#if anyone ever feels that way about me i apologize

[clarii]

Always Near

Summary: You’ve always been there for JJ, but when he pushes you away, everything changes. With time and distance, the weight of unspoken feelings grows heavier for both of you. Can broken bonds be mended, or will the past stay in the way?

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, tension, hurt/comfort, and a soft, heartfelt ending.

Author’s Note: This is my first published story, and I’m so excited to share it with you! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. Feedback is always welcome! Also, I hope you guys had a great holiday!

The summer heat was unrelenting on the Outer Banks, but the Pogues were used to it by now. Sunburns and sweat were part of the deal, as was the endless chatter among the group. You were nestled into your usual spot on the HMS Pogue, sitting across from JJ Maybank. His sun-bleached hair glinted in the sunlight, and you couldn’t help but grin as he tried—and failed—to tie a fishing knot properly.

“Need help, pretty boy?” you teased, your voice light, even though your heart felt heavy with unspoken feelings.

“Got it,” he replied, flashing you that mischievous smirk that never failed to make your stomach flutter.

Everyone knew about your feelings for JJ. It was as obvious as the freckles on his sun-kissed face. You made no attempt to hide it, either. Why would you? From the matching bracelets you had made for the two of you to the way you always called him nicknames, it was clear you adored him. JJ was your world, even if he didn’t see it that way.

The Pogues teased you mercilessly for it, though never in a mean-spirited way. Even JJ seemed to tolerate your affection, brushing it off with jokes or lighthearted jabs. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought of you the way you thought of him.

The incident with Barry changed everything.

Tensions were high after the fight to get JJ’s stolen money back. Bruised and angry, JJ lashed out at anyone who got too close. You’d followed him after he stormed off from the group, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“JJ, wait,” you called, jogging after him. “You can’t just run off like this.”

He whipped around, his blue eyes blazing with frustration. “Why not? What do you care?”

Your heart sank, but you tried to push through his anger. “Of course I care. You’re—”

“Enough!” he snapped, his voice cutting through you like a knife. “Stop trying so hard, okay? Stop always being near me, always fussing over me. It’s suffocating.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and cruel. You stared at him, feeling the tears prick your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll stop.”

And you did.

After his outburst, you’d done what he asked. You pulled away. Stopped calling him nicknames. Stopped showing up at the chateau with snacks or little gifts. And JJ didn’t come after you, at least not at first.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.

“Something’s wrong with you,” John B said one night as they sat on the porch, watching the stars.

“I’m fine,” JJ replied, fiddling with the bracelet you’d made him.

John B raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been off for weeks. You’re not yourself.”

JJ hesitated, staring at the worn beads on his wrist. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” John B pressed. “You miss her.”

JJ sighed, leaning back against the railing. “Of course I miss her. But it’s not like I can just fix it. I screwed up.”

“So, apologize,” John B said simply.

“It’s not that easy,” JJ muttered.

“Sure, it is,” John B shot back. “Stop being a coward and tell her how you feel. You’re miserable without her, JJ. Everyone can see it.”

JJ didn’t respond, but that night, as he lay in bed, John B’s words echoed in his mind.

It wasn’t easy to get you to talk to him again.

The first time he tried, you brushed him off.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You didn’t even look at him. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“Please, Y/N.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking to the bracelet still on his wrist, but then you shook your head. “No, JJ. You told me to stop, so I did. Now you have to live with it.”

Weeks later, after that conversation you found yourself back on the beach with the Pogues. The tension had eased slightly, but things between you and JJ were still strained.

As the group sat around the fire, JJ caught your eye from across the circle. This time, he didn’t ask for permission. He just stood up and walked toward you, his expression more serious than you’d ever seen it.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, “can we talk? Please?”

You sighed but stood up, letting him lead you a little way down the beach.

“What do you want, JJ?” you asked, your voice tired.

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the sand. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, crossing your arms. “For telling me to stop trying? For making me feel like I wasn’t enough?”

JJ winced. “For all of it. For being an idiot. For pushing you away when all you were trying to do was help.”

You blinked, taken aback by his honesty.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I was angry, and I took it out on you. And when you left, it made everything worse. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were gone.”

“JJ…” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, stepping closer. “But I need you to know that I’m sorry. And I—I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, but I was too scared to say it. Too scared to admit that you’re the best thing in my life.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You love me?”

JJ nodded, his blue eyes shining with emotion. “Yeah, I do. And I know I don’t deserve another chance, but if you give me one, I promise I’ll never take you for granted again.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, your heart pounding. Then, slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the bracelet on his wrist.

“I loved you then,” you said softly. “And I love you now. But if you screw this up again, Maybank, I’m done.”

JJ’s face lit up with relief, a grin spreading across his lips. “I won’t. I swear, sunshine.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, the sound of the waves crashing behind you, everything felt right again.

[coco-loco-nut]

Chasing Desire

pairing: charles x reader

summary: you never meant to fall in love, but you didn’t plan on being in a love triangle with your best friend and his older brother either

a/n: i’ve been writing a lot of charles recently, sorry, but he’s been a part of my rare inspiration lately... also apologies for the novel

masterlist requests open

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“Are you sure you’re the professional driver?” you ask, pulling off your helmet. The smell of gasoline a familiar comfort on the race track.

“I let you win,” Arthur lies.

“And you, Charles?” you look to your best friend’s brother, who is either staring at you or something behind you.

“Um, same thing. You know, being an F1 driver and all,” Charles stutters, snapping out of wherever his mind is.

“Sure, you just can’t admit you lost to a retired driver,” you laugh, letting the race suit drop to your hips.

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder and you feel a sort of butterflies in your chest, the ones that you push away every time.

There is no way you can be crushing on Arthur, your best friend since he returned to karting. You’ve been almost inseparable ever since. You’ve both seen each through hardships. He was there when Prema dropped you when you ran out of funding in F3 last season and no driver academy wanted you. You were there when he was struggling in F2.

“Get away, Thur, you reek,” you gag for added effect.

“I want ice cream. Let’s go get some,” Charles interrupts, causing you to almost jump away.

You clear your throat, looking back at the track. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you agree, almost wanting to disappear back into the locker room.

In the locker room you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Quit it, that’s Arthur, your best friend,” you tell yourself. Ollie always joked that you followed Arthur like a lost puppy, but you never believed him. Well, until now.

“Everything okay?” Charles asks. opening the door to his car for you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” your brows furrow as you take a seat on the cool Italian leather.

“You just seem off,” Charles shrugs, brushing it off when you don’t reply. He looks up into the rearview mirror, silently asking Arthur if he has an idea. A simple shrug from Arthur confirms that he doesn’t know either. Maybe you have an exam coming up? They just don’t know. “So, how’s school?” Charles tries again, getting success when you look up from your phone.

“It’s fine. I’m on track to graduate early, but the job search isn’t great,” you frown, a little hesitant to talk about the last part.

“How? You were an incredible driver, surely that looks good on your resume?” Arthur asks, jumping in before Charles can offer you a job.

“Well, you’d be surprised to know that driving apparently does not really provide direct experience in data science,” you huff, turning your phone off as you cross your arms. It’s hard enough since you started university late.

“Oh! Ferrari is-“

“No,” you and Arthur reply at the same time. The butterflies start to return as you glance out the window.

“It’s called using your resources and network, it’s not like I’m directly getting you a job,” Charles tries to reason.

“As soon as I write your name, they will hire me. I want to be hired on my own merit,”

“But,”

“No buts,” you don’t dare to speak out loud what you want to add. It would crush Charles.

He tried so hard when Arthur revealed you didn’t have funding to get a team to pick you up. He talked to other drives, team principals, engineers, anyone. He had no luck, and when you found out it crushed you. Not only were you not good enough, any offer you would even receive would be because of Charles. From that moment you vowed that every single accomplishment going forward would be of your own merit.

“Ooo, we are here,” Charles cuts the tension, putting the car in park. You’ve never met anyone who loves ice cream more, even when it’s a bit chilly.

“Are you excited to go to Greece?” Arthur asks and you nod, practically feeling the sun on your skin.

“I cannot wait for finals to end and fly out,”

“Where exactly are you going?”

“Mykonos,”

“I’m so jealous,” Arthur groans, thinking about how much nicer it would be.

“I bet, certainly nicer than racing,” you chuckle.

“What is?” Charles turns towards you in the line.

“Greece,” Arthur answers for you. You simply nod, thinking about the white sand beaches.

“Oh, when are you going?” Charles asks. You are a bit thrown off at his prying today, but shrug it off as him not having seen you in a while.

“Before Austria. I’ll fly from Mykonos to Spielberg,” you answer before placing your order.

Charles watches as you chat with Arthur. The bright lights illuminate your smile, a crinkle in the corners of you eyes, and how you look like Arthur holds the world in his hands. You lean into Arthur as he tells you something that must be funny, because your laugh floats through the air. It’s one of those moments where Pascale or Lorenzo would make a comment. One that Charles wishes deep down was about him and how the two of you belong together.

Arthur attends your graduation, sending plenty of pictures to the family group chat and even making a sweet post on Instagram about it. And then you are in Greece, a couple of your girlfriends accompanying you for the first week.

“Hey, how’s day three going?” Arthur asks as soon as you pick up.

“Good, I’m exploring the town right now. What’s up?” you ask. Arthur called earlier in the day then planned, worrying you a little.

“I couldn’t wait to tell you. I got a girlfriend,” Arthur says excitedly. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. “Y/n?” Arthur’s voice snaps you out of your trance.

“Sorry, I was looking at a pastry. That’s great news, I’m so happy for you,” you say, even though you don’t feel like it. Your mind drifts as Arthur tells you about her and something in you shatters a little.

“I’m so sorry,” you pull your phone away from your ear as you bump into someone. “I gotta go, Thur. Call you later,” you quickly hang up, staring into a beautiful pair of brown eyes.

“I’m not,” the man smiles back as you feel your cheeks flush. He stands out against the white buildings that surround you.

“You aren’t?” you brush a stray hair back behind your ear.

“No, not if I get to meet a beautiful woman such as yourself,” he replies smoothly. Your heart doesn’t know what to feel, it went from zero to one hundred very quick.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you,” you extend your hand. The man takes it and kisses the back.

“Achileas, but my friends call me Achi. You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” he asks.

“Not unless you live in Monaco,” you shake your head, suddenly aware that you are standing in the middle of the street. Achileas notices as well and subtly ushers you towards a cafe.

“Hm, you are a race car driver, no?”

“I was, not anymore. How did you know?” you are shocked, it is rare someone would recognize you.

“Of course I remember the pretty girl who won the sprint race in Monaco. The fans were so excited, it was the first time I paid attention to a non F1 race,” he says, making you feel important. Monaco, your final win in F3, and a home win nonetheless.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m honestly so flattered,” you tilt your head down, trying to hide the blush.

“Can I ask why you don’t race anymore?” he asks after both of you order at a table.

“I, um, ran out of funding. Couldn’t put myself through university and race at the same time. No team wanted to sign me to their driver academy and that was that,” you tell him. It still stings to admit, but you are proud of how far you got.

“I’m sorry. You seemed like a great driver,” Achileas says, putting his hand over yours.

“I still watch my friends race, it’s enough for me. What do you do?”

“I act in the United States,” he smiles, gladly letting you turn the attention to him.

“That’s so cool, what brings you here then?” you follow, curious about the Greek man in front of you.

“Ah, well there’s no point in hiding it. I’m a Prince of Greece. Purely symbolic, my family holds no power, just a title,” he reveals to you, catching you off guard. You expected something simple, like a vacation, not being royal.

“Oh, wow. And you made being a failed driver sound cool,” you quickly recover from your shock. You try to act like you do around Charles, like there is nothing that makes them different from you.

“Hey, it is cool. You probably know a lot of great drivers, including yourself,”

“I mean, yeah. I’m best friends with Arthur Leclerc and I do know Charles pretty well. But that’s no where near the same level as being an actual prince.”

“Let’s agree that they are both equally cool. Can’t be fighting on our first date, no?” His suave smile disarms you, sending your head spinning.

“No,” you agree.

One date slowly turns into dinner the next evening, and breakfast the morning after, to a spending the whole day together.

Charles watches your socials just for a glimpse of you. You post stories of your outings, or you laying on the beach, but Charles assumes that your friends are taking the photos, until the second week.

Arthur’s phone rings shortly after hanging up with you. He begrudgingly answers, not in the mood to speak anymore. “What’s up, Charles?”

“Did you see Y/n’s Instagram post?” Charles asks, trying to sound calm, but it just comes out rushed.

“Yeah, what about it? She’s having a great time,” Arthur sighs. He knows how Charles looks at you protectively, but didn’t realize it was anything other than in a little sister way.

“She’s cuddled up to some guy on the beach. And that guy is a prince. She’s with a prince, Arthur. An actual prince, not in a figurative way like me!”

“Yeah, that’s her boyfriend. They met last week,”

“How do you even compete with that?” Charles exasperates.

“I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Arthur asks, a foreign irritated feeling lacing his voice.

“I lied,” Charles frowns, plotting his next move.

“Just… don’t fuck it up for her. She seems really happy,” Arthur sighs before hanging up.

The sand is soft underneath you as you lay on top of your beach towel. Achi lays beside you, watching you flip the pages of your book. He has a small smile on his face, amused at your facial expressions and how you seem to read faster. He leans in, brushing away a stray hair that you keep trying to blow away, only to startle you out of your trance.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” his voice is soft, watching you mark the page you are on.

“No, it’s okay. I want to spend time with you,” you smile, turning your attention to him. You leave far too soon for your liking, you’d happily stay here.

“Well, I would hope so,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as you shift close to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, content in the moment with you.

“I don’t want to leave,”

“Then stay the summer here with me. Or until you decide what you are doing next,”

“I have to go to Austria, but I could be convinced to return,” a playful smile makes its way to your face as Achileas flips you underneath him, arms on both sides of you.

“Is this convincing enough?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you giggle, tilting your chin up as he leans down to kiss you. It starts slow, teasing yet sincere, turning into a passion that urges you to stay. “Okay,” you whisper as your lips part. You watch his eyes light up, excited that you agreed to stay.

“I can’t wait,” he grins, moving from on top of you.

“I will miss you while I’m away,” you frown slightly. You’ve fallen into a comfort that you never expected. For the first time ever, you haven’t found yourself thinking about Arthur or the crush that has been haunting you.

“I think you will survive, but I could always join you,” you perk up a little. Why hadn’t you thought of that?

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. I can watch with a professional, and I’m sure I could acquire a pass,” Achileas smiles, mentally planning it all.

“I’d love for you to join me,” you don’t even hesitate.

“Why don’t we head out?” he suggests, standing up and offering you a hand. You take it and quickly pack up. You walk hand in hand through the town, before a sound makes you pause.

“Did you hear that?” you ask, turning towards a small alley.

“It sounded like a meow,” Achi says, letting you search. You find a vibrant orange kitten in distress.

“You poor baby,” your voice is soft as the kitten approaches you. You look up at Achi, eyes asking what to do.

“The kitten seems to need help and it’s all alone. I don’t see an issue with helping it,” he shrugs. You carefully pick the kitten up and hold it to your chest.

“Do you think I could keep it?”

“We can do some research. Let’s get some food for it,”

“It’s a boy,” you smile as you quickly check the kitten’s gender. “I’m going to name you Leo,” Achi is amused and in awe at how tenderly you are caring for the kitten. It’s the greenest possible flag.

You wait outside the store as Achi buys some food for the kitten. As you wait, you send a picture to the group chat you have with Arthur and Charles, telling them that you are trying to adopt the kitten.

The last couple days of your trip is spent planning arraignments for your return and for Achileas to attend the race with you. Leo is staying at the vet, receiving treatment then getting neutered so you can officially adopt him.

“Arthur!” you wave, practically dragging your boyfriend through the paddock in search of the Leclercs. You find them talking to Pierre near the Alpine garage.

“Y/n! You look great, the sun treated you well,” Arthur hugs you tight.

“The sun isn’t the only thing that treated me well. This is Achileas, my boyfriend. Achileas, this is my best friend, Arthur,” you introduce them.

“You really need to cool it on the death glare,” Pierre tells Charles who is looking between you and the tall Greek man behind you. The sun-kissed glow of your skin makes Charles fall harder, and your closeness to Achileas makes him want to puke.

“What death glare? I’m not jealous,” Charles says defensively.

“You are literally in love with your brothers best friend. You hate her boyfriend without ever having met him. You adopted a dog two days ago and named it after her kitten that she rescued the day before. But you aren’t jealous?” Pierre raises an eyebrow.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Charles trails off, looking at the way you lean into Achileas’ touch, his arm securely around your waist as if it was meant to be there.

“It’s funny, she always followed Arthur around like a lost puppy. I always assumed they would get together once they figured out they liked eachother, but now they are dating different people,” Pierre continues, not being a help to Charles’ mental health.

“That’s not true, he doesn’t like her like that,”

“That you know of. Just like how he didn’t know you like his best friend until recently,” Pierre continues.

“Charles, come say hi to your guest,” Arthur calls his brother over.

“I missed you,” Charles wraps his arms around you, holding the hug for a second longer than normal. You are thrown off by it all. Charles has never said something like that before, and what gives him the right to hug you that long.

“Yeah,” you pat his back awkwardly as he lets go. “Meet my boyfriend, Achileas,” you step back so they can shake hands.

“Charles Leclerc, I race for Ferrari,” Charles puffs his chest slightly, trying to intimidate but he just comes off like an asshole. Pierre and Arthur do their best to avoid rolling their eyes.

“I’m going to go say hi to Pierre,” you are clearly thrown off a little by Charles, but allow them to interrogate your boyfriend while you speak to the Frenchman.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

“No idea. Probably just trying to get a read on your Greek warrior,” Pierre shrugs, keeping Charles secrets even if he would normally gossip with you.

“He is isn’t he?” you look dreamily at your boyfriend, who seems to need saving.

“Sure. I’ll see you later,” Pierre leaves, having a job to do.

“Should I be worried?” Achileas asks as soon as the two of you are out of earshot, well you think you are.

“About who?”

“Charles,”

“Not at all, I don’t get what girls see in him, but maybe that’s from growing up with him.” You shrug. Your mind briefly drifts to how weird Charles was acting. Does he not want to be your friend anymore? Why was he so standoffish to Achileas. Meanwhile, Charles feels a stab in his heart at your words. Maybe he never did stand a chance.

“Sorry to cut in, but I need to do my best friend duties. You can meet us back at Ferrari,” Arthur says, pulling your boyfriend away from you. You are left with Charles and Pierre, who just stare back at you.

“Well, I have a team meeting and this feels awkward, so I’m gonna go,” Pierre disappears into the garage. You stand in the awkward silence for a minute before turning to walk back to Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n, wait,” you feel a gentle tug as your arm as Charles catches up with you. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, brows furrowed as you barely meet his eyes.

“I get this feeling that you don’t like my boyfriend. Why?” you ask, watching Charles fumble for his words. “If you can’t be happy for me like Arthur is, and like I am for Arthur, I don’t know if we can be friends.”

“No, no, I am happy for you. I just didn’t expect to see him here,” Charles lies, not wanting to ruin anything. He feels like he’s barely hanging on to your relationship.

“Well you certainly aren’t acting like it,” you frown. Charles reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You jerk, quickly stepping out of the small embrace. “What are you doing?”

“I- well, I, um,“ Charles stutters, confused at your coldness. “I was going to give you a hug and apologize,” he watches your eyes narrow before there is a shift of resolve.

“Just, don’t be weird,” you shake your head. The walk back is silent. Charles looks at you oddly, a mix of concern and confusion.

He keeps a bit of distance the rest of the weekend, watching you explain different aspects of racing. Arthur expressed his approval, making things somehow worse for Charles.

“Cha,” you call him over to you on his way to the garage before the race.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted to say good luck. I hope you win,” your smile brings a sense of normalcy, like the two of you haven’t spend the weekend carefully avoiding each other. The concern on Charles’ face melts into something softer.

“Thank you, ma chérie,” he opens his arms slightly, subtly inviting you to hug him. You lean in, wrapping your arms around him. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms. Charles resists the urge to happily sigh, relieved that the standoff is over.

It’s just what he needs to win the race, but before he can invite you to the after party, you are gone. Back to Greece with your lover, the Prince who stole you away before Charles had the nerve to say something.

Charles doesn’t see you again until just before Monza. He knocks on your and Arthur’s apartment door, delivering some frozen meals from Pasquale for Arthur. You open the door, hair slightly disheveled, messy mascara, tanned skin from the Greek sun, and a pullover that barely covers your shorts. You’ve never looked so perfect.

Charles opens his mouth to speak, but the tears start flowing. He steps inside behind you, following you to the living room after making a quick detour to shove the food in your freezer. You haven’t been back for long based on the lack of food in the fridge and the lack of your decoration.

Charles sits beside you on the couch, conscious of his actions. Your cat, Leo, sits on the other side of you. He looks around the living room, a framed photo of you and Arthur on a podium hanging beside other individual pictures or pictures of the two of you. Some of your trophies are mixed with Arthur’s, showcasing your achievements.

“Cherie, what happened?” Charles gentle voice cuts through the silence.

“He left. He’s going back to America,” you hold back sobs, the more you speak it, the more real it becomes. You had numbly backed your bags and flew back to Monaco, ignoring the apologies from the man who broke your heart. “I should’ve known he’d drop me as soon as the summer ended,” you tilt your head back in an effort to stop your tears. You never want to cry over a man again.

“I’m so sorry,” Charles whispers, unsure of what to say. You feel anger bubbling up, slowly replacing your sadness.

“God, I paused my whole life for him. I should be starting a job right now, learning how to adult. Instead I wasted my whole summer on white sand beaches and false promises,” your words are venomous, rather than sorrowful. It scares Charles a little bit, he’s seen you angry before, but not like this. Your eyes meet his, betraying your words. He sees the deep hurt and sorrow that they hold and wants nothing more to heal it.

“How long have you been home?” Charles asks, not noticing you subconsciously shifting closer.

“A few days,” your tone shifts, as you take a shaky breath in an attempt to level yourself.

“Y/n, I’m home, dinner is in the kitchen if you want anything,” Arthur calls out as he enters the apartment. He stops abruptly when he notices you on the couch. “You’re alive, and Charles is here.”

“I am here, Maman sent me with meals for you,” Charles says, taking the attention off of you.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you leave your room since you got home?” Arthur stares at you, analyzing any move you make.

“I’m okay,” your voice is hoarser than you intended, a small crack cuts through your words.

“I gotta shower, but we are talking later,” Arthur nods, disappearing into his room.

“You haven’t left your room?” Charles turns back to you.

“I think you know that answer,” you bring your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“If I offered to help, would you take it?” Charles’ mouth is moving faster than his brain as he thinks of ways to help you.

“Maybe,”

“I need some help with the data. There’s a chance for the team to win the constructors championship and for me to take second in the drivers is everything works out right,” Charles trails off a little, gauging your reaction.

“I don’t want a job because you feel sorry for me,” your voice is firm causing Charles to panic a little.

“It isn’t, I promise. Why don’t you come to Monza and do a test run? See if you like it and if you do I will hire you,” Charles offers, watching the wheels turn in your brain. “I know you feel like you wasted your summer, so I’ll give you a good bonus if I win one race,” his words seal the deal for you. It goes against everything you have said before regarding jobs, but you can’t lie and say that the job won’t be beneficial.

“One test run, then I will give you my answer,” you confirm, watching Charles light up a little.

“Great, I’ll talk to Ferrari and work everything out. We leave for Monza tomorrow.”

Charles picks you and Arthur up early the next morning, bringing with him a Ferrari team polo and folder.

“All the essential data for you to get familiar with, according to the team at least. We will get your Paddock Pass in Monza,” Charles explains. You get to work in the car, looking over the data and using your computer to analyze it further.

“This is Emilia, she will be showing you around and telling you about the data team while I do media,” Charles hands you off to the girl who isn’t much older than you.

“You are a very strong racer,” she says at the end of your tour and training, catching you off guard. “Of course I looked you up when Charles insisted that he has his own data analyst, Ferrari kept tabs on you,” her comment is enough to make you stop.

“They did?”

“Yes, your data is impressive. I can show you the file,” she offers. All it takes is a head nod and you are being shown a file you never thought existed. You read the comments, doing your best to keep a neutral face in the dim room. Fast driver, high ceiling, not enough sponsors. The three phrases that sustained and killed your career accompany the numbers. It almost hurts knowing that teams did see your potential, but didn’t choose you because of money.

“Wow,” you whisper, scanning the page over and over again. You had looked at your racing data for various school projects, but it is different with the team commentary.

“Time for a track walk,” Charles pops his head in, breaking you out of your trance. You whisper a quick thanks before running out after Charles.

You stay busy all weekend, working out different strategies and areas for Charles to improve. It does pay off as you watch Charles bring home the win. Arthur insists you join at the parc ferme to celebrate. Charles hugs Arthur first before turning to you.

“I think this is a strong start to your career,” he quickly hugs you before moving down the line. You can see your new resume line now: assisted Formula One driver in winning during first weekend on team. So you do take the job, you would be crazy not to.

Ferrari hires you through the end of the season. Charles is thrilled. He likes the idea of being your white knight, mending your broken heart one race at a time. He watches you open up more and your relationship strengthens.

You do your best Elvis impression as you enter the paddock on race day with Charles. “Viva Las Vegas,” you sing with an exaggerated vibrato. Charles tries to contain his laughter as Max approaches.

“They had no need to hire Elvis impersonators this year, Ferrari has one on staff already,” he teases. You bonded over your cats, and cat Leo and dog Leo have had play dates with Jimmy and Sassy.

“Shut up,” you laugh. This is the version of you the Charles has been waiting to see again. “Oh shit,” your demeanor changes as you try to hide behind Max and Charles. Charles follows your line of sight to the man talking to someone across the paddock. Max looks confused, but notes how Charles wraps an arm protectively around you.

“I can get someone to kick him out,”

“That’s a bit extreme,”

“I have no idea who you are talking about, but I’ll do it,” Max offers, earning a slight smile from you before it deepens to a frown again.

“Getting broken up with is hardly a reason to kick him out unless he is actually bothering me,” you shrink slightly into Charles, who quickens his pace a little.

“That’s Leo’s dad? Let me at him,” Max is jumping at the chance to punch someone, a lot of pent up energy from conflicts this season. Max may be a sweetheart most of the time when he isn’t racing, but he was raised by Jos.

“Can we just go to hospitality? There’s nothing that an espresso and showing security his picture can’t fix,” you suggest. Max pouts, knowing you are right. Charles gives Max a look, one that tells Max to shut up before he hurts the situation.

“Well, I gotta go. Future World Champion stuff,” Max says, walking away. He does end up confronting Achileas, but he doesn’t say anything out it, and Achileas is too scared to reveal what was said.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks as you sip your espresso.

“Surprisingly, yes. I freaked out a bit at first, but he’s in my space. He’s the one who should be insecure,” you state, making Charles proud at how far you’ve come in two months.

“I’m proud of you. I know that whatever you do after the season you are going to excel,” the words are reassuring and you feel a warmth in your heart. The same kind that you used to feel for Arthur. It’s like you are seeing Charles in a different light than you had before. Charles silently watches you stare at him, stuck in your own head, before you look away at whatever is on the TV behind him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, thank you for bringing me on,” you thank him. The mood is heavy, keeping both of you silent, not wanting to break the odd silence. “I’m going to grab some food, I’ll need it if we go to Max’s after party,” you abruptly say, standing up and leaving. Your phone and coffee remain on the table, so Charles doesn’t bother getting up. You return with two plates, setting one down in front of him. “I got your meal, you need to eat now so you have energy for the race. The window is closing,” you motion to the food with your fork.

“Thanks. You’ve been a great support too, by the way. I don’t think I would’ve done as well without you,” Charles smiles over his glass of water.

After the meal you disappear to find Emilia and work on data. You don’t see each other until your quick meeting on your findings and final race suggestions.

“Have you thought about joining the team full time?” Emilia asks as the race starts. There is a flicker of hope in your chest. Maybe Charles was right, the job can further your career. “There’s an opening working with the driver academy team. I’ll put in a recommendation for you if you want it,” she explains.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you are a bit speechless, excited about the opportunity.

“Great, I’ll send you the application information,” she says before turning back to her work. You refocus on the live data, making notes of where Charles can improve to send to his race engineer.

Charles barely misses the podium so you go back to the team hotel with Emilia, waiting on the text from Charles saying that he’s leaving for the club. Max already sent you the invite, but you don’t want to show up alone. You do end up showing up alone though, having made it to the club before Charles did. You beeline to the bar, needing to take a shot before you even touch the dance floor.

“A shot without me? Come on we are doing another round,” Max approaches you, scaring you a bit as you set down the empty shot glass. Two shots are quickly placed in front of you.

“To the four time champion of the world,” you toast.

“To being cat parents,” he toasts back before you quickly down the shot.

“It’s rude to exclude friends from the round,” Charles cuts in. His slightly unbuttoned top shows a daring amount of skin and for once his pants have a normal fit. You head spins and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or Charles. You quickly look away and back at the bartender who was beaconed by Max.

“Three more,” you yell over the music.

“I don’t have a toast for this,” Max says as he picks the shot up, both of you looking to Charles.

“If the ocean was beer and I was a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and drink my way up. But the ocean isn’t beer and I’m not a duck, so let’s take these shots and get fucked up,” Charles says proudly. You take the shot before giggling at the silliness of the toast.

“Where did you learn that?” you ask, feeling the alcohol punch you.

“Don’t worry about it,” Charles smiles and you head spins again. You nod and wander to the dance floor, needing to separate yourself from him for a moment.

“Is she okay?” Max asks, watching you get lost in deep thought.

“I’m not sure. I think she’s finally had a chance to heal from the summer,” Charles pauses, unsure of how much to say. “She’s had a crush on Arthur for years, then he started dating his girlfriend, and she met her ex soon after. She’s finally returned to a healed state and now something is off again,” Charles tells Max a bit of what he’s observed from you. Max looks at how Charles is watching you, a mix of concern and admiration.

“She deserves to let loose,” Max says before going to meet other guests. Charles orders two more drinks, taking one to you.

“For me?” you gasp, eagerly taking a cup from his hands.

“Of course,” Charles notices how your navy dress clings to your body, dangerously revealing.

“Let’s dance,” your words slur as you grab onto Charles’ hand.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Charles starts, feeling like he should draw a boundary before things get messy.

“Please, Charlie,” you pout, it’s enough for Charles to give in. Your dancing remains relatively PG, that is until Carlos delivers two more drinks. Turns out that what Charles assumed was you texting Arthur, was you asking Carlos to be your delivery man. Halfway through your drink, you body drifts closer to Charles. There is a look in your eyes, one that used to be reserved for Arthur, one that was never given to Achileas.

“Y/n,” he says softly, trying to see if this is really what you want to be doing. If you told the Charles from a year ago that this was happening, he wouldn’t believe you. You brush against him, body swaying to the beat. Charles wraps an arm around you, done fighting it.

Lost in an alcohol haze, time seems nonexistent as the lights flash around you. Your drinks are long finished, taken away by a bouncer a few songs ago. There’s something natural about it, but it makes you feel guilty. You always assumed you and Arthur were meant to be, you never even thought of Charles in anyway but Arthur’s older brother. When did it change?

You look up to find Charles looking back at you. Your lips are slightly parted as your mind scrambles to find the words, the music spinning you further. Charles takes a risk, pulling you slightly closer. Your head tilts up slightly and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss you. Your body seems to freeze and melt at the same time, giving in to what’s happening. It’s everything Charles has waited for and more. The years of waiting were worth every moment.

“Charles,” your voice sounds like a whisper as your lips part, a desperation in his name.

“Just say no and I won’t kiss you again,” his voice is low in your ear, but you can’t find it in you to say no. Your hands travel up to his neck, pulling him back to you. Something clicks, everything in the past few months has worked towards this moment. He was there for you at your lowest, and Charles helped you be yourself again.

“I’m going to get us another round,” Charles says against your lips, leaving you in a daze.

“Y/n,” a voice says from behind you, catching your attention.

“Back already, Cha- what are you doing here?” your mood is immediately soured.

“Celebrating, just like you. I was invited,” the greek man hasn’t changed since he made you leave.

“Were you? How do you know Max?” you are skeptical, rightfully so. His only connection to Formula One was you.

“My friend works with the team. I thought I wasn’t supposed to worry about him,” Achileas nods his head back to the bar, causing your cheeks to flush at the thought of the older Monegasque.

“I thought you actually liked me. It seems we were both wrong,” you shake your head slightly, clearing Charles from your mind. Any drunkenness feels like it’s been washed away with a sharp splash of cold water.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You know you miss me,” he steps closer, trapping you in the crowd of strangers. Your eyes dart around the dance floor, looking for Carlos or Max, anyone who you know really.

“I don’t. You never even asked about our cat. Why would you care about me?” your eyes narrow, trying to mask your nerves with a false bravado.

“I know you and your body so well. Come back with me to my hotel and let me remind you,” he steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. You freeze, not wanting to cause a scene but needing to escape.

“That fucker, I told him to stay away from her,” Max growls, noticing before Charles does since he is chatting with the bartender.

“Who?”

“Y/n’s ex, that greek guy,” Max makes a move to confront him, but Charles is already pushing towards you. Max hands back, waiting for the drinks. Who would he be to let alcohol go to waster if Charles has it handled.

“Back away from her before I make you,” Charles inserts himself between the two of you, shielding you behind him.

“What is your problem? You just had to get with her as soon as we took a break?” Achileas’ words only make you and Charles more mad.

“I respected your relationship the whole time, and when you broke her heart I helped her fix it. You have no right to be here and to make Y/n uncomfortable,” Charles says, knowing that you are one comment away from snapping.

“So you jumped on the opportunity to get with her? Just so you know, she really likes it when you-“

“I am an adult and can make my own choices. Charles has been a good friend for years and showed me his true colors since I returned to Monaco. You showed me your true colors when you dropped me like I was nothing and now you think you can waltz back in,” you step around Charles, who gently pulls you back into his chest before you get physical. Max approaches, accompanied by a bouncer.

“I warned you to stay away. It’s been fun watching you absolutely fail, but I think it’s time you leave. I don’t even know you,” Max lets the bouncer grab Achileas, the three of you watch as he is thrown out onto the street. “Good riddance,” Max huffs, handing you the second drink. It’s a miracle that no one else around you was paying attention.

“Thank you,” you look at max who looks both concerned and angry.

“What an asshole,” Charles shakes his head, free arm lightly holding you against him.

“I thought princes were supposed to be white knights,” Max says amused at his own thought.

“He’s not a real prince anyway,” your laugh is bitter, annoyed that you wasted your time on a pretty smile who wanted free devotion without returning it.

“I am though,” Charles smiles proudly.

“Sure you are. Prince of Monaco and King of Monza,” Max does his best interpretation of F1 commentary and their nicknames for the Monegasque. You feel the exhaustion of the night and its excitement hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I think I’m going to head out, the Ferrari flight leaves early tomorrow and I don’t think I’m in much of a celebration mood anymore. Congrats again, Max,” you step out of Charles’ embrace to give a quick hug to the Dutchman.

“I’ll go with you, just in case he’s waiting,” Charles says quickly, knowing he will just be worried if he lets you go alone. Arthur would kill him too. Arthur. That’s a discussion the two of you need to have.

“Thank you for being here. There is a seat on my jet for you if you oversleep or don’t sleep at all,” Max winks, leaving you and Charles.

“Want to order room service? I think we have some things to talk about,” Charles asks, guiding you towards his hotel.

“I could eat,” you nod.

As soon as you sit on his bed, another wave of exhaustion hits you. Charles digs through his suitcase, searching for something.

“Here, I doubt you want to stay in that dress,” Charles tries not to think about taking the dress off of you as he hands you a shirt and basketball shorts.

“Thanks,” you disappear into the bathroom to change and remove the bit of makeup you had time to do.

“What do you want to order?”

“We need to walk about what this is,” you answer, food pushed to the back of your mind as you sit on the bed. Charles sets the menu down, leaning against the headboard on top of the crisp white sheets. The city is visible outside the windows, but the curtains are drawn to block out the lights.

“I don’t want to force you into anything. I’ve liked you for a long time and that won’t change,” Charles states plainly, laying it out there.

“I want to take it slow. The last time I jumped into something it didn’t end well. As evidenced by tonight,” you pause, mulling over your next words. “What do we tell Arthur?” you frown, thinking of your best friend as Charles pulls you close.

“The truth. Something sparked tonight and we are taking it slow. If we hide it he may never forgive us.”

“You know, I always thought I would end up with Arthur,” you chuckle.

“Everyone did. I am glad that has changed now, I hated the thought of you two together and the way you used to look at him. I always wanted you to look at me that way, and you did tonight,” Charles says, his head dipping lower as he speaks, wanting to capture your lips in a kiss.

When he pulls away to turn off the bedside lamp, you get cozy in bed, quickly falling asleep. Charles doesn’t dare disturb you, instead he plugs your phone into a spare charger and texts Emilia to coordinate picking up your luggage in the morning before going to sleep as well.

You wake up to the early morning sun streaming through the window, panic coursing through you as you realize it isn’t your hotel room. You barely register that Charles is beside you as you look around for your phone. You do a double take once it registers in your mind, bits and pieces of the night before coming back to you.

“Morning,” Charles groans slightly, reaching out to pull you in for a cuddle.

“I missed the flight, how am I going to get my things,” you panic, not understanding how Charles is being so calm about it.

“I picked it up this morning, you are flying with Max and I to Qatar,” Charles murmurs sleepily into your shoulder, messy brown hair falling onto your skin.

“I’m so confused,” you settle a bit, letting yourself relax into the bed and Charles’ arms again. “Oh my god, we didn’t?”

“No, you were asleep quickly and I wouldn’t do that when drunk,” Charles says softly, just wanting to go back to sleep. He pulls you closer, like he’s been waiting his whole life to wake up next to you, savoring the moment.

“Thanks,” you whisper, exhaustion hitting you again.

Charles doesn’t reply, gently nuzzling against your neck as his breathing evens out. You take it as a sign and close your eyes.

You wake up a couple hours later to Charles’ alarm going off. You turn your body to face him, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Good morning,” you whisper, voice slightly raspy. Charles hums, wrapping an arm around you after turning off the alarm.

“Did you sleep well?” Charles asks eventually.

“It’s much better than the hotel rooms I normally stay in with the team,” you reply, not mentioning the added bonus of sleeping next to him.

“I could get used to sleeping beside you, waking up to this every morning,” the room falls into a comfortable silence, just the sound of your breathing filling the space before you decide to address the elephant in the room.

“When are we telling Arthur?” you ask, massing to mentally prepare yourself.

“He will probably call me in an hour. We should tell him then, but we should also talk about last night,” Charles sits up a little.

“I don’t regret any of it. I feel like I stumbled into the opportunity, but it feels right,” you reply quickly, not wanting to leave room for any doubts.

“I’m glad, because I’ve liked you for a long time,” your heart flutters at his smile. You feel like a school girl who will blush at the slightest glance your way.

“I, um, need to shower,” you quickly disappear to the bathroom with your suitcase.

“Fuck,” Charles says under his breath, resting his head on the headboard. There’s no way he fucked it up already. With the water running softly in the background, he orders breakfast to be delivered.

You step out of the bathroom twenty minutes later wearing an oversized shirt you stole from Charles a couple races ago and shorts. Charles has his back you to you, messing with a tray.

“Cherie, breakfast is here,” Charles gently calls out, not realizing you are behind him.

“What did you get?” you peek around him, looking at the modest spread. Some breakfast pastries and two mugs of coffee are resting on the desk. Charles jumps slightly, not expecting you so quickly.

“Your hair is soaked,” Charles laughs as the ends tickles his neck, dampening the collar of his cotton shirt.

“I wonder why,” you tease, tentatively pressing a kiss to his cheek as you reach around him, taking a cup of coffee. Charles turns toward you, pulling you closer for a proper kiss.

Your phone buzzes on the table beside the bed, making you pull away. You carefully rush to grab it, coffee splashing on to your hand a bit despite your efforts.

“It’s Arthur,” you turn to Charles, setting down the coffee before pulling your phone off the charger. Sitting on the plush white bed, you swipe, accepting the video call.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be at the airport,” Arthur asks, his phone shaking as he finds a spot to sit down.

“I am flying Air Max,” you smile, leaning against the headboard. You catch Charles trying to silently stand up from the table and walk towards the bathroom so you could have privacy.

“Fuck,” Charles whisper-yells, accidentally kicking the table leg.

“Is that Charles?” Charles’ eyes widen as he stares at your phone.

“Yeah, I crashed here after Max’s party. Some stuff went down and I didn’t want to be alone,” you want to trauma dump, but now isn’t the right time. Charles sits beside you out of the frame, gently rubbing circles into your leg.

“What happened?” You sneak a look at Charles, silently asking for confirmation that he was ok with you telling Arthur everything.

“I was getting closer with Charles, who says hello by the way,” Charles pinches your thigh, making you try not to smack his hand away. “We, um, kissed, then out of no where Achileas showed up. I had it handled but Max and Charles helped put him in his place,” You power through the mental blocks that tell you that Arthur doesn’t need to know everything. He will find out eventually, why lie now?

“I saw a video and thought it was you two, thank you for being honest,” Arther swallows any bit of hurt. He has a girlfriend, why is he borderline jealous of his brother. Years ago you told a friend that if you couldn’t have Arthur, you wouldn’t date a Leclerc at all. Arthur doesn’t know what made it change or why he found comfort in it.

“You aren’t mad?” Charles appears in the camera frame, looking happier and more relaxed than normal.

“No, of course not. If you guys are happy, then I am too,” Arthur isn’t looking at the screen anymore. “I always knew you’d be a Leclerc,” Arthur watches your smile widen, your head tilted toward Charles almost resting on his shoulder.

“We are taking things slow, so don’t get ahead of yourself,” your light laugh is music to both boys ears. Arthur’s stomach twists as he plasters a fake smile.

“Well, I need to go get groceries. I’ll talk to both of you after your flight. Bye,” Arthur quickly hangs up. You set your phone down on the bed, breathing a sigh of relief at how well the call went.

“So can I officially call you mine?” Charles asks, needing to put a label on it even if you are taking it slow in other areas of the relationship.

“I usually make a guy take me on a date first, but I think I’ll make an exception,”

“Good,”

“Even if it’s for a guy who named his dog after my cat.”

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER III

✷WARNINGS cursing, pining??? idk. mention of the nd game and h*annah h*dalgo

✷NIYAH SPEAKS aye we back! this one is just paiges pob

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

We lose to Notre Dame every year. 

Every. Fucking. Year. 

And now that I’m home in Storrs, looking at everyone as they try to mask their disappointment, I feel the loss even more. 

Which is why I’m walking around in the middle of night, the December air biting into my skin. I can’t stop thinking about everything that went wrong. Why everything went wrong. 

I honestly have no fucking clue why, but I know what went wrong. Everyone does. Our defense was lousy, our shots were horrible, we got too tired. I could go on, but that won’t fix anything. 

I find myself at Xavi and Janes house before I realize it. I tell myself that it’s because Yanna’s there, and not because of the wisdom that Xavia seems to have about every aspect of life. 

When Xavia opens the door wearing a smile and a moo moo, I ignore that bubly feeling in my chest and ask to come in. 

Once inside, I see her apartment is almost completely dark. The big lights are off, the living room being lit only by a candle and two lamps in opposite corners. 

“So, what’s up P?” Xavi asks, running her hands down the silk of her moo moo. “It’s almost midnight and you’re usually dead to the world by 9.”

Knowing that Xavia knows my bedtime makes me smile for reasons I don’t want to admit. 

When I first met her, Xavia was like a mystery. She was funny and smart and absolutely fucking beautiful. She’d apologized for making a false assumption about me. It was the first and only time anyone had ever done that and I never forgot it. 

When she and Jane started coming around more, I forced myself to swallow the want I had to learn more about her, to learn from her because I knew that if I’d gotten to the root of who she was, I’d be even more enthralled than I already was at that point. 

Eventually my heart stopped beating so fast around her. I’d stopped avoiding being within 3 feet of her and trained myself to treat her like I’d treated all my other friends. 

Because that’s what she is. My friend. 

It didn’t matter that her not worshipping ground I walked on excited me. It didn’t matter that almost every conversation we had alone rested in the back of my mind at all times. 

Xavia is my friend and that’s all she’d ever be. 

“Yeah I know. I just can’t get the ND game outta my head and I thought Yanna would be here to talk to.”

I’m lying and I know it. Whether Yanna was here or not, I would have found a way to talk to Xavi. I always did. Not because I wanted to be around her, but because she always had the answer to whatever problem that I have. Anyone would do the same if they’d stopped to pay attention when she was trying to get a word in. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s not here.” Xavi pointed a thumb to the back of her house, where Her and Jane’d bedroom’s were. Her locs swayed with the turn of her head. “Her and Jane went to Urgent Care cause she hit her shoulder on the wall and-” She waves her hands anxiously, as if she doesn’t feel like explaining a complex situation. “It was a whole thing. I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

I know I should be worried about my teammate who can’t seem to stay healthy. And I am. I make a mental note to check in on Yanna at some point, but right now, I’m thinking of a way I can stay and talk to Xavi without making it a thing.

“Oh…” is what I came up with. 

“You can talk to me?” Thank. God. “ If you want.”

Of course I fucking want. It’s all I’ve done for the past three years. 

I want to be a better person. 

I want to be 19 again and do everything differently. 

I want to win the championship this year. 

But all those wants are null and void for the biggest want of all. 

I want to get drafted to the WNBA.

And I’ve made  too many shitty decisions to get there to just throw it all away. So what if I’m miserable?

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool.” I play off my desperation and take a seat on her orange bean bag. 

Xavi plops down on the couch in front of me, crossing her legs and folding her hands. All her attention is on me and a part of me feels like I don’t deserve the attention of this amazing woman. But a bigger part is screaming that this is how it should be. 

Me, admiring every part of her, and her, willing and ready for anything I give her. 

Of course, in this situation all she wants is to know what’s on my mind, but I would give her whatever else she could think up. 

“So whatcha thinkin ‘bout?”  She asks sweetly. 

Her voice isn’t obnoxiously high. It’s kinda deep and mellow, just like she is.

“Um… I just can’t get over everything.” I shake my head and look at my hands. Hands that are supposed to get me everywhere I want in life.  “Like, I get why we lost. What we did wrong on the basketball front. But we were off the other day. We’d run those plays over and over again in practice. Studied film. We should have been prepared, but we were just off.  Like no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t get there.”

Xavia nods her head like she understands everything I’m saying. 

“Like everything was against you guys?” she questions. 

“No. I don’t think that anything was unfair. I think that our all just wasn’t enough.”

“Well, I know you can’t speak for anyone else, and I’d never ask you to. But why do you think you were off that night?”

She sounds like a therapist. The kind that isn’t just trying to fix you, but trying to understand you. The kind that hangs on to every word, but not to hold it against you.

“I don’t know. I just kept getting madder and madder and it threw me off. I did everything I was supposed to do.”

She looks confused now. “What do you mean ‘supposed to do’?”

“Like everything I thought was right. Everything I've always done.”

“Maybe that’s the issue.” 

Now I’m confused. 

“What?”

Following my routine has taken me and my team to the Final Four, and for Xavi to tell me it’s wrong stings a little. 

“Maybe doing everything you’ve always done isn’t the answer. Paige, you’re a somewhat mature adult. Do you honestly think you’re right all the time?”

What does she mean ‘somewhat’ mature? 

“...No?”

“Right.” Xavi sounds so sure of herself, leaning in and starting to talk with her hands like she does when she’s talking about her coursework or something equally as interesting to her. “It’s impossible to be right in every situation because every situation is different. When you throughout your daily life, do you treat every person the same? Do you go into every conversation with the same mindset, expecting the same outcome?”

I mean most people are the same, so what else am I supposed to do?

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Well that’s no bueno, babe.” She huffs out, pointing at me. Then, she entrances me again with her hands as she speaks. “ Every human is different. They have different pasts, and different views. Even if the difference between one person and another is miniscule, it’s there. And that difference is why it’s so important that we don’t generalize people.”

I know she’s stopped talking but I’m so caught up in her voice, and her hands and her face, and her to contribute to the conversation.

“Are you understanding?” She asks, seemingly genuinely concern with whether I’m comprehending what she’s telling me. 

And the answer is no, I’m not understanding. Whether there’s a differenc eor not, each person want the same thing and should be dealt with the same, based on what they want. 

This is the code fucking live by,a nd she’s sitting her debunking it in the most intellectual, attractive way possible.

“Not really.”

“Okay so like…” She sighs, pauses to think and then continues. “Do you remember when we first met? When I assumed you were a whore like alot of college athletes are?”

The reminder of our first interaction brings a calmness to me. I remember everything abou that night in her dorm. She wore sweats with no bra, and I’m pretty sure she was stoned.

“Yeah of course. You apologized to me that night and it kinda weirded me out.”

“Right.” Xavia snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my memory. “I apologized to you, because I generalized you and made an assumption based on one aspect of your identity. And I think it weirded you out because you’d generalized every person who’d made an assumption about you. I guess it’s rare that people apologize after being an asshole to you.”

It was rare. So rare that she’s the only person who’d ever done it.

“Okay…”

“So. Incourpurating that into basketball. Every team is different.”

I nod my head to let her know I was following. “Of course.”

“Okay and so every player on every team is different too.”

She lost me.

“No.” Now I’m the one leaning forward, talking with my hands. “They all move as a team. Yes, they have differences, but they’re all working together.”

“I see it differently.” She shrugs like she’s the master of basketball and done copious amounts of research on the psyche of an athlet.  “I feel like every player on that court moves individually. Do they play for the same team, and have the same goal? Of course. But they’re all different. They all have different thoughts and concerns and ideas. You said that girl Hannah was the head of the snake, but I think you should see it differently.”

“How so?”

“Instead of thinking of a team as one snake, think of it like… Like cheetahs!”

“Cheetahs?”

“Cheetahs.” She finalizes. “Once the mama cheetah gives birth, she trains her cubs to survive in any situation. To adapt to any surroundings. She teaches her cubs how to kill different animals, to hide, all that. Eventually, the cubs form a sibling group and go out together to execute everything their mother has taught them. Are you getting the analogy?”

When she’s explaining it in laymans terms, of course I get it. She could probably explain thermodynamics to me and I’d understand it fully. Xavia just has a way of making everything in life seem so simple. It’s wonderful, really.

“Yeah. Like the coach is the mother, the players are the cubs.”

“Right. But each cub is different. There’s a more dominant one, there’s submissives and then theirs the runts. Each one has to edit their mothers lessons to make it useful to them individually. Does that make sense?”

I’ve decided that she’s blown my mind enough for tonight, once again by being right about everything. So I just chuckle and dismiss the topic.

“How do you come up with this shit, Xavi?”

She laughs like a seductress and leans back on the couch, “I dunno. I read alot.”

You read alot? Reading alot has given you the ability to break down a sport like you’ve played it your whole life?

“Well thank you for sharing your knowledge with my dumbass, oh wise one.”

I stand up from the beanbag and make my way to the door, ready to take my exit.

“I’m not wise, I just see from a different point of view than you. Sometimes you gotta get outta your head.”

“I guess.” I sigh, then open my arms. “Thanks, Xavi.” 

She steps into me, her head just below my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her body is warm, but the silk she’s wearing cold. She doesn’t hug me tight or aggressively. Just stands there with her arms around my waist. 

It feels terrifyingly comfortable. 

“Anytime P.” she mutters, pulling away and ushering me out of her home. 

The whole walk back, my mind is on her and everything she said. 

How is it that this girl that is the exact opposite of everything I’m looking for, seems to be everything I need?

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

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@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

[anotherblinder]

Not Your Fault

Summary || Thomas finds her alone in the rain Word count || 689 Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader Warnings || Angst, loss of friendship Notes || It's been a long time since I posted. Over a year,things have just been up and down. This fic is pure self indulgent, i apologize for that. Lately things have been rough with me considering my bff. I'm coming to terms to most likely loosing this friendship because I'm tired of feeling like a second thought and only contacted when they need something or to talk about their daughter. I'm sure I'm not alone in this situation but it doesn't hurt any less. Everything in here is true to what I've been experiencing for years with this friend. I was hesitant to post it but I don't see why not as they have no idea i have this blog. I'll talk to them again at some point but rn I'm just tired. I hope you enjoy this fic if you decide to read it. probably ooc so be fair warned. -Jay

Regret, that’s what she felt. It only grew with every step she took. Droplets of water dripped from her hair and face as she walked on. The rain coming down in buckets. Only picking up as she continued to walk home. How could she be so stupid? This always happened, how naïve could she have been. Her best friend, so maybe so she thought, once again pulling away for a boyfriend. It was unconsciously of course, but regardless, it still hurt. As it always happened when they got in a relationship. After a breakup they’d come crawling back, spending time, talking, like nothing ever happened. It would be good, felt like they were friends again, only for the cycle to happen again when they got a new boyfriend. Only hearing from her friend when she needed something or to talk about her young daughter.  

The woman had talked to her friend about this and how she felt. She swore she’d do better but, like she thought, they grew distant again. Feeling like a second thought and only a friend of convince once again. The friend she’d knew since they were five. Always doing everything for them but feeling as though they get nothing in return. It stung, it hurt and burned. Longing for that friendship they never seemed to have in the first place. All of it sinking in as she walked home from her friend's house that night. Feeling numb and hollow at how long it’s taken her to realize it. 

She gasped as she left a hand grab her bicep. Too lost in her own thoughts to hear the steps and voice of the person calling out to them. Instinct taking over, her other hand swinging around to hit the person who had grabbed her. But they were prepared for it, catching her wrist and pulling it to their chest to prevent her from hitting them. Calling her name as she struggled. 

“Stop! It’s me Tommy!” Thomas yelled over the rain 

“Tommy?” She questioned 

The panic leaving her system to see it was Thomas Shelby. Letting out a big sigh as the tension left her. Thomas let her go as she stopped struggling. Gently he placed his hands on her arms as he looked at her in concern.  

“What are you doing out here? You’re fucking freezing.” 

It was a valid question, one that made her jump back to reality. Feeling the cold that soaked into her skin, the sound of the heavy rain all around her. The way her soaked clothing clung to her skin. How she had forgotten her coat earlier that evening. Even with all that, there was only one thought on her mind. One she voiced as she watched Thomas struggle to get his coat off.  

“Am I a bad friend, Tommy?”  

He froze at her sudden question. It was laughable to him, if he didn’t realize she was serious. Finally taking a good look at her to see her puffy eyes and red nose, not caused by the rain. With a soft sigh he was finally able to get his coat off and wrap it around her shoulders. Taking time to fix it in the front so she stayed warm and cupped her cheeks. 

“No. You are the best friend anyone could ask for.” 

“Then why does my best friend prioritize her boyfriend more than me? I’m nothing but a second thought to them it feels. Even after I've voiced my feelings about this to them. Nothing changed.” 

“Because they don’t know what they’re fucking missing. If this isn’t the first time, then nothing will change. That’s when you say fuck’em and move on.” 

“And if it’s too hard?” She asked with tears in her eyes 

“It will be hard, but you shouldn’t try to fix something that remains broken. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs for not trying. The pain will heal over time with the right people by your side. It's better to let go than struggle on.” 

Thomas grabbed her hand and lead her away to a warmer place. Making sure to mend her broken heart along the way. 

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 0

Thank you @caffedrine for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

True love–for me, it’s the worst curse imaginable.

Azel: High Priest… Please… Stop it…

The whip gouges into human flesh, and the screams of my beloved brothers echo.

Blood drips from their torn-off nails, staining the cold floor crimson, forever burned into my eyes, once called mystical.

In this hideous scene, like a compilation of all the nightmares in the world, the powerless God could only cry out until his voice gave out.

Azel: Please, I'll do anything you say.

Azel: It's because I was a bad boy, because I didn't behave.

Azel: I won't ever run away again, so please stop.

Azel: Please, please, please, please…

Clinging to the High Priest’s clothes shamelessly, repeating words like a broken doll.

Being a God worshipped by people sounds nice, but the reality is different.

Head Priest: Living God… I apologize. It’s not that I want to torment you.

The High Priest gently strokes the God’s head with compassion and smiles soothingly.

In this nightmarish landscape, he alone is kind and gentle.

Head Priest: This is also love.

Azel: …Love?

Head Priest: The Living God is a special being. It would be too late if something were to happen.

Head Priest: To ensure your noble self makes no mistakes, I must punish you severely like this.

Head Priest: All of this is because I care for you. Please understand.

The whip cracks again.

My brothers, suspended from the ceiling, gradually lose their life force and become like dolls.

If this is what is called "love" – I am disgusted by its hideousness.

Azel: … I under…stand…

Azel: I understand… so… please stop…

-

Matias: Do you guys know the trending romance novel in Acroite lately?

The three kingdom's princes gather regularly, changing locations, and occasionally engage in small talk.

The content of their conversations varies from day to day, but on this particular day, the most unwelcome topic was brought up.

Kagari: I don't.

Azel: Not interested.

Matias: Then let me lend you my book.

Azel: Only Kagari can have it.

Kagari: No way. When it comes to this kind of story, Matias is uncontrollable.

Azel: Unfortunately, I'm allergic to romance.

Matias: Oh, is that so?

Azel: Yes, so—.......

Matias: Then let me read it aloud.

(…Hell just got even more hellish, give me a break)

Matias doesn't seem to want to back down and places the book in question on the table.

It was a very ordinary-looking book with no extravagance.

Matias: This book is so detailed in depicting the process of love's development that it's called the beginner's bible for romance.

Matias: I've read through it, and it's truly a treasure trove of information.

Matias: For example, there's a scene about a first date on page 32, and according to this bible—.....

While tuning out the rambling that has begun, I casually pull the book closer and flip through it.

(Ugh… what is this)

Just as Matias praised it, the content was a graphic depiction of the process of love.

There were many unnecessary parts for a story, and most of it was filled with idle chatter between the lovers.

Kagari: Was the allergy a lie?

Azel: It's not a lie. Look at these goosebumps.

Kagari: They certainly are real.

Azel: Matias might be yearning for love, but I'm the complete opposite.

Azel: Just hearing about love and romance makes me feel sick.

*remembering the past*

I recall the "love" preached to me that day with a merciful smile.

Just seeing the word makes me nauseous, and the aversion makes me dizzy to the point that I can't accept "love."

(Well, besides that crazy old geezer, there were plenty of people who preached about love with their crappy reasoning.)

(I wonder how Matias can believe in love so innocently…)

Matias: You're strange. There's no one who hates being loved, is there?

Azel: I'm a God, so maybe I'm different from humans.

Azel: … At the very least, I don't want to be loved by anyone, nor do I want to love anyone.

Azel: I know firsthand that love is a terrible thing.

I close the book and thrust it back at Matias.

There's no doubt that this is the kind of book I never want to open again.

Matias: There's no need to return it. This book is a present for you.

Azel: I don't want it, I refuse.

Matias: Don't say that. You might detest love and romance now, but you might change your mind.

Matias: Perhaps you'll meet your ideal princess in a scorching desert, on the verge of collapse, and after nursing her back to health, you'll become intimate—

Azel: Matias, please come back to reality.

Matias: Ahem. Anyway, it doesn't hurt to have a beginner's bible.

Matias: It covers everything from how to ask someone out on a date to how to handle relationships at night. You should study it diligently.

I can't help but glare at the book that Matias pushed back to me.

(Is it too much trouble to refuse?)

(Well, whatever. It's fine as long as I never open it.)

(Or… maybe I could sell it to Akatsuki.)

(I've had enough of being loved.)

-

(...Hm?)

Suddenly, I awaken to consciousness.

A landscape I've never seen before spreads out before me.

(Is this a rose garden? It's rather desolate for one, though.)

I've experienced the sensation of entering "someone else's dream" several times before.

I don't remember all of them, but I'm sure I've never met the owner of a dream with a rose garden.

(At least it's not the kind of dream someone from the desert would have.)

An oak table is placed where several paths intersect.

On top of it, there's a single book.

As I casually pick it up and follow the letters with my eyes, the story of the dream's owner vaguely flows into my mind.

Although it's an incomplete and fragmented story, the dream owner's "wish" is conveyed to me.

Azel: I see, I see…

Azel: How truly comical.

(A strong yearning for love… Are they the same kind of person as Matias?)

Someone approaches.

Glancing to the side, I see an unfamiliar woman standing there.

???: What is…?

Azel: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and desires to know it.

Azel: Love isn't all that great.

Azel: Sometimes, it's better to live your life and die as the innocent, unknowing you that you are now.

(I don't intend to force my views on others, but…)

The woman looks genuinely kind; the type who would be the first to be taken advantage of by a swindler.

Precisely because I had that impression, the God, unusually, offered mercy.

Azel: I've seen the "love" of many people. Not in stories, but the raw, real love that exists in reality…

Azel: Many of them are people who believe they can do anything using "love" as an excuse.

Azel: It's a miserable thing, a human driven mad by love.

Azel: No matter how rational a person is, once they're driven mad by love, they can no longer live without it.

Azel: Like a curse.

(This woman who doesn't know love might become a different person if she does.)

(…I pray that won't happen.)

May the ugly curse of love not turn her into a beast—

The God, who can only pray, was as powerless as that day.

.

.

.

Chapter 1

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[justagaymoth]

It's out

I'm not finished but here it is so far

I don’t want a man or anybody I just need a warm body to hold. I don't want love of any kind. I don’t even love my friends its not like a hate them. I just don't love very often. That doesn't mean the people I love are any special. The main person I love is not “the one” whatever that means. If they were, it would be incsest. The only person I truly love constantly is my sister. This is not to say i dont care about humanity or the people in my life i just dont love them. I dont feel anything in my heart for them. Not my parents, not my friends, not the guys that ask me out because i'm pretty. I hate it when anyone says they love me because i can't love them back no matter how badly i want to. The guilt and disgust I feel when I hear the word love aimed at me like a missile that could kill a hundred men or more.

My life is pretty okay right now. Im in my first month of my semester of college and three boys have asked me out and two have asked me to parties. I like to think they asked me out because of my smart and witty comments in class but in reality its because of my face and boobs. I hate collage boys. Well most of them one is pretty alright he is in my biology 101 a first noticed him when I accidentally saw his test score on a pop quiz. I just happened to be looking that way. I was staring day dreaming about my sci fi fantasy world i've been thinking about since I was 5. The main thing that pushed me to try so hard to learn to read was that world. I needed to write it down and publish it one day. Maybe some other bullied kids would find as much comfort in that world as me. Anyways he was one of three people who didn't get a D or below on that test and this girl I didn't know were the only ones who got a decent grade.The third person who got a decent grade was me.I know this because everyone else growed or looked very sad or angry. The girl was so excited she passes she let out a tiny shriek. He got an A+ I got an A.

“Congratulations on your grade, that was a difficult quiz,” was the first thing I ever said to him.

“Thanks, hopefully you didn't do too bad.” I chuckled. I still don't know why I did that.

“I got an A. I figured I would get a B or C,” I said i was surprised i told him that last part.

“Why would you suspect a C you always make amazing comments in class. Sometimes it seems you know more than our professor.”

“You notice what i say in class? I thought no one payed attention to the professor much less me." Wait, I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Sometimes your comments in class teach me more than Professor Browns,” he chuckled after he said that. His chuckles are like music. I don't love him. Don't get this twisted, this is not a love story. And this is definitely not one of those love stories that says that it's not a love story in the beginning of the movie but by the end they are in love.there was a short pause then he spoke again.

“I forgot to tell you my name, I'm Bayley but my friends call me Bark. I have a feeling we will be friends,” after he said that he grabbed my purple pen and started writing something a the straw rapper from his pesi. “Here is my number. I need more smart friends,” he said smiling and handed me his straw rapper.

“My name is Sophia but I hate my name so call me whatever you like.”

“Well I better get to my next class bye So-” he stopped himself from saying Sophia and just waved and smiled.

I kinda hope I see Bayely again. Something about him

seem different from the other guys who gave me their numbers. I think I might actually message him. I hear a ringing sound from my phone it's a phone call from my sister.

“Hey Sophia, how are you? We haven't talked on the phone in so long. I apologize for that I've been busy with school.” I could not help but smile it makes me happy when my sister calls me. She is the only one who I actually don't mind calling me Sophia.

“Hey Emma, I'm doing pretty well. Speaking of school, another guy gave me his number.”

“Wow, isn't that like the 5th guy or something? Do you think you are gonna go out with him? Is he hot?”

“He is the first guy to give me his number and not ask me out I think he wants to be friends or something. He said he needs more smart friends. It's weird a guy wants to be my friend and doesn't see me as just a hot body.”

“So Sophia, do you think you are going to text him?”

“Yeah probably he has a rare combination of brains and being attractive. He actually made me chuckle I don't know how he did that.”

“Does someone have a crush?” She said that in a sing song voice she is clearly in her romance obsessed high school phase.

“No but if he asked to fuck i might say yes.” I probably shouldn't have said that. It's okay Emma is a senior in highschool. She lost her virginity last summer to her now ex girlfriend.

“College must be wild.”

“It's really not especially compared to high school which is probably for the best.”

“I have to go Sophia, I still have some homework.”

“Okay Emma if you need any help with your homework call me back cause I'm kinda a huge nerd.”

“Okay bye I love you sister”

“Love you too Emma” I mean it's true I love my sister and myself are the only ones I really love in this world.

I begin to type out “hi this is Sophia”. Remembering when Bayley was about to call me Sophia but stopped himself I really liked when he did that. I press send hoping he doesn't ask me out. A few minutes later I hear I ding from my phone. It's Bayley. “Hey this is Bayley. How are you?”

“I am okay just bored I finished my homework ages ago. How are you Bayley?”

“This is a weird question but can I call you?” Bayley texted

I didn't text him back, instead he called me himself.

“Hey Bayley, why did you want to call me?”

“I just want to be closer to you.” Oh fuck he wants me doesn't he?

“I'm sorry Bayley, I don't want to go out with you.”

“I don't want that either I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that I just really need someone to talk to it's getting boring. I hate being alone and I am not on good terms with my family. Oh shit I didn't mean to say the family stuff out loud. I literally just met you. I am just really awkward.”

“It's okay Bayley. I need people to talk to as well my friends from high school were shit I only have my sister and she is 2 years younger than me.”

“How old are you So-” he stopped himself from saying Sophia he remembers I don't like that name how sweet. I still don't love him.

“I'm 19. How about you?”

“I'm 20 I turn 21 in October. I don't know what I'm going to do and who I'm going to hang out with. All I know is I don't want to spend my birthday by myself.”

“What day is your birthday, Bayley?”

“It's October 20th”

“Okay,” I said looking up how many days till then on Google. It's 21 days till then. Woah I can't believe it's September 30th already.

“Do you want to hang out this weekend? There is an orchard right by my house where we can go there.” I asked hopefully he says yes. I really need something to do.

“Yeah that sounds fun. I mean how could it not you are witty and pretty.” I laughed loudly when he said that.

“Shit it's already 7:30. I need to eat dinner.” I feel a little sad to end our phone call.

“Alright bye So” he said it just like he was saying someone's name. I think I like So better than Sophia.

I hang out every weekend till his birthday. Those 21 days were some of the best of my life. I still don't want to date him or anything. However every time we hang out he gets hotter. I really want to fuck him but I don't want to ruin my only friendship I have. So I resit the urge to tell him how handsome he looks every time I see him. The more I see him the happier I feel. Hanging out with him is good for my mental health. I like his jokes. He has called me pretty a couple times so maybe calling him handsome wouldn't be so bad. It's not like it means I want to date him or anything.

My alarm rings at 9 am on October 20th. My first class starts at 10:30. The first thing I do after seeing that it's Bayely’s birthday is I texted him a message that reads “Happy birthday Bayley I've really enjoyed getting to know you. It's really nice to have something to do on the weekends besides homework, job and watching New Girl.” I could help but think Maybe I could do you sometime. Of course I didn't send that. I made him a card already and drew him. I'm not very good. It was the first thing I drew in a year. I was depressed so I stopped drawing a year ago and I just never started up again. I might as well start now. Anyways the card has two paragraphs in it describing how I felt on our adventures with him. We have been hanging out every weekend for the past 3 weeks and we have coffee and do our homework for our biology 101 and help each other.

He's leaned his head on my shoulder a few times it usually stays there for hours. It's like my shoulder is the place his head has been searching for all his life. What am I even saying? I really should be in love when I'm with him I feel happy but not in love. When he puts his head on my shoulder my stomach settles. I feel so relaxed I feel like falling asleep. That's not how I felt when I was in love at age 16. I felt energized and my heart would swell up and fly. I don't feel that way with him. I don't know if this is what people feel for their friends because I don't remember the last time I loved any of my friends at the time. I just feel comfortable, happy and horny when I'm with him. I don't know if this is love. I don't want to date him because that would be a change. I like how it is now. The only change I want is for me to fuck him.

My phone rings. It's 20 minutes till my class. I'm driving there now. My phone is hooked up to the speakers I'm playing She And Him. Zoe Dechanel is so amazing. Sometimes I think I'm in love with her but that's not how it works. She is a celebrity. I don't think I've ever been this excited for biology 101. I really like science but that's not why I'm happy. Augh I'm so fucking horny right now. I'm also nervous because I sorta wrote that fact on the card. I don't remember everything I wrote because if I memorized it I would not give it to him. I'm so afraid I'm going to ruin his birthday with this card. I want him to have the best birthday possibly. If he wants to I plan to take him to his favorite coffee shop this weekend and then my house if he wants. I have so many things to show him at my house. I don't want to ruin what I have with him. I don't really want friends besides the casual ones I see once a month for science club. I just feel overwhelmed with too many friends and too many people. I don't know.

Oh shit I'm in the class he is standing next to me. We both arrived 30 or so minutes early to make sure we could review the notes we took yesterday. He is just standing there with A huge smile on his face. Shit he sees the card.

“Uh happy birthday. I made you a stupid card and I'm not very good at writing or drawing. I mean not when it comes to non science stuff. Well…” I say awkwardly.

“I can't believe you remembered!” He says excitedly opening the card. I want to disappear. This is so embarrassing. I just stand there staring at him. After what feels like hours but can't be more than 5 minutes. He hugs me. I'm still in shock. I feel nothing but fear.

“I love it. You are so pretty don't worry I don't want to date you either. I kept trying to give you hints that I wanted to sleep with you, this is the best way to tell me.” he whispers so quietly I can barely hear him. I've never heard him whisper and it's so hot. My weekend plans are so happening! I look to see if anyone is in the hallway when I see no one I kiss his check them whisper. “I have several birthday surprises planned for you this weekend.” He smiled in the hottest way possible. Not the same smile as when he was waiting for the card. I think he knows one of the surprises is sex he is clueless about the others.

I can't pay attention to the lecture today. I'm just thinking about sex and Bayley’s birthday. I can't stop replaying what just happened in my head. It was perfect. Maybe this wasn't so impossible afterall. I hope he doesn't find a girlfriend. I don't want to be his girlfriend but if he found one we could never talk. most people I talk to I don't want their partner to speak to someone they used to fuck or date. I hope this lasts longer than a few months like all the others. Most people don't want what I want or they do at first then they change their mind and I never speak to them or they call me when they get drunk or lonely. It's annoying.

I snap back into reality when the teacher asks me what is a difference between cells and animal cells.Thank god we were learning about something I already know today.

“Plant cells have cell walls which add an extra layer of protection. Plant cells also have Chloroplasts which play a major role in photosynthesis.”

“Thank you Sophia, see someone was paying attention.”

I quickly glance at Bayley. He is starting. I should probably help him review the slides this weekend. He is not paying attention just like me. The only difference is he is not going into science as a major.

update!!

I started writing a story about a loveless aromantic aplatonic allosexual nonbinary person. They met a guy named Bayely his nickname is Bark. they meet in a collage biology class and they don't fall in love or get into any type of relationship. They after a few months of being friends he develops sexual feelings for the main charter. and they become friends with benefits but the benefits are sex and cuddles. he has never cuddled anyone besides family because all of his romantic partners have just wanted him for his body. their story focusses on their abnormal friendship but its not a queer platonic relationship. eventually the main charter wants a kid and has the awkward conversation of asking Bark to help them explaining that he does not have to have a father role in the kids life if he does not want to. he says yes after a month of thinking it over he says he wants a more uncle like role in this kids life. after a year of sometimes helping out with this kid he wants a more fatherly role in this kids life. a few months later he moves in with the main charter to take care of the one year old. Bark and the main character have separate rooms they are pretty much friends with befits roommates who are raising a kid together. I have not written all of the story yet I only started writing it today I have 692 words so far. I got the idea for this story while daydreaming about what I want. I might call the main charter Soe (pronounced like the word so) as a shortened version of the charters birth name Sophia. Might post somewhere if anyone wants to read it when its finished comment or like this post if this sounds interesting to you

[stellarhoxy]

idk about you but i saw some tiny influx of ppl say "oh it should be x who's (the wife/bottom/pregnant/etc...) not y " in some ship work around and i wanna say... don't. do this... even if you know OP likes that interchangably, i find it still really rude. when op makes transformative work, there's usually a reason why they made it that way not the other. Just appreciate the creation they've given you, as it stands. In my opinion saying that "oh but x should be bottom" is like saying "oh but i don't like how red this artwork is, can it be blue instead?"I get we each have preferences, but let's be respectful to eachother....

[mobius-m-mobius]

You wanna hear a good story? Listen to this one.

Mobius + comfort

[coollyinterferes]

The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching begins to fill the air. Whoever is coming seems to have brought some company along…

They are getting closer… and closer… and closer…

…and closer…

……until..................

"Goooooood evenin'!!" Comes the loud greeting from a certain blond man. A big smile on his face and all.

"We beg your pardon for our prolonged absence. It was completely beyond our control..." Then adds the gentleman standing by his side, apologizing on behalf of both, offering a genuine smile along with the apology.

"...BUT! We're back!" And hopefully for good this time…

[campbyler]

hi! we are also still thinking about this. thank you for the apology -- you are the third person to give us that. we still haven't gotten anything from anyone actually involved, but we appreciate it nonetheless.

we definitely understand where the offense came from, and we are both admittedly sensitive people who probably took things a little too seriously! and i am sure that contributed to everyone else taking things seriously, so we don't want to act like we are blameless victims in the whole ordeal. that said, we both fully feel that everything was blown out of proportion and we were on the receiving end of some really unwarranted and vicious behavior. to have our tweets priv quoted to hell and back and also be called lesbian haters by random bystanders who lacked any context at all left a really sour taste in our mouths that we are still not over. and for me (thea), that was actively a time in which i was coming to terms with being a lesbian and using that as a label, so it hit a little harder and a little closer to home than it probably would have otherwise.

there are several things we are still frustrated about to this day -- you are correct in that the entire thing started because we were being Asked about headcanons. asked! and yes, they were definitely leading questions that were looking for a confirmation that they were correct more than anything, but it was still a question, and when we answered differently how they wanted, the attitude shifted so quickly. prior to this situation, everyone involved was happy to interact with us on the regular when it came to getting behind the scenes info, teasers, silly q&as, extras, etc., but the minute we stood up for ourselves and simply disagreed with a headcanon, we were dogpiled on and treated like garbage. even the people who weren't partaking in it did not defend us or apologize at all -- every apology we have gotten (of the three! three!!) has been from people apologizing for the behavior of their mutuals or that weren't even involved in the situation at all, and not one of those apologies came at a time that was relevant or in a space that was public.

it's also frustrating that we literally put out an apology -- a general one addressed to everyone, and one addressed to robyn specifically, owning up to our part in it all and trying not to make anyone feel alienated -- and we were promised apologies and resolutions in return (again, by robyn specifically!!) that we never got. quite frankly, we expected that, but it sucked, and still does. your apology is one we are more receptive to because of the fact that you were a bystander, but anyone who actually partook in the Let's Dogpile CampByler event on twitter has had months to come forward and take ownership for their part in it, and they haven't even shown that they wanted to, or ever intended to, so. lol. that ship has sailed, and the concern about alienating that group has also passed, because the kind of people who feel comfortable acting like that with zero remorse are not ones we really care to have interacting with our work anyway.

thank you for taking the time to bring this back around and apologize for it. it's appreciated. i know that you came off anon as well for the last part of your message, but i don't feel comfortable posting your url just in case anyone Does try to be rude to you as a result. the only other thing i will say is this -- the discouragement was not unknowingly thrown at us. it was a deliberate take down. to imply otherwise discredits everything else you've said. i know that you might not have meant it that way, but i felt it needed to be pointed out. that being said, coming forward at all is still very much appreciated, and i also want to make it clear that this situation did not contribute to the delay of 10.2 at all.

this next bit is not directed at you personally -- again, the fact that you've come forward and addressed it at all is seriously so appreciated -- but i will be using this space as a forum to address some things said during twitpocalypse in the way i would have liked to months ago: there is a difference between a fic and a headcanon. i'm sorry that stranger things is the first fandom many of you have ever interacted with, but they are not interchangeable words, implying that they are is not the dig you think it is, and anyone who has been a part of fandom for longer than twenty minutes understands that and is laughing at you. lol. it is not my or suni's responsibility to teach you how to interact with fanwork creators, but you should learn, because your actions and behaviors are going to drive every single fic writer and fan artist out of this fandom, and all you will be left with is complaints about how no one wants to write or draw byler anymore without realizing you are the cause.

most importantly: acswy mike is not your son, is someone you have no ownership or agency of, and is not a chappell roan stan 🤎 this applies to acswy will as well. yes, we don't own mike and will either, but as they exist in Our Fanfiction (which is different from a headcanon. Still), we get the final say. nothing you say or do or private quote tweet changes any of the 330k words we have invested into this au, or make your headcanons come true, so like. cry about it? write your own fic? or feel bad like we have been since july. el oh el.

hi! member of privtwt here! i know it’s been a few months (god knows how long) after the whole Thing some of my mutuals had with you but i couldn’t stop thinking about it. i am frankly very embarrassed. i wasn’t involved in the Publicly Replying and Chasing You With Pitchforks stuff i just observed but not from afar. even then then, that was really really shitty and i’m truly very sorry for causing you any form of distress that you have felt. hope you guys are feeling a lot better thank you did in that time period. have a great day ! :)

shit forgot to put this in - most of us, including the people who weren’t involved, were offended because these were just assumptions that we, well, assumed didn’t interfere with the storyline. wallahi i thought it was just lighthearted banter until my mutuals were expressing their annoyance and the apologies came in (ours was very minimal, which was undeserved, sorry) not saying all this as an excuse btw! because after all this is *your* fictional world that you have intricately built and carefully detailed, and it was shitty of us to be annoyed at you turning down headcanons that like. go against the laws of YOUR world. especially since, if i recall correctly, they were *asking* you about their headcanons and left space for *your* opinions, in which you politely supplied. we treated it as a rhetorical question and expected validation which was very wrong. i hope any form of discouragement we unknowingly threw at your way has been gone. i mean it’s been months it probably has but i just thought i’d properly apologize because it was really irrational and frankly idiotic. i really love your fics! i’ve been closely following them a bit before acswy and i genuinely get so happy when i get an email about a fic update or a snippet etc. once again, i am sincerely sorry for all this bullshit. please keep writing 💙💛aaaand i forgot to add that the dogpiling you faced was deeply shitty and very undeserved i am truly truly sorry i exposed you to all that.

i posted this too early so everyone ignore this for now lol. it is being answered in a reblog.

[theokusgallery]

I hate that I have reoccurring themes in everything I make. YES this guy has a complex over the fact that everyone prefers his sibling AGAIN. YES he was ostracized by his peers since he was in primary school and never knew why until years later. URGH

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

today just will not let me rest huh. reasons are in the tags but i get very emotional just be warned

[fadewalking]

Ok I have beef with Harding now, too.

[spocks-kaathyra]

really nothing more detestable than a coward

[fideidefenswhore]

What are your thoughts on Jane Boleyn, and the role she supposedly played in the fall of 3 Queens (Anne Boleyn, Anna of Cleves, Katheryn Howard)? Do you think she has been too maligned by historians for centuries, especially when it comes to the relationship with the Boleyns (it seems she got along with Anne)?

Now that I've read both works and compared them side by side, I suppose I would say my stance on Jane Boleyn falls somewhere in between that of Julia Fox and James Taffe ('Somewhere in between' is not, btw, Alison Weir); although closer to the former than the latter. Offering critique of both biographies, I would say that of JF is too apologetic (smoothing out wrinkles that exist in her arguments rather than acknowledging them) and JT is too severe.

Especially when it comes to the relationship with the Boleyns? Yes and no. Obviously she was married to George, she sent him a message of comfort while he was in the Tower, and wore only black the rest of her life, which was quite the potent statement. However, I would allow for the possibility that she potentially, inadvertently implicated him or AB (ie, testimony of hers was twisted to suit the crown's case). This is where I think there are flaws in the arguments of some of her defenders-- they cannot allow for even that possibility and so make claims that disallow it; some of which are untrue. 'Jane was only blamed as a means of absolving Henry in the whitewash of Elizabethan propagandists' is not true. Johannes Sleidan in 1545 claimed that Anne and George died by her 'false accusation'. Sleidan was a Reformer, so he would have been more sympathetic towards the plights of these two than the average person, and would have spoken to others that were as well, but the motivation to vindicate Elizabeth did not yet exist; she was at this point the very unlikely third in line to the throne.

I do appreciate that you said 'got along' with Anne, not 'besties', because...it's possible they were very close, certainly, but we must also allow for the possibility of animosity. The linchpin for the argument of closeness is the report from Chapuys that they 'conspired together' to banish Henry's mistress from court. Was this the precise truth? Considering the source I'm doubtful. Probably there was a lady Henry was serving at this time (although that we never have a name makes the story somewhat suppositious), but did they need to have 'conspired together' against her for Jane to be banished from court (which is what happened instead)? Jane might have merely made Anne aware of her, and Henry finding out that she'd been the source would have been enough for banishment. Or, as was presented plausibly in Adrienne Dillard's fictional rendition, Jane might have dropped hints to Cromwell that this mistress was a supporter of the two exiled and contumacious royal women that were Anne's adversaries, Cromwell might have passed this along to Henry, and Henry might have banished Jane for shattering the illusion that this woman had no independent ambitions or ulterior motives and merely let him hit for the sheer pleasure of his company.

If this was evidence of closeness, and it might be, then we also have to remember that the end result was Jane's banishment from court, and that there is, as JT fairly pointed out, no evidence that any of the Boleyns spoke in her defense, favor, or for her return. It would take an extremely magnanimous person to accept all that with equanimity and not feel any resentment whatsoever. So, if there was intimacy, there might have also been rift.

That leaves the question: enough 'rift' for her to seek vengeance? I doubt that much for all the reasons Fox outlines in her biography, but at the same time I wish there was not this relentless push to only defend women that we assert 'deserve' defense, on the premise they were entirely selfless, accepted every insult with grace, never kept any grudges, never had personal ambitions (the actions she took during the queenships of those you mentioned would suggest otherwise), mixed emotions, or conflicting loyalties; that we could acknowledge that acknowledging the agency of historic women also means acknowledging they were capable of making mistakes.

[louderfade]

exene talking about the state of the world. the good stuff starts at eight minutes. or you can just read the transcript complete with the usual errors that accompany robot transcribed speech (the irony of which is not lost on me). maybe it's not about transhumanism and living forever (or maybe it is who knows), but there's definitely an agenda of surveillance and control at work which is designed to keep the powerful in power. cash rules everything around me and you will own nothing etc. the future is worse.