingering echo, but Zenos viator Galvus sat opposite her all the same. Watching her intently through a glowing helmet.

Arashi had noticed his attention several days earlier while assisting the staff of the Last Dregs with their maintenance of Elysion. One of the Karellians had been watching her intently as she worked, not even bothering to be subtle as their gaze followed her to and fro. Arashi wasn’t unused to such attention (being the Warrior of Light led to someone getting quite used to such things), but something about it felt uncomfortably familiar. And so Arashi had hatched a plan. As she worked, the Karellian watched her. As the Karellian worked, Arashi watched them. A good deal more subtly, of course.

It was the strangest thing. It was obvious in the being’s movements that they were the former crown prince. The practised fluidity. The predator’s gaze lingering over his fellow workers, sizing them all up. The voice (when Arashi dared to get close enough to hear it) was him to a tee, even muffled though it was by his helmet. And yet… He was gentle. He was compliant. He worked without complaint and took orders without question. He laboured, for the first time in his life, for the betterment of others. It was like watching a tiger take up dancing lessons.

It hadn’t lasted long before he had noticed her. But he hadn’t exploded into violence or worse, one of his uncomfortably passionate rants. He appeared nervous, more than anything. As if he hadn’t been watching her every move for days on end. It was, truth be told, the only reason she hadn’t cut him down where he stood. Instead, against her better judgement, she had chosen to “escort” him to a quiet table and a pair of hot drinks. Against her worst expectations, he had accepted without a word.

The silence stretched on dangerously, the outcome of the confrontation hanging on a blade’s edge of unspoken words. Truthfully, Arashi wasn’t sure what to say. She’d thought the man dead and… well, not buried but safely filed away at the edge of space. Apparently the ambient dynamis had other ideas. What do you say to the ghost of a man you killed twice over? Finally, Arashi settled on:

“Why are you here? How are you here?”

The helmet gave no emotions away, but Zenos shrugged in what Arashi could only guess was an awkward fashion. It looked unnatural on him, stolen body or otherwise. “Some trick of our slain foe, I can only imagine. I was ready to embrace my end by your hand, my friend, but to my utmost displeasure, I awoke again. It appears my tale is not yet told, much though I laboured to write such a perfect conclusion.”

Yes, it’s definitely him alright. Arashi stifled an irritated sigh. If she ever encountered Meteion out there in the stars again she would have strong words for the little songbird. Still… “Next question. You knew I was here for weeks and did nothing. Why?”

Another shrug, Zenos’s helmet turning away. His slightly tinny voice sounded, for the first time, uncertain. Arashi took another sip from her steaming mug. “I… You were the victor. We gave everything we had in our clash and in the end it was you who walked away. This is a soldier’s body, but it has grown weary of war. And so, it seems, have I.”

Zenos didn’t mind the spray of coffee that erupted out of Arashi’s mouth and splattered his gold-and-blue helmet. The revelation had surprised him too. But the truth was, as he had laid breathing his last next to his friend, he had only felt… empty. Unfulfilled. He had challenged the mightiest warrior in all of creation, pushed her beyond her mighty limits, achieved his heart’s desire… and had died feeling only like he had somehow missed the point of it all. Arashi had finally finished coughing up her coffee and cleaning up her mess. It was strange, seeing such an unguarded side of her. Strange to see her out of her usual armour as well. Like looking through a soldier’s belongings and finding a pair of knitting needles. How much of you have I never seen, my friend? What joys have you known outside of battle? How have you managed to find them?

Arashi looked at the man in front of her in disbelief. Zenos bloody Galvus, monster of the empire, hunter of the Warrior of Light to the literal end of existence, was tired of war? It was laughable beyond belief. A cruel joke from a crueller man. And yet, watching from the shadows, using all of her sister’s hard-taught lessons, she had seen the truth in it. Seen him choosing a path without violence, seen him learning how to nurture and grow instead of maiming and slaying. Perhaps it was all an act for her benefit. But she suspected not.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” The words were appraising, an undercurrent of curiosity and hope inextricably tied together. She wanted to believe, deep down. Zenos couldn’t help but look at the blade between them. The blade she had used to do battle with him. Spattered with coffee now, rather than blood. But no less dangerous for it. She could have cut him down in an instant.

“I am. I know not what I am, truly. Some echo of the man I used to be, perhaps. His last regrets given form. Or perhaps I am myself entire, given an undeserved last chance. I embraced the role of a monster wholeheartedly, threw myself into the role without regret, and yet now I find myself here questioning the point of the whole insipid play. I, who wrote its words with blood and fire.” He couldn’t meet her eyes even with the helmet protecting his gaze. It didn’t feel right.

“Let me ask you a question in turn. You surely knew who I was before confronting me. I made no effort to disguise my observations, nor to mask myself as you watched me in turn. Yet you have not cut me down. I am certain that you still wish to do so, or else you would not have come armed as you are. Why have you not done so?”

It was a question Arashi knew was coming, but she still found herself unable to answer it. Was it that she wanted to believe even he could change his ways? Was she curious to know what had stayed his hand from continuing their contest? Those may have been part of it, but…

“I suppose I’m tired too, in the end.” The words felt right as they left her mouth. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder expecting to see you there. I’m tired of trying to prepare any countermeasure I can for when you come for my loved ones. I’m tired of sleepless nights spent wondering if I’ll walk away from our next battle or not. I’m tired of the play. I wanted to know if you were too.”

Zenos nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. It was a terrifying thing to put away his role after so long, but it felt necessary; vital, even. He knew not how long he had left to toil amongst the stars, but he knew with certainty that he could only do so by letting go of what he was. All of it, the whirling passion and the crushing boredom and the singular, incandescent spark that had driven him to such a wildfire of damnation. It was terrifying, truth be told. But he had never felt so free in doing so.

Arashi was silent for a long moment. Then, incredibly, she smiled. At him, her greatest enemy, his only friend. “That’s what I was hoping for.” She placed her mug on the table between them, sitting next to her massive blade in a ridiculous manner. Her hand was outstretched. “Let’s shake on it, then. You give up your little crusade and I don’t put you in a shallow grave.”

Zenos chuckled, gloved hand meeting Arashi’s as they sealed the deal. It was an impossible dream, setting aside his only joy in life in a desperate pursuit of other, simpler pleasures. His true self would have railed against such a thing, fought with gnashing teeth and ripping claw until all that he had left was unmade as well. But he wasn’t that man. He was… not an echo, for an echo could only repeat the voice of its source. But something else. Something new.

They spoke for a while, of the cafe, of the harvest, of the clutch of dragon eggs and the recent hatchlings. Of all manner of unspeakably tedious things. It was… nice to enjoy such base things. How strange that he had never realised it before. Finally, Arashi made to stand, empty cup and neatly cleaned sword held in each hand.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” she said, trying and failing to hide the smile in her eyes. “Keep this up, Zenos. You’re almost pleasant company.” And then she was gone, vanishing in a casual pulse of aether and leaving him alone amongst the stars again.

Zenos would not last forever. A lingering echo will eventually fade to nothing. But the time he had left he spent working with his fellow lost souls. Forging bonds. Making friends. Finally seeing, after so much time, the true value of it all. And when at last he let go and joined whatever was left of him in the aetherial sea, he found himself content. And Arashi, watching him go, felt something she never thought she would feel for the monster.

Grief.

[bramblebeau]

Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[hurtblossom]

You belong with me L.N.4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Driver!Reader (Female)

Summary : Driver reader is in love with little Lando Norris, but he is too oblivious to notice ?

Warning : ANGST + Insecure reader + Terrible english (feel free to correct me) + Relatively short. Use of she/her pronounce

INSPIRED BY THE SONG YOU BELONG WITH ME, BY TAYLOR SWIFT

Materlist

You've always had a soft spot for Lando Norris, from the moment you first saw him at one karting race, when you were just kids. You grew up together, along with other drivers, so you were on the first line to see the little boy you once knew, turn into one hell of a man. But it wasn't his beauty that caught your attention. It was rather how mature he was at such a young age, how he was shy around all the other boys during karting, or how he always managed to have a good heart.  

You'll always remember the day you met him; it was during your first ever karting competition. You've waited for this moment a long time, and trained hard, with your father's help, to achieve your goals. Unfortunately, nothing went as planned, and you ended up being covered in mud, and disqualified, due to someone pushing you off the track (it was just an inchident, on the race).

You'll always remember that little boy, coming towards you and sitting next to you, telling you how much of a great racer you are, and how you should beat yourself up over one loss. When you turned to look at him, the only thing you could see was his smile.

He raised one hand, which made you flinch a little, and he carefully brought it to your face, whipping the tears. That was the first ever memory you had of Lando Norris, and ever since then, you've been growing a crush on him, to which he had been oblivious.  

Back to the story ...  

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset  She's going off about something that you said  Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do 

You've been a driver for McLaren for a little less than 3 months now, they were kind enough to give you a chance, as the first female, racing in Formula 1, against men.  

You often saw Lando, on his phone, texting away, or just talking on the phone with someone. You didn't want to pry or to be weird by asking questions. You were only his teammate after all, so you just watched him, from afar.

You noticed that he always seemed to be upset when on the phone, always huffing and arguing with the person on the other side of it. You could hear small bits of the conversation, something about him being rude or whatever.  

"You should stop staring, it's becoming quite obvious." Max said, sitting beside you.  

"I don't know what you're talking about." You said, burying your eyes on your phone.  

"I'm serious Y/n/n, it's been years, when are you going to give up?" He asked.  

" Again, I don't know what you're talking about." You replied, sitting up. "Now, if you don't mind, I have places to be "  

"The sooner you'll get over it, the better. " Yelled Max, while watching you disappear.  

But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts  She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers  Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find  That what you're looking for has been here the whole time 

The first time you met Magui, Lando's girlfriend, you couldn't help but compare yourself with her. The way she dresses, how she talked, how she laughed, her posture. Everything she had, everything she was, you envied, because you were never that. Deep down, you wished to be like her, and even deeper than that, you wanted to know if Lando would even spare you a glance, if you looked just a little bit like Magui.  

McLaren was having a little brunch, where all the team was invited, including plus ones. You were all sitting around a table, talking about the previous races, laughing and just having a good time, all together. It was loud.

It was now that Lando cracked a joke, and everybody laughed that you realized that Magui wasn't really interested in what was happening, only focusing of her phone.

You looked back at Lando and saw the disappointment on his face. You made direct eye contact, and you smiled at him, waving slowly your hand, to which he did the same, you couldn't help but think that she really wasn't for him.

What you didn't see was Magui's face after that. And what you surely didn't know was that after that lunch, you were the topic of an argument between those two.  

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you  Been here all along, so why can't you see?  You belong with me 

The last GP left Lando in pieces, feeling like a disappointment, like he couldn't do anything right, win anything. During that last race, he ended up DNFing, while you were P3. Once out of the car, you were smiling, but it slowly faded away when you noticed your team's behavior.  

"What's happening?" You asked one of your coworkers after taking off your helmet.  

"Lando DNFed, and we can't find him anywhere." You've informed.  

Technically, you had to go straight to media, to talk about your race, but at that moment, your whole attention was focused on finding Lando.  

Walking around the paddock, you bumped into Magui, you didn't miss the dirty look she gave you.  

"Have you seen Lando?" You asked her.  

"Why are you looking for my boyfriend?" She asked in return. "Haven't you understood yet? He doesn't want you. Stop being so clingy with him, stop laughing at his stupid jokes, and stop looking at him all the damn time. " 

"What on earth are you talking about?" You asked, confused.  

" Don't act stupid. You know exactly what I'm talking about. He told me how much of a creep you are. Leave him alone. He's too nice to tell you that himself." She explained, getting angrier every time she pronounced a word.  

" He told you that?" You whispered.  

" That and many other things." She spoke. "Leave my boyfriend alone. Understood?"  

"Yeah. Alright. I will." You said, trying to get as far away as possible from that woman.  

"And for the recorded. He blames you for today." She finally said, before leaving.  

Tears were going down your face, as you continued to walk. That's when you saw him, sitting alone, far away from any cameras, his face buried in his hands. You dried your tears with the back of your hand, before joining him. You took a seat next to him, silently, not daring to look at him.  

"Don't beat yourself too much." You said, catching his attention. "It wasn't your fault; you did the best you could."  

"I failed, again." He said, looking straight forward.  

"You're a fantastic racer, Lando. One fail doesn't define you. You have many wins coming your way. I know it." You explained, looking at him.  

"How can you be so sure?" He asked 

" Because I know you." You simply said, smiling at him. "And I know you're going to do big things."  

At that moment, his face turned, and his eyes studied your face, his smiled disappeared, replaced by a frown.  

"Were you crying?" He asked, noticing the redness of your eyes.  

" Um, yeah." You whispered. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I wont bother you anymore Lando." 

"Bother me? What are you talking about?" He asked, confusion visible on his face, but you just couldn't deal with that now.  

"I have to go." You stood up quickly, making your way towards the paddock. Lando stood up quickly, calling after you, but you just didn't turn around. 

part 2 🩷

[11cupids-tarot11]

What has your future spouse been dreaming about lately?

For the divine feminine seeking the divine masculine •°. *࿐

1 -> 4

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☆

Pile 1- The Chariot, Two of Swords, The Hanged Man

I'm getting the feeling your spouse really wants to make a move on you! He's dreaming about what it's like to be all in your space, he really wants to know what you're like. I was thinking at first that maybe he wants to spend time with you and know what it would be like to do mundane things with you like grocery shopping, but I think this guy is more curious than that. I think he wants to know just about you in general and what you like doing, he's the type to watch what you pick up and glance at during shopping just to get a feel of what you like. He wants to know your schedule, how your day went, he'll probably ask this a lot.

I feel like this person has a crush on you? He feels kinda stuck, like the hanged man lol. I'm not sure the circumstances or the dynamic of the relationship/how you'll come together but it surely feels like this person is very secretive with his thoughts of you, like he's very open telling me but he's scared to tell you? Like maybe this is someone you know of and you guys are friends and they're secretly crushing lol, that was very specific so it's okay if it doesn't resonate with everyone. This could also be a secret admirer for some.

But he's dreaming about changing something with you, planting roots and something stable. I'm not sure what the change will be, but I am seeing him thinking of different approaches to overcome whatever hardship is happening between you two, it could also be something on their end like maybe shadow work still needs to be done or they're still dealing with a karmic relationship of some sort.

It seems to me like they're sorting through everything, they might fantasize about things finally coming to an end and being able to start something with you. I know as soon as this is finished they're spreading towards you. I think they really just want you to know they're still coming? I got this rush feeling, like an adrenaline rush feeling? I think this person just wants you to know they're still clearing through some things! "Just hang in a little longer!" I'm hearing with a cute little smiley face ☺️. Your person is adorable! I think they love acts of service too!

I think if this were to be a 18+ reading they'd definitely tell you about all of the things they'd love to focus on your body and needs lol.

I have to make an 18+ version of this now 😂 stay tuned!

Don't forget to do the poll below! Talk again soon!!

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Pile 2- Six of Coins, Eight of Swords in reverse, The moon, Temperance, Ten of Cups.

Your person dreams about spoiling you, pampering you, taking you out on really fancy dates (plus showing you off 😵‍💫) just treating you like you are their everything. I hear it's because you are their everything! They adore you so much!

This person talks a lot too and wanted to pull extra cards when I usually only do a three card pull spread lol.

This card makes me feel like your person kinda feels like a spider stuck in it's own web right now, they're really in their head :( I getting your person has a negative mindset? For some of you it could be specific as they feel like they're not on the same level as you whatever that might mean to them. They dream about cutting out of their web, I think for the benefit of the connection really but also for their piece of mind, yk?

Maybe this person feels like they have to achieve a certain amount of wealth before they come to you, which goes hand in hand what I was saying about really wanting to spoil you lol they want to save up a bunch so they can have a great future with you and for those of you who want children they also want to build a family for you so of course they want to save for this too.

They dream about having a steady home with you, I think they like to fantasize about your future a lot lol. They say it won't be perfect but it'll be the definition of love like a real family should be lol. They want a balance with you, they're also the type to be very balanced in a relationship, they'll balance work and you at the same time. I honestly get the vibe that's why they're working so hard right now, so they can spend the rest of their time with you more!

I think this person dreams about the day you two unite! With the ten of cups I feel they dream about a happy home with you a lot, but also a happy relationship. I can guarantee this relationship will be very fulfilling and healing and loving. Their energy feels so excited to meet you if you guys haven't already, a healthy and loving relationship could be something they've always wished for so this is a wish fulfillment for them, they can't wait to experience real love with you. 🩵 The color blue might be specific for a few of you?

Don't forget to do the poll below! Talk to you soon love :))

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Pile 3- Knight of Coins, Justice (clarification cards- Death, and Strength), Two of Wands, Seven of Cups (clarification cards- Ten of Cups), and King of Swords (clarification cards- Knight of Wands)

I needed so much clarification for this group xD

Every time I look at the ducks eyes they always look so full of administration, anyone else see it? It's adorable. I channeled right away your person will adore you like this picture so I chose it!

I heard they think about this every day straight away lol.

Your future spouse fantasizes about putting hard work into you, really showing up for you I'm feeling. Like I feel like it's deeper than a materialistic matter, I feel like he really wants to support you emotionally. He doesn't want to be your therapist or anything it's like he just wants to make sure you're okay, he really cares about your well being. A better way to put this is that they really want to show up as a man in your life, one that doesn't have a toxic sense of masculinity and really respects women and wants to understand your needs, wants and boundaries I'm hearing. He likes to solve your problems because your problems are his problems.

He's dreaming about justice in a situation, I'm going to pull clarification cards for the Justice card to help understand a bit better because I want to know possibly in what situation, I can't figure that out on my own I'm not hearing much channeling on this card. The clarification cards just are making me feel it's probably a too personal situation they don't want me to know about, but maybe when you meet this person you will know because it's making me feel like it's linked to you, he probably doesn't want you to understand much either right now but he says he's working hard on getting justice in a situation he really wants to come to an end soon, I think when it's over it'll bring a lot of happiness, a shift in energy, a really big change :) He wants you to encourage him to be strong as he encourages you, it's a very tough situation maybe? Heavy energy kind of just came through me, like a little random rush of sadness just thinking about the question so I will move on now :)

This person fantasizes about making everything perfect a lot in a way, he really likes to plan. You'll notice this about them right away lol. They probably have a hectic schedule right now I'm hearing. They're possibly planning on how to get to you? This feels like a soulmate connection, something that's just supposed to happen because it just makes so much sense because you two love each other and really care for one another. This is someone who you can spend the rest of your life with because they're confident you two are a perfect match. Very equal in the relationship which is why it would work perfectly I'm hearing. He's just doing a bunch of planning right now, lots of thinking things over and through.

He dreams about probably having a lot of money, a level of fame? Maybe he's a celebrity or wants to be, he could be very creative and expensive. He dreams a lot very dreamy they could have water in their chart, they do feel emotional. They're so cute 😭

This person dreams about picking a path and advancing in it basically, they really want to be the boss, be at the top of their game whatever career or field it might be. They want a lot of abundance! They fantasize about being given an opportunity to present themselves, show off maybe. They could be a really good singer/rapper or some kind of performer. They could play an instrument.

I feel like they really want to settle down with you for sure though, they want to offer you a lot as well so they work really hard to show up financially, they could've grown up in poverty I'm hearing a specific message for some of you so being financially stable is everything for them. They want you right by their side ;)

This person was kinda hard to read but I think that's cause how dreamy they felt, thoughts kinda bouncing around everywhere haha, so take this how it resonates with you!

Don't forget to do the poll below!! Talk to you soon!

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Pile 4- Seven of Coins, The Magician (clarification cards- Three of wands), Seven of Wands (clarification cards- Death and Queen of Swords)

This person wants to start off with the seven of wands first even though it was the last card to be pulled lol.

They want to maybe draw attention to dreaming about fighting for something? They are very protective and will stand their ground and fight for what's theirs. I can't really tell, so I'm going to ask for clarification ;) I don't know why but I feel like they want to sabotage a relationship between you and someone else? I feel like they fantasize about this a lot! I feel like your energy is the Queen of wands but you don't really see this person! This could be a clue your future spouse is someone you already know!

They dream about making you theirs lol stealing you away. 😋

So with that, they're also dreaming about the future with you! Working on their finances as well, but also thinking about what it would be like in the future with you. This person feels like they're confident they will have a future with you lol. Maybe they're not making a move right now because they want to build up their finances more for the long run with you, because when they do make a move on you they plan to commit deeply and I'm hearing they fell hard for you, and you possibly don't even know it 😵‍💫.

😭 🩷 you probably drive this person crazy lmao

He's probably manifesting you lol?

I asked for clarification for the magician as well and it just makes me think he's really brainstorming a lot right now? I think every pile had a lot of thinking in them but never really being too specific on what and I'm always left with so much quietness so I'm left in the dark😭

They're just really thinking a lot which makes me think it's only about you. They seem shy, they could be younger than you? They seem like they're too scared to tell you how they really feel. Could be scared of rejection? But they really do fantasize about you a lot! They think about you constantly and different ways to impress you, how to get your attention. They really want you my pile 4's and they're fighting hard hehe. They won't back down either!

They think you're very pretty, like the bunny in the picture 😻. Hehe cute.

They might call you princess a lot, or other cute little pet names. They feel very affectionate, they have a lot of love to give! This person isn't someone to be scared of, they do care about you! It's not all about lust, there's love here as well as admiration! They do adore you!

Don't forget to do the poll below!! Talk again soon love!!

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[kaisaerinlover]

rin and sae itoshi

tw; incest, dark content

(every character is of age ofc, just clearing it up because i did refer to reader as ‘baby sister’)

rin and sae love their little sister, in their own ways. rin is more gentle with you, so soft with you, like he thinks you’re made of glass rather than being made with the same flesh as him. he thinks you’re too good to be anything like him. his sweet imouto. how could you ever be anything like him? he’s so disgusting. he doesn’t even know why he thinks and feels the way he does about you. he doesn’t know why he gets a hard on when you whine his name, he doesn’t know why he gets so mad when he comes home from practice to see you giggling at your phone to some other guys messages, he doesn’t know why he feels nothing towards anyone that isn’t you.

he doesn’t know why he has you trapped underneath him right now as he kisses your neck so sweetly, listening to your sweet whines. but he doesn’t care either when it feels so fucking right. “rin nii i l-love you ‘s much.” god your voice is so fucking cute, it drives him insane, he’s so disgusting for this he knows it. he wants to ruin you, make you as bad as he is. he’s so depraved, he’s your older brother and yet he treats you in this way, he’s so sick. but hey, that’s what happens when you lack supervision from your parents, your parents had only ever cared for rin and sae’s achievements anyway, you were the forgotten third child, and they were nurtured only a tiny amont more than you. you are the only other girl in rin and sae’s life. of course they act like this to you.

“love you so much ‘mouto, so fucking much” he captures your lips in a sweet embrace, and you think it’s normal. he knows it’s not. he feels bad sometimes, you’re so naive, too much for your own good, you wear your heart on your sleeve for your 2 older brothers and him and sae are so disgusting, always using it to their advantage. rin brushes the strands of hair that fell onto your face, staring into your eyes. you all share the same eyelashes, but he thinks you wear them best, big innocent eyes. you’re so pure, him and sae are so tainted. neither cares though, maybe someday you’ll realise they’re sick and leave, but they secretly hope not. he doesn’t even realise how long he is staring for until your voice snaps him out of it. “nii chan are you okay?” he looks down at you, thinking about it, is he ok? probably not. he answers your question with another kiss to the lips, he gnaws at your lips and forces his tongue down your throat, he wants to fucking devour you whole.

that’s how most nights you spend with rin are, your brother being so gentle to you one minute, then so rough the next. you know he’s just possessive, and rin is thankful you don’t think too much about it. there’s really nothing going on in your pretty little head, and he’s glad about that. he thinks you’re too sweet to know the reality of what him and sae do to you, and he’s right.

sae is a different story than rin, he’s so cold to you, chastises you for everything, insults you both. you’re just an annoying little sister, he doesn’t care about you at all. that’s what he tells himself anyway. sae is just so mean. rin wouldn’t do anything with you in anyway that isn’t gentle, unless he really lost himself, but sae simply doesn’t care. sae is more nonchalant than rin, he always was, he doesn’t care and he does things only for his pleasure and his comfort. he doesn’t care the way his baby sister’s knees hurt from kneeling on the wooden floor just to make sae feel good, he doesn’t care if you can’t take his cock, if it’s too big, he thinks you look cute crying anyway. he doesn’t care if you don’t like the taste, he’s nothing like rin at all. he doesn’t show much affection, not nicely anyway, and he’s not good with sweet words like rin.

to rin, sweet talking you is easy, when the three of you are together on the rare occasion, sae here’s all the sweet talk. when you are sitting in the middle of both brothers, sae’s hand gripping your leg in a death grip, rin is holding your hand sweetly, whispering sweet nothings to you, reminding you of how you’re always gonna be his cute baby sister, how he loves you so much, how you’re always gonna be the itoshi’s princess, the best girl in the world, no one can take you away from him, from them.

sae hates it, he’s worse at words than rin is, not even words, maybe he’s just worse at being nice to you. rin is good like that, rin is very gentle with you, sae is so rough. rin wants to ruin you in his own way, sae is just rough all around.

sometimes he wants to try, rin was awkward too at first, he misses when his younger brother was more awkward, couldn’t say anything without blushing, couldn’t even hear your name without getting flustered, maybe he could be like that too. rin improved a lot. but he can’t do that, it’s not new, rin and sae are in a secret competition for you, they both know neither will win, deep down, but they try anyway. you love them both the same, how could you not? it’s probably what they love the most about you, how kind hearted you are, so sweet and so pliant for the oldest brothers.

but sae can’t help but be a bit jealous sometimes, he knows you go to rin for comfort after he said something to upset you. after he was a bit too rough. and rin is equally as jealous of sae, jealous that you still go back to him, despite how cruel he can be to you.

sae is home for a month, so he isn’t surprised when you knock on the door to his room to come spend time with him. rin doesn’t do that anymore, but you still try. it’s endearing, but it gets annoying. he sighs “come in” and watches you walk in and sit down on his bed. he knows what you’re going to say, you’re going to say ‘welco-‘ “welcome home sae nii!!!! i missed you nii chan soo much, let’s spend time together again” wow, you beat even his mind to it, he couldn’t even think it before you said it. he can’t say no to you though, you look so cute and happy to see him, it’s not something he’s used to.

you always let him be as rough as he wishes, because you’re desperate for his attention, for his approval, the same desire rin has, but you go about it so differently. rin tries it through football, you just let him walk all over you. sae has you in that same position rin always has you in, but he’s so rough. he’s holding your hands above your head as you lay on his bed, his tongue is down your throat and you can’t even breathe. rin’s affection can be suffocating sometimes, but sae’s is quite literally suffocating. and he doesn’t care either, sae takes what he wants because you’re his sister.

he stops after some minutes, admiring the way you look, looking at the marks he left on your wrists from gripping them, looking at the drool running down your mouth. he wipes it with his thumb and puts it in your mouth. he’s so rough with you he knows, he doesn’t know why. he just wants to see his precious imouto ruined, it’s one thing him and rin have in common.

“s-sae-nii, too rough- ‘n more- don’t… can’t..-“ poor thing, you’re panting for air, he likes this look on you, so dishevelled and almost always tearing up. “sh, don’t be annoying” he chastises you. he knows he’s mean, and he’s surprised you always come back for more. he thinks you’re an angel, you love him even through his meanness. “nii-chan, love y-you” you whine at him. he knows you love him, he does love you too. he leans down and bites at your neck, hard enough to draw blood. “i know ‘mouto, sh now”

sae is rough, tonight he was extra rough, so he’s not surprised when he hears your sniffles from rin’s room again, can hear rin shushing you, not in the way he does it, he’s soothing you. he’s jealous, but you’ll be back again, just like you always are.

rin is gentle, he’s comforting you again, because of sae again, and he’s happy, he’s content, maybe if sae learned how to love you he might take you away. but he hasn’t learned yet, so for now he gets to have you. but he knows the cycle will repeat again. both of them know it.

neither of them will ever win, you’re too stupid to even realise they’re fighting over you. it’s for the best though, no little sister subjected to this should ever have any awareness of anything going on. thank god your parents raised none of you right. your brothers can agree on that. what would they do without being able to indulge in one of life’s greatest pleasures, their little sister?

note: hi sorry if it’s bad , it was just an idea dump :< i wanted to write something for the itoshi brothers, and i had a lot more to say but i couldn’t articulate anything properly, so if you read this i hope you liked it!!!!! i hope one day i can write something that isn’t just my complete brainrot dumped into a short fic

pls feel free to make requests, i love writing

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones: Wanted

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: After the defeat of Arlong, at Arlong Park, the five of you promised to yourselves, and each other, to achieve your dreams on your way to the Grand Line helping Luffy search for the One Piece. It seems simple enough, except for the minor detail that you died. Coming back from the brink of death, Zoro and the others have noticed you haven’t been the same. You aren’t sure if it’s Death himself chasing after you or something far more sinister. But facing your inner demons won’t be the only fight you’ll have to worry about when family comes calling. 

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: established relationship, idiots to lovers, angst, mentions of smut, (will add stuff later) it’s an adventure, y’all!

Words: 6.3+

A/N: Hello my darlings! It is I! Your resident clown! I hope you are all doing well!! Finally, I have finished the prologue to my version of One Piece filler. I am so incredibly excited to share this with you guys while we wait for the next season of OPLA to arrive! I’m even more excited to share in this journey with all of you. This first chapter is pretty heavy and gives a brief backstory to what took place in season one with CITB, just in case anyone comes in reading this one first.. I’ll always do my best to make sure there are proper warnings in place for each chapter and, if I ever happen to miss one, please let me know. Now, let us properly get on with our new adventure.  As always, I hopeyou all enjoy this! Much much love, Jenn

p.s. shout out to @deadneverlander for always being my clown bestie and the bestest editor-in-chief

Warnings: mentions of previous torture, trauma, and gore

Chaos in Their Bones Master List

It was odd how the body adjusted to change before the mind realized what was happening. How Zoro could barely remember when he’d strictly stopped thinking of just singularly him and began to think about them. The one specific goal he’d carried with him his whole life - an armor that entombed him - suddenly no longer held the same weight as it had before.

Zoro was part of a crew now. It felt unbelievable when he thought about it, but he wasn’t a part of just any crew.

Zoro was a part of Luffy’s crew - his first mate. 

Kuina always told him he needed to lighten up. Get some friends. If only she could see him now. A band of misfits who’d become family. 

(Except for the waiter. Zoro still wasn’t sure about that guy.)

That one word, family, bounced around the inside of his skull, shattering every ounce of the solitary life he still tried to hold on to. After Kuina died he used their promise for a solid reason for his loneliness. It protected him - shielded him from having to go out and be a part of the world. While others thought he led a lonely life, Zoro believed it was simply a life free from distractions. A life centered around one goal,  a promise, and that didn’t allow room for error. 

And then everything changed the minute a boy in a straw hat stumbled on him tied up in a yard. Zoro recalled how instantly he’d found Luffy annoying; a pest. A nuisance in the form of gangly limbs and possibly too much leg, until Luffy asked him one simple question: “Is that all you are? Is that all you want?”

It surprised the hell out of him when he’d considered answering him. It surprised him even more when he did. Luffy didn’t laugh when Zoro told him, either. Instead, he listened and looked at Zoro like it was more than a possibility. Anything felt possible when you were with Luffy. The words spilled out of him with such conviction he was sure they could raise Kuina from the dead. He wasn’t sure why he’d even answered Luff. Once he did there was no denying his words had solidified a belief in Luffy that Zoro’s dream wasn’t just a possibility, but that Zoro would succeed in doing it. 

The only person who’d shared in his dream believed it would become a reality the harder they trained, had been Kuina. Sharing your hopes and dreams with another person was one of the deepest connections you could inadvertently make. Suddenly, just from sharing a few words, your entire being was stripped bare. Open for everyone to see down to the very marrow of your bones who you were and, because of this, Zoro didn’t share lightly. He couldn’t risk someone laughing at him or telling him he never stood a chance. 

The Demon Pirate Hunter would burn the heavens down if it meant he could get what he wanted.

So, Zoro waited for Luffy to laugh in his face. To try and curse his spirit along with his dream. Instead, Luffy believed just as vehemently as Zoro believed in himself. The possibilities were endless. One distraction - addition - to his life was something he could handle. 

Then Zoro stumbled upon you and having just one more distraction didn’t seem all that bad.

 Suddenly, being the world’s greatest swordsman wasn’t all he wanted. 

He wanted you too.

The universe seemingly conjured you into existence - a magical pain in his ass. The more he’d tried to deny his feelings, the more annoyingly louder they grew. If fate was real, it had a terrible sense of humor - reminding Zoro a little too often that even the best-laid plans carried detours.  

Neither of you was willing to admit that the universe seemed to be playing a cruel joke. The universal bingo card the two of you carried, chock-full of goals and aspirations, and not a single mention of…well, not a mention of either of you were on it. 

Zoro didn’t believe in fates. Magical beings who dictated your future and the outcomes of your life and the supposed powers they wielded in who entered and left. He could be incredibly stubborn. You called him hard-headed. He just liked to think of it as knowing what he wanted. The universe proved to beat him at his own stubborn game, however. He’d been a fool to try and reject what everyone saw, but Zoro and you…the two of you felt it. 

Falling in love with you had been as easy as breathing.

He tried to deny it for so long - his tunnel vision widening just to catch glimpses of you - bright and warm and alive to cast sunshine into the hollowest parts of him. The ones he’d left empty ever since Kuina died. He protected himself from having to feel that overwhelming feeling of grief again. No matter what anyone said, it never got better. It didn’t get easier. You just slowly learned to live with the empty space their loss created and, because of this, Zoro never allowed people to get too close. 

His drinking kept him languid and carefree.  

Zoro didn’t believe in magic. 

It wasn’t in his nature to believe in things he couldn’t see - couldn’t feel their weight in the palms of his hands to make or break his world. The very idea of magic alone was the biggest unseen force he could think of. But when you looked at him, cheeks rosy with a blush he gave you, he swore he’d become a believer. The world was brighter, anything was possible, and the stars in your reflected a constellation of every step you’d ever taken that led you to one another.

He didn’t think it was possible for his world to shift - to change - all over again until that night in your room. 

Zoro stood there paralyzed - transfixed. Cool, remain cool were the words that darted through his head but how could he? He’d spent all day endlessly teasing you. Every chance he got to bump against you, shamelessly removing his shirt just to feel the hunger of your gaze slid over his skin, or to dip his hands low, impossibly lower, was a chance he had to take. Just to make your cheeks flush that pretty pink hue that was just for him. 

He wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t miss the heat that shimmered underneath. How could he miss it when he’d felt it too? The pleasure in knowing he was the cause for every heavy breath that rose in your chest. Pupils blown wide and body preening at his touch. No matter the breath that stuttered out of you or the looks you gave, Zoro remained in control. 

Perfect. Control.

Until he’d opened his door to find you covered only in a towel, droplets cascading down your skin and those eyes - god your eyes - looking at him like that. 

Cool. Play it fucking cool. 

He’d repeated it to himself over and over. A mantra that wasn’t much of a mantra because he was failing miserably. Even after he admitted he’d been waiting to hear you make it safely back to your room. He would’ve left it at that - teasing you one more time to have that good ol’ blush of yours see him off to bed. But then his eyes caught the way your hands protectively tightened on the towel. 

The way you self-consciously hide the worst of the damage that Arlong - that fucking fishman - and his men had done. You tried so fucking hard to make everyone believe you were okay. The wounds on your body practically all but healed, while some were slowly beginning to show they’d remain as scars. He worried that you’d see yourself as less because of it. How could he get you to see that your scars were beautiful because those scars meant that you were still here. With him. 

But Zoro knew the scars that plagued you the heaviest were in your mind. 

You thought you were less because of them but, god you were so much more because of them. And suddenly, hiding inside the safety of his room didn’t matter anymore. 

Zoro had to show you - make you understand - how remarkable you were. Arlong and his men could never take away the way his breath still caught - trapped and frantic - in his throat every time he looked at you. You’d been doing it since that first night at Kaya’s: his eyes held prisoner as his gaze helplessly followed your every move.

Even when you were a brat and stole his glass of wine.

He didn’t think it was possible for the feelings that brewed behind the safety of his walls could get worse. To overwhelm and flood his senses until what little common sense he had left evaporated completely. 

He was wrong. 

That night, Zoro learned the only thing prettier than your blush was the sounds you made. Just for him. 

Always for him.

He knew everything changed that night in your room. And how could it not? The desire to touch you, show you with his mouth, his body, all of him, every piece of himself that you’d claimed, just how much you were a part of him. How deeply you’d woven yourself into the fabric of his being, hollowed out his bones, and made a home. 

There was an unmistakable connection Zoro felt towards you. It was something new that he’d never felt. He didn’t know what to call it. Love? How could one word seem to hold so much weight? The power to plant flowers in the garden of his rage or completely shatter it. There was no fucking in between and that was frightening. 

Fucking terrifying

Zoro couldn’t formulate words to describe the invisible teether that coiled around you both. Or the fear it created. A terror like a serpent that constricted tighter and tighter around his heart, more and more with every passing second. If Arlong could take you. If he could…you almost…

No no, don't fucking think it! Don’t speak it. 

The reality was it could happen again. 

The fear of someone taking you - hurting you -  became all too real. 

He’d almost lost you. 

Zoro would never admit to it. Say it out loud or allow it any space during his waking day. But when he was asleep the fear threatened to slip through his control. It formed itself into nightmares that painted out every outcome that could’ve happened in vivid detail. Painted in tragic detail into the whites of his eyes on how close he’d come to saying goodbye. 

Save me… pirate hunter…

He had saved you, hadn’t he? 

That day haunts his waking hours even now. It’s what wrestles him awake even with your head tucked underneath his chin, his arm draped across your back, and the steady beating of your heart pulsing against his chest. He’d arrived busting through Arlong’s gate with Luffy and crew, his breath caught in his throat not knowing what they’d find. 

What greeted him was the last thing Zoro thought he’d find. Your body, crucified, arms painfully splayed to make a perfect T shape. Gore. It was the only way his mind could describe it - screaming at him not to look. You were a decorated gory masterpiece. All the light and sunshine of who you were was dimmed in a blanket of blood. The stench of burned flesh clung to his nose the way the taste of chopper lodged itself in the back of his throat. 

You seemed so lifeless. So fucking lifeless. Zoro felt his knees threaten to give out on him in seconds. You couldn’t be alive. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he listened as the chains chimed at your movement. A fucked up wind chime of dread and hope that carried on the wind and told him all he needed to know. 

You were alive. 

Zoro could still save you. With that knowledge blacking out all reason, Zoro created hell inside the walls of Arlong Park. He would do it over and over, becoming a demon, a king of monsters,  to burn down the world if it meant saving you. 

And yet…it almost hadn’t been enough. 

There were times Zoro wondered if this is how you felt as you watched him give himself up to Mihawke. He could still remember the look of agony that bloomed across your face. The way it stole the spark Zoro loved to see in your eyes, bleeding them dry until all that was left was an emptiness that he gave you.  

Zoro had willingly gone to death. 

And you saved him. 

You cared for him even then - when he didn’t deserve it - after everything he’d done to try and prove to you, and himself, that the universe was wrong. It was just a sick joke to believe that fate itself had woven you both from such different clothes to somehow make each other whole. Zoro gnashed his teeth, swore, and fought his own demons to try and prove he didn’t need you - want you - but he’d been a goner the second he opened the guest room door. 

Plus, it didn’t hurt that you packed one hell of a punch. 

Zoro could still feel your knuckles connecting perfectly on his nose. The impact of it shocked him so hard it’s what caused him to lose his grip on the well. It was a damn good hit. 

He’d woken up to the emptiness of a bed Zoro shared with you. In the privacy of the cabin you both now called home, Zoro would admit dread tied his stomach in knots. That it spurred his legs to swing over the edge of the bed and his hands to furiously move around the room looking for clothes. All thoughts he used to have about pretending he wasn’t looking for you - searching for you - when he always had been, dissipated with his next breath. 

Even still… Zoro had almost died and came back more or less himself. Deep down, however, In the dark recesses of his mind, a nagging voice reminded him endlessly that something was… off. Something was wrong. 

Wrong with you.

Zoro hated that he even entertained the thought. In the privacy of his own head, it still felt like a betrayal. A dishonor of the trust you’d placed with him. He tried to knock the thoughts away because now wasn’t the fucking time. You were missing – again – in the middle of the night. He had to find you but no matter how hard he knocked away the nagging thoughts of growing questions, the voices persisted.  

Nami was the first to notice, which wasn’t surprising. She was always carefully crafting plans and backup plans with backups to the backup plans if those fell through. Zoro came to understand the second they stepped into a room, that Nami was twelve steps ahead of everyone else. Her eyes scanned the room for marks - the weakest links in the chain of command - so that was why it wasn’t surprising, not in the least, that Nami noticed the oddities about your recent behavior first. 

“She’s doing it again.” “Doing what again?” Every time Nami brought it up, Zoro couldn’t keep the irritation from shifting heavily in his tone. The annoyance at throwing around large sacks of grain that the waiter just had to have turned his mood even more sour. More than the fact Usopp somehow magically disappeared from having to help load all of this below deck.  Zoro followed Nami’s gaze until it landed on you. A hand wrapped around the rope of one of the sails with your eyes turned out towards the sea. Zoro imagined a passing ship would think you were a statue the way you barely moved. Shit, he even started to worry if you were even breathing. Unlucky for them, this wasn’t the first time you’d started doing this. Your eyes focused out on the ocean, almost as if you were searching either the water or somewhere farther.  “She’s just looking at the waves.” “No,” Nami replied, a shake in her head reflecting the word. Just the one word alone held a lifetime of worry as her eyes cautiously watched your head tilt. A motion that spoke volumes of words being carried on the wind and you were listening. “It’s like she’s hearing something, or someone, speaking.” “Yeah, it’s the sound of the birds above us. I think they’re called seagulls,” Zoro shot back.  Zoro didn’t know why he needed to protest their concerns so much. Zoro had his own but when it came to you a protectiveness he couldn’t fathom seized every last available brain cell. Their words sent his body immediately to defend you even though Nami’s concerns only voiced the ones he was too afraid to say himself.  His words earned him a glare from Nami as she moved next to him. A hand playfully smacked his shoulder, but her eyes never strayed from you.  “No, you asshole, not the birds. It’s like someone is… talking to her.”

Zoro had thought Nami was crazy. She had to be. You were fine. She was just being a protective mother hen again, which she’d promised you she wouldn’t do anymore. The look on his face must have said the same thing causing her eyes to narrow in on him all before her chin jutted out towards your direction. He wanted to call Nami crazy, but when Zoro glanced back at where you stood, your head was cocked further to the side. Your lips parted, eyes focused, like you were about to reply. 

A few days after that incident on the deck you began talking in your sleep. It started off as grumbles and grunts until it graduated to lazy words and, finally, short sentences that burst from between your lips in reply. Sometimes though, the voice that came out of you… it didn’t sound like your own. The words hissing and breaking from your lips in jagged whispers that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. 

The worst part was, if Zoro asked you, you’d never remember or know you’d done it. Zoro had promised to save you, and he had. So, why did he feel like he’d been too late?  

And that thought alone is what startled him awake. 

Zoro finally located a pair of pants that he’d thrown haphazardly in his earlier haste to get into bed. Your scent was still pressed into the sheets - pressed into his skin. It was enough to inform him you’d been there beside him. He hadn’t been dreaming - not that he would since you’d both agreed that him sleeping over in your room just made sense. 

He didn’t bother putting on his boots. The only thing he made sure to grab was the Wado Ichimonji that rested on his side of the bed. You’d strictly forbidden him from sleeping with it in the actual bed after you woke up with the hilt pressed against your ribs. 

The sheets had long since gone cold and that told him wherever you’d gone, it’d been a while since you’d left. Zoro wasn’t known for having tact or being quiet. If he was being honest, Nami often called him a brute and she wasn’t incredibly far off. He didn’t have any plans to quietly walk out of the bedroom or make his footsteps dainty soft like a whisper. He didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

He didn’t bother wasting time looking for you in the kitchen. There had only been a handful of times he’d caught you bravely traipsing around the waiter's kitchen. Banging his beloved pots and pans around like you had a death wish. Zoro wasn’t too keen on hearing him bitch later about the sanctity of a man’s kitchen and his utensils after Sanji had caught you. Zoro was, however, willing to admit the food you’d prepared that night tasted a thousand times sweeter knowing Sanji would be having a heart attack about it later. 

No. By now, Zoro knew there was one place and one place only that he would find you. 

With the swaying of the ship under his feet, Zoro made his way towards the stern. The Wado clutched tightly in his fist in a weak attempt to keep him grounded. He ran a hand through the mossy haphazard strands of his hair in hopes of soothing its messy state but knew he was only making it worse. His fingers tugging too violently like he could rip his thoughts out by the roots. 

There was nothing he should be worried about - you were fine. He was going to walk up those stairs and find you just enjoying the night breeze. It was what he needed to see because he didn’t know what to say if he didn’t find you standing there. How he could fix it if you weren’t admiring a view; waiting to share whatever was on your mind. 

One by one he released his hair from his fingers. The ache of his scalp was enough to help focus him back into the present. To ground him just enough for when his eyes finally landed on your frame. 

You weren’t standing at the edge of the stern, safely behind its railing like he imagined, or admiring the view of the midnight water. Instead, your legs were precariously over the side of the Merry. So painfully close to the edge that one wrong move, a simple shift in the wind or the way you were sitting, and you’d simply go over. 

An image of you going over, a sudden flash of your body disappearing into the darkness below, sent his steps widening, eager to reach you. To close the remaining distance between you, as if it would ever be enough to keep you there.

His bare feet thundered loudly across the remaining feet that were left between the two of you. The heavy thumping scraped away whatever chance he had at catching you off guard. The sound alone should’ve been enough to draw your attention but when he arrived at the edge of the banister, one hand holding on to the ashen wood while the other curled around your shirt - his shirt. After all this, you still hadn’t acknowledged him. 

Your eyes were locked on a horizon of midnight - obsidian, endless, with promises of nightmares etched out of brimstone lying underneath. Your head tilted, just like before, just like it always was, listening to something none of them could hear. 

Zoro wasn’t much of a praying man, but he found himself silently making one as he sucked in a breath. 

“It's a little late for a midnight stroll, don’t you think, Snowdrop?”

You weren’t surprised Zoro found you. 

You knew he would. Since the minute you woke up in bed curled up beside him, an arm tucked behind his head while the other draped itself loosely over your shoulders, pressing you closer, that once you left he’d be up. Maybe not right away, but it will happen. Gradually or all at once. 

Even in his sleep, Zoro searched for you. His fingers stroked the curve of an arm; swirling into the crease of an elbow. His nose buried itself in your hair or the sensitive spot just under your ear. Zoro searched for you as vigorously in his sleep as he did while he was awake. 

You expected him to come find you. It wasn’t a surprise when the sound of padding feet on cured wood imploded the silence you’d come in search of finding. His presence was unforgiving heat across your skin. Unspoken questions hanging between you. A part of you prayed he would ask them. Another part of you hoped he didn’t. 

Maybe that was the voice that made you wish he hadn’t found you. That Zoro had stayed blissfully asleep enjoying the blanket of restful sleep instead of the restlessness of whatever you now had to offer. The thought gnawed on your nerves, brewing an annoyance that soured the comfort you’d found looking into the vast darkness of the waves. 

During the day, everything was bright and inviting. The sea most of all. Its multitude of hands that rolled against ships and overlapped wave after wave to create a white froth was a silent beacon to come explore. It promised relief from the scorching heat of the sun and an endless supply of food to fill a starving sailor. Underneath all of that brightness, however, you could feel the darkness that took shape in the form of monsters underneath. Sea beasts that swallowed entire ships with crews. Sirens seducing men and women from their beds with a song - pulling them screaming, lungs heavy with water, down into the deep. 

It was this darkness that began to call to you. A disease that infiltrated your body slowly, without warning so as not to cause alarm, until it completely plagued every sleepless hour. You weren’t aware it’d been happening until the third night you’d woken to the spray of the ocean on your face. You found yourself standing on the rail of the ship. The threat of a harsh wave possibly sending you over was imminent. Yet there you stood, your arms splayed out at your sides, waiting for an embrace that hadn’t come. Yet, when you opened your eyes it wasn’t terror that turned to ice in your veins. You knew the ocean wouldn’t claim you.

It couldn’t. 

You didn’t belong to this graveyard. You belonged to something else. There was a power that resonated below the murky depths. A force that felt ancient and terrifying. It felt like it created the dark; and devoured it until it became whole again and again. It writhed and moaned like the damned, as it searched for more life, more souls, to devour and own. This blackness demanded worship like an old god and that same darkness was what called to you now.  

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be: a sacrifice or a sacrificer. But one thing was clear. Whatever it was, it was inside of you and it was calling you home. 

Naan strived to make sure she was careful - that you were careful. She shared warnings in the forms of stories and fairytales as a child to soften the terrifying meaning that lay underneath. All this time she painstakingly put in to make you understand and, in the flash of a second, it took less time for you to choose Nazifa’s life over your own. 

It’s what Naan had taught you to do: protect others. How could she ever think, or believe, that you made the wrong choice? How could you regret saving someone’s life? Saving people was who you were, who Naan raised you to be, down to the very marrow of your bones. 

Naan’s trade was never forced on you. She never held you back from thoughts of going to school, leaving the island, or if you wanted to learn a different trade. It was always very clear it was your choice to spend hours in the garden and in the forest scrounging for ingredients. Your choice in agonizing over the creation of your book of remedies. It felt natural. Your whole purpose is wrapped up in easing the pain of the dying and the chill of the sick. 

But this darkness…it touched what was yours. It cascaded oil thick, blackening the seas of your memories. The shared dances in Naan’s kitchen as she taught you how to move across the floor, ‘like a young lady’. The spring in her gardens, surrounded by bergamot and cardamom. 

Every last memory of joy and hope and happiness was suffocated until the only thing left were nightmares. This darkness – this sickness – writhed under your skin. It changed who you believed you were, who Naan loved and cared for you to be, and stripped it all away. 

Brick by brick every belief you held was knocked loose and replaced by something grotesque; vile. It whispered ways to silently kill those you loved aboard the Merry. Townsfolk and villagers whenever you stopped for supplies. It slithered black chords of strength in your muscles, seizing your hands to tear apart and break dressers. The doorknob to Luffy’s room completely caved in as you struggled and fought to not take that final step inside. 

The voices were growing louder with each denial you gave them. Each life you refused to take - each villager you saved instead of maimed - turned them rabid. The whispers grow into shrieks:

Belladonna to strip a man of pride and the air from his lungs - closing up his throat with froth and screams. Mosswood burns the mouth and twists the gut making them turn liquid.

‘We can break them. Grind their bones into dust. Lay it like powder on our skin. Let us make them putrid! Skin soft and pliable like pudding - flesh that caves at the touch. One touch from us, from you, OUR TOUCH,  and we can rot them from the inside out. Listen as their tongue turns liquid and they gurgle liquid sweet! Let us rot them! LET. US. ROT. THEM!’

It whispered and screamed until you thought you would go mad. It took every ounce of willpower you struggled to hold on to your sanity. Not to claw at your ears. As if it would ever be enough to make the whispers just stop. 

Something inside you came back wrong. You were wrong. You thought about the possibility that you might be imagining it. This call of chaos - of sinister dread - swirled inside of you like a whirlpool threatening to suck everything down around you. The more you tried to ignore it, the louder it grew. The voices were no longer murmuring - their words were convoluted - gargled as if held underwater. 

Now they were screaming, demanding to be heard, and they were always the loudest when you were sleeping.

You were so lost, so completely lost, consumed with your thoughts, these fucking voices, that you weren’t sure when your body turned to face him. Maybe Zoro had asked you a question or been asking questions. The usual mask of careless indifference he wore was there, but it was easy to spot the worry that etched itself into the fine lines around his eyes. 

His brow creased, drawn tight, which reflected the dark panic that was pooling to the surface in his eyes. If you didn’t answer him soon he was going to shake an answer out of you. Just to hear something. 

What could you say? 

“Do you hear them too? They’re whispering for me to do things and the more I ignore them, the more their fingers seem to dig holes in my mind.”

No. 

You couldn’t ask him that. It sounded crazy. You would sound crazy, and maybe you were. This whole thing felt like a waking nightmare. You thought you could keep it at bay as you attempted to work through it. There had to be a scientific explanation for something like this or at least a psychological one.

Death came to claim you. You’d felt the clutch of cold hands eager to drag you away, drag you down into the earth kicking and screaming. It felt greedy. Excited. 

But you came back. 

Maybe this madness was a form of penance. Maybe this truly was what it was: madness. 

You couldn’t look at him anymore as you tried to swallow the bitter truth down. Underneath, however, you knew you lived in a fantastical world where boys were made of rubber, Devil Fruits existed, and so did magic. 

But what did that make you? You with your voices of chaos. 

Death bringer, They whispered, clamoring against your skull. 

What if the part of you…the dark part Naan always feared would consume you, festered like a cordycep eating its way through your soul until there was nothing left? What if it ate and ate until you were just…gone? The only thing left was an imposter who’d taken your place.

The thought was enough to make your mouth desert dry. Your heart clamoring against the ribs in your chest demanding for you to take it back! You weren’t being eaten starting from the soul and outwards. You were in control. Perfect control. 

“I’m okay.” The words croaked around an unused throat forcing you to clear it and try again. “I’m okay.”

“Who are you trying to make believe that? You? Or me?”

When Zoro looked at you, like he did now, all the world grew quiet. The sound of the ocean, her waves, and the lapping at the hull of the ship all died away. It was harder to catch a breath, the air denser somehow, as everything came grinding to a halt. 

The only thing that mattered in this moment, in every moment, now and always, was the way he looked at you. But the moment didn’t last - it couldn’t - when the current underneath your feet began to pound against the hull of the ship. A seismic rhythm that vibrated through your body in earth-shattering ferocity. 

You looked out across the water around you and found her unchanged. Her waves thrashed at their own speed to collide against the Merry before they rested back down into the murky midnight of the water. 

“Zoro, do you feel that?”

The need for confirmation that it wasn't just you who felt this primal call was palpable. You grasped at whatever reasoning made sense but there was none. A sharp sting on your fingertips brought a hiss of pain from your lips. Your eyes darted down to find that same inky blackness that had burned the flesh of the face of the fishman like acid was crawling up your arms. You tried to swat it away as a fresh flood of panic gripped you. 

“Zoro!”

Your eyes flew up to look for him beside you. You wanted to reach for him - you needed him to hold onto you - but if you touched him would you hurt him? Would you kill him? 

Fear and panic constricted your throat turning your next sentence into a delirious garble of words. All attempts at civility and calmness ended when your vision centered on his body next to yours. Zoro was covered in the thick black ink - your darkness. You heard the sizzling of muscle and tissue melting away. The wet sound of flesh hitting the deck. You watched as a piece of his cheek, the top of his eyelid, slid down his face as his hand reached out for you. 

“It’s going to be okay, Snowdrop.”

The horror of what you were seeing grabbed a hold of your throat and worked the earlier sounds free. It knocked them back down to be digested to allow them to come back up at something brand new. 

A scream housed from despair and grief tore through your body and released itself there on that deck. A panicked heart filled with regret left you shattering into a million pieces and it wasn’t until you were sitting up in bed, thrashing around in the sheets of your shared bed, that you realized it was all just a dream. 

Your eyes bolted open but the frantic terror that left your heart thundering in your chest was still there. It made you search the room like crazy, grasping for things that were real. 

Zoro was standing by your desk. His hands fastened the last button of his shirt while a cool set of eyes watched over you. It was then you felt how your body was coated in sweat; your hair clinging to your neck and cheeks. The shirt you’d worn to bed sticking in thick hot clumps against your skin. 

“What happened,” you rasped. 

Zoro finished with his shirt but didn’t make a move to answer. The Wado was secured at his hip and you watched him drop a now free hand onto the hilt. A comfort you could only assume he needed as he showed no immediate sign of replying. 

After a long pause, Zoro let out a sigh as he moved towards the bedroom door. 

“I found you sleepwalking on deck. Again,” he replied. His voice was all smoke and velvet. It should’ve brought you comfort hearing him, but it wasn’t hard to notice the cracks that formed around his words. “This is the eleventh time you’ve woken up screaming, Doc.”

“Zoro–“

“After we get supplies at our next stop I’m asking Luffy if we can turn around.”

He spoke to the door. The decision he was making seemingly cost him his own grief as your own. You threw the sheets back. Your legs scrambled to make it over the side of the bed before he could completely exit the room. 

“Turn around for what?”

You wanted to sound tough, demanding even. Instead, you just sounded small. Scared. Your mouth dried up around every word, every sentence, you tried to formulate. The sick idea that he was trying to say goodbye, to let you go, making it damn near impossible to even breathe around a thought. 

“To find someone willing to give me some answers.”

Zoro didn’t wait for you to reply with the usual weak promise of telling him. It was only when you were ready to share and that could be never. He was tired of waiting and didn’t bother to wait to hear an even weaker response before Zoro walked out the door and quietly shut it behind him. 

As always, thank you all so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated.

Taglist: @honeyoru @oneandonlyizabelle @shanshan4143 @naomihatake @tombraiderjones2505 @illusory-segurity @hippieele @nadlx33333 @fancifulrealist @litlebruh @jonnelpunk

[alotofpockets]

Regret | Alexia Putellas x Reader & Leah Williamson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Where Alexia regrets breaking up with you.

A/n: happiest of birthdays to @greynatomy 💗 Also pretend that everything in italics is actually said in spanish :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k

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You checked your phone when you got back to the locker room after practice. The name you were hoping to see wasn’t among your notifications, so you dropped it back in your pocket with a sombre look. Leah noticed the action she had repeatedly seen over the past couple of days, and decided that she had waited long enough to not ask questions. “Movie night at my place tonight.” By the way she didn’t say it in the form of a question, you knew there was no getting out of this. “Fine, but you’re ordering pizza.” Leah smiled, having achieved what she wanted, “You know I would never say no to pizza.” 

That’s how you found yourself in front of the apartment you knew all too well. When you moved from Barcelona to England just six months ago, Leah had taken you in for the first few weeks, until you found a place in London. Your national teammate Laia had offered as well, but as much as you loved her you took the bed offered by Leah over the offer of her couch. Which ended up being a great decision because you and Leah got close right away, and you would call her one of your best friends currently. You check your phone once more, hoping for that one name to show up, but it wasn’t there so you used the spare key to let yourself into Leah’s place.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Leah yelled out from her bedroom. You quickly put a fake smile on your face when you heard her walking towards you. Leah pretended to not notice for now, and greeted you like nothing happened. She hoped that in the comfort of a one on one hang out you would open up to her on your own, but when you were half way through the movie, and you still hadn’t said anything, she decided that she had given you enough time to come to her. So, the next time your phone buzzed, and your face fell without opening the notification, she paused the movie. “Okay, what’s going on?” You look anywhere but at her, “Nothing is going on Lee, let’s just watch the movie.” 

However, Leah wasn’t going to move on so quickly. “You keep checking your phone, and then looking disappointed, and don’t tell me I’m wrong because I’ve been noticing it all week. Please just tell me what’s going on. Is it Ale?” Your eyes snapped up at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. The broken look behind them said enough for Leah to know that it had everything to do with Alexia. “What did she do? Do I need to fly to Barca to knock some sense into her?” You sigh in frustration, “It isn’t exactly what she did, it’s what she hasn’t done.” Leah was ready to listen and nodded for you to continue. “So, she’s barely spoken to me all week. No video calls, or regular calls, just a couple texts here and there. I keep trying to have a normal conversation with her, and I just get short answers. I’ve asked if she’s okay, and she just keeps saying that everything is fine.” Tears well in your eyes. “It’s not fine though. It can’t be fine, if she’s literally shutting me out.” 

Your phone lights up in the middle of your conversation, and both of you stare at the message that popped up on your screen. 

Alexia: Can we talk?

The dreaded message that you were expecting to receive in the back of your mind. Though you didn’t know the extent of the talk she wanted to have, you knew it couldn’t mean something good after this week. “Are you okay?” Leah put her hand on your knee. “No I’m not, but let’s just get this call over with.” She nodded in understanding, with a squeeze of your knee she got up. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Y/n: Sure, call me

In the back of your mind you knew exactly what this conversation was going to result in, Alexia had been pulling away from you, so there was only one logical outcome of this call for you. You picked up the video call, “Hey.” You left out all nicknames, not wanting to put in unnecessary effort, plus it’s not like she said 'hi' before asking you if you could talk. “Hi y/n, oh you’re not home, we can just talk later.” It felt like a stab in your chest, hearing her use your first name. With a shake of your head you say, “It’s fine, let’s just get this over with, Ale.” 

Alexia started shuffling around nervously. “I’m sorry to do this over a call, but I think we need to break up.” There it was, the words you had seen coming, but still hurt more than you could have imagined. You stared blankly at your screen, not really knowing what to say. Alexia understood, and continued talking. “It’s just been hard on me to do this whole distance thing. There’s a lot going on, and I just need you here by my side. I know I can’t ask you to move back, because you deserve to play at your dream club. So, I think that what’s best for me right now is for us to let each other go.” Tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “Why is the first I’m hearing of this while you’re breaking up with me? I thought communication was so important to you. How long have you been feeling this way?” There was an anger to your tone that made Alexia not be able to keep eye contact. “I didn’t come to this decision rashly, if that’s what you’re asking.” You blink away the tears, your sadness making room for anger. “How long, Alexia?” You stared at her angrily until you got an answer. “About a month.” 

“You are unbelievable. How could you just not say anything? You literally didn’t even give us a fighting chance.” The tears were back. “I’m sorry.” Alexia said softly. “Save your sorrys, they’re not going to fix this.” She nodded, “I know.” You close your eyes, “I guess this is it then.” With a defeated sigh you open your eyes again. “I’m really sorry.” You roll your eyes, “Save it. I’m going to hang up now, I need some space.” With a shaking finger you pressed the end call button without giving Alexia a chance to respond. 

After giving yourself a minute you make your way over to Leah’s room, which you enter after a soft knock. You found her sitting with her headphones on, even though she didn’t understand Spanish, she still wanted to give you your space, which you appreciated. Leah didn’t need to hear you say the words, she could read on your face that it was exactly what you had been thinking. “Oh love, come here.” She patted the bed and opened her arms. You laid down without a second thought, and let her hold you tight. In the comfort of her arms, your tears flowed freely. 

You stayed the night at Leah’s, you didn’t have to ask, and she didn’t have to offer, it just was. Leah had fallen asleep a while ago. You were glad that you weren’t ruining her sleep as well, because you had an early wake up call for a match in the morning. Your mind kept running circles. Three years down the drain like it was nothing, how could she just break-up with you without ever voicing her troubles? 

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep though, because Leah gently shook you awake. “Hey, I’ve got breakfast ready.” You send her a questioning look, Leah didn’t cook. “Okay fine, you’ve got me. Lia picked up breakfast on the way over.” With a small smile you get up and follow her to the kitchen. By the way Lia held you just a little longer in the hug, you knew that Leah had told her. “Stop it Wally, you're going to make me cry.” You didn't mind Leah telling her, cause it meant that it would be one less person you would have to tell yourself. “Thank you for the food, but I'm not really hungry.” Lia nodded, “Okay, I'll just pack some of it up for you then, you're gonna have to eat something before the match.” You knew she was right, so you let her pack up some food, and add it to your backpack, while you slumped down on the couch.

Lia and Leah were talking in the kitchen, while you were staring at the living room ceiling. Your phone dings with a new message, and out of habit you check it right away. The name you so desperately wanted to see pop up all week, now made your stomach turn, and your heart clench.

Alexia: I'm really sorry, I never meant to hurt you. 

You threw your phone in frustration, the device landing on the floor with a loud tud, making Leah enter the room right away. “What's wrong?” Leah picks up the phone and checks if it's okay in the process. “Fucking Alexia clearly doesn't understand what needing space means.” Leah rolled her eyes, “She never learned to listen, did she?” In the short time that Leah had known you, she had heard you complain about the little communication things Alexia lacked to improve on many times. 

Lia entered the living room, “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to head out or we're going to miss the bus.” You grab your bag and head to the front door, without a care for your phone, so Leah pockets it in case you would want it later. Lia headed to the driver's seat, and you took the back, letting Leah sit in front with Lia. You were down, and did not want to pull either one of them down with you, especially not before a match.

You arrived at London Colney for a final pre-match meeting to go over the tactics. Usually, once you arrived you mingled with your teammates, but now you stuck to Leah's side like a lost puppy. Arsenal had taken you in as a part of their own right from the start, you loved the family vibe the team had, and often found yourself amongst the jokers in the group. Today however when a hyper looking Kyra and Beth made their way over, you didn't budge when they tried to pull you away. “What’s up with you, party pooper?” Beth asks with a furrowed brow. “Ale broke up with me, are you happy now?” You snapped at the striker, loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. With widened eyes you apologise to Beth, before you walk out of the room, not being able to handle all your teammates staring at you with pity. Beth wanted to follow you to apologise, but Leah stopped her. “It’s okay, just let her be for a moment.”

After a few minutes you entered the room again, so the meeting could start. “I’m sorry.” Beth whispers, as you sit down next to her. You lean your head on her shoulder, “No, I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arm around you for the duration of the meeting, hoping to offer some comfort.

On the bus towards the stadium you were playing at today you sat by yourself in the front row, while the rest of the team sat together in the back, still needing a bit of space. Once the bus started driving, Leah walked up to the front. “I’m fine, Lee.” You said before even letting her say anything. “I know you are, just thought you would like these for the drive.” She handed you her headphones and her phone. “Thank you.” You appreciated her and her thoughtfulness, having her phone to play music would mean no messages from Alexia popping up.

Your anger towards Alexia showed in your playing style that match, you were more aggressive, and sliding in any time you could. At one point Leah had to tell you to take it easy, but you managed to get away without any cards, and the team won the match.

The next few weeks you had to get over Alexia. You didn’t want to live in the bubble of sadness that the breakup had created around you. It helped not being in the same country as her, not being able to just walk into her, and also your surroundings not having her written all over them. You spend a lot of your time with your Arsenal teammates, weekly bonding nights with the whole team, and random outings with one group or another. 

When international break was around the corner, you felt confident in saying you were mostly over Alexia. Sure, some things still hurt you, but in your mind you could still be affected by something even though you were over your ex.

Laia was sitting next to you at the airport gate when the rooming schedule was shared in the group, you scanned for your name, and realised they had kept you with Alexia just like last camp. Laia must’ve seen it too, because without having to mention anything, she told you she would get it sorted. She got her roommate to switch with you, so you would room with Laia for this camp.

When you arrived at the Spanish training grounds, you were happy to see your teammates again, but seeing Alexia amongst them was definitely a mood crusher. You tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, and just ignore and avoid her, so you would be able to enjoy the time with your friends. You were mostly able to do that, for about an hour. That is when Alexia came knocking on your door. Laia is the one to open, “Hey, is y/n here?” You didn’t want to put Laia in the middle of your issues with Alexia, so you walked to the door. “What do you want?” Her eyes diverted to the ground, “Can we talk for a moment?” You didn’t want to talk, but knew that it was probably for the best, if you were going to be at the same location for the upcoming two weeks, as well as playing together. So, you close the door behind you and follow her to an empty room in the building. 

It stayed silent for a few minutes, long awkward minutes in your experience, but you weren’t going to start whatever conversation Alexia wanted to have. So, you waited for Alexia to speak up while inspecting every uninteresting thing in the room. “Y/n, I really messed up. I miss you, I should have never broken up with you. I should’ve fought for us, I wish I fought for us. Can I still fight for us?” You couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You really hurt me, Alexia. I don’t think you understand how much pain you’ve caused me.” Alexia steps towards you, “Trust me, I do understand. I’ve been miserable over this.” You take a step back right away, “If you understood, you wouldn’t be asking me for a second chance. I can never trust you the way I did before. You didn’t fight for us when you needed to. We are over Ale, there no longer is an us to fight for.” And with that you left the room. 

The week of training before the two friendlies you would play went by fast. You avoided Alexia as much as possible, but during training exercises you set aside your differences because football was a team effort, and you didn’t want your personal situation to affect the team’s results.

Your first friendly against Italy went down without a hitch, earning a final score of 4-1. You were however looking forward to your second friendly against England more. Not only playing against your Arsenal teammates Leah, Beth, Alessia, and Lotte, but also seeing them again. It hadn’t been that long ago of course, but since you were so close with the team, you were missing them dearly.

After a 2-2 draw you walked around the field shaking hands with the Lionesses, and found Leah on the field who you brought in for a hug. She kissed your cheek before Beth came flying in with a hug, but the moment wasn’t missed by Alexia who had been watching the interaction from the dugout. You had told her the two of you were over, but that interaction finalised it for her. You really weren’t hers anymore.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[sxorpiomooon]

HOW DO YOUR FRIENDS SEE YOU: PAC READING

paid readings(tarot and astrology)

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

helloooo, all you have to do is pick one of the shells teapot(oml I just realised shells is my name too) the one that you feel the most called towards and read what's written for that pac. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't, hope you have a great day<333

pile 1-

hello pile 1, this is an ambitious pile now isn't it. You are someone who when wants something believes that there is only option and that is getting is. You only care about winning and you only participate to win. Your friends might find it surprising and appreciable how you never give up. I think you've been through some hardships and yet you've managed to not back down. When you want something, you give it your all. You do not back down or look for alternatives you do it the way it's supposed to be, even better if you might ask me. Your friends see you as someone who's resilient you might love titles and competition? Your friends might feel as if you always feel a need to prove or establish yourself? I heard "to make yourself known" however I also see your friends feeling bad for you I heard "not everything has to be a competition and so stressful " they understand why you might feel the need to always prove yourself but your friends might want you to sometimes take a break from it they think that you make situations, people and yourself extremely stressful because of this. Your friends might want you to take a break from always wanting to win and to also back down when necessary I heard "catch a break". They might feel as if in wanting to always be better and prove yourself you constantly compare yourself to others and never feel like enough. My pile 1, i see your friends being very worried for you I keep picturing one girl in particular I wonder if this pile has friends that are silent instead of nagging but still make it known when they don't angry with something, I'm also getting childhood friends and curly hair.

pile 2-

hello to my pile 2!! Some of you either talk too much/interrupt others excitedly while talking or your friends urgently want to keep saying or telling you something but stop. I think your friends feel as if you burdened by something they have no idea about? They don't know what to do. Your friends see you as someone who's come a long way I heard "heavy is the head that wears the crown" someone who's achieved so much with their hardwork and passion but at the same time now have too much on their shoulders. Pile 2, do you have a habit of taking on other people's responsibilities? The intentions in this pile feel a bit weird for some reason. This might not be related to this but I'm getting that you should only take on responsibilities that are yours? Don't take on other people's burden. There is also some financial situation here your friends might see you as someone who's stingy about their money and possession but rightfully so even tho it might piss them off sometimes I think they understand. Haha, has this pile recently achieved something big? Your friends and family feel extremely proud of everything that you've accomplished and if you guys need to hear this, they do want to help you out so if you have been hesitating go for it. I see your friends and family celebrating you I keep seeing a party very happy vibe a girl in orange something crochet or knit sweater?

pile 3-

do y'all forget stuff while talking about it or zone out? Bc I stopped in the middle of the question while shuffling my cards OUT OF NOWHERE 😭😭 my dear pile 3 I hope y'all are doing ok? I immediately got drink some water? Has something happened between you and your friends or you in general? The cards don't look very positive this looks like a chaos to me. I shuffled for more cards and did get positive so perhaps that message was just for the few of you. To the people that actually are going through something with their friends, it will pass it is a time of bad luck that was meant to happen I am so sorry and please keep holding on and drink alot of water it'll pass soon. For the ones who are not lmao your friends see you as someone who brings joy wherever they go I see this pile and their friends being very spontaneous and crazy this is like the squad that's always laughing had a vision of someone in the mall in front of the mirror? Trying sunglasses. A few in this pile are extremely friendlike with their partner too. So much laughter this feels like y'all are living your lives I heard soulmate lmao. Have fun and for those who are not it'll pass<3

pile 4-

HELLLO this is the shell that I liked the most too so lets see AhHahahaha we got good cards pile 4 LETS GOOOO you might be the mother of the group or as I call myself the single divorced mother of the group bc of the stress and everything that you have to control. Your friends see you as someone who's extremely kind and giving I heard generous also someone who's like a mother figure. Someone who's nurturing in her ways and gentle. Someone who's always constantly leaving things that no longer serve them before to look for more. Your friends might believe that you have and serve a bigger purpose that where you are right now. This pile has friends that silently care and think about them alot but might not say or advice alot because there's this sort of "they already know way better than me" sort of thing. There is also something that your friends want you to let go off. Very good makes me feel very good.

Thankyouu!!

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝ENG translation] 'My Parents Gave Me a Strong Sense of Identity'

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin.

Original article written by Teja Roglič for Ona plus, published 05.11.2024. English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by @weolucbasu, proofread by IG Gboleyn123.

Full article and Spotify link under the cut 👇

🎧 Article available in audio form on Spotify.

Last year’s craze at Stožice, summer festival performances, the Eurovision Song Contest, international success. And then everyone asks, what could be bigger, what could be better? But as the band Joker Out releases their new album, they consciously follow the motto "I want less". Singer Bojan Cvjetićanin explains why: "This is our home, this is our base. If we don’t feel good at home, we can’t feel good anywhere. We need to rediscover love in our base, that’s what we told ourselves."

With the song Bluza, you’re returning to love. Why?

We went through a lot. The songs we released after Eurovision dealt with the most acute situational changes in our lives—touring, exhaustion, questioning ourselves. Now, it’s time to have a bit of fun again. And there's probably nothing more beautiful than being in love. (smiles)

I’ve been looking into people’s stories, into the lives of those around me, seeking beauty.

What did you discover?

That I enjoy writing about love the most. When you write from a place of uncertainty, it’s nice to get those feelings out; when you write about love, you search for timeless beats within yourself, not something that’s only fleeting. I write about the ideals of love I held as a child, and in the future, I’ll see how these have either evolved or fallen apart.

It's best to write about love...

When you have a broken heart.

Your Eurovision song was more socially critical, though it might seem, at first glance, to be about joy. In it, you say: "We won’t take part in your games or your divisions." Did the song’s message reach people?

Undoubtedly. A lot has changed in a year and a half, not only personally but also in terms of our views of social issues. For the first time, we've connected with young people from abroad. It was fascinating to see how connected the fans from different countries became, encouraging each other, learning new languages—even a lot of Slovene. The desire for peace and unity is very strong at our concerts, so our messages have touched them. But of course, you can never reach everyone. (smiles)

You mention changed perspectives with regards to society. Have any ideals been shattered?

Many ideals have crumbled. In school, learning about war, it always seemed odd to me that the world could just go on at the same time, despite the ongoing disruption in the system. Now, I see that we have access to all the information, that we see and hear what’s happening, that we witness an influx of people coming from regions where this is happening, yet everything literally carries on as usual.

War has become more of a trend on TikTok or Instagram than something people feel hurt about. This makes me very sad.

A lot of ideals that have shattered relate to the life of a musician. We’ve achieved things we could only have dreamed of—not just as kids; even two years ago, what’s happening now would have seemed impossible to me. But the ideal that’s crumbled is this one: I don’t always know how to appreciate what I have.

On tour, I often slipped into negative thoughts, didn’t appreciate everything happening to us. This links to the idea that this kind of life is easy, that as a successful musician, you only have fun. This, of course, isn’t true; it’s incredibly exhausting, both mentally and physically. I could go on until tomorrow, listing everything that’s fallen apart, but fortunately, a lot of new things have also come to be.

You’re the idols of generations; do you feel pressure because of that? After all, you’re still young guys too…

No. We already lost the childlike joy of music because we had to start working so much so early and get to know so many new systems. If we also take on the responsibility of raising generations of kids, we could truly fall into a black hole.

We need to be role models, but we can’t shape our work around that. On the upcoming album, there’s a song, 'Muzika za decu' ('Music for children'), which touches on this very point. We want to convey that we’re not addressing generations who think all younger people are lazy bums who only hinder the world’s progress. We’re addressing everyone who is young enough at heart to believe in a better world, a brighter tomorrow.

Photo: Vita Orehek

More and more musicians are stopping concerts at large venues when fans are in distress or overcrowding happens. You too?

Absolutely. This summer, we constantly stopped concerts if people were packed tightly indoors or out in the sun. We handed out a lot of water from the stage, and I even paused a concert if some listener (m.) was treating another listener (f.) disrespectfully. A concert is a safe space; there’s no place there for infringing on the rights of others.

That’s an interesting topic I wanted to touch on anyway. So what is the rock ‘n’ roll world of the new generation like?

It’s a lot better. I’m glad we’re not a group of drugged-out dudes living only for today. Carpe Diem really means seize the day, but for us, that doesn’t mean picking every fruit that exists in the world. Waking up healthy and energised, wanting to go to a concert, being open to meeting new people, our fans, being creative...

That’s what it means to seize the day. Sure, sometimes we go on a trip, we do have fun too. But I’m glad that sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll aren’t our guiding principles in the band. When we watched the documentary about Mötley Crüe, we saw how they started with heroin and opiates and ended with smoothies and fruit. Well, we’re already at the fruit and smoothies stage. (laughs)

“We’re constantly building a relationship that gets deeper every day, even though it seems like it can’t get any deeper,” you told me before the Stožice concert, as I was stunned when you said you were going on holiday with the guys right after the concert. How much do you invest in relationships within the band? We know it’s sometimes challenging to nurture a relationship between two people, let alone five.

This is like a partnership with five people. Except for intimacy, all the other elements of partnership are there. We’re companions. We often live together, work together; the dynamics are demanding. I talk a lot about this with fellow musicians. Recently, I was talking to Mr. Vlado Kreslin, and we concluded that being in a band requires a touch of madness.

Even if it ends someday—nothing is guaranteed—I know I have four lifelong friends. We exist as friends even beyond the band.

Success demands hard work; you’ve told me before how sure you were of your path in the band, of your decisions, and how hard you worked to achieve what you have. And we’re back to the topic that some might say your generation isn’t hardworking, that you’re quick to say what you won’t do at the work place...

The young people I know could hardly be described as not hardworking. I’d rather say we’re diligent, and the drive to work comes from the strong pressure that you need to achieve a lot very quickly, or else you won’t make it in this world. As for them being quicker to say no... Maybe they know they can’t live that way if something doesn’t work. And to live is very costly.

Young people feel they don’t have to stick rigidly to one profession, that they can change courses, jobs, and find something that suits them. We’re far from the days when the son was a blacksmith because the father was a blacksmith, and the daughter stayed home as a housewife. But we also have to know that there’s more and more uncertainty, precarious work.

If Gen Z is the way it is, I wouldn’t attribute that to the generation itself but rather to the Boomer generation. Everything that makes life harder for us isn’t the product of our ideas and actions. But it’s also true that sometimes, you need to stop, think, and make a decision. I’d like to do something today, something different tomorrow, but that’s not realistic. When you’re bombarded by choices from all ends, you have to make decisions. If there are three shirts in a store, I’ll pick one; if there are 250, I might end up buying sneakers instead. (laughs)

You performed at a concert aimed at contributing to the best possible care, treatment, and support for women with gynaecological cancer. You probably get invited to participate in quite a few charitable events; how do you choose them? This concert likely wasn’t a hard choice, as both of your parents are doctors...

My father is a gynaecologist, my mother is a pediatrician, so naturally, when I got the invitation, I immediately thought my dad would be happy if I could perform there. Otherwise, I choose events based on two criteria: whether it’s something important and whether I’m home at that time. I've often had to turn down an event I would have really liked to participate in simply because I wasn’t here.

Life has taken you all over in recent years. What have your parents given you that has stayed with you and has been proven most useful today?

They gave me a sense of normality. I'm an ordinary person who takes everything in moderation. I didn’t become a hedonist, nor did I give in to the patterns that the environment might impose. They gave me a strong sense of who I am and what I am, unconditional self-confidence, and self-respect. And the certainty that I’m never alone in anything.

Recently, the dramaturg Nina Kuclar Stiković and I talked about how Generation Z might be the first to actively work through its traumas, though she noted that taking on such responsibility across generations is a huge task. In the end, you might even feel worse. If you only become aware of your baggage but can’t overcome it, it can feel even worse than if you had never been made aware of it at all, she said. What do you observe around you, in your own generation?

Mental health has never been as openly discussed as it is today. I know many people who go to therapy. It’s actually strange that mental health was never treated before, that this stigma existed. If you have a cold, you stay home, you also heal a broken arm. Today's generations have managed to break free from these shackles. The individual is becoming increasingly more important.

People are working through the things in their minds. And this bothers many people from generations who suppressed everything and unleashed their traumas onto others. I often think how unfortunate it is that we don’t practice everyday therapy in our surroundings. Everyone surely has someone whom they trust. We talk about all sorts of things, but we never ask each other how we are and share that honestly. Now, I do this with a few friends, and it’s really nice. I go to my friends for therapy. (smiles)

Nina also mentioned that patriarchy has wronged not only women but men too. It’s unfair that men couldn’t show emotions and always had to be strong. It always helps if you can share your feelings with someone. What do you think?

The Neanderthal perception of masculinity is passé. We can all first tell ourselves, and then tell others, how we feel and what’s going on in our heads.

This summer, you performed at festivals. Now you have a new album, and you’ll be performing at various venues again, with tickets quickly selling out. It's a carousel that never stops. You mentioned earlier that you caught yourself maybe not appreciating it anymore. What do you do now to keep that from happening?

For the tour that’s coming with the release of the new album, we consciously followed the motto, "I want less." Last year, we played in Stožice, before that in Križanke. This year, we toured Europe, and everyone was asking us what big thing we’re preparing next. But we were only talking about how nice it would be to play at Ljubljana's Cvetličarna again.

Pass by Maribor too, go a bit to the clubs in the Balkans, and that’s it. This is our home; this is our base. If we don’t feel good at home, we can’t feel good anywhere. We told ourselves that we need to find love in our base again. I’m glad we recognise this, that we’re not just banging our heads against a brick wall. The purpose of this tour is simply to enjoy it.

A few years ago, you told my colleague Robert Rebolj, my fellow journalist, and your fellow musician, that you’d like to have kids while still young. Yet you also say that you're in a period where several of your ideals have collapsed as you look at the world around you. Does the desire still remain?

When I said that, I was thinking I’d have my first child between the ages of 28 and 30. Then Robert told me that having a child young doesn’t necessarily mean that. (laughs) I see it now, too, as some of my friends already have children, and some even their second. My calendar no longer just has friends’ birthdays, but, for instance, the first birthday of a friend’s child. (laughs) Yes, I think a lot about how this world is in many ways not what I imagined it would be, but I guess it’s always been that way throughout history—things have never been ideal. I think everyone, in every era, has felt the world is going to- hmmm, well, that’s how it seems to me too. (laughs)

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Do SKZ like hickeys? Giving/receiving

Imma be so fr throughout doing this I got ice cream and was eating it like in between pulls and interpretations but it’s part of my artistic process and I’m never turning down an opportunity to mooch off the people around me by having them buy me things

Chan

He doesn’t like giving hickeys because he gets too carried away. It’s like he gets drunk off the experience and like his self control goes through the roof. Seeing his partner like that will make this man FERAL. But it also distracts him from a lot of things, so he’s more lenient on it. He also doesn’t like when his partner (rightfully) covers/hides a hickey. The rational part of him knows why and understands. The irrational part of him thinks it’s because they’re ashamed of him or something. And that makes him very volatile. He also just feels like giving hickeys is very impulsive in and of itself. Like people don’t think when they do it they just do. And he’s not that type of person. Though he fantasizes about giving hickeys he never would.

He likes receiving them. Practically he can’t most of the time unless they’re on places he wouldn’t show because he’s an idol. But he loves it when it’s someone he trusts. But they have to work for it. Chan went all emo though so like…Hickey trauma? Sad because of a lack of hickeys? “Everything makes me think of him/her?” Idk what it’s about but like he’s sad about it. But yeah he has to regulate himself and set rules for whoever’s giving them like “You can only put them here here” or if he knows he’ll be performing with a shirt off he has to make sure it’s below the belt. I was abt to ask a very serious question of the audience but this isn’t the time nor place so imma move on. Afterwards he always needs to lay back and self reflect on what the hell happened. Having hickeys on him just genuinely makes him very smug. Like “Yeah my partner wants me bitches” or something.

Minho

Literal legend by Ayesha Erotica came on as soon as I went to pull for this. Minho the man you are

ANYWAYS.

He loves giving hickeys. He gives them enthusiastically. They’re a requirement when he’s getting down and dirty with someone he’s in a relationship with. Or even when he’s bored and suddenly feeling “inspired” or feels the urge to. He’s very open-minded and fair when it comes to it, so yeah already getting he probably will let his partner give him one too. He’s also aware that having hickeys on too obvious places may ruin people’s perceptions on whoever he gives it to so he tries to make them in places easily hidden by clothing. And will respect it if they ask him not to. Actually scratch the relationship thing he gives random flings hickeys too with 0 shame. He’s very disciplined with it though. But he’ll also give as many as he can. He also likes giving them wherever he can.

He honestly would let someone give him hickeys if he wasn’t an idol. But he doesn’t want to deal with the stress that would come with them accidentally being seen. He’s very logical in that aspect. In theory he’d love it but solely in theory. But sometimes if his partner gets lucky he’ll let them leave them on like his inner thighs or something. It’ll be quite an achievement though.

Changbin

He likes giving hickeys. He’s like Chan when it comes to getting lost in it. Addicted to it. Having little self control when it comes to leaving them all over. He likes to indulge in it. Definitely the type that has the decorum not to leave them on the neck but shoulders and collarbones are his favorite places to leave them. He fantasizes about it even. And he likes seeing them. He’s very passionate about it and when doing it, I think.

He likes receiving them but another where his partner would have to work hard to be permitted to leave them. Another who’s worried. Hes an idol, he can’t be caught with them. He likes receiving a lot of them though. He fantasizes about receiving them too.

Hyunjin

Imma crash out. Genuinely. He was so eager to do this he literally cut into Changbin’s. I was trying to draw the last few for Changbin then BAM. HYUNJIN. OVERWHELMINGLY HYUNJIN.

And guess what card I got?

Lust.

BECAUSE HWS HYUNJIN.

What if I cried? Then what?

And guess what song came on after this? Head sprung.

I’m sick and tired of Hyunjin. SICK AND TIRED.

But yeah.

I’m just taking the lust as an overall card and we all know what lust is. If you wanna know what the card specifically means…Google it? I dunno

Now that it’s HIS TURN

Surprise surprise he loves giving hickeys. I’m sooooo shocked. He likes giving a lot of them. 007 just came on. I have never heard this song before. I’m not surprised THIS is what’s going on right now. THIS ISNT EVEN MY PLAYLIST IM GONNA CRY. Anyways he likes them a lot. See…I have a lot of cards here. None of which I can even get any real meaning for

Hyunjin is stressing me out

He’s down for receiving hickeys and unlike the others doesn’t give a shit someone may see? Or rather doesn’t think about it. Someone in power probably pulled rank and said they’d do XYZ if it happened. Probably Chan. And he’s graciously choosing to pretend that never ever happened.

Han

Han is always such a breath of fresh air after Hyunjin. I love Han. I eat sleep and breathe Han. Han should stay the way he is because he’s perfect and I love him

He doesn’t mind giving hickeys and likes giving them in obvious places. I’m getting sun imagery so this is definitely his Leo Mars shining through. He thinks the hickeys keep anyone from trying to steal his partner away from him. Especially since as an idol he’s often gone. After he probably self reflects a lot. It also starts many o’ inner conflict when he reflects because it makes him really think on the why. He doesn’t want to think of or speak on the why.

Another who doesn’t mind receiving them. He high key WANTS the public to see them. Like a badge of honor. Very open and honest about their existence. Fantasizes about being all marked up with hickeys and fans catching him.

Felix

He doesn’t like it, point blank period. He believes it’s too aggressive and doesn’t want to hurt his partner in the process. He’d just feel very ashamed and guilty about it if he did. And he feels like the act of doing it just lacks any compassion for the receiver.

How do I say this…Felix likes receiving hickeys wrapped into a package of degradation. And aggressiveness. See…He thinks it may hurt because that’s how he likes it. When it hurts in the process. DONT SHOOT THE MESSENGER. Another who often can’t because he’s an idol. And he constantly changes his mind on the matter in general. But generally he enjoys it.

Seungmin

He likes giving hickeys. I don’t know where but he probably has his favorite spot that’s both enjoyable to give hickeys to and inconspicuous. He’s aggressive with it too. He won’t if his partner doesn’t want him to, though. He’s just generally very patient with his partner. Getting this links with his shadow self??? And I don’t wanna know??? So I won’t ask???

Very bluntly, he likes receiving hickeys. That’s all folks.

I.N

He does enjoy giving hickeys. In theory. Practically he’s never done it and thinking of doing it scares the fuck out of him for many reasons. Reasons we won’t get into fully but include and are not limited to; the humiliation he’d feel if it didn’t work, the fact he doesn’t fucking know the proper hickey technique and he’d rather die than ask one of his hyungs about hickey giving technique, he doesn’t know if he’d be too aggressive with it, doesn’t want to be turned down if he asked, etc. if asked he’d try with much swiftness though.

He doesn’t want to receive one AT ALL. I’m getting he thinks it’d hurt and he’d suffer and end up crying sobbing rolling on the floor about it. And don’t get me started on all the risks if the public finds out. Even if a staff member finds out and leaks it. It would ruin him and he’s not taking that risk for a fancy mouth bruise. Hell no.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idea by @idfkeatdust

I originally wanted the reader to be a child of Hestia but only to find out she doesn’t really have any kids. (From what I’ve read) So that’s out of the question. Love that for me 😂

Also Luke acting like a big bro to the younger campers lives in my head rent free. This is too long and probably doesn’t make much sense but I was like half asleep whilst writing this and unable to figure out how to end this seamlessly, so blame that and shitty writing.

Luke vividly remembered the exact moment he fell for you as though it were yesterday, how could he not when it was one of the only things that brought him any semblance of happiness and normality within the typically grim life of a demi-god.

It was during your first ever game of capture the flag at camp, you were allied with the blue team and stationed with the flag as a defender, tasked with the important job of stopping the red team from snagging it and claiming victory along with bragging rights. You were hyper vigilant of everything, from your stance, to the way you held your sword and shield like a iron vice, right down to the pace of your breathing and even made a headcount of every time you blinked as to stop yourself from your mind over reacting at every sound the forest made; believing it to be the enemy team making their move ahead of time.

If you were under any other circumstance, Luke would’ve found this kind of thing reaction endearing but it didn’t matter in the end because the blue team ended up winning out against the red team, all thanks to Luke and his excelled talents in swordsmanship and leadership as per usual.

What really sealed the deal for Luke in his feelings for you however was how genuinely happy you seemed upon hearing the news that your team won. You looked towards him with the brightest eyes and sweetest, widest smile he’s ever seen on the face of anyone he had ever met previous to you, and yet he couldn’t help but attempt to imitate your blinding smile but failed as it felt disingenuous; that typically tends to happens when you’ve won at pretty much every capture the flag since arrival, serval times over.

‘We won?’ You asked, still smiling.

‘Are your ears filled with cotton?’ Like asked rhetorically, holding you by the shoulder, smiling back at you. ‘yeah we won. Why? You act like this is your first time winning anything?’ He continued and takes in the way you averted your gaze elsewhere as though pondering whether or not you should admit something to him, only to look back at him and say ‘well I never got to do the winning as I was never given the opportunity to be on the winning team. The winning side.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. ‘Only ever on the losing side. So I tend to treasure the times where I do win, even if it’s small victories, they still mean something in the end.’ You added.

Luke’s smile softened as he hears this, whilst also finding immense respect for you in recognising and taking pride in triumphs in ways that others would consider not worth the effort in obtaining; it truly made him think back on how he had taken his own achievements for granted and instead of celebrating the fact that he even won at all. ‘That’s one hell of a way to look at victory,’ Luke chuckled, ‘but I’ll let you what, stick with me and you’ll always be on the winning side.’ He promised, squeezing your shoulder as he began to drag you back towards the dinning pavilion.

‘You really want me on your team?’ You said incredulously as though you couldn’t believe what you were hearing before adding. ‘I didn’t really do anything other than defend the flag.’

‘Protecting the flag is a pivotal part of the game,’ Luke began, ‘it wouldn’t be called capture the flag if protecting the primary objective of the game wasn’t top priory for maintaining a single teams victory, whilst also attempting to steal the enemies flag that’s being heavily guarded to death.’ He says and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ending statement, which made him warm inside from that fact that he had obtained his first small victory in making you chuckle; Luke was staring to slowly understand why you choice to savour the smaller victories in life, it definitely had it’s merits. ‘So to answer your question, yes, I would love to have you on my team. A hundred percent.’ He adds and once again your blinding smile was back on him and in that moment Luke felt as though he had finally won at life.

Now all he wanted was for you to stake claim to his heart because it was already yours and will be yours long after; Being yours would be his life’s greatest achievement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Luke fell first, you fell harder for him then you thought you would after capture the flag.

He was the first ever friend you made at camp, which he continued to be even after you moved out of the Hermes cabin after being claimed as the child of Erebus, primordial god of darkness and shadows, so it was only natural that you wanted to take up any given opportunity to spend time with Luke and utilise every second of every minute to the fullest.

Yeah, he was conventionally attractive but that was merely a bonus to the perfect personality he had as camp half-bloods’ golden boy. What really sold you on him was how brotherly he acted towards the younger campers; making sure they were okay, giving them an answer to their every question, going out of his way to make sure they were settling in fine all the while being their resinated tour guide through camp and trying out various different activities to determine who their godly parents were based on what they excelled at.

He tried implementing a sense of normality for them, whether it worked or nor didn’t matter, it was the thought that he tried to remind these younger demi-gods that they were allowed to be human, and not the weapons that they were soon going to unfortunately be trained into. You were aware of Luke’s stance of the Greek pantheon of gods and goddesses and their blatant neglect and mistreatment of their children, only bothering to take notice of them when they could be proven useful to go on menial quests that untimely mean nothing, only to then be discarded soon after like a severely damaged toy; never to be played with again by it’s owner.

It was the inevitable fate of all demi-gods in Luke’s eyes, no valour, no glory, no memoriam, only the fact that a burned burial shroud of your godly parent is all to remember you by because in the end it wasn’t you -the demi-god- who was being remembered; it was the weapon you were moulded into by force for your parent’s honour that would be remembered.

However in the moments where you stood a distance away from the archery range, watching as Luke forced the newest addition to camp into crouching to avoid a rouge arrow that flew over their heads and implied itself deep into the trunk of a tree; it was obvious that the kid should be kept far away from from a bow and arrow for the foreseeable future as archery was defiantly not within his skill set, seeing as he could’ve easily just struck somebody with that stray arrow of his but you couldn’t help but smile at how Luke helped the boy up by his arm, checking him over for injuries while also asking if he was okay.

‘You alright there Damien? You’re not hurt anywhere are you?’ You heard Luke ask the younger lad with chestnut hair and wide doe eyes filled with fright, looking him over one more time to be certain that he was indeed injury free.

‘Y-yeah, I don’t think archery is my thing.’ Damien replied and Luke’s face of worry was soon replaced by a relieved expression, followed by a chuckle in disbelief as he raised a brow at the kid, as he then said ‘you don’t say? Now how about we put that down and go somewhere else before you let loose another route arrow, how does that sound?’ Damien was quick to discard the bow and arrow as though it burned him and went to follow Luke but before you could go back to what it was you were doing before you had gotten distracted, you heard Luke’s voice speak up once again, this time it was closely behind you; ‘Quick detour before we move onto the next activity Damien, there’s someone special I want you to meet first.’

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a familiar arm drape across your shoulder and pull you into his side, finding yourself on the receiving end of one of Luke’s pretty smiles that had your insides melting like butter, but all you could do was reciprocate his smile with one of your own, unknown of the affects it had on the son of Hermes; though it was apparently obvious to the young lad standing awkwardly off to the side as he innocently asks. ‘Is this the person you couldn’t stop saying had a smile that could outshine the stars?’ Your eyes almost bugged out of your head at the comment as your heart leapt into your throat, even Luke looked a little taken aback by this kids openness and had to cough into his hand in hopes of hiding his flustered expression.

‘Damien this is y/n, child of Erebus. y/n, this is Damien, our newest addition.’ Luke introduce you to one another, clearly avoiding the question Damien made earlier as though he didn’t hear it, but Damien was obviously a smart kid as he saw through this as one would a glass widow.

‘It’s nice to meet you Damien, I hope Luke hasn’t scared you too badly yet.’ You joked, nudging the aforementioned boy playfully in the side, wanting the boy to feel at ease. ‘Accusations!’ Luke cried, nudging you back, causing you to laugh, making him smile in response. ‘These are false accusations being made to tarnish my name and drag it through the mud out of sheer jealously.’

‘Jealously?’ You replied, brow raised as your arms crossed over your chest. ‘Since when and I’m only looking out for Damien’s best interests at heart, being stuck with you is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my worst of enemies.’ You continued to jest, another thing that you loved about Luke was the fact that you didn’t have to be overly serious with him, that didn’t mean you weren’t against having deep conversations because you’ve had them before down by the lake, but it was moments like there’s where having a bit of a laugh and a banter with one another was enough to make you temporality forget the reality of your lives and act your age for once; It was considered a distraction but a welcomed one indeed.

‘And yet I didn’t hear you voice any of this when I was showing you camp on your first day now did I?’ Luke replied cheekily as he looked over at Damien with a thumb jabbed in your direction, adding, ‘you hear what I have to deal with all the time Damien. Honestly they’re such a nightmare.’ Damien smiled and you could see the look of pride shine within Luke’s eyes at that, as though proud of himself for easing the tension from Damien’s poor shoulders.

You hope that one day you’d get the opportunity to tell him how you felt, whenever that may be because you honestly didn’t know much longer you could make yourself wait, but until then you were more then willing to play the long game.

[euseokz]

NEED U TO WRITE THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS SUNGCHAN FF SO BAD..,,

@ sungchan — i hate you i swear i do, so why can't i stop thinking about you ? . cws : enemies to lovers (? sort of) . college! au . masturbation (m) . delinquent! reader . wc : 0.7k+ . genre : smut (also sort of) - [pt. 2]

a/n: hope you like this nonnie ! not sure if it’s what you were expecting but . . i actually had a lot of fun with this since i’ve never written anything like it !

NERDY! SUNGCHAN who just can’t get you out of his head.

he always behaves himself, stays composed, shows to class on time, raises his hand when he knows the answer to a question, and sits in the front row so nothing will distract him. you on the other hand are the complete opposite. you show up just so you don’t fail the classes because of lack of attendance, but still get in late most days, sometimes very clearly hungover, and blatantly sleep through most of it, hiding yourself in the back with your stupid friends where the professors already know not to look if they don’t wanna get their nerves up.

you annoyed sungchan, annoyed him with your behavior, with your stupid comments during class, and with your light teasing over how he was so nerdy it was almost painful to watch — but he still couldn’t stop thinking about you, because why were you so pretty? why did your voice sound so sweet even when you spewed the stupidest things? he didn’t know what went through your head for you to behave like that, and he certainly didn’t know what went on in his head when he was alone in his dorm late at night thinking of you, his length wrapped in his hand as he stroked himself, only thoughts of you clouding his mind.

he’d think about how pretty you’d look on top of him, how sweet your cunt would be to him and take all of him so well. he imagined how good you’d feel, how cute you’d sound moaning his name, your own slipping past his lips accidentally every so often as he let out low whimpers of your name. you’d just look so good in his bed, your hair all messy and your expression flustered as he fucked into you.

sungchan wanted you, but he couldn’t have you, because what would that even do to his reputation? he was one of the top students, one of the few people actually expected to have a bright future ahead of them, so what would associating with someone like you, someone who couldn’t care less about school or academic achievements, do to him? it’d mess everything up, so he held himself back, simply ignoring you and pretending you weren’t even there, doing his best to not show that you did in fact affect him, that he did deep down want you. sungchan was a lot of things but he wasn’t dumb. he knew you liked him too at some level, if not in the extent of love in at least some way because you always made sure to show him pretty smiles, to never actually hurt him with your words, to tease him just enough to try to push his buttons and get a small reaction out of him, even if that never worked. you were meaner when you decided to tease other people, your smile turning cocky, and maybe that was because you knew you did leave a mark on them and with sungchan you somehow never did, but he still couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you liked him in the same depraved way he liked you. opposites attract after all, right?

maybe sungchan was finally going insane, wanting someone like you the lowest he could go, but he couldn’t help it. he wanted you, and he was tired of only getting to indulge in his feelings when he was alone and stroking his dick with his hand, so he finally got up the courage to talk to you, that happening one afternoon when he was the last to leave class — as per usual — and found you still in your seat, typing something on your phone, all alone if not for him.

“aren’t you gonna leave?” sungchan asked in a steady tone, his voice not faltering thankfully, looking you in the eye when he finally caught your attention. you shrugged, but got up, about to walk out when he called your name, making you stop and look back.

“what?” you asked, that pretty smile of yours already on your lips, your voice as sweet as always. sungchan looked down, thinking how he’d word it that he’d like to go out with you, but when he did and said it out loud he realized how insane it sounded, almost starting to back track until you interrupted him.

“i thought you’d never ask”

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

HI! I absolutely LOVED the hcs about haitani brothers, and I was wondering if you could do some with kokonoi, maybe what he would be in a relationship. have a good day 💗 and thx!!

Of course! Thank you so much for requesting<3

Bf Kokonoi Headcanons

After what happened with Akane, he thought he'd never move on and fall in love with someone else, that is, until he met you.

What caught his attention? What did he even like about you? These questions has haunted your mind for so long. And after you heard about Akane and how Kokonoi loved her, you thought maybe he found similarities between you two, you somehow reminded him of Akane, and that's why he fell in love with you but, my god, you were so wrong.

After you told him how you thought, he sat with you and named 2000, exactly 2000 reasons of why he fell in love with you.

"Just the mere existence of yours is the reason why I'm happy to wake up everyday, I love you so much that I'd walk to the hell with you but I wouldn't mind burning for eternity if I get to be with you, if I get to see you."

"you don't deserve to be in hell because of me tho."

"Heaven will feel like a hell if you won't be with me and the hell will feel like a heaven if you'll be with me."

He seems like a flirty boy who's hard to make blush but all you have to do is smile at him and he'd already have pink blush on his cheeks.

He definitely would be very supportive partner. He'd celebrate your wins with you. He'd be so so so proud when you would achieve something that truly makes you happy.

What he do for you? What WOULDN'T he do for you? He'd risk his life countless times just for your happiness.

He hates when people speak nonsense, waste his times and talk completely pointlessly but when it comes his lover, he'd sit and listen to you for HOURS even if you would be pointlessly speaking nonsense because it's not a waste of time for him. He'd love every single second.

He'd spend billions on you like seriously, you'd have everything you could ever ask for.

I have seen people portray him as someone who'd just give his partner money when they're upset and NO?? He wouldn't take his lover's feeling in such a light way to just give you money without even comforting you. He'll definitely comfort you through your vent and give you advice, but wouldn't solve your problem for you because unless it's something you can't solve alone, you can solve it on your own. He's not taking your independence away.

He wouldn't be clingy in public but he'd be clingy at home, especially when he's stressed. He appreciates the moments when you two just lay down and cuddle in silence so much.

He's not really the one to be jealous type but of course, he'd have his boundaries and can get jealous sometimes tho he places 100% trust in his partner.

He's so creative when it comes to dates to be honest. He'd have everything planned, a place already chosen. He LOVES taking you to fancy restaurants but sometimes, he'd take you to places where it's more quiet for you two, where you two can really spend the time completely alone.

If he's angry at something, he'd ask for some space and after calming down, he'd interact with you immediately.

He's not exactly the one who speaks his feelings freely, unless something triggered it. And you understand how his coping mechanism works but you've told him to let his feelings out since he doesn't have to bottle them up when he haves you. This definitely touched his heart.

If his partner would freely vent, that'd be great but if his partner also has hard time venting, he'd wait for you to open up. He'll never pressure you to do so. He'll still find a way to cheer you up.

Good timeline Koko:

Surely, Akane won't ever be the problem since in that timeline, he did move on from her and neither did the fire incident happen.

Sorry, I wanted to make some NSFW headcanons with GT Koko only! So here's some:

He's definitely switch, at least in my opinion. He might loves to be in control but he could very submissive sometimes.

He wouldn't rush things in bed, he'd worship your body and kiss you everywhere, telling you how mesmerising and gorgeous you look.

He wouldn't go for things such as bdsm unless you tell him that you want to, because bdsm isn't something everyone enjoys.

Okey, he might have slight bondage kink or other bdsm kink because he definitely isn't the one to only have innocent kinks such as praise kink.

He definitely does NOT have daddy/mommy kink. I actually feel like he'd be weirded out or cringed if someone calls him daddy and he wouldn't call someone mommy either. The petnames such as love, handsome, darling has him weak in knees and closer to his orgasm.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ੈ✩‧₊˚✧.*☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ-ˋˏ ༻

I hope you liked this! Again, thank you so much for requesting! Have a great day/night!

[leclerc-s]

track 001. shameless

─── ❝ distance, inches in between, i want you to give in. ❞ ───

masterlist // next

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and others

nataliaruiz my “best” friend gets to drive for ferrari next year! i think this calls for a celebration! (please get me sebastian vettel’s number or daniel ricciardo's, i'm not picky)

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc we are best friends stop lying to people

nataliaruiz are we though? charles_leclerc and i’m not getting you sebastian’s number much less daniel's nataliaruiz oh come on! please! for me! charles_leclerc no way

user18 oh how i’ll adore having natalia around at the paddock with seb.

user25 why is she only making her presence known now that charles is driving for ferrari? was alfa romero not enough?

user18 she has a job asshole and they’ve been friends since they were kids. nataliaruiz if you’ll scroll further down my page you’ll find that i congratulated charles on his achievement in getting into formula 1. not that i need to give an explanation to a stranger.

pierregasly have you two started dating yet? asking for a friend (i’m the friend)

nataliaruiz fuck off you french fuck user84 so it's not just us who sees it user67 meaning we’re not crazy like we thought we were

danielricciardo hate to break it to you kid, but i have a girlfriend

nataliaruiz aw man. also, please never call me kid again, i'm not that young. i could totally date leo dicaprio pierregasly that's because you're under 25... nataliaruiz i wouldn't complain.

maxverstappen33 you're telling me i have to deal with dumb and dumber?

nataliaruiz you fucking love me verstappen admit it. maxverstappen33 i tolerate you at best on a good day.

it started with alcohol, although stories like this always do. in hindsight you can't really blame charles for the choices he made when natalia looked the way she did. she was beautiful, he had known that his entire life. boys always told him he was lucky to have a best friend who looked like her. though it didn't always feel like luck when a boy broke her heart and he was left to console her. sometimes he wished she was less beautiful so her heart would get broken less.

after the announcement of charles’ move to ferrari for the 2019 season, natalia had decided a party night was in order, and charles was never one to say no to her. not even when they were little kids getting in trouble for whatever stupid stunt they decided to pull. it wasn't just that he had a crush on her until he was 14, but more so he didn't know how to say no to a pretty girl, especially one who was his best friend. even when she had moved to a different country to pursue her dreams of acting and modeling, they always found a way to speak. it also helped that she dropped everything the moment he needed her and vice versa.

had it cost them both relationships, yes, but neither of them truly cared. it was a weird dynamic to everyone, they acted like couple but they were friends, or so they insisted. and so they found themselves in the position they were in, naked in a bed, with a massive hangover. waking up together in a bed wasn't strange, they had done that before, but waking up naked was something new to them. natalia was the first to wake up, shooting up when she'd realized what had happened. she grabbed the pillow she had been using and smacked charles across the face, effectively waking up the sleeping boy.

charles shot up, "je suis réveillé. qu'est-ce qui ne va pas? qui est mort?" (i'm awake. what's wrong? who is dead?)

"english, charles, english. it’s too early for french," natalia sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"what's wrong?" natalia gestured to him, then her, and then their clothes on the room floor, "non."

"oui," she sarcastically said, "what do we do?"

"ignore it?" he questioned, "do you remember anything?"

"no," she muttered, "do you?"

charles shook his head, "i don't remember anything after pierre stood on a table."

"good, we forget this ever happened, things go back to normal."

charles nodded, "okay, do i close my eyes?"

"for?"

"are you not going to put your clothes back on?"

"oh!" natalia realized, "yes, i am."

pierre gasly added two people

pierre gasly they didn't leave to go fuck max!

max verstappen i'm just saying it could be a possibility. we've all been waiting years for them to start dating.

esteban ocon doesn't she have a boyfriend?

pierre gasly non, ils ont rompu, je pense (no, they broke up, i think)

mae jones translation? pierre gasly google translate it bitch mae jones you know what you french fuck baguette, joan of arc is still more famous than you AND SHE'S BEEN DEAD FOR CENTURIES!!

max verstappen PIERRE FUCKING GASLY IF YOU FUCKING ADDED LECLERC I'M CRASHING INTO YOU NEXT WEEK

natalia ruiz is pierre talking shit again?

max verstappen EVEN WORSE YOU ADDED NATALIA?

natalia ruiz no, it's just not fair right? max verstappen i hate you. natalia ruiz and yet i was still your first kiss charles leclerc WHAT?! mae jones excuse me?

daphne jones can you guys shut up? for once? i can't have a moment of peace in the studio because my phone keeps blowing up.

natalia ruiz I'M GONNA GO SCREAM IN A PILLOW

charles leclerc please don't.

esteban ocon are you two together?

natalia ruiz i slept over. we didn't fuck. pierre gasly yet.

pierre gasly also, i feel like we should circle back to the natalia was max's first kiss thing. how did that happen? when did that happen? where did it happen?

max verstappen as mae says, i plead the fifth

natalia ruiz we were 12, and it was a dare. momma didn't raise a bitch

natalia ruiz well, she didn't raise me but you guys get what i mean

daniel ricciardo ah, trauma dumping, a skill this friend group is excellent at, welcome to the club.

max verstappen NO! DON'T DO THAT SHIT! THEY ARE NOT WELCOME!

sebastian vettel max, behave.

carlos sainz this is why we call you dad seb. you act like one.

natalia ruiz oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

charles leclerc i am now deaf in one ear. she has really strong lungs.

esteban ocon i figure we should let her knew lewis and fernando are also in this group chat. to get all of the screaming out at once.

charles leclerc well fuck you for that esteban. my ears are ringing.

charles was fucked and apparently a good liar. he remembered everything from last night, from the first drink he had to the first kiss he shared with natalia. he was far from sober last night, but for some fucked up reason he remembered everything. charles didn't have the same luck as natalia, he just couldn't forget. and oh, how badly he wanted to forget, lorenzo had been right, falling for your best friend was never going to work out. it was times like these where he desperately wished his papa and jules were still around, they always knew what to say.

everyone around him always told him he was a shit liar, but hah! he had just proved them all wrong (take that pierre and george!) charles had effectively lied to his best friend right in her face and she hadn’t suspected a thing. apparently he had been thinking too hard because natalia sat next to him and he hadn’t noticed. charles wasn't even sure how they were functioning in the same space after what had occured between them this morning, rather late last night.

she sighed, trying to get his attention, charles turned to glance at her, saying nothing. natalia rolled her eyes and huffed, this time charles felt inclined to speak.

“what?” charles asked. she shrugged, “i don’t know, i feel weird.”

“do not tell me-” natalia’s eyes widened realizing what he was implying, “no charles! that’s not how it works. it’s been barely 24 hours or less!”

“i’m a man!” he shouted back, “i don’t know how that works!”

“oh my god,” natalia laughed. she sat back before turning her body to face charles, “kiss me.”

“quoi?” the monegasque questioned. she shrugged again, “i don’t know. maybe it’s because i know what we did and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about why on earth i would sleep with my best friend.”

“so… you want me to kiss you?”

“yes, maybe then i’ll remember why.”

“i’m not going to kiss you,” charles argued.

“what? why not?” natalia asked, “i’m a great kisser! i won’t bite, i swear!”

“you bit louis when we were 16,” charles reminded.

“because he was a horrible kisser and he liked garlic a bit too much.”

charles grimaced and opened his mouth to reply before natalia rolled her eyes him, grabbing him by the shirt of his collar and pulling in for a kiss. he reciprocated quickly, and after about a minute, natalia pulled away. charles stared at her, wondering what her next move would be.

she cocked her head to the side, “no, i still don’t get it.”

“get what?”

“why?”

charles quickly realized what she meant and replied, “we were drunk?”

“i would’ve done it sober,” natalia dismissed.

charles was shocked, that was a new revelation to him, “you would?”

“of course,” she quickly replied, “i would kiss you sober because what if a crazy fan was trying to kiss you? or what if a crazy ex wanted to kiss me?”

“right,” charles dejectedly replied. he stood up, “i’m going to take a nap.”

natalia stood up after him, grabbing his hand as he walked away, “was it the kiss? je suis désolée (i’m sorry) i wasn’t thinking and-”

charles interrupted her, pulling her closer and kissing her, natalia reciprocated. charles pulled away, placing his hand on her hips, there was tension between them, “tell me to stop and i will. i would never-”

it was her turn to cut him off, “don’t, don’t stop.”

green eyes met brown, not an ounce of regret seemed to be held in either of them. natalia waited for him to kiss her again. would this potentially ruin their friendship? absolutely, but neither of them cared, not right now. not when they only needed one thing, and one thing only, each other.

“why?” charles whispered, not daring to break their bubble.

“why not?” she argued.

“but it could-”

“i don’t care,” natalia says, “i trust you and you’re my best friends. i’d rather it be you then someone else i met at a bar. someone i don’t care about.”

“it’s going to change everything,” charles argued back.

“you’re schedule is about to be even worse because you’re driving for ferrari next season, you won’t have time for a relationship. i don’t want a shitty one night stand with a stranger or a relationship right now. it’s a win win for us.”

charles opened his mouth to argue again, but natalia has had enough, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. she pulled away first, breathing heavily, “do you want me to stop?”

“merde,” charles whispered, “non,” he decided after he paused to think about it, “s'il te plaît, ne t'arrête pas.” (shit, no. please, don’t stop.)

“okay,” she whispered, pulling him in for another kiss, both of them proceeding to lose each other in between charles’ sheets, not an ounce of regret. years later, they’ll both realize they were fucking idiots in love who disguised it as a friends with benefits relationship.

they both lay breathless in his bed between the sheets, she lays her head on his chest, and he pulls her close. they should’ve known then, it was never just sex for either of them. it was never was just going to be just sex.

“just sex?” she asks him.

charles, despite a broken heart quickly realized it was better to have a small part of natalia, than no part of her, “just sex,” he whispered, “this doesn’t change anything does it?”

natalia looks up at him, doe eyes looking at him, “no,” she replied, holding up her left pinky, like when they were children, “best friends?”

“pour toujours,” charles answers, interlacing their pinkies. (forever)

the were truly fucked from the start. if only they had realized it from the moment their lips first touched, maybe things would've gone differently for them. but would it truly? they had always loved each other, one way or another, they would end up in a similar situation.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! y'all I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT! hence why i skipped that whole thing entirely. but yay, first part of this series is finally out! this story does begin in 2018, right after charles was announced to be driving for ferrari in the 2019 season and then jumps to 2019.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[junedenim]

not shy of a spark

part 2 part 3

one day with a stranger in a foreign country

word count: 16k

Alex notices her for the first time on the other side of the train's aisle. She's wearing a blue bandana around her head, tied under her chin, and looks like she belongs in a Godard film. Her dirty blonde hair peeks through and she's wearing sunglasses, like him. She's got wired headphones on and is staring out the window, just like him.

He's looking for too long. He knows it. She's going to catch on at some point. His eyes aren't hiding his infatuation but he can't help but look. There's no one sitting beside her and there's no one sitting beside him. She only has a saddle bag with her that's sitting on the empty chair.

He can't think of an opening but he can't stop staring. He tries not to look too suspicious but he's locked in looking at her during the train ride.

When they arrive in Brussels, she leaves before he can get out of his seat. Then, Alex spots the book sitting on her seat. All he can think is how big of a fool he must be if he wastes this chance to talk to her—a shy idiot who stares at a girl for the whole train ride and says nothing.

Once he gets off the train, he sees her by the escalator. She's looking through her bag and he assumes she is looking for the book. His heart feels heavy and he inches slowly toward her, not wanting to spook her.

"Excuse me," Alex says. She looks up at him. She's taken her sunglasses off and he can see her blue eyes. They're a calm ocean wave crashing into him. It takes him a second to spit it out. "This your book?"

She looks at the book in his hands and smiles up at him. Alex feels pride like he's achieved some Herculean task by giving the book back to her. "Yes, yes." She grabs the book from his hands and returns it to her space in her bag. "Thank you."

Alex can't let her walk away so he asks, "Is it any good?"

"The book?" She questions. He nods. "I like it so far. Have you read it?" He notices her French accent for the first time. It's light, not as strong as his English one, but it ebbs into the pronunciation of her words. It makes sense she's French. The book was in French. Haute Fidelite.

He shakes his head. "No, no. I saw the movie years ago."

"Oh, with Jack Black, right?" She giggles. She has a good laugh, an infectious one that courses itself through Alex.

He chuckles. "Yeah. You like Jack Black?" He wants to slap himself in the face and he thinks the wincing shows on his face. She laughs again, almost like pointing a finger in his face and saying Ha ha!

"I love Jack Black. Do you like Jack Black?" She turns the question on him with laughter.

Alex quails. "Who doesn't?"

She's about to say goodbye. Alex can feel her floating away from him and he can't let it happen. He doesn't want to be a creep but he doesn't want her to disappear forever without giving it a try. "Have you been here before?"

She nods and he exhales in relief that he has an in. "My mother is from here. When my grandparents were still alive we came."

"Do you think you could show me around a little? Point me to a good cafe or summat." He shoves his hands in his pockets. He must look nervous. He has to. Alex is sure his antsy behavior is creeping her out and the fact that he is breaking a sweat isn't helping.

But then she smiles and he thinks everything will be alright. "I could stop for pain au chocolat."

Alex grins. "You say it so French."

He's a dimwit English man because "Well, I am French." She smiles at his charm, which he would label stupidity. "I'm Charlotte but everyone calls me Lottie."

"Alex." She takes his hand and shakes it. A jolt runs through his arm like a nerve has been hit.

"Follow me? Yeah?" She instructs and he follows as she travels out of the station. Her dress, a simple white one, flows behind her and she looks as though she has the keys to the gates of heaven.

When they make it out of the station, she asks him, "What brings you to Belgium?"

That's when he starts lying to her. "I've never been before. I've always wanted to but kept putting it off."

"What about you? Why were you in London?" Alex asks.

She smiles at him. "I've got friends up there."

When they enter the cafe, Lottie takes the scarf off and he sees her full head of hair, glowing and cascading down her back like a rushing waterfall. "What would you like?"

"Oh." He forgot about that part. "A coffee, I guess, and a croissant." Relief comes when she orders for them.

They sit at a table outside. The air is breezy but not windy and the temperature sits firmly in no-need-for-a-jacket weather, even if he wears one still. "Do you mind?" She plucks a cigarette out.

"As long as I can bum one," Alex says.

She hands him one and a flame bursts between the two of them. "Do you usually ask strangers to be your tour guides in foreign countries?"

He chuckles. "Yeah. You get a translator and free cigarettes." Alex shakes his head. "No, no. I don't usually do this kind of thing."

"So, I'm the exception." Her smile sparks something in him. It implores him to be honest. He tells her that he's on a bit of a getaway, although he doesn't tell her what he's escaping. Brussels is the closest city by train from London and he'd never explored the city before. She tells him she's stopping her for the day before she heads back home for Paris tonight. She hasn't been here since she was a teenager.

After they've finished their pastries and coffees, she asks, "Do you want to see the peeing boy?"

Alex leans forward. "Pardon?"

She giggles and he feels like she's making fun of him. "You don't know anything about Brussels, do you?"

Alex bows his head shamefully. "I'll admit my research was lacking for the most part."

"Come on." She grabs his hand and drags him out of his chair. She lets go and he hates that she lets go.

On the walk over, she asks him what he does for a living. She must think he's a drug dealer or pimp by his evasiveness but he admits, "Oh, I'm, uh, a musician."

"What kind of musician?"

He's not helping matters. "I, uh, do a little, uh—I'm in a band."

"Oh, my ex-boyfriend was in a band," she says light-heartedly. "Do you like being in a band?"

It's oddly refreshing. It's not like everyone he comes across knows who he is but it's been a long time since someone has asked him what he does for work and doesn't know already. An especially long time since a pretty girl asked him.

"Yeah. I mean, I've known them—the guys—my whole life and it's a fun job to have."

"Not many people get to do their dreams for a living."

"What do you do?"

Lottie groans. "I'm a nanny but it's a temporary thing, at least, you know, for now. I'm kind of figuring the whole what I want to do with my life thing out."

Alex says, "That's perfectly respectable."

She scoffs with laughter. "Tell that to my parents. I think they would be supportive of me if they knew I had a passion for something. Like if I wanted to be a musician they would completely support me. I think they would, but I don't even have something like that."

"Well, what do you like?" Alex is fascinated and wants to know every little bit about her. Wants to understand what makes her tick. Wants to make her tick. He feels like a horny teenage boy but he can't help it. He swallows down his desires as best he can because listening to her talk is enough.

Lottie shrugs. "Euh, I mean, I have hobbies. I like to paint and I think I'm a good cook but...I don't want to do those things."

He nods. "I know what you mean. Music can feel that way sometimes. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't do that. Probably be a teacher like me parents or something."

Lottie smiles. It's bright and she stares at him like looking at a star up close would do to you. "Both your parents teach?"

"Yeah, yeah. Me mum's a German teacher. Me dad's taught science and music and stuff." He feels like an awkward gangly teenage boy in front of her. She's strong and moving and just has a way about her.

"Is that where your musical ability comes from? Turn down here," Lottie directs as they round a corner.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "I suppose. It kind of came about in different ways."

"Do you speak German?" She's quite the interviewer.

"A little but not really."

"Huh."

Alex chuckles. "Huh, what? You making fun of me for being a dumb Brit."

She's giggling and he doesn't care if it is his lack of intelligence that is making her laugh because she's got a laugh that'll crack you in two. "No, never," she says but really means yes, totally.

"You're ripping on me because the British education system failed me. If I could learn another language I would," Alex tells her as they walk down the steps to the tram.

"What language would you learn?"

They're walking shoulder-to-shoulder and he feels something shutter in him by the way her shoes click along the tile. "French would probably help me out a lot right now."

Lottie had been sparked, smiling, she asks, "Would you like me to teach you?"

Alex, passing through the turnstile, smiles and answers, "I'd like that."

"Do you know how to say bonjour?"

Alex rolls his eyes. "I'm not that far gone."

Lottie throws her head back in a giggle. "I don't know how much the British education system failed you."

"Bonjour, je m'appelle Alex."

They hop on the tram waiting for them. Lottie nods her head in approval. "Très bien."

"That means I did good, right?"

She snorts a laugh and nods. "You're a right old Frenchie."

The tram is decently packed so they stand by the door, holding onto the same pole. He's not much taller than her but he still smiles down upon her. The top of her hair has fly-aways coming off of it from when she pulled her scarf down but she looks like she looks like the embodiment of divinity.

There's a lull of silence as the tram moves. She breaks it by telling him, "In Ypres, where my bomma, my grandmother, is from, they hold this festival where people dress up in cat costumes and throw cat stuffed animals from a tower."

Alex chuckles. "Why?"

She throws her left hand up in the air, talking with it. "It's symbolic, I think. They used to throw real cats from the tower to rid the town of evil spirits and bad luck."

"So, it's probably for the best they just do the stuffed animals now."

"I think so," she agrees. "What about you? Where in England are you from?"

"Sheffield," Alex answers.

Lottie leans her head on the pole, gazing up at him. He gets lost in her eyes. Could stare at them for an extended period of time that some might consider staring or stalking but definitely creepy. "What's Sheffield like?"

Alex doesn't know how to answer. He's always felt where he was from was plain, especially in comparison to what this Parisian girl has experienced. "I don't know. I mean, I like it."

She giggles at him. "Do you still live there?"

"Yeah, technically I still live with my parents. That sounds a bit lame, doesn't it?"

She's nice about and shakes her head. "I don't think so. I live with the family I nanny. Not exactly luxury."

"A live-in nanny sounds luxurious," Alex comments.

"For the family maybe but they stuff me in a closet."

"Like Harry Potter?" He questions.

She hums, "Mhm?"

"You know, how he lives under the stairs," Alex explains.

"I've never read Harry Potter."

He throws his head back with a groan. "You're making me sound like a geek. I thought it was a general knowledge thing."

"Maybe." She shrugs. "I never read Harry Potter. I was geekier in other regards."

"Like?" He wants to know everything about her. Wants her to expose her insides to him like a game of Operation and poke around, find her heart, and keep it for himself.

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. "I'm not going to scare you off yet."

"Oh, come on, I'm sure it's not anything as embarrassing as an unnatural obsession with The Strokes."

"I like The Strokes." She is the perfect girl. He delusional thinks that if she knows the Strokes she must know him but her eyes don't hint at that.

"You have to have one irredeemable quality, Lottie."

"Well, I don't know. I have this problem with my therapist."

He's taken aback. "Your therapist?"

"Yeah, I mean, that's a whole other bag of worms."

"Can of worms," he corrects the error with a chuckle.

"Right," she acknowledges. "We got into this disagreement over my ex-boyfriend. You know, he was a certifiable psycho and he had—this is our spot—he had this problem with, well, he was a porn addict."

Alex stills and doubles over in laughter and she has to drag him off the tram so it doesn't leave with him.

She furrows her brows. "What?"

"I just wasn't expecting you to say that."

Lottie sighs, "I don't pick the best men. That has been abundantly clear and my therapist has agreed with that for the past decade—"

"You've been going to therapy for a decade?"

She squints at him, "Are you sure you're not French? You're very judgy."

"Sorry, sorry." He doesn't want to upset her in any way, especially something he should probably be doing too. "I just don't know anyone who is in therapy let alone for a decade."

"I'm of the opinion everyone could use it otherwise they'll be spontaneously getting on a train to Brussels." She can read him like street signs. He says something and she knows exactly where he's headed.

"Hey!"

She grins at him. "Who said I was talking about you?" She continues walking straight. "I think everyone should be in therapy but my therapist is a certifiable nutjob but that's why I think she fits me. She's had a problem with everyone of my boyfriends, even the good ones. But my last one, who I broke up with because of the porno addiction, she told me that I give up too easily and I should work it out with him. I'm like 'You've told me to break up with my last 5 boyfriends but you want me to get back with the guy who has VHS tapes of porn under his bed."

"VHS?" Alex laughs.

Her head nods with amusement. "Yes, it was bad."

"Do you think you'll get back together with him?" Selfishly, he wants the answer to be no. He also wants her to say "Never, I want to be with you now." That's when he really feels like a foolish sad sack.

Instead, she says, "Uh, no. I'll just hop on a train to Amsterdam or something and continue to avoid my issues in Paris."

"You think you're going to keep traveling?" How's a world tour sound?

"I'd like to but I've got to head back to Paris for my job. They gave me the week off to visit my friends in London but they're expecting me back tomorrow morning. What about you? You off on a European tour?" Unknowingly, she's right.

"Nah, I have to get back to London for work too." Recording a second hit album more accurately.

"So, one night in Brussels?"

"That was the plan."

"Except you had no plans. Well, other than to prey on an unsuspecting French girl." She's simpering and he supposes that means she is fine with him preying on an unsuspecting French girl.

"I'm not preying on you," Alex insists. I just want to kiss you.

"You are totally taking advantage of me. I had plans too, you know. Now I'm stuck walking with you to look at a little boy piss."

Alex needs to know. "Is it seriously a little boy pissing?"

She giggles, "You'll see. We're only a street away."

"What were you planning to do here?" He doesn't want to drag her away from her plans and, if she'll allow him, he'd tag along with her anywhere.

"I didn't really have any plans. Reminisce. I haven't been back in so long I fear I made Brussels up in my imagination." She's reflective looking, eyes darting around the art nouveau buildings for answers.

"How does your memory compare to how it is now?"

"Not too far off." She points her finger. "Here's the pissing boy."

Alex sighs and closes his eyes in both relief and amusement. "It's a statue." A little boy elevated above a fountain basin, holding his penis, water sprouting into the bowl. Alex is an idiot.

Lottie throws her head back in a cackle. "Did you think I was taking you to watch a real boy piss?"

"I don't know what they get up to in mainland Europe. You're throwing cats off of towers here!" He's slightly embarrassed but her laugh, even if it's at him, relieves an ache of this being a moment he looks back on in regret. No regret with that laugh.

"Manneken Pis. He's a hero."

"If every man who whipped out their dick in Britain got a statue, I don't think there would be any room left in the country."

She giggles. "The story goes he saves Brussels by peeing on a fuse that was lit by enemies to explode the city walls."

"The moral is public urination?"

She clutches her stomach. "I guess." He can't help but join in.

They set off walking to nowhere in particular. They don't even discuss where actually their feet are taking them. They just use it as a pathway for conversation. She holds her hands around her waist and she talks in a hushed manner but clear. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he's sure his mumbling can't be easy to understand but she never asks him to repeat himself.

"Do you travel a lot?" He asks her.

Lottie replies, "More when I was younger. Mainly just in Europe but I went to New York once."

"My grandma took me to Disneyland once."

"Really? No one in my family would ever do that."

"Why?"

"They all hate amusement parks. Really, they all hate amusement." It shocks him considering she seems so amused by everything. So amused by him. The first to crack a smile, burst into laughter, and encourage him to do the same.

"Not the most wild bunch?"

"No, they're wild. My brother's personality takes up enough space for 4 people. My maman has this laughter you can hear from 3 towns over. But they're, euh, more sophisticated to say." She says it so delicately and intently, he can't but think there is more to the story.

He jokes, "Oh, us Brits are just rolling in the mud."

"Eh, eh, I'm not saying that! My family is uptight. I'm not saying I don't love them but I'm not the biggest fan. I'd like to go to Disneyland." She thinks for a moment. "No I wouldn't."

He laughs. "Why? Why the sudden change?"

She scoffs, "I hate lines. I have the patience of a masturbating boy."

Alex fears she's reading his mind and that she's calling him out like I know what you're thinking and you can't have it. He's also choked up in laughter. "What?"

"Oh, well, you know, I'm sure you know. It's quick and they have to have it now and god forbid maman walks in on you with the laundry so you have to get it down now and fast."

"You're crazy-sounding, Lottie." He shakes his head and catches his breath.

"Maybe but I'm not wrong. Do you want to go in here? You like records?" She points to a shop, a little off the way.

He mocks, "Do I like records?" Alex follows her head first into the record store. She greets the shop owner for them and heads straight to scouring her way through the records.

They stand side-by-side, throwing spare glances at one another, but the other never catches them. He embarrassingly sees one of his records in the eye and is eternally grateful the band made the right decision to not put any of their faces on the cover.

They make it to the Gs when she turns to him. "I have to be honest. I don't even have a record player."

Alex snickers. "You're missing out."

"I like the idea of it. We had one growing up but I don't even have a CD player. The family I nanny, they like music but they don't like loud things. They're the type that they gather around the piano every night."

"So it's not like they're for modernity, in fact, they're more old-fashioned than a record player."

"Precisely." They do this little dance. Showing each other a record in silence and either getting a nod of approval or a shake of dismay. By the end, Lottie has no records and Alex has about twenty.

"I can not carry all these back to London." He struggles to even pick up the stack.

She guffaws at him. "Why don't you pick 5 of them?"

Alex waves her off. "Nah, I don't think I'm going to get any of them."

She bulges her eyes at him. "Seriously. You're going to hurt the poor shopkeeper's feelings."

"Here, I'll get you one," Alex offers.

She laughs and shakes her head. "I don't even have a record player."

He selects one out of his pile and walks it over to the cashier. "This is my way of inciting you to get your first. I consider it marketing to get the vinyl industry back up and running."

The shopkeeper tells him, "12 Euros."

The cash only sign glares at him. "Oh, shit," Alex mutters under his breath.

Lottie smirks. "You don't have any Euros, do you?"

Alex sheepishly looks over at her. His wallet only showing the few pounds he had in cash. "Yeah, sorry."

She digs through her saddle bag and pulls at the cash from her wallet and hands it over to the shopman. "You really weren't prepared for traveling."

"I intended to get some at the train station. Got a little distracted." He feels like the biggest doofus but she's looking at him with heart eyes.

Lottie smiles and shakes her head in disbelief at him. "What did you get me anyway?" Alex picks the bag off the counter as they exit the shop. He pulls the record out of the bag and she reads aloud, "Love in Portofino, Dalida."

"I figured a little French to match your French, although some of it might be in Italian. I don't remember." He slides the record back into the bag but keeps carrying it.

"Well, thank you," she says. Their feet continue on the cobbled road with no direction in particular.

He dismisses the comment. "You paid for it. I stood there and looked stupid."

"The gesture was still there and I appreciate it." He's not sure if he's delusional but he swears she makes eyes over at him, batting her lashes with her hair blowing away in the wind. Her eyes zero in on him and he feels like he's drowning. A wave has taken him away and he can only gasp for air, steadily struggling. "The town hall is right up here. It's beautiful if you'd like to see it."

Alex isn't sure it can compare to the sight beside him but he is willing to give it a try. With a nod of his head, they set off in that direction. "What do you play in that band of yours?"

He's not expecting to talk about the band. He feels awkward, avoiding such a big subject of his life, but he's eager for this escapism. He desires to just be a boy with a girl in a European city with no cares of what is to come next. "Oh, um, I play guitar and sing."

"You sing?" She questions.

"Yeah." The way she says her question prompts him to think out loud, "Why? I don't give the impression I do."

"I never said that."

"Ah," he wags his finger at her, "but your tone did. You were surprised that I sing."

She explains, "You don't have the demeanor I imagine for a singer."

"Which is?"

"I don't know. I imagine it's a rock band, right?" He nods. "Then, I don't know, something like Elvis or something. You're not very cocky, at least not with me."

"You're not the first to say it and I understand why." His shyness is pretty obvious. "I'm not offended by it."

"Good." She smiles at him and he smiles back. They stand before the town hall, Saint Michael gazing down upon them but they are too occupied with one another to pay any mind to him. Somewhere between these glimpses at the other, Lottie breaks eye contact, and meets Michael's eye contact. "Here we are. Voila! That's here you are in French."

He can only utter, "Wow," but he's not sure who he is saying it to. The carvings of the gothic structure or the lulu leaving him rapt at every corner.

His eyes trace over every inch of the hall. Her eyes trace over him, not looking, not noticing. She's seen the town hall enough, she hasn't gotten enough of Alex, unguarded, relaxed, and enthralled in the building. He's got a cut on his chin, slight and almost unnoticeable. His hair is tamed in a rough manner that fits his personality, hiding himself away but messing about to stand him out in a crowd. His arms are crossed now, no longer hidden away in his pockets. His brown eyes trained forward but expressing something that you can't place your finger on.

They meet hers soon after. She points her finger at a street to their left. "If we go this way, there's a hill where you can look over the city."

Alex isn't sure if it's instinct or some form of confidence that takes a hold over him, but he grabs her hand, much like she did outside that cafe, and says, "Let's go then." Unlike her, he doesn't let go. Her palms are soft and wrap his calloused hands up in a gentle hug. On the walk over, he looks over with a smile to see that she's already returning one.

The incline ahead exercises their legs but they're never fully out of breath. Too deep in conversation to notice the beating of their heart and constricting of their lungs. "When I was younger," she tells him, "we'd come here every summer. You know, when Paris grew overrun with tourists, and I was on break from school. My papa would put me on his shoulders and I'd feel on top of the world. No fear of falling. I feel like I've been searching for that feeling ever since."

He wants to give her that. Wants to wrap her in his arms and soothe every ache. He knows it's some infatuation and, at first, he thought he was thinking with his dick, not his head. Now, he thinks he's thinking with his heart. She talks of feelings he forgot, buried deep inside his childhood self and forgot the wonder of. She's an innocent rush within a darkling.

"I used to beg to drive me parents car," Alex tells her, "when I was 5 or 6. One time, me mum sat me on her lap. We were in some abandoned parking lot. She let me drive the car around. She'd press the gas and break, of course, because I couldn't reach it but I steered and everything. Sometimes I wish for that control back."

"But you didn't even have it then," Lottie points out.

His brows furrow. He doesn't understand what she's saying. "What?" He had his hands on the wheel then. Now, it feels like he's strapped to the roof of the car.

"You weren't the one driving. Your mum decided when you stopped or started."

Something clicks in him. A knot gets undone. The analogy doesn't stop the car he's in from speeding down the highway but he feels he can ride with it, at least be in the backseat. "You're making me out to be one of those creepy boys obsessed with their mothers."

She wheezes. "It sounds like you're just fond of your mum, which is good. You haven't said anything too weird yet."

They're at a stoplight but their hands are still together, neither making a move to change that. He turns to look her in the eye. "Yet?" He squints at her.

"Are you an only child?"

He drops his jaw in an offended manner. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She drops her jaw in a chagrin manner. "You are!"

"What's wrong with that?"

She giggles at his affrontement. "Nothing. You're the one getting all frustrated about it."

He can't help but laugh along with her. "I am not."

Lottie points a finger at him. "Yes, you are."

They reach the peak, although it goes unnoticed amongst their laughter. Lottie turns to the view. "Here we are."

"Wow," Alex utters. They stand atop a peak of stairs looking outwards on an urban floral boom. Flowers line the cement down to the townhomes that stand on the ground floor. The town hall tower stands through the midst of buildings—Saint Michael's back to them.

"Let me get your picture." Lottie holds up her camera—a little yellow thing with a bright smiley face sticker on the front.

"What?"

She urges him forward. "Come on, you gave me the record. I'll give you a picture." He stands centered at the top of the stairs. His pose is awkward, unable to figure out where to place his hands. Her record in its bag hangs in his hand and he brushes a hand through his hair, although it does little to tame it. She snaps it leaving her with a bright smiley face.

"What's this building here?" Alex gestures beside them.

"The Magritte Museum, I think. That's what the sign says. Do you want to go in?" She's looking at him excitedly, fuck, he would do anything for that to continue.

He nods and they walk up to the porticoes where she admires every inch. "I think I could have been an architect in another life," Lottie tells him.

"Why not this life?" He asks.

"I suck at math."

He pays for the tickets with his credit card even if it means he's slapped with a large conversion fee. In the elevator, smushed together with 6 other people, he can't help but look at her. When their eyes meet, he feels something in him unlodge. Like that lump that's been stuck in his throat for the past 6 months has finally gone down. At last, he can breathe again.

When they reach the top floor, she reaches back for his hand and pulls him through the halls of the museum. He smiles down at their intertwined hands because what art is better than her touch? He's known her for 2 hours and he's saying shit like that. Fuck.

It's around Magritte's impressionist period that Alex finally has to whisper into Lottie's ear, "What the fuck drugs was this man on?"

She giggles, eyes trained on the painting "The Stroke of Luck" or, really, a pig dressed in a suit at a graveyard. "It's surrealistic, not drug-fueled mania."

"Then why is the pig looking at me like that?" He whispers and she giggles once more. That pig is eyeing him down and he knows it. Its eyes will follow him to every corner of the room, he swears.

"It's like Animal Farm," she tries to explain.

"Orwell?"

She nods. "Precisely."

"We should have gotten the audio tour. I don't understand anything," Alex whines.

"Don't doubt yourself. The pig feels pleasure at a cemetery. He stares at you insidiously. And you know, all men are pigs so."

She giggles from her riposte as he exclaims, "Hey! We aren't all bad."

Lottie rolls her eyes, but she knows. "Well, most are. Magritte doesn't seem like such a pig." She lets go of his hand and flounces off to the next section. He stands to watch.

At the end of the section, he asks her beneath a painting, "What's it mean?"

Her head tilts down from staring up. "The French or the painting?"

Alex huffs. "Both, probably."

"Well," she informs him, "the French is 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe' 'This is not a pipe.'"

He shakes his head in confusion. "But aren't I looking at a pipe?" He's staring at it, painted to near perfection. The shades in mahogany wood are clear. The cursive lettering insisting that it is, in fact, not a pipe.

She insists, "No. What are you looking at?"

"A pipe," he insists.

"But is it? It is both a pipe and not a pipe."

"Huh?"

"Could you smoke it?"

"No."

"Then it isn't a pipe."

He smirks.

"You get it now, don't you?"

"Magritte is a fucking genius."

She bursts out laughing so loud she has to clutch her mouth to contain the disruption. They quickly dart out of that room into the next.

Before Anne-Marie Crowet, Alex leans over and says, "It looks like you."

"The painting?"

He nods. "Not exactly. Not nearly as pretty as you."

She purses her lips. "You're trying to be suave."

"How am I doing?"

She just smiles.

They sit in the park afterward. It's across the museum and their feet hurt from standing in front of paintings for too long. They're on the grass, feeling every inch as the breeze breathes through them. He lies back on his hands and she sits in a criss-cross, picking at the little flowers that sprout from the dirt. She plucks one out and shifts over to him. He thinks she's going to hand it to him but she doesn't. She brushes his hair behind his left ear and places it there.

His heart is running a marathon and she looks pleased, the beauty of a flower growing from the earth or the sun at dawn or her. He has to do what he's been fighting against since his eyes met hers in the train window back in St. Pancras. He takes her face into his hands and kisses her. It's slow-moving but transmutes his system. She floods into him and his shore welcomes the wreckage. There's no point in stopping it and he can't think of a single reason why he shouldn't.

She pulls away from him with that oh-so-bright smile and rests her forehead on his. "I was worried I was going to have to make the first move."

"I just wanted to be sure."

"Pussy," she jokes. She giggles while she says it and he thinks she doesn't get to say the word often because she says it like a kid who whispers curse words behind their parents' back.

His hand is holding her cheek so delicately like her porcelain skin might shatter. "Just not a pig."

Her smile is overwhelming. She shakes her head lightly. "Not in the slightest." Kissing him again and shining light through all the cracks within him.

She leans upon him for a few moments. Head on his shoulder and heart in his hands. "What would you be doing right now if I hadn't become my tour guide?" She asks.

"Probably picked up some other girl," he jokes.

She elbows him. "Funny. You're trying to be funny."

Alex chuckles at her reaction. His arm brushes up her side and soothes her into him. "No, I'd probably be wandering around aimlessly having no clue where to go. Probably still trying to figure out how to get out of the train station. What about you?"

Her face changes and retracts. She stares off and hides herself away from his sights. "I don't know." He can tell she's lying when she shrugs him off.

"You can tell me," Alex tries to urge. "Or not. Whatever you want."

"I don't mean to depress the conversation." She looks back over at him. "Probably visit my bomma's grave. And sightseeing and such. Sorry to bring the light out of the conversation."

Alex shakes his head. "You're not. I want to hear about these things." Her mouth forms a small upturn. "Would you like to go?"

"No, I'll go another time," she tells him.

Alex stands up and reaches his hand down to her. "You should go. I'd like to come too if that's alright. If you would want that. I don't want to impose or anything."

She grabs his hand and he pulls her up. "You wouldn't be. I don't want to force you. We can meet up later if you'd like or part here, you know, I had a great time."

They're both too caught up in their rambling trying not to come off too strong. "No, no, you wouldn't be forcing me. I don't want to ruin your plans at all."

She finally grabs his hand. "Alex, let's go." She pulls him off the grass back onto the street. "It's up in Molenbeek so you can see a new part of the city. She's been dead for over a decade so it's not like I'll be weeping at her gravestone. I felt I had to go while I was here. Haven't been here since her funeral."

"Don't feel any pressure to hold anything in while I'm here. I want to know what you are feeling."

"Even though it's sad going to her gravestone, but being here in Brussels, remembering those things I did with her makes me happy. To be honest, I'm happy doing it with you. I think I'd be depressed walking around the city all by myself but sharing it with someone—with you—is a whole new pleasure. Thank you."

Alex shakes his head. "You don't have to thank me. I should be thanking you. You've been saving my butt here all day with your help."

"Well, you do have a nice butt that wouldn't be worth it to the world to risk." She is the glowing light around. A modern-day Aurora, except he's Sleeping Beauty, and she's snapping him out of the haze he has been locked in.

"You're pretty fucking beautiful too." She leans into him and puts her head on his shoulder while they walk. He kisses the top of her head and he feels like he has done this in a million other lifetimes. Whatever path the course of his life went down, he ends up here with her every time whether it's Brussels or Paris or London or Sheffield or the damn Moon. She's there.

His arm wraps around her shoulder and she guides the way with ease like she built these streets for them to walk down. She knows every curve and never leads them down the wrong way. She stops him from nearly getting hit by a bike and laughs at the little scream he lets out. Despite the gravity of where they are headed, she's smiling and joking around with him (or maybe about him) and he can't help but love every second of it. He never wants it to let up.

"When I was a baby, I got sick, some infant kind of sickness, and I was a crying baby, especially with this cold. My maman was beyond exhausted and she still had my brother to care for and my dad was working. My bomma came and the day she arrived everything cleared up. I wasn't sick anymore and I barely cried. She joked that my mother had made the whole thing up to get a visit out of her but my maman always says that I could feel the comfort of my bomma coming and I wanted to be on my best behavior. That's the relationship we always had."

Alex gazes down at her. Her eyes steady ahead but glance up at him with every passing sentence. He brushes his thumb back and forth on her head enclosed in his. "That's a great story."

"Yeah." She smiles in remembrance.

"You were very close?"

She nods. "Emotionally. Belgium wasn't too far but we always had distance and as she got older we had to travel to see her, which was mainly during holidays. Every time it was like a hug. The kind that is so warm you want to lie in their arms forever."

The cemetery is filled with trees, spring blooming in the distance. Their walk through the yard is silent. She lets go of his hand and stands before a small headstone, pulling a flower she picked from the park down on top of the stone. "When I was 5 or something, my bompa died. I don't remember much of him. He was a quiet man, especially compared to bomma. He was cremated and wanted to be tossed into this lake he fished at and we are going there and my bomma has his ashes in the little urn and she goes to pour them and the urn is empty. She keeps shaking it even though nothing is in there and she turns back to all of us, shrugs, and says, 'I knew he'd run out on me eventually.'"

She giggles so he feels permission to laugh. "What happened with his ashes?"

"Oh." Lottie laughs harder, which feels inappropriate for a cemetery but they are in a relatively secluded area. "She left it back at home. She brought the wrong urn to the funeral."

Alex chuckles and she grabs his hand. "We can go now if you'd like," she offers.

"We can stay however long you'd like." He doesn't want to rush her in any way. He can watch her stand in front of the grave and listen to her stories forever.

She shakes her head. "I'm good. I just wanted to think of her for a while. I'm ready for lunch. You need some mussels."

"Are you insulting my physique?" Alex jests, looking down at his triceps.

She laughs at him. "The food. Not the human variety."

Her feet clobber all over the street and his heart as she leads him to a restaurant. "I need to ask you something." They're going down that large hill now. It's easier than climbing it but now they have to worry about the fall.

"Yes?" She throws a smile back at him and he's losing his balance.

With his arm around her shoulder and her hand holding his hand, he asks her, "We've avoided the whole subject of boyfriends/girlfriends. You've got a fella waiting for you back home?"

She's smirking as if she could burst into laughter at any moment. "Would it change anything if I did?"

His eyebrows are raised but he's amused by her evasiveness, even if it concerns him. "Probably not. I've had my tongue down your throat."

"Ew." She squishes her nose up in this cute little wrinkled mess. It makes him want to kiss her, so he does. It's a wonder they don't trip over anything as he lays one on her. "To answer your question, no, not really."

"Not really?"

She twists out from under his arm like they're ballroom dancing. She walks backward sleekly down the hill, facing him. "I do this kind of thing in every country."

"Very funny." He chuckles but he wants an answer. "But seriously."

She returns to under his arm. "No, I haven't dated anyone since my porn-addicted boyfriend. That ended about 2 months ago and my therapist has been trying to get me back with him since then. You?"

He should have expected that, yet, he still feels that he has to let his guard down now. "That's kind of why I'm here."

"You're visiting your girlfriend?" Despite her joking about possible partners back in Paris, he feels her tense up at the idea of this.

Alex shakes his head. "No, kinda running away from it. I had a girlfriend for about a year or so and finally got to see her for an extended period since we've been long distance and right when I arrived, I got the feeling she wished it had stayed that way. She broke up with me about a week later. It's part of the reason why I'm here. Just need to have some time away from everything."

"The madness of everything?" Part of Alex thinks she knows who he is, but her eyes don't give that away. She just seems to understand what's going on in his mind.

"Yeah."

"Well," she sighs, "I'm sorry about the girlfriend."

Alex chuckles looking down on her face—looking up at him with a hidden grin. "No, you're not."

She giggles. "Duh." It's so adorable, sweet and teeth-rotting, he has to kiss her again. Teeth collide as she laughs away and they might nearly get hit by a car but it feels worth it.

Over a moules-frites and a beer each, she tells him, "I don't think I could do long distance."

Alex wipes away the remnants of beer lip. "Me and me girlfriend couldn't either. Clearly."

"I don't know why people feel such a pressure to make things work, you know. I had this boyfriend who went for a semester abroad in America and when he was there, he got an American girlfriend but still felt this need to make our relationship work even after he told me about her. I don't see it as a big deal, especially at our age. Why do we feel such a need to make relationships work? It's unrealistic to be with the same person forever, let alone at this age."

Alex shrugs. "I think we either feel a need to be like our parents or make up for our parents."

She continues her rant and he intently listens. "Exactly. I don't think things are meant to last. The greatest things have ended. But yet with relationships, even when we make mistakes, we feel the need to make it work. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes you don't have to force it."

"You feel very passionate about this kind of thing." Alex wants to make it clear he isn't mocking her. "I like it."

She rolls her eyes. "Passion is the key. Why shouldn't we go for the things that make us feel the most? I don't understand this whole 'tough it out.' Why should I deal with my porn-addict boyfriend? Why can't I just date a boy who isn't addicted to porn?"

"I don't think I have a porno issue," Alex adds.

"My therapist would not like you."

Alex tells her, "I think you should tough things out when they feel worth it. The struggle is sometimes what makes the outcome so good. When I've struggled with writing a song and then it's done, it's the accomplishment that keeps me going."

She's grinning at him. "You write songs?"

Alex is flushed red and trying to hide his head in his chest like a turtle. "Yeah, but we're not going to talk about that."

"Why not?" She's eager, he can tell, and if she really wanted to hear one, he'd play her something, but right now he wants to shield all that behind him.

"Because I don't want to tough that out." He uses her words against her. "I think the hard stuff can be worth it. That's all."

"You have a good point. I'm not getting back with my porno boyfriend though."

"Please don't." He doesn't want to sound like he's begging but he might be.

She explains further, "The impertinence of things is what makes them so wonderful in the first place, you know."

"Like some Hanging Gardens of Babylon shit?" His mouth is full of fries and he feels like he needs a kids' menu or something.

"So beautiful but we aren't even sure if it ever existed, right?"

He nods and finally swallows his chewing. "Partially. I don't think they ever found any physical evidence but they know the King of Babylon had these gardens built for his wife, who was a Persian princess or something. It was to help with her homesickness for the green forests of her home."

She chuckles. "You study this or something?"

"Read a book about it." It was actually a short article but a book sounds more impressive.

Her smile twists up and it twists his guts too. She lowers her eyes over him like she's examining him. "You're an impressive surprise."

"You don't expect me to read books?" He questions.

She shakes her head at him in disbelief. "Not about the Hanging Gardens of Babylon."

The sun has begun to set by the time they've left the restaurant, but their conversation of impertinence rings in his ears. After everything back home, he can't help but agree with her, but he can't help but panic about saying goodbye to her. He's holding tight and in no rush to let go.

They're walking slowly this time, in no rush to explore the city, instead focusing on knowing the way around one another. "Would you ever get married?" She asks him.

"You proposing?" The rush it brings to his chest is alarming.

She leans his head on his shoulder and wraps her arms around his chest. He hugs her close to him, fitting into one another completely. "Seriously. I've thought about this and I'm still not sure. I don't like the idea of marriage but I could imagine it for myself. It's a romantic idea and as much as I might not project that I'm a romantic person."

Alex points out, "You've been walking around with a complete stranger all day. That sounds like something a romantic would do."

"You're not a stranger to me anymore." It's the kiss that follows this sentence that seals it for him.

"I think I could marry someone if it felt right. I'd only want to do it once. If it didn't work out I don't think I'd give it another try," Alex confesses.

"Why not?"

"I failed at it once with someone I thought I could make it with. I wouldn't want to put that on another person again."

"What if it wasn't your fault? Like the other person did something unforgivable."

"Then, I never really knew that person. I think that's a little bit on me if I mistake a person for something they're not. That shite doesn't usually come out of nowhere."

She hums. "You're very intelligent, Alex."

He chuckles, slightly confused by the compliment. "Thanks."

"Emotionally. You don't find many men like that. At our age. Even at my parents' age." He doesn't feel like a man. So close to childish kooks and still having his mum do his laundry but she's earnestly saying it so he doesn't vocally disagree.

"I have a ticking clock in me. You can have kids at any age."

"I don't exactly have the passion to be a 70-year-old father."

She shrugs. "I don't even think I want children. They're too sticky."

A half hour or so later, they enter a sticky bar where she squeals about how cool it looks, which, in her defense, she's right. It's through this long hallway that looks like you're entering a church with stained glass windows before you enter a room that looks like Ozzy Osbourne pissed all over the place.

Gathered around a table in the corner with two drinks between them, they make out. It's not some impassioned tongue-down-each-other's-throats kind of kissing where you think the couple is about to have sex right in the middle of the bar. They're in a hidden, dark corner and it's the first time today when they haven't been in broad daylight. And, yeah, it is probably a bit sleazy looking but it feels overwhelmingly necessary for both of them to do.

"People are going to start throwing money at us," she says.

"What?"

"Like at a gentlemen's club or something," she explains.

Alex laughs and he unintentionally rubs his nose against hers and she wrinkles it up, all freckled and fucking cute. She separates them and sips her cocktail, prompting him to sip his bourbon. "Maybe I'll do that."

He snorts and the bourbon nearly drips out of his nose. "Be a stripper?"

She giggles at his reaction. "From nanny to stripper. No, I feel lost is all."

"Sometimes the best things come from being lost." Alex feels his mouth being forced to smile and he can't hide anything from her. "I was lost when I found you."

She blushes and, fuck, he's screwed. Her cheeks are pink and she's cherubic but at the same time talking about being a stripper and he wants to glue himself to this seat and watch her blush forever.

She leans forward placing her head on hand. She looks like Juliet standing on a balcony and, he supposes that makes him Romeo or at least Paris, which means he's going to die for her either way and he almost slaps himself because this isn't some Shakespearean tragedy and she's sitting right in front of him breathing, reaching her hand out for his, which he kisses the back of, which is very Shakespearean, so this might kill him.

"You make me flustered," she confesses.

It blows him away because he's 100% been the fool this whole time to this dream girl. "Seriously?"

She drops her hand from his and leans back, sipping away, keeping her glass in her hand. "Yeah, you're always saying these things and I'm stuck talking about being a stripper and rambling about my lack of direction and ex-boyfriend."

Alex wraps his arm around her shoulder and leans over to whisper in her ear. The bar is loud but he also just wants to be closer to her. "Can I tell you something?"

She motions for him to continue.

"I feel like the biggest fucking idiot talking to you. I basically feel like I'm gonna shit myself every time I open my mouth. You're very intimidating, Charlotte."

She gags at the sound of her full name. "How can I be intimidating?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're like some angel. I'm convinced there is a halo hidden under that head of hair."

She rolls her eyes and pulls away from him to face him more. "See there you go again being only Mr. Cool Guy. You do this kind of thing all the time. You know exactly how to make the girls swoon for you."

"I'm kind of interested in making only one girl swoon."

"Stop talking! It's like you're trying to kill me."

"How do you think I feel? I'm the idiot begging this beautiful French girl to help me after I stared at her the whole train ride."

She smirks. "You stared at me the whole train ride?"

He throws his head back and pinches his nose. He groans and she's laughing at him and how can you not feel like the fool when she's making him do shit like this? "I'm a major creep but I swear I'm not going to murder you."

She huffs. "Oh, how promising. Next, you're going to take me down a dark alley and I'll mysteriously disappear."

Alex hunches over the table and rubs his face. "You're making me feel worse."

She grabs both her shoulders and squeezes them. "Don't get in your head about it. It's a labyrinth in there. I'm here and you're here and I think we both know how we feel so no pressure. We don't have to ever see each other again if we find out things about the other we don't like. I don't think you're going to kill me and you shouldn't worry much about a girl who couldn't even win a thumb wrestle if her life depended on it."

Alex doesn't want to think about never seeing her again but he's done keeping his guard up and he's going to make the most of this day, even if it's the only one they spend together. "You want to thumb wrestle?"

She pulls back with a gasp. "You just want to feel like a winner. Piece of shit."

"Fine," he chuckles, "tell me a secret. What have you been hiding from me?" He hit his shoulder with hers before wrapping his arm back around her.

She toys with the ends of her hair. "Euh," she says, eyes cast away from him, and roughly bites her lip, "I left my book on the train on purpose."

Alex stares at her and suddenly everything shifts. He isn't the only fool. "Is that a technique you use? Pick up men through book leaving methods."

She giggles and finally meets his eyes, sparkling. "No, no. I had finished the book on the train and I, well, I could tell you were watching me. I'm sorry I acted like I couldn't but it made me seem like less of a sap if I didn't know. I figured if you were watching me, you'd return it, and if not I would lose the book. I'm glad I wasn't wrong."

He gazes. The entire day reframed in his mind. "You..." He isn't sure what to say. He's yielded completely but trapped thoroughly. "I can't believe it."

She smirks. "Worked out pretty good too."

"Holy shit" is all he can utter. His mouth gapes open and shut multiple times before he can even think of a thing to say. "And here I thought I was the sap."

She tilts her head back. "I'm a total maple."

"Maple?"

She explains by saying, "Maple sap."

Alex is overcome with laughter and completely dazed by her. "Can I steal that?"

She inches close to him and plays with his hand on the arm that is around her. "What's your secret?"

Alex admits he walked into that one. The unavoidable shielding he's been doing ever since he got on the train to Brussels. It's not that he's full of himself thinking she'll know him or know the band but the whole purpose, or part of it, was to get away from that part. After a year that most people wouldn't experience in a lifetime, he needed to escape himself.

"I'm sort of running away from that," he tells her.

"What? Did you kill someone?"

He awkwardly laughs. He's frazzled. Back against the wall and he sighs, it shouldn't be this big of a deal. "No, I've had this big year with me band and we're doing our second album now which is the first break we've had in a long time but it's not really a break since we're making this album. I love doing it but after the whole thing with me girlfriend, I just sort of feel like I'm not even meself anymore."

"So you went to somewhere where no one would know you," Lottie guesses.

Alex nods. "Sometimes I think the person I need to escape is me." He's been sucked into the black hole of himself. A constant loop of overthinking and ever since things ended with Johanna, he's been thinking that all he does is suck the life out of everyone else, including himself. He knows it isn't true. At least, not completely. The band is great and the guys are great but he's losing touch with everything he'd ever known. He doesn't talk about it much, not even with the guys, but he feels flipped on his head, drowned, and unable to come up for air, and the tide is only getting higher.

"It makes sense," she tells him. He looks down and she's looking back at him with those drowning blues and suddenly he's breathing again. The ocean is in her eyes and not suffocating him anymore. "The person you spend the most time with is yourself. I think I'm a horrible person most of the time but you do your best to find people who don't make you feel that way. If you're really lucky you found people that make you actually feel like a good person."

Alex pulls her closer and leans down, placing his lips close to hers, but not touching them. "You make me feel that way," he whispers.

He can see her smile, teeth like pearls in an oyster, allowing him to be whoever he wants. "You do too. For me." He kisses her. It's soft and serene and he's eager and she's eager, both tugging at one another. Her mouth tastes like cherries and he holds her face and she tugs on her lower lip. He's not going to force her to do anything more with him but he thinks she's thinking what he's thinking like they have the same mind and are joined in the ideas of one another.

She's heavy when they pull back. Red cheeks and out of breath talking. "Do you want to walk around more?"

Alex will follow wherever Lottie leads. He pays their tab and grabs her hand to walk the stone roads once more. The sky has grown dark and a light flickers outside the bar where a group of people stand smoking. The street is relatively empty, besides a few stragglers who are returning from work or couples reaching the end of dates.

He wonders if people think they are a couple. It would be an understandable assumption. They stand with their hands intertwined. Her other hand is wrapped around his elbow and her head lays on the corner of his shoulder. She seems sleepy whether from exhaustion or her drink.

They walk lazily down the street with no direction in mind, no need to end up anywhere. "I like Brussels at night," Lottie quietly says.

The night is placid and her body is warm. "Me too."

She stops them on a street corner and lifts her head. "Where were you planning on sleeping tonight?"

He's not trying to get his hopes up. Maybe this is goodbye. He doesn't think it, prays it isn't, but isn't sure of anything, except the way he feels. "I was going to look for a vacancy somewhere. You?"

Lottie tries to hide her smile. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen, like a child trying to hide a cookie they've stolen from the jar behind their back. "I wasn't planning on staying the night. I was supposed to go back to Paris about an hour ago."

Alex tries his best not to use wishful thinking but come on. "Are you going to go back tonight?"

She shakes her head.

"Do you want to—"

"Yeah."

He's not a horny person. He's not a porno addict, he's not obsessive with women's bodies, he's not thinking of sex, boobs, or ass every minute of the day but, fuck, does the blood rush south quickly.

She resumes their walking and, again, he's not trying to rush her but it takes everything in him not to bolt directly to the nearest visible hotel even if it looks like a place where sex rings are located. He holds his pace but then he feels her step quicken and he tries to not hold his breath but he's already out of it.

"Does this look fine?" She points somewhere.

"Yeah." It could be a bench. He doesn't fucking care.

It's a Hilton. Nice, clean, generic. It doesn't matter as long as it has a bed.

Lottie talks to the women at the front desk in French. He doesn't understand any of it. She hands Lottie a set of keycards and tells her, "Vous êtes dans la chambre cinq cent cinq."

Suddenly, they're heading off toward the elevators. "Did you pay for it? You didn't have to pay for it. I'm the one making you stay the night here."

Lottie presses the down button. "You're not forcing me to be here against my will."

"At least, let me pay for half," he insists.

"You can write me a check." They walk in the elevator and she presses the 5 button.

He taps his foot. He can't touch her. If he touches her right now, he'll fuck her. She's giving him bedroom eyes and a heartache and he thinks she might eat him alive and he thinks he might let her, if she's the kind of food that gives her salvation. He'll be the victim if she's the vampire.

She unlocks the door and turns on the lights. The room is basic and the sight of the one lone bed confirms everything he needs to know in his mind.

Then she turns around and says, "I'm not having sex with you."

Alex tries his best to not look disappointed and he thinks he does a decent job besides the quiver of a smile on Lottie's lips. "That's alright. I can sleep on the floor if you'd like."

A smile overwhelms her face. She's dipping into a fit of giggles before she throws her bag into the lone chair in the corner of the room. "I presume you have a condom. All men seem to have a condom in their wallet during these situations."

Alex scratches the back of his head. He tries to answer simply, "Uh, yeah." But she just told him they weren't having sex so the condom that sits in the hidden pouch of his wallet doesn't seem as useful.

"When I lost my virginity, the guy I lost it to pulled out a whole string of Trojans and threw them on my bed." She tells the story through laughter, recalling the details best as her traumatized mind will allow. "He had to have had at least 20 as if he even lasted long enough to count the first time as sex. He fell asleep about 2 minutes after."

Her giggles prompted him to tell her, "The girl I lost mine to provided the condoms because I was too nervous to buy them."

She claps her hands in delight. She's sitting on the edge of the bed. He keeps his distance, unsure of what she wants him to do. He leans against the wall, knee propped up, hands in his pockets.

"My porno boyfriend wasn't too good at sex, which is extra annoying because you'd think he'd know how to do it based on the amount he was watching."

Alex laughs and shrugs. "Isn't most porn kind of made for men anyway? It's just a woman writhing around at the slightest touches."

Her eyebrow is raised and the left side of her mouth smirks. "Have you read The Second Sex?"

"Is that some smutty novel?"

She bursts out laughing and he figures he made himself sound like an idiot. "You read romance novels?"

Alex recalls, "My friend, Matt—he's the drummer in the band—read one to us once. It talked about throbbing members a lot."

"Does your member ever throb?"

He isn't sure what she is asking him. "Have I ever gotten hard before?" He tries his best to decipher.

She ignores his question and asks, "How many girlfriends have you had?"

Alex answers, "Uh, 3, I guess. None of them really long-term until my last." She nods like she's studying him. She might as well be holding a pen and notepad in her hand and taking notes on him. "What about you?"

She avoids the question and becomes snarky. "I haven't had any girlfriends."

"Good one," he approves. "You should be a journalist. You’re very nosy."

She bends down and undoes her shoes with a smile pointed at him. "Sex is weird," she voices. "The idea of putting yourself in someone else or having someone else inside you and it being pleasurable is one of the funniest ideas I've ever heard."

He shrugs. "Why? I think being with someone, feeling so close to them, you want to be the closest you can possibly be, and that concept brings pleasure. It makes sense. I don't think sex is completely about that. The pleasure part."

"What do you think it's about?"

"The vulnerability of it. I mean, being comfortable enough with a person to be naked in front of them, let alone, allowing them to be a part of that nakedness, take part in your body. The goal is to give this other person relief. To bring them this immeasurable ecstasy." He looks down at his shoes. If he looks at her, he'll probably bust a nut. "I think it's one of the last untouchable things. I suppose until we're having sex with robots and all that."

He sighs and meets her eyes. She's blinking at him, slow and carefully, as if she's in a daze. He thinks he went on for too long and weirded her out with talks of being naked, ecstasy, and sex robots. Probably thinks he's trying to force her into something. Then, she bends down and unties her shoes. "I decided I was going to have sex with you when you said I looked like Anne-Marie Crowet. The rest has just been foreplay."

She leaves him speechless again. He isn't sure if that's the go-ahead or if she's just informing him until she stands up and takes off her dress and he's pretty sure his heart is in need of a defibrillator.

Her back is to him and the blue of her underwear is imprinted in his mind. She looks over her shoulder and teases, "Do I have to do the whole thing myself?"

He swallows a chuckle and tries his best to stand up straight. He pulls off his dirty trainers and makes his way over to her. His arms wrap around her and it's like the first time he's touching her all over again. The delicate movements he makes as if he might burn himself at the slightest touch of her.

Lottie helps him out and leans forward touching her boobs to his chest. She fiddles with the bottom of his shirt and he nods for her to pull it off of him. The lace of her bra imprints itself on his skin and he thinks it'll leave a tattoo. The roughness of the material combined with the feeling of her nipples poking into him makes the blood rush with such speed he thinks he becomes lightheaded. She's got this hungry look that kind of drives him a little crazy.

Then, her mouth is on his. It's red hot, hot and heavy, rough, but the way his hand lands on her cheeks brings a sweetness to it neither can endure thinking about for long when trains leave the station all the time and people never return.

He kisses her neck. It's right there, a stretch of soft skin begging to be touched. They stumble blindly toward the bed. The mattress bounces as they fall onto it and a squeal emits from her lips that breaks any remaining tension and makes both of them laugh, teeth clashing, both too hungry for it to pull away to breathe fully.

She sits up enough for him to undo her bra. It's thrown back, scattered with the other clothes. She urges him to remove his jeans, "It's only fair. Equal opportunity."

"I'll show you equal opportunity." He's kissing her neck then mouthing her left breasts, kissing everywhere. Every expanse of skin. She's warm, warming up every inch of him. He tries not to rub against her too much for fear he might implode as he grows harder by the millisecond. He's dizzy, drunk off her skin, drunk off her boobs, drunk off the giggle she lets out when he kisses her belly button, drunk off her.

Alex nudges her legs apart as he trails his mouth down her stomach. He kisses her clit over the fabric of those blue panties. She groans and he's in deep. His hands edge the line of the underwear but he looks up to know for sure. She gives a head nod and he drags them down her legs slowly. He wants her to feel what he's felt. This waiting, the wanting, while she's called the shots. He wants her under his thumb now.

He feels the crevices of her. Slowly, he moves his hands inward down the lines that connect her legs to the rest of her body. He touches his nose to the area above her clit, teases her, wants to please her but wants her to need it. Suddenly, her hands are in his hair, threaded through his strands, not pushing him down but urging him. He gives in then.

She tightens her hold on the strands of hair and if she were to pull any harder she might rip a few out. She lets out this noise halfway between a whine and a moan, and he feels addicted. Desperate to hear it again. She's some fucked-up form of heroin, the water after the desert, the tang of the lime after the tequila, the first flower after the kind of winter that cracks your skin.

He dives in heavier, sucks her clit, and it makes her gasp and makes him restless but he isn't going to let up. He stops and kisses her inner thigh, which only angers her as she drags his head back to her center. He laughs into her pussy and it makes her push his head down heavier. "Please."

"Please what?" He lifts his head and he thinks she might slap him.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me?"

"Fuck me," she begs and he grins, scruffy and desperate himself. He puts his fingers in her and you'd think he fed her a 3-course meal after months of only eating a shitty bag of petrol station crisps. He never considered himself to be too great at this kind of thing but she's shaking and he thinks he might be too but he's too focused on her to notice. She's crying out, coming, shaking, and breathless.

Alex wipes his mouth on his arm and kisses his way back up her body. Lottie leans up to capture his lips in a hungry, rabid kind of way, pushing him down on the bed. She snaps his waistband and he lets out a little scream, which makes her giggle, and it's a form of tit for tat. "You're annoying." She straddles him and he thumbs her hips.

"I don't know what you're referring to."

She crosses her arms. "Fine. You can sleep on the floor now."

"Only if you join me."

He leans up and kisses her and any teasing seems to have been forgotten because she reaches down and pushes off his boxers. Her fingers fumble before stroking him as if he isn't hard enough. "You've got quite the throbbing member." It's these tiny things that leave him rough and reeling and pushing any thought of never seeing her again out of his mind.

Alex pushes her over so she's on her back. He kisses her and says, "I need to get my wallet." She lets out a laugh as he goes to retrieve it. She sits up and watches him tear the packet with his teeth. Keeps watching him while he rolls it on, biting down on her lips, she pulls him close again, and touches him over it. Alex kisses her, long and good, trying to say everything he can't say out loud.

Everything becomes hazy. A mess as he enters her slowly before urgency takes over and she hooks her left leg over his hip and pushes him deep. A string of incoherent syllables fall from her lips and her brows draw together so tightly he sticks his thumb out to smooth it out. She catches his hand and kisses his palm. He hits this spot in her that forces this hitched gasp out of her and he swears he nearly cums from just that. She holds him tight, nails digging into his back. She could be drawing blood but he doesn't care. It feels good, everything feels good, electrifying, and killing. It's hard and rough and a real fuck if he's ever had one.

But it's more than that too because she keeps catching his gaze and holding it. Her arms are around his neck insisting he keeps his eyes on her, not that he'd look away, he doesn't have a choice but to take her in. She moans his name and Alex forgets for a moment that they are two bodies. He doesn't think his body belongs to him anymore. Its only purpose is to fulfill her.

He hits that spot again and she falls over the edge with a caught breath, nails digging deeper into his shoulder blades as he fucks her through it. For a moment, he's completely detached from himself, it's only her, nothing else, only her. Then, it's too much, and he's releasing into the condom and his body is on top of hers in a heaping pile of sweat-slick limbs and trembling bodies. His face is buried into the crook of her neck and he might suffocate himself.

Her arms are tight around him as if he might fly away into the night sky with a puff of smoke. He can feel her pulse race and the thought that he did that to her makes him want to already do it again. He presses his lips in the hollow of her neck and lifts his head. She brushes his hair back, all a mess in his eyes and he probably needs a haircut but who the fuck cares when her hands are running through it. "Is it always that good for you?" She whispers.

He's still out of breath as he shakes his head. "Fuck no." He doesn't want to remove himself from her but he disposes of the condom and she pees but they meet back in the middle.

The room is hot, even with the AC, it was cool when they entered but they've stunk it up with sex. She lies on top of his chest and his arms wrap around her and he has never had a girl fit so perfectly into that curve of him. As if they are curved for one another. "Best song to have sex to? Go."

He chuckles, still spent from what just happened but thinks. "I don't know like Marvin Gaye or something."

"Good answer," she approves.

"What's yours?"

"You know that Crazy Frog song." He doesn't think he's ever laughed harder in his life.

They run into an issue about a makeout session later. You see, Alex only had the one condom but is currently nursing a throbbing member, and Lottie isn't exactly cold either. "You think they sell them at the front desk?" She asks.

He throws his head back on the pillow. He can't keep making out with her because he can't go down in the hotel lobby with a raging erection. "I can't ask that poor lady at the front desk."

She bites her thumbnail in contemplation. "There's probably a store open down the street."

"Okay." He stands up and swiftly pulls on his boxers. "You can take a shower." She complained about being too hot and sweaty for about the last 20 minutes. "I'll get enough condoms to put virginity guy to shame."

She opens her mouth dramatically. "What are you planning on doing to me, Alexander?"

And, yeah, he nearly trips trying to get his jeans on after that. "I'll be back in 10 minutes tops. Do you want anything?"

She stands up on her knees on the mattress, the sheet is wrapped around her, and it's like she's trying to tempt him into a bad idea. "Oh, oh, oh!" She says excitedly. "You know those Lindt chocolates?" He nods, amused by her enthusiasm. "Get those but not the assorted kind, just the milk chocolate."

So, there he is at some grocery store, scared to buy condoms and chocolate for fear they'll talk to him in French. But the cashier is busy talking to his friend and doesn't so much as glance down at Alex or what he is scanning.

On the walk back (he thinks about running but that would probably be too dorky), Alex starts to spiral a little. Mainly at what has occurred in the past hours and the impending following hours. After their night together, what's next? A goodbye. If that's what she wants, he'll do it, but he doesn't want it that way. But is he really ready for a relationship? Let alone doing long distance again? He should probably be on his own for a while. Maybe they could be friends. Maybe this is a fond memory he'll look back at in his old age and remember the blonde angel who took hold of his hand and he never wanted to drop it. Suddenly, he thinks he'll be a single lone loser who doesn't find anything or anyone better than what he has and is forced to reminisce on a lost time. Or worse, he'll be with someone, but constantly thinking about what could have been.

He shakes the thoughts out of him and returns to the hotel. It's close to midnight and the lobby is empty except for the front desk which he gives a weak "Bonjour" to. The ride up the elevator is excruciating. Now that he is no longer spiraling, he's just thinking about her, naked. He fumbles putting the keycard through the slot and nearly drops the chocolates but he pops open the door.

And there she is. Naked, freshly showered with damp hair, lying on her side with her hands between her thighs. It's like she's shot him, he almost stumbles back, the sight is so holy, and he's so unworthy.

"Do you enjoy killing men?" He asks her. She smiles, giggles, and it pierces him completely. A force moving through him. She starts to sit up slowly and he quickly yells, "No, no, no, don't move!"

She lays back down pleased. "You bossing me around?"

The chocolates and condoms hanging at his side and his mouth almost hangs open. "Just want to take in the sight." And he tries his best to memorize every curve of her, the way her hand dances up her side, and how his heart is thumping away.

"At my museum, you're allowed to touch the art," she jokes.

Alex can't wait much longer anyway. He's fast. Rips open the box of condoms, takes a packet out, pulls his jeans and shirt off before toppling all over her. It's a laughing mess but soon their lips are connected and she's urging his boxers off of him. She ends up on her back, knees at his ribs, and his body braces above hers. Alex cradles the back of her head, pulling at her hair, and swallowing all her noises, those hitches, those gasps. He loves them, loves her, he's going to miss her like hell. He can't help fucking her as if he'll never get to do it again because he might not ever do it again (besides any later rounds they might have tonight). It has to be good, perfect, flawless.

She flips them over and moves down him, kissing every few inches. His hands thread through her hair. She's teasing him like he did to her and he could let her do it but he swears he'll lose it if she kisses her stomach again. He lifts her head off of him and she seems to get the message as he fists her hair into a makeshift ponytail. She takes him in her mouth, licks him like a lollipop up the sides, and he wants to be careful with her but he can't be gentle when he's dying for it. "Come on, don't make me beg."

She lifts her head with a raised eyebrow and he groans in discomfort. "Would you?"

He thumbs her lip and she kisses it faintly. "You know I would."

She takes him all the way in. She puts a quick, great effort into taking him completely in her mouth. Her nose brushes up against his hair before pulling back slowly. She begins to bob her head, working away at him that has him muttering, "Holy shit. Fuck." His eyes stay trained on her, even if he can't help but flutter. The sight itself is enough to make him shoot a load, let alone the actual feeling of her doing it.

Right as he's about to, she lifts her head up off of him and says, "You know, we could have done all this without the condoms right."

He's antsy, needs to grab onto something, he settles for fisting her hair. He laughs at her teasing but groans and bucks his hips up like come on, finish the job. She gets the message. Works away desperately. She wants him to cum almost as badly as he wants to. She takes him down all the way again and he goes then, right down her throat. She doesn't move, doesn't choke, swallows everything, and, fuck, he could cum again just from that.

He's panting, in dire need of air but never needing it again if she's doing things like that. She wipes her mouth and giggles at his reaction. Pleased with herself, the way she puffs her chest out shows that.

She takes the condom he's been holding this whole time out of his hand. "Did we really need this?"

Alex hooks his arm around her neck. "Yeah." He forces her onto his back, kissing her. It doesn't take much to work him up again and he brushes his fingers through her pussy and she's drenched and like that, he's ready to go again or he'll make himself ready to go again. He wraps himself up and rubs himself through her, has her writhing, has her moaning, has her clawing away at him.

When he enters her again, her voice gets raspy as he moans, "Alex." She kisses his neck and shoulder, and bites down in a vain effort to keep quiet before uttering, "Yes," and he's hungry for her to do it again. Snaps his hips into her quickly causing her eyes to flutter shut. His hand thumbs her clit and she pulls on him tighter. Her legs wrap around his hips and she tries to move closer to him as if it is humanly possible.

He flicks her clit again and he never considered himself to be amazing at sex but she makes him want to be the best and she's moaning like he might be. He tries to make it last, doesn't want it to end. He pulls out almost all the way before snapping his hips forward to get her moaning. Her fingers curl around the sheets, then around his hair. His hand grazes up her, memorizing. He's deep in her, both physically and emotionally. "Fuck," she groans. He tries to be slow, but she urges quickness before ordering, "Harder." He listens, bucking into her and she's melting away unable to focus on anything. His own pleasure is secondary. He hasn't even thought about his orgasm. He needs her to finish.

Their skin is coated with a sheen of sweat and he kisses away at hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into her tightly. It's enough to choke the light out of him but he doesn't mind because she's panting and unarticulately moaning before she's coming. Their pattern becomes messy before she sends him over the edge.

She tries to catch her breath and relinquishes her hold on Alex. "Holy shit," she whispers weakly.

Alex hums in concurrence. He runs his fingers down her sides to make her shiver—a quiver comes from her lips.

"Hi there," she says. Something in him swells. He pulls her by the waist and she yelps a little, surprised, and then bites down on a grin. Reaches up to push his hair from his face and she's cracked him open like an egg and now he's just spilling out. His eyes fall shut and he wraps her up in his arms, indolent from exertion, nuzzling her nose to his.

She sighs heavily and they're stuck in the post-sex silent glow. Absorbed with one another and nothing else. Much like the rest of the day. "Are you sick of me yet?" Alex jokingly asks her. He isn't sure of himself on many things but he's sure of this. She must be feeling everything he's feeling. She has to, right?

She sits atop his chest. "Never."

He pets his hand down her now unruly hair. It gives him intense pleasure to know he did that. She dances her fingers around his body, waist to shoulder. "What's sex in French?"

She smirks, returning to their old translation game. "Sex is sex. I mean, there's faire l'amour, which is make love."

"Faire l'amour," he repeats.

"There's se branler."

"Se branler."

"Which means to jerk off."

He pulls an offended face. "I just had sex with you. I'm not jerking anything off."

She giggles. "Fine, baise-moi," she offers.

"Baise-moi."

"Fuck me."

He laughs. "I'm not that quick."

"J'ai envie de toi," she says. "I want you." She curls into him. Her hair soft and arms tight.

The impending morning hangs over their heads like an anvil. "Are we ever going to see each other again?" He asks.

They aren't looking at each other anymore. She breaks eye contact with him to stare at the ceiling and his eyes soon follow to do the same. "I don't know. I have to be back tomorrow."

"Me too," Alex says. His thumb grazes back and forth on the corner of her shoulder.

"I don't want to do long distance," she confesses. "It always fades away. You know, two people say they'll keep in touch but that's never true. You send a few texts but then you're missing each other's calls and it's a mess. I don't want to do that with you."

"Me either," he agrees. He doesn't want to repeat history and he doesn't want to do that with someone like her. Someone who he's never felt this way before.

"If this was it, would you be okay with that?" She asks.

His head is screaming No, no I wouldn't be okay with that, screw those kids, stay with me. But he's not going to lose himself in fantasy so he nods. "If that's what you want."

She averts her eyes. She looks unsure of herself but doesn't say anything and tucks herself into him. "I don't know what I want."

He kisses the top of her head. "That's okay."

In the morning, those blinds they never closed allow the Sun to wake them up. Their limbs are thrown about around the other. Her eyes flutter and it's like a butterfly taking flight as she exposes those blues. She looks at him and starts laughing. Her hand drags across the side of his face. "You have lines all over your face."

He perks up at the sight of her and that laugh. "That means I had a good sleep."

She bites a grin. "I had a good sleep too." If you can call it that. They weren't paying the closest eye on time but he doesn't exactly feel like he slept for 8 hours straight. She leans up and kisses across his face and it's an eruption of giggles.

There's a feeling in the air that they might do it again but then her eyes catch something and she falls back. She bites her thumb, which he can tell is a habit when she doesn't want to say something. She exhales roughly. "I have to go now if I'm going make it back in time."

Alex can't say more than an "Okay."

She redressed and, soon after, he does too. There isn't much romance to the whole thing. Soon, they're making their way to the station. Not many words are spoken but halfway through the walk, she leans her head on his shoulder, and he thinks he might cry.

Her train leaves at 9:45, his at 10:15. It's 9:35. There are no words spoken but he follows her onto the platform in silent understanding. Her train is already there, taunting them.

She grabs both his hands and places them on her waist. She rubs her hands over his elbows. The station is full of noise but silence echoes. Then, she says, "I don't want to never see you again."

He lets out a breath, feeling air enter his lungs again. He leans his forehead down to hers. "I don't want that either."

She kisses him tight in a quick motion. She presses herself up against him completely and he holds her against him in the same manner, the finality of it rattling around them.

"Come to London," he wishes aloud.

She pauses any movement, breaths caught in her throat. She's stiff and unmoveable before shaking her head. "I can't do that."

He has to. He has to. He has to. "Yes, come on. You hate your job. You want to find a future. Find it in London."

"I like my life. I have friends—"

"You have friends in London," he recalls. "Come on, Lottie. Doesn't have to be forever." He's begging. He sounds pathetic, he must, but, my god, if she can get him to get on his train, then any begging is worth it.

Her eyes are filled with tears and the knife twists within him. She takes a deep breath. Then, perks up, and excitedly says, "What if—what if I visit in a couple of weeks? I'll sort everything out and then I'll visit."

He feels like someone punches him. "We'll be back on the road soon."

She deflates and her train is honking away. This can't be it. Both are thinking it.

Alex gets one last idea. "I'll be in Paris. In July. My band we're gonna be touring here. Come to the show."

She grabs a hold of him like he might float away. And he just might. "In July?"

"Yes," Alex confirms. "Arctic Monkeys is the name of the band. I'll reimburse you for the ticket and all that." He tries to end on a lighthearted note but the weight hangs heavy.

She smiles and kisses him. “Okay, I'll see you in July.”

Alex kisses her again. He has to savour it. Hold it completely in his hands, hold her, memorize the way she moves her lips against his. Last call for the train is shouted out and says, "See ya in July." He smiles hopefully and she returns it.

She goes to get on the train but turns back quickly. Kissing him tightly, hard, passionately, firework-erupting finale. "Have a good ride back and a good tour, Alex."

"You too, Lottie." It takes her laughing to realize his mistake. He slaps his forehead, which endears her completely as if she could be endeared anymore.

She squeezes his hand firmly. "I'll try my best." She steps aboard and gives him a final look before dropping his hand.

He lets it swing at his side. Watches her pick a window seat. Each party waves goodbye before the train pulls out of the station. Alex stands there for a moment. He can't think about it for too long. He'll be doing that the whole train ride. Every day until July. Every day after July. Until.

Alex catches his train back to London and he'll wait for her. And then wait some more.