differentchaotic

Latest Posts by differentchaotic

They're family

Can you imagine when this race is won?

So many adventures couldn't happen today

So many songs we forgot to play

So many dreams swinging out of the blue,

We (have) let them come true.

The way Rafa stopped nole from putting his hand on top of Roger 🤭🤭🤭

Hitting them with the "Novak, you'll understand when you retire... Andy maybe you did too a little bit BUT ME AND ROGER WE DISCUSSED THIS ALREADY A COUPLE OF TIMES RECENTLY"

Daddy doesn't have favourites fr

Growing old is when your fav sportsmen who used to tear each other's heads off started looking like they bout to start a boyband

Andy serving demure wife that's gonna sue her husband for all his money's worth but also happy and proud of his gay awakening slash first kiss vs. Novak serving desperate husband that's tryna ride his career high whilst hopefully rekindling his ex situationship as if Swiss homotron 3000 ain't next to him ready eat that Spanish cake raw

they are very important to me

Rafael Nadal & Roger Federer | Roland Garros 2025 🇫🇷

Fedal 🧡

i couldn’t stop giggling while i was doing this edit hope you know that. novak and roger in rafa’s good graces ?

carlos has now won all 4 big titles on clay at least once!

🇪🇸 Madrid Open (2022, 2023)

🇫🇷 Roland Garros (2024)

🇲🇨 Monte Carlo (2025)

🇮🇹 Rome (2025)

carlos alcaraz is tennis

another fedal edit . i tried to do something different, very inspired in this edit !

this is so gooodddd 🤧💖

BREAK

Tap tap tap tap

The water droplets falling onto the plate in the sink. Room dimly lit by the glow of the tv, Carlos's interview on it. Only if you could still call him yours. The texts started becoming shorter, the dry replies from his end. He didn't share goofy pictures on his last tour, the calls being cut short by him, saying to call you later, but the calls never came. You tried to console him after losses, just to be met with silence on the other side.

"I-I need a break, right now this feels like a burden" He sighs, head down, afraid to even look at you. "Burden? Carlos what are you ⎯" "My game's shit, my focus is off, my points are dropping. Just, not now. I need a break, from this, from us. Please." His tired eyes meet your tear stained ones. Every bone in your body wants to confront, wants to know if all that you have given him wasn't enough, all that he gave you, about all of those times. "We can talk it out baby" you move closer to cup his cheeks, but he takes a step back. It made you feel distant. Going back and forth for god knows how long, breath shaking, a barely audible agreement, him leaving. Then silence. The silence was deafening. Your eyes refocus on the screen, he smiles at something in the interview, which just didn't feel....right. His hair has grown, his beard looked a bit unkempt. Face, mostly stoic. You could see how he uses his hands a little too much, touching his face frequently, like he used to do when he was not quite present, zoning out. This was background noise for you. You are in his hoodie, breathing in the smell of his aftershave. It feels as if the ghost of his memory is wrapping its arm around you, just like how he did numerous times. The weight of his arms around your waist after an exhausting day. His head snuggled onto your chest. His laugh ringing in your ears. Your mind drifts to glimpses. His socks lying in the corner of your wardrobe, folded neatly. His shirt, the dark blue one of RG which you loved (and stole from him), still hanging in the closet. His brush, that silly "carlitos" you had engraved on it with a permanent marker, was facing yours, in the cup holder. Except that his owner wasn't. Your apartment had parts of him still left, even though it had been a month. You didn't want to put his things away, this was the only way that you could cling onto him a bit longer. Neither did he say anything about coming to pick up his stuff from you. The loud sound of applause brings you back, as you see him leaving the court, his kit resting on his shoulders. He still has the keychain you made for him, dangling from his kit. You bring your feet closer to your chest, resting your chin on your knee. A sigh escapes your lips. The couch feeling a little too comfortable. Just like one of those rainy days, with Carlos holding your legs over his , a blanket over your bodies, as he told you about his childhood. Just like one time, when you both planned on a movie night, but then he fell asleep, the pout on his lips making him look adorable. The light causing a soft glow on his face, his cheek slightly pink, his face peaceful as he breathes out soft snores . You could watch him like this for hours, as you move a strand of hair from his forehead, bringing him closer to your chest. He snuggles, melting into you, the movie forgotten in the background. This is just a break, but why does it hurt like a breakup? Your chest feels tight and it's difficult to breathe. You don't even realise that tears have fallen, rolling down your cheeks, where his thumb used to caress ever so often, his touch gentle. How he used to hold your face, the green in his eyes gazing into yours, like you meant the world to him. How he would bend down, his lips, so soft, pressed against yours. He would kiss you, making you forget everything around you, just the warmth of his love radiating. How his fingers would hold your neck so softly, fingers grazing over your jaw, supporting your head. How he would take your breath away. The tv fell silent, the screen black. Your body sinks into your bed, finger hovering over his picture. You had secretly taken this when he was sleeping, sheets over his bare chest, hands over his head. Perhaps he still thinks about you, he still hasn't blocked you anywhere. Perhaps he still misses you, just like you do. Perhaps a part of you never left him, the duck keychain in his kit. Perhaps, he will come back into your arms again. But all you can do now is wait for him to come running home, to you. __________

masterlist

he's so gorgeous i can't

oh carlos🥺🥺🥺

gay people in my carlos alcaraz netflix original series? more likely than you think!

Aww look at my baby 🥹 Had to write smthg about this

Headcanon

Carlos is drunk. He usually knows how to hold his liquor but after today's win he just wanted to be hungover. You reached the pub to take Carlos back home before he could do something stupid with his 1 braincell demeanour. "Baby lets go hmm?" you approached where he was sitting, slowly tugging his arm. He looks towards you doe eyed, a sheepy grin on his face as he looks up, as if you are all that he sees. "Hi baby, my beautiful girlfriend" he sways a little, holding onto your arm, emphasising on 'beautiful' a bit too loudly. People around look for a brief moment. "Hi baby, now cmon get up" You help him stand up, his arm engulfing you as he holds onto your shoulder. "I- lob you so much" he giggles, kissing the top of your head. You were a blushing mess, barely able to hold him straight. "I love you too. Now, let's go home, hmm?"

my babyyyyy 😭😭😭

I know his losses are hitting hard but don't stop with the fics people 😭😭

he’s literally a disney prince

Older — CA

AUTHOR: @brennendeerinnerungen gets half of the credits for this

SUMMARY: what happens when your whole career and morality are questioned by a handsome 21-year-old?

WARNINGS: angst

taglist: @ithinkimokeei @softxcharles @v5b5 @gogz-ee @lokideservesahug @hellzliz @lvspedri @bqbylon @anneioe @kalibabysworld @vettelonso @1273lucifer1273 @mokwkhaltk @cfcalcaraz

“Where is Carlos?” Carlos Sr asks when he notices his son has been gone for a while. I take a bite of my now cold food and glance at the men restroom every now and then, waiting for him to eventually come out of it. What happened in there is definitely not what I expected a week ago. The sight of him with someone else ignited something in me, something I could not ignore.

When I look up from my plate I see him get out of the bathroom. He has an indecipherable look in his eyes. I cannot tell what is going through his mind even when he is back at the table.

“There you are. Everything alright?” His mom asks him. Carlos nods, the submissive and entranced look in his eyes now gone.

“Yeah, I met a few fans and stopped for a chat,” Carlos explains himself. Good lie. I try to hide my smirk yet I cannot help but think about the events of just a few minutes ago. Despite having returned to the table, the Spaniard still hasn’t sat down.

“May I?” He asks suddenly stretching his hand out to Isa. The whole table looks at them and I cannot feign indifference. Uh? Isa blushes but unsurely takes his hand and stands up. The two of them walk towards the centre of the huge room where another three couples are slow dancing to the songs played by the pianist. I am in shock. What is going on? Have I read this whole thing wrong?

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me and all I want to do is disappear from the face of earth. But I cannot take my eyes off the couple who is in a tight embrace. Isa’s arms are securely wrapped around Carlos’ neck and his are resting on her hips, moving around as if they had molded into one thing. I feel nauseous.

“Are you okay?” Juanki whispers to me trying to avoid more looks from Carlos’ family. I nod and try to look away but every time I take my eyes off them, I am still reminded of what is going on over there.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I lie through my teeth and start playing with my food to focus on something different.

“I didn’t know they were back together,” one of Carlos’ brothers says and everyone at the table glances at me as if I had anything to do with it. This is exactly why I didn’t want everyone knowing our business. I hate the look of pity on their faces as they look at me. I hate to feel this embarrassed, this humiliated by the situation unfolding in front of me. As I stare down at my food my vision goes blurry. No, I am not going to cry in front of all these people. Not now, not ever.

“I’m feeling sick. I think I am going back to the hotel,” I whisper to Juanki, trying to avoid choking on my words. The Spaniard understands my point of view and explains to the rest of the table my sudden and abrupt departure. I spare them a quick and forced smile before rushing outside the restaurant. I don’t know what is worse: the scene I just caused or the view in front of me.

As I pace around the busy streets of London I can’t help but drown in self pity. What happened to the ‘I am a strong woman and I am not going to change for any man’ kind of girl? What happened to all the promises I made myself? What happened to keeping things strictly professional? Maybe it is not just about being humiliated in front of his family. Maybe it is not about being professional. It is about me lying to myself all this time. I have tried so hard to fight it, to fight the feelings I was so ashamed of showing but one way or another they came out stronger than anticipated. Suppressing them only made it worse and now I can’t walk without having to wipe my tears. The bright side is that the hotel is a ten minute walk away from the restaurant but the downside is that I am close to sobbing in the streets of my favorite city in the world.

I have tried so hard and in the process I only hurt myself and the people around me. I lied to Mario and I lied to Carlos just like I lied to myself. Maybe I should have just quit back in Queen’s. Maybe that would have been the right decision to make. The only right decision I seemed to have almost taken in the past months. But now it is too late.

Maybe Isa is the best option for him: someone his age that clearly has feelings for him. He might not see it but that’s more than most people have nowadays. Someone who loves you wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Something I am not sure I can provide him with.

I don’t even acknowledge the receptionist or any of the hotel workers as I storm inside the building and head to the elevator. I just want this day to be over with. Hiding in my room won’t solve every problem but it will make me feel safe, protected. The doors open and I am quick at jumping in and pressing on my room floor. Just as they are about to close a hand prevents them from doing so. Last thing I need is a stranger watching me with pitiful eyes till we reach the right floor.

“Y/N,” Carlos.

“No,” I push him off as soon as he steps in. He looks completely different than usual. His face is contorted into an expression of sadness and pain. As if he wasn’t the one dancing with his girlfriend in front of me to make me pay for all the things put him through. And I don’t blame him because I deserve it all but now I don’t want to see or talk to him.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?” He asks stepping closer. His proximity makes me unable to breathe or think. Especially if he looks at me like that. I shake my head in discomfort while tears continue to form in my eyes.

“Talk to me, please,” Carlos corners me while the elevator starts to move upward. His hands try to take ahold of my face but I shy away from his touch. I feel too vulnerable, too naked under his hazel eyes.

“Leave me alone,” I say swallowing back my pride and my tears. Carlos manages to cup my cheeks and tilt my head back to look at me in the eye but I keep my gaze down.

“Y/N please,” he begs me and I break a little as I hear the crack in his voice. Out of instinct my eyes flicker to his and I see they are almost as teary as mine. Is he crying? His hazel gems scan over my face and try to lock with my eyes.

“Don’t you see we are both hurting each other? For what? You cannot deny we have something, Y/N. Please, please tell me I mean something to you because I think I am going insane,” he almost sobs in my face and I can’t even form a coherent thought. He looks so wrecked and tired. I haven’t seen him like this even after the worst defeat of his short career. But in all his desperation he always looks unforgettably handsome. If I could I would take a pictures with my eyes of his beautiful face to never forget it, even on my last day on earth.

“Carlos,” I mumble with shaky voice and my hands hold onto his forearms almost afraid I may fall down. He presses his lips into a straight line and clenches his jaw, attempting to fight back the tears.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. You’re killing me,” he confesses with the first tears rolling down his cheeks. I can feel a knot in my throat and my stomach drop at the sight of him breaking down for me. What have I done to the smiley guy I once knew? What have I turned him into?

“Isa—“

“Fuck Isa. I am here now, Y/N. I want you, I only ever wanted you,” he spits out but he is not quite angry, he is more… exasperated. I can read it in his eyes he is exhausted and all because of me. I soften the grip around his forearms and try to take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize although I know it isn’t enough. Carlos presses his forehead against mine and looks down.

“I have never felt this way about anyone else, Y/N. And I hope I never do again because it fucking sucks. It hurts so much and I can’t do this anymore knowing I am chasing someone who doesn’t want me,” he mumbles, some of his tears falling onto my face and wetting my cheeks. I let out a soft sob, knowing that I am the cause of his pain just wrecks me. I never meant to hurt him this much. I have been trying to be the bigger person and act more mature because of my age but I have ended up doing the opposite, behaving like a child.

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” I say again as if my apologies could ever make up for all the damage I have caused. Carlos blinks away his tears that profusely roll down his face. I take my hands off his forearms and touch his chin gently, almost afraid he would retract from my touch. But he doesn’t, in fact, he lets me tilt his face slightly so that he can look at me. I stare at him in the eyes I don’t know for how long. I just know at some point an exterior force pushes me to kiss him and for the first time in months I don’t listen to my head.

Carlos is taken aback at first but doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back. His mouth moves slowly against mine, savoring every little moment as we kiss. It is different from that time in Queen’s. This time it is slow, soft, delicate. There is no rush or second intention. We kiss until we consume each other’s lips, until we run out of breath, until we can’t anymore. My hands slide from his cheeks to his neck and then end up at the back of his head, threading through his black locks.

Despite my brain being filled with racing thoughts that discourage me from kissing him, I try to keep them at bay and focus on the feeling of his lips on mine. My whole body melts with his and I never want to part away. It feels so good to be here, kissing him, breathing in his scent, touching him. It is like my whole body needed this to heal.

“Tell me you want me too, tell me you have feelings for me, por favor,” he begs pulling slightly back, short of breath and with wild eyes. I gasp, my fingers tugging gently at his hair as the elevator’s doors open and I am abruptly brought back to reality. I stare at Carlos in silence, my mouth parted but nothing coming out of it. Carlos looks back at me, waiting for my answer but I can see he is eager to kiss me again. Despite that, he wants to be careful this time, careful that I don’t take my actions back.

“I—“ I stutter. What is holding me back now? His phone interrupts us and he pulls it out of his pocket once he notices I am too distracted by it to give him an answer.

Isabela.

“She can wait, I want—“

“I gotta go,” I swiftly get out of his caging embrace. My feet sprint towards my hotel room while my head is a mess I cannot handle anymore. Why am I running away? Again? Why can’t I bring myself to be honest with the both of us?

“Y/N, espera por favor,” Carlos begs me as he tries to catch up with me but by the time he reaches the door I have already gotten inside. I slam the door harsher than intended. The Spaniard starts knocking repeatedly on it though.

“Open up, please Y/N. I just want to talk,” Carlos begs me as I rest against the wooden door, sliding down to floor as tears proceed to roll down my cheeks once again. When I am around him I lose control over myself and it scares me but when I push him away I feel weak. Putting a distance between us gives me a sense of control over my life. But is it worth it? To shut the only person that can make my heart heal just with his laughter out of my life? To have control? What do I need control for if I can’t live without giving it up?

“Y/N? Are you there? Talk to me, baby,” Carlos whines, his voice is so close I sense that he is in the same position as me.

“Tell me what I need to do to be with you. I’d do anything, I’d even quit tennis for you. Just talk to me,” he admits. How can he be so good at being vulnerable and exposing himself to love at 21 when I can’t even kiss him without being tormented by my own guilt at 26? Maybe it is true that sometimes being naive is more useful than being experienced. He seems to have nothing to be holding him back whereas I am here, crying like a baby because I cannot let myself go.

“Amor?” My heart melts every time he uses a pet-name for me. What would we be together? Would we work? What would the world say?

“I’ll stay here all night if needed,” he adds. Silence follows his words and I start to believe he is not lying. I stare at the bathroom door while I debate whether or not I should let go of all that useless control. Where has controlling myself gotten me so far? Has it worked? Maybe it has but have I lived or just been a secondary character in my own life? If I cannot find the strength and courage to admit my feelings for Carlos, then I will have to at least find the decency to quit. I cannot let him live in his own desperation and hope to find in me something I clearly cannot give him. Just because I have dragged myself into this self pity hole, it doesn’t mean he has to crumble too.

As I stand back up on my trembling legs, I hear a sniff coming from outside. He is still crying. My heart aches at the thought of him being in any pain caused by me. How can I hurt such a pure creature? My shaky hands take ahold of the doorknob and I open the door. Carlos almost falls down but quickly raises to his feet. His eyes are puffy red and wet but he looks more relieved now that I have decided to open the door. Neither of us says anything but we exchange a look that speaks louder than any word could ever. Then I move to the side and I let him come inside the room and inside my life.

Happy five year anniversary to Match in Africa

I need another fedal exhibition match 😭

I miss them

happy two months of "Secretly, I kind of loved the whole thing. Because it was so unique—it was so you." how are we feeling

reminiscing how 90% of rafa nadal retirement tributes included roger in them.... his own legacy has roger eternally intertwined, impossible to be extricated. there isn't one without the other; when there is rafa there is roger, and roger, rafa.

I'll die on this take

fighting for my life: Carlitos’ game is and always has been closer to Roger’s than Rafa’s

The Big 4 texting on their group chat, a day before Rafa's retirement: Roger: Good luck for tomorrow, Rafa. Play well. 🤭🤩😁 Rafa: I always do when you watch. 😉 Novak: Am I… interrupting something? Andy: I regret opening this chat. Every. Single. Time.

This is money cat. He only appears every 1,383,986,917,198,001 posts. If you repost this in 30 seconds he will bring u good wealth and fortune.