#*cough* charlos

[f1-stuff]

Monza GP '24 // Pre-Quali Show

Charles: (on he and Carlos racing each other last year in Monza) "(Fred) was quite worried. I don't think he enjoyed it that much." Carlos: "No... The tifosi also enjoyed it." Charles: "Are you sure? (laughs)"

[dolcepuccino]

padel date with bf and dad’s bf 🎾

[eirianerisdar]

Living room and entranceway finally done!

Details:

And an SF-23 diagram for the room corridor (kindly gifted by the artists of the big poster):

[theemporium]

💰 charlos finding out that their sugar baby is sick and pampering her with the best items they can find, constantly sending medicine, etc.

totally not inspired by me having COVID rn

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You were stupid for thinking the maid would take the puppy dog eyes in full stride and not report back to your boyfriends.

The boys had been away for a double race weekend when you found yourself coming down with something. It hit you far harder than you expected and after a whole week of trying to push through it, you found yourself in bed with snotty tissues and a cough that made your chest feel like it was caving in. 

It was rough. And it sucked to go through alone, but you didn’t want your boys to feel bad. You had managed to avoid long calls or facetime attempts fairly well since it was the last week before they flew back. But what you failed to realise was that the maid who the boys hired to come by and clean the apartment a few days a week would snitch you out to her bosses. 

The messages you received from Charles and Carlos were a mix of concern for your condition and disappointment for you hiding your condition from them. You apologised and told them you couldn’t wait to see them when you were better (which only upset them further when you insisted that they weren’t allowed to see you at risk they would get sick). 

The race on Sunday had been at a fairly decent time, but the flu had knocked you out before a third of the race had even passed. 

You woke up hours later when the sun was no longer in the sky and the snotty tissues on the bed had been replaced with bags and boxes. Multiple bags and boxes that had designer labels on them no matter where you looked. 

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. 

“Ah, mon amour, you’re awake,” a voice sounded to the side of you, and you had little time to react before Charles was placing a kiss on your forehead before cupping your face in his hands. “Hm, your temperature seems to be getting better.”

“Charles?” You mumbled, blinking a few times before everything seemed to click together. “Oh my god—”

You had completely missed the race. Not only that, you had been asleep so long that the boys were able to fly home and apparently turn your bedroom into the next designer outlet.

“You need to leave,” you breathed out before you began to shake your head. “I’m going to get you and Carlos sick—”

Charles frowned as he reached for you. “Baby—”

“—and then you won’t be able to race and…oh my god,” you shuffled away from the boy, looking around the bed in confusion. “What—”

“You must think so little of us if you think we are going to leave you when you’re sick,” a second voice spoke up and your head snapped around to find Carlos standing in the doorway, a tray of food in his hands.

“Carlos—” You started but he quickly interrupted. 

“You’re ours, amor,” Carlos stated simply. “You’re ours to care for and spoil and look after. And that’s exactly what we will do.”

“But your races,” you argued weakly, sniffling a little but you didn’t fight it this time when Charles reached for you and pulled you against his chest.

“We’ll be fine for our races,” Charles reassured you before pressing another quick kiss against your cheek. “Now let us take care of our girl.”

You sighed and both boys grinned triumphantly. 

“The gifts are over the top though,” you told them with a shake of your head. “You need to return them.”

Carlos scoffed. “I think the fever is making you delusional, mi amor. Now eat up, you need the energy to recover.”

“Carlos—” You started but Charles shushed you with another kiss.

“We lost the receipts,” he lied badly before grinning. “And personally I think the little red set would make you feel much better—”

“Maybe when I’m not coughing up a lung,” you snorted. 

“I can be patient,” Charles retorted with a grin.

Carlos snorted. “Sure, amor, sure.”

.

[leclerc-s]

divorcegate

series masterlist

rhys jones they're joking right?

rhys jones charles isn't really leaving ferrari right?

rhys jones i already lost seb, i can't lose charles

rhys jones i still love you carlos. like so much. at least you're still staying

isabella perez SOMEONE ANSWER US!

isabella perez this isn't fucking funny guys!

charles leclerc legally i'm not allowed to say anything

isabella perez FUCK LEGALLY! TELL US THE TRUTH LECLERC!

natalia ruiz he won't even tell me isa, he's not going to budge.

penelope trevino i don't even know. carlos isn't telling me anything. carlos sainz there's nothing to tell when i don't know anything 🤷🏻‍♂️

bailey winters something is shifting

freya vettel i fear you're right bailey. things are changing.

isabella perez CHARLES! POOKIE! CONGRATS ON THE FERRARI EXTENSION.

rhys jones LET'S GO!!

freya vettel praying for your mental health bestie but yeah go sharl!

zoya torres isabella and rhys lost sleep over the possibility of charles moving to red bull

carlos sainz congrats charles.

max jones-verstappen you people are acting as if charles and i would've killed each other at red bull

mae jones-verstappen you would. it's just not fair right?

sebastian vettel congratulations charles!

lewis hamilton congrats charles!

charles leclerc thank you, all of you.

rhys jones i expect a carlos announcement in the next 3 to 5 business days

daniel jones-ricciardo something is changing and i don't like it.

daphne jones-ricciardo i think you might be right dan. whatever is happening is not that good.

penelope trevino i third that. what the fuck is happening?

isabella perez CONGRATS YOU FUCKING MUPPET

isabella perez BUT WHERE THE FUCK IS THE CARLOS EXTENSION?

rhys jones WE DEMAND ANSWERS!

carlos sainz can't say anything.

bailey winters THE LAST TIME SOMEONE SAID THAT WE GOT AN ANNOUNCEMENT LIKE 3 WEEKS LATER. WE HOLD ON TO THE DELUSION

freya vettel WE'VE LEARNED THAT DELULU IS THE SOLULU HERE!

logan sargeant what could possibly go wrong?

logan sargeant i take it back. i don't want to be the one responsible when something goes wrong.

mick schumacher *cough, lando, cough*

lando norris oh shut up, it's not like i leaked a relationship.

lando norris oh wait, i did that too.

rowan todd anyone else have a gut feeling that something big is about to happen?

arthur leclerc yes, we've all been saying that since early janurary.

daniel jones-ricciardo by the way, congrats and good luck on monday baby leclerc

arthur leclerc thanks daniel!

bailey winters I WAS FUCKING RIGHT!

lando norris bailey, not the time

isabella perez WHAT THE FUCK HAMILTON?

rhys jones HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US HAMILTON?

isabella perez THE FUCK HAPPENED TO TOGETHER OR NOTHING?

zoya torres congrats? i guess. i don't know?

freya vettel i- i don't know how to feel.

george russell i feel betrayed. why lewis why?

alex albon he's being dramatic. it's time for his monthly cry session.

mae jones-verstappen i'm really sorry carlos.

carlos sainz it's fine. i'm fine. everything is okay.

daphne jones-ricciardo it's okay if you aren't. carlos sainz there's no point in crying over something that happened, right?

charles leclerc i'm sorry carlos. truly

mick schumacher is this betrayal? from lewis?

logan sargeant toto must be fuming a la abu dhabi 2021

zoya torres logan, now is not the time. logan sargeant right, my bad. i'm so sorry.

esteban ocon i think you're all being a bit dramatic

isabella perez HOW DARE HE COME IN BETWEEN CHARLOS? LEWIS, WE HAVE BEEF

rhys jones lewis, i love you, but how dare you?

mae jones-verstappen and somewhere in monaco, nico rosberg is giggling like a maniac.

max jones-verstappen the funniest thing nico could possibly do is come back to f1 and be with mercedes, again.

george russell what makes you think i want nico as my teammate? i want alex or mick or carlos. i'll take carlos.

logan sargeant you are not taking my teammate russell. have mick or carlos!

pierre gasly this whole thing is hilarious. the internet is fighting over who gets bono in the divorce.

rowan todd this is now referred to as divorcegate

dulce perez we can't go one season without a huge scandal can we?

rhys jones r.i.p alpinegate, you were iconic until this moment

oscar piastri nice to know we can move on from the alpine thing

fernando alonso they are never letting the alpine thing go

sebastian vettel like you with multi-21? fernando alonso you said it not me

rhys jones we haven't forgotten about you hamilton. we will get our answers.

isabella perez i know where you live sir.

lewis hamilton please, let it go.

george russell OH SO HE IS ALIVE?!

lewis hamilton i'm muting all of you.

max jones-verstappen no wonder fred was so chummy with toto.

daniel jones-ricciardo who even says chummy anymore? max jones-ricciardo i do bitchiardo

arthur leclerc it all makes sense now. fred became besties with toto only to steal his driver from under his nose.

lewis hamilton your minds are all insane.

zoya torres tell us something we don't know.

rhys jones WHAT WAS THE REASON HAMILTON?!

lewis hamilton i'm not telling any of you anything.

¡leclerc-s speaks! was gonna post this yesterday but it felt to soon, so i posted it today. i cope with drama and all of this with humor and writing. what happened to "together or nothing." or "we come as a package." i'm literally still devastated over this. IF I SEE ONE MORE SAD TIK TOK EDIT I WILL BE COMMITTING CRIMES. I SWEAR IT.

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

[leclsrc]

could i req a threesome with charlos :))) thank u so much and happy holidaysss!

motorsport – cl16, cs55

genre: pwp, drabble

Carlos joins in on some fun between you and your boyfriend on the way back to the hotel.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... threesome, car sex, dumbification, degradation, dirty talk really, voyeurism/exhibitionism, edging

auds here... hope u like it anon and everyone :) sry this came so late!

You giggle into Charles’ hair when he bites into your neck, mumbling a flirty stop it when he nibbles another mark just under your jaw. His lovebites are notoriously difficult to cover up, always settling into the darkest of blues and purples that no concealer can win against. 

But that’s not what you’re worried about. That’s not what’s slowly dragging you out of the reverie of your inebriated state, forcing you to sober up and think with clarity. Charles is busy, kissing along your jaw, letting his thumb ghost over your tits, alternating those touches with hasty yanks of your dress upward.

It’s the fact that Carlos is fully sober, barely two feet away, driving all of you to your hotel.

“Charles, baby,” you say, louder this time. You suddenly feel shy remembering Carlos’ presence, like a kid caught stealing a cookie. “This can wait.” He stops moving against your neck, lets his lips travel upward until they’re pressed against your ear, then turns away from you and toward the driver’s seat in front.

“I really don’t think it can wait,” Charles says. “Do you mind, Carlos?”

“Mind what?” The latter coughs, feigning disinterest. 

“Watching my girlfriend cum in the backseat.”

A thick, tense silence spreads like fog over the car. You shut your eyes, body welling up with shame and yet arousal at the thought of being watched, played with. Used. You push your raked-up dress down further, but a hand circles your wrist to stop you. It’s a signal. Wait.

“I don’t,” Carlos says, voice low. Something stirs in the pit of your stomach. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Charles says, smiling, “why don’t you give him a show?” You bite your lip, nodding, letting your boyfriend drag your dress upward, higher, until all you see is black lace. The delicate material is pushed aside to make way for Charles’ fingers, teasing against your pussy.

He runs a knuckle in between your folds, his thumb rough against your clit. You throw your head back. “Please,” you whimper.

Carlos can’t believe what he’s listening to right now. Prior to this, you’d been Charles’ girlfriend, the funny, pretty girl he saw every so often during race weekends. But it takes one bottle of Fireball—now you’re moaning in his backseat. Giving him a show. He knows he shouldn’t like this so much, but he’s painfully hard, and even more painfully close to swerving this car off the highway.

For his own sake, he’s actively trying to hold off on looking into the rearview mirror unless he feels he truly needs to, because he knows what he sees is going to be the death of him.

Behind him, you rut against Charles’ fingers, a silent plea for him to stuff them into you. He’d gotten you into this mess, might as well grant you an orgasm, too. But your grinding does nothing but make you so much wetter, until his fingers are almost dripping with your slick. A frustrated, quiet moan slips out of you. It’s not enough.

“Carlos, mate.” You blink—why is Charles calling his attention? “Apologies for this little brat beside me. She’s made a bit of a mess.”

Your eyes travel down, shame running through you at the sight of your slick dripping onto Carlos’ car seat. You really did make a mess, you think, whining when Charles knocks his thumb against your clit to gain your attention.

Carlos clicks his tongue. “I’d been told you were a good girl,” he says. You pretend to remain nonchalant, eyes trained on the road ahead, suddenly cornered. Charles chuckles beside you, remarks some crass sentence about how you just got even wetter. 

“I am good,” you insist. “I’ll prove it.”

Your boyfriend shoves two thick fingers into you, watching and feeling you clench around him, more slick pouring out of your tight hole. He thrusts them in and out, pushing you into a blissed out state. You grind harder against his hand, involuntary moans escaping your mouth as you near release.

You’re so tight, so close, in such a short amount of time—Charles can guess why. He stuffs a third finger in, doesn’t wait up for you to feel the stretch as they pump in and out of you. Your brain is clouded, focusing only on how his fingers press, hard and insistent, against the spot inside of you that makes you whine.

He doesn’t slow down, reaching deep and rubbing against your g-spot when his other hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. Your mind is barely coherent, eyes fluttering with ecstasy. You gonna be a good girl? He asks. 

You nod, delirious. Then he says: Go apologize to Carlos.

Suddenly shy, you freeze and shake your head, but his fingers slow as a result. It’s clear he��s telling you, not asking, and you grit your teeth and throw your head back. “I said apologize, sweetheart,” he says, voice deceivingly charming as he feels you pulse around him.

“Carlos,” you say, shaky, “I—I’m sorry.”

Charles takes a moment to thrust even harder, to muddle your brain even more, get you drooling and dumb just for them. You’re losing your train of thought, Carlos knows this, but still he asks, “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you say. You could sob with how intense Charles’ fingers fuck into you, fast into your greedy, sopping cunt. “A big mess. Made a big mess.” Your voice is damp and breathless with the need to cum, your hips rolling to meet Charles’ hand. He rubs your swollen clit in tight circles, knocks louder whimpers out of you. All anyone can hear is the squelch of your pussy and your pathetic moans.

“Gonna cum, princess?” Charles asks, voice rough against your ear. You nod desperately. You can almost taste release, climax—then. “Carlos, should we let her cum?”

Charles continues thrusting and you stave off your orgasm, whining. He’s basically using you, holding a coherent conversation while he drives you to finishing. Carlos tuts. “She’s been good, Charles. Go ahead, let her cum.”

“You have, haven’t you?” Charles asks, and you nod along, biting your lip to channel your pleasure somewhere. Your eyes gravitate toward the rearview mirror, glassy and huge, waiting for Carlos to look. To give you attention, to see how wrecked he and your boyfriend have gotten you in the backseat of his own car. Charles has you shaking and eking out whimpers and moans then, so overwhelmed with pleasure you’re gushing slick all over the seat again.

Your tongue lolls out and you gasp, meeting Carlos’ eyes right then. “Fuck, Charles—I’m—I’m gonna cum, Carlos, I—!”

He thrusts one last time into your overstimulated pussy, your thighs shaking as your release spills all over his wrist and the seat. You pant, spent. Blinking through the haze of your orgasm, you find yourself belatedly realizing you’ve been parked at the basement level already. 

Carlos unbuckles his seatbelt. “About that apology, baby...”

[snofduti]

au where charles is a streamer who has spent the last few months talking, criticizing and basically mocking the content and everything that surrounds the gym rat (aka carlos) reacting to his tiktoks in his twitch streams.

one day like any other, the peace of the guy from monaco was disturbed in the middle of one of his streams.

“carlos has talked about you on his Instagram live,” read charles, “oh, is that true? let’s see... “he clicked on one of the many tiktoks that carlos fans made about today’s live, which clearly had his name. “alright...” he said before coughing, taking his bottle of water to drink from it, but nothing, nothing in this world would prepare him for the next.

“i have seen that there is a guy who doesn’t stop talking about me in his videos.” the spaniard said while apparently he was preparing his breakfast. “honestly, it would bother me a little more if he was less cute...”

charles could feel his own face warming up as if suddenly there was a lot of sun. trying to control his expression, he looked at his stream’s chat watching how the word “charlos” was repeated like a thousand times.

charles lecrec wanted to die.

[whirlwindofcomplications]

Grill the Grid 2024 : Earliest F1 Winners

topical since we've had two first wins this season!

‘bad bad news’ - oscar

everyone putting lewis at the top immediately ✧ ‘so FEWEST we’ve got LEWIS’ - charles ✧ both charles and zhou going well that’s it then

seeing some of the drivers put themselves right at the bottom...

logan pronouncing it bow tahs.

daniel not being able to talk and stick

zhou criticising the stickiness of the labels

‘EYE am. I will say pretty close to max’ - charles

majority putting max and charles together even if it’s not historically accurate. classic

'fangio bwugh' - alex

most of them think fangio's quite high up but higher than lewis? surely not :0

george straight up calling checo 40 like he isn’t 5 whole years younger than his lewis + mutiple people saying he's been around for a while but not mentioning the geriatrics (I’m not pressed I just think it’s funny) ✧ also checo’s little cough after hearing the 190…

I see u hulkenberg… momentarily rating max above lewis… hulkstappen ftw

charles seemingly on first name basis with everyone. except fangio (michael. lewis. seb. max. jenson. checo. ayrton. daniel. cahlos)

charles’ little smile when she said ‘right on time very good’

‘i've been incredible’ vs ‘so I did terrible thank you very much’ charlos u rock my world

TINY DRIVERS PHOTOS FROM THEIR FIRST WINS ✧ charlos’ just being the official f1 pics... editor why…

charles asking her to go through them all in order. if I speak.

oscar saying ‘kind of sort of but no’ to her ‘kind of sort of yeah’ ✧ ‘but im not gonna get ANY points’ - joint first ✧ aussie lockout for first place for this challenge !

daniel’s ‘im gonna do some quick math’ ‘you’re good at this apparently’ - gets it wrong twice

not me also saying 33 for charles… the lestappen brain rot is real (he won it on his 34th so he’d had 33 races before his first win, and ofc the 33 is the stat I remember)

[starzzach]

idk if youre still taking these but... aranged charlos?

yes of course i am still taking them anon! i don't know if you're coming from ao3 bc this is a published ongoing wip w/ 2 chapters to go. i honestly had to take a full step back from the constant fretting about finishing it, one reason being to prevent burnout and one reason being i am currently on vacation lol

it's basically about charlos getting contractually married very young and having babies (this was the idea when first developed).

another reason being that i have scrapped the 15th chapter about six times at this point, and even though i've written multiple notes for it actually writing it has been ... tough, to say the least. i will recommend, if you haven't read 'i take my whiskey (neat)', to not click under the cut!

i decided to include a bit of the epilogue instead of the 15th chapter purely bc i have written that most recently !!

-

they look at each other, his father with mild confusion and his dad with mild concern. his dad speaks first, coughing, “rafa, this is…?”

rafael springs into action. “this is ella,” he introduces as she waves hello. “she’s my, erm, my girlfriend.” he grins, hoping to earn their sympathy. “ella, these are my parents, charles and carlos,” pointing to each of them in turn. “i think my siblings are outside–”

“i’ll take you,” his father offers, still slightly confused. “we are, ah, grilling out back. do you like grill? i can show you out–” he stops, scratching the back of his neck, thinking hard. “we have invited a lot of people, but i’ll just walk with you so you don’t get lost.”

ella shoots him a panicked look before she’s shepherded nervously off to the back with his equally nervous father. his eyes follow their retreating figures, tightlipped, and his only thought is that they hadn’t been so scared of millie’s girlfriend. tearing his gaze away, his attention rests on his dad. he looks amused, fighting a smile, his arms crossed over his chest. he leans over the counter, towering over rafael from where he’s stood on the platform. 

“so,” he starts. “why is this the first time i am hearing of this girlfriend?”

rafael blushes high in his face, his ears turning red. “it’s new,” he sighs, pointed. “she’s in one of my classes, in english. she’s really nice, i think you’ll really like her.”

“yeah?” he says. it’s not a question. “how long have you been, you know, together?”

“two months, but i’ve known her for longer.”

his dad nods, thoughtful. he steps off the counter, his palm cold against rafael’s back. he stands slightly taller than his dad, something he takes advantage of, pulling him into a hug, squishing him. “my baby, all grown up,” he murmurs.

“daaaaad,” he whines, nearly suffocating. “stop, i’m not a little kid–”

his dad lets go, but cradles his face between his hands, pulling at his cheeks. “you’ll always be little to me,” he says, eyes twinkling. it’s the only part of him that stands truly the same from twenty years ago, resistant to time and change. “come, let us make sure your papa has not scared ella back to new york.”

he laughs at that, a little strangled, because he thinks the opposite is also entirely possible. laura materialises when they step out, blinking owlishly up at him behind her circle frames. “i met your girlfriend,” she says, eyes narrowed. she clutches a book to her chest and rafael has to stop himself from rolling her eyes because it’s so stereotypical of laura to be studying at their family cookout. “how do you have a girlfriend?”

this time he does roll his eyes, wrangling her in for a one armed hug. “good to see you too, chiquita,” he mutters. her reply is lost in her derogatory mumbling. “where is she? ella?”

“being harassed by your brothers,” comes his dad’s reply, a note of alarm in his tone. “you go and say hi to your uncles before they keel over and die, i’ll deal with this.”

laura and rafael watch as their dad wrangles their twin brothers into obedience, apologising to an even more apologetic ella. at ten, marco and miguel are getting up to absolutely no good, and have just started to grow out of the inseparable phase. it doesn’t mean they don’t team up to cause havoc at times like this – quite the opposite by their display just now. rafael feels uneasy, sweat starting to form. he coughs, gesturing, “i should– i should go over there, right?” he asks. “that’s something i should do?”

laura eyes him with no small amount of disdain, but her expression softens when she gently pushes at his shoulder. “you’re a real idiot you know that?” are the words that come out of her mouth. “seriously, you must be so glad millie’s inheriting the company instead of you, what a disaster that would have been–”

“–yeah, yeah, i’ve got it,” he grumbles, secretly pleased.

ella doesn’t notice him coming, her shoulders tense when he gets his hands on them. he pulls her into his embrace. “hey, you,” he says, willing his voice not to shake. “you’re okay?”

she sighs, relaxing just the slightest bit. “you know, in the car i was going over everyone’s names, and what you’ve said they like,” she admits. “but there’s like… so many. i couldn’t even figure out which one of your brothers i was talking to.”

rafael snorts. he smoothes down the sleeves of her shirt, trying to be comforting. “don’t worry, i had trouble with it for years. i still do, when they’re playing tricks.”

“ah, ella, i’m sorry, i had to take this call,” his father’s voice says from behind them. he’s smiling, awkward, but he’s smiling. “hi, rafa. did you–” his face falls, he must have seen his dad berating his brothers behind them. “oh, you met the twins?”

“she did,” rafael answers for the two of them, grimacing. “they’re being, well, you know better than me. how they’ve always been.”

his father sighs, muttering, “may lord help us all until they grow up,”  in spanish as he passes them by, patting rafael’s shoulder.

-

of course they had more babies. is anyone surprised?

[hourcat]

"You're being particularly annoying." For Piarles <3

Pierre is still a lump on the couch when Charles pads back into the living room, partially-peeled banana in hand. Of course the only time his boyfriend knows when to get sick is during summer break--the too-short month of reprieve that they can never seem to spend properly year after year. Last year, Charles got sunburnt so badly during the week he'd gone off to Brazil on his yacht that he'd been untouchable for five whole days: Pierre had spent a majority of the first few rubbing aloe all over him and keeping him perched in front of the window AC unit.

This year, apparently, Pierre has the flu and has been pretty firmly rooted to the couch in his Milan apartment for the last 15 hours.

Charles tries to tiptoe his way over to the coffee table to leave the banana for Pierre whenever he wakes up, but his weight lands wrong on one of the creakier floorboards, and sure enough--

"Charles?" Pierre sounds groggy and disoriented as he lurches awake, blankets half thrown off him only to reveal just how sweaty his bare chest is.

It would probably be sexier if Charles weren't so concerned with keeping him from, you know, dying. "Hey," Charles says soothingly, striding the rest of the way to Pierre's side. He sinks to his knees and uses his free hand to push Pierre back into sleeping posture. "It's okay, Pear. Go back to sleep, I've got a banana for you when you feel like eating." He's not going to force the issue right now, since Pierre hadn't been able to keep the rice from earlier down: fluids are the priority, and his glass of water is mostly drained, which is good. Charles rests the banana on the table and picks the glass up, beginning to push back to his feet--

"Charlo," Pierre groans, reaching for the closest part of Charles he can find. His hand is too-hot as it grasps his bicep firmly. It makes Charles shiver.

"I'm here, petit. What is it?"

Pierre groans again, softer this time. "Your hand..." he lets go of Charles' arm only to tap insistently at his wrist, jostling the cool glass he's holding. "Looks cold." He sighs, then releases Charles only to flop backwards, a little dramatically, onto the couch. He watches as Pierre's eyes flutter closed, like he's going to fall asleep, but doesn't do anything until one eye cracks open. Waiting. Charles wants to laugh at how far he regresses whenever he's mildly inconvenienced like this--although, realistically he probably doesn't have a whole lot of room to talk himself.

"Yeah," he murmurs instead, setting the glass back down. He sits at the edge of the cushion and presses his hand, wet from condensation, to Pierre's forehead. (Which--he's still feverish. Maybe he'll need the thermometer again this evening after all.) "Here, P. Like that?" The rumbly noise Pierre makes in response is all he needs. "I have you, squid." Charles sits there for a few moments longer, then collects more of the condensation on his palm again and reapplies his hand. Pierre sighs. "Maybe we can get you into a cold shower soon, hm?"

At that, the Frenchman groans. "Later," is his response, followed by "don't wanna move" in that petulant whine Pierre always uses when he's trying to keep Charles in bed. It always annoys him a little--but today, at least, he'll cut his boyfriend some slack.

"Okay, Pierre," he hums, removing his hand once more. The glass isn't nearly as cool anymore, likely from the heat of his palm, so Charles grabs it once again and moves to head back to the kitchen for a refill. When he stands, though, Pierre whines again, then coughs and tries to re-pitch it as a groan. Idiot, he thinks lovingly. "What is it?"

Pierre pouts. "Don't go," he mumbles, reaching for him again as if he's not just standing upright beside the couch. "Please, Charlie."

Charles can't stop the laugh that slips out. "Pierre, my love," he hums, squatting back down to be eye-level with Pierre, "I have to go get you more water, and probably more paracetamol. I'm not going anywhere." But the pout settled on Pierre's lips seems to only get deeper upon explanation. "Pear."

"Pleaseeeeee," Pierre groans. "You are the only medicine I neeeeeed."

"Said like a man who ignores his trainer even better than he drives." He gets a cough-giggle from his patient, at least: Charles ignores the next pitiful moan and speeds to Pierre's kitchenette, where he grabs the paracetamol from where he'd left it on the countertop and then refills the glass with ice and water. (Sure, Pierre is annoyingly clingy when he's sick, but...Charles can't help but enjoy it at least a little. An unabashedly-snuggly Pierre is such a rare occurrence that Charles sometimes forgets how insufferable he gets when he's under the weather.) Now properly armed, he makes his way back into the living room, where...Pierre is flopped out again, eyes closed and mouth open. He's breathing (Charles checks every time) and he's got the blankets mostly up over his chest, so he must've just fallen back asleep.

Probably for the better. It's not going to get any easier, maneuvering him into his bathroom for a shower, but if he's gotten enough sleep, he'll be fine for the ten or so minutes it'll take for Charles to scrub him down.

"Rest up," he murmurs as he returns to Pierre's orbit. He sets the water glass down alongside the little orange tablets and sinks to his knees once more, just to press a kiss to Pierre's sweaty, kind-of-cooled forehead--

Only for Pierre's arms to fly out and grab hold of him, surprising him thoroughly as he tugs Charles onto the couch on top of him. Charles doesn't even have a chance to put up a fight from the shock. "Ha-ha!" His laugh is honking and loud and right in Charles' ear. "I have you, cheri."

"Pi-erre," he groans in response, trying unsuccessfully to untangle himself from the mess of blankets and limbs that Pierre is now attempting to cocoon him in. "Come on, you need to rest--"

"Shush," Pierre interrupts, matter-of-factly. "I sleep best when you are with me, Cha, you know that." There's that whine again. "You got me my paracetamol, and my water, and now you can be my medicine." His arms tighten around Charles' torso, and Charles just sighs, knowing he can't really wrestle his boyfriend without doing more damage.

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you, you know," he mutters instead, shifting so that he's no longer crushing Pierre under his bodyweight but now tucked firmly into the space between Pierre's feverish body and the back cushions of the couch. "Can't do that here."

"Mmmm," Pierre answers, clumsily stretching his tangle of blankets so it covers the both of them, "you are taking care of me just fine here, mon ange." One arm drapes over him. "See? Medicine."

But he's too warm to cuddle comfortably with the blankets, and Charles knows he's going to have to worm his way out of this one eventually because he will, in fact, have to actually get Pierre to take the pills sitting on the table. "You're being particularly annoying," he says under his breath as Pierre tugs him closer.

The sentiment just gets him a rumbly laugh in return.

[reginaldqueribundus]

#1 would actually not be too bad until you get to the end, then it's a 50/50 toss-up whether Wapol or Luffy is gonna eat the blunt

#2 is also not bad, but I feel like Orochi would slow it down by going snake mode and letting all 8 of his heads have a puff. Gedatsu's gonna fuck it up by putting the blunt in his ear or trying to smoke the wrong end or something. Perospero might put his weird gross tongue on it

Row 4 has some good some bad. Enel is the main problem, that motherfucker's incapable of being normal about anything. Clown might spike the weed with some crazy shit that turns you into a gorilla. Blackbeard's a right bastard but you could absolutely smoke a fatty with him... until he activates his black hole powers and inhales the whole damn thing at once. Dick.

Group 3 fails right out the gate when Hody refuses to share a blunt with filthy humans, and then Sakazuki tries to execute everyone for drug possession

the reddit poster is right that #6 is pretty bad, and not just from Trebol getting nose cum all over the blunt — having to listen to Stelly for any length of time, high or not, is a war crime. instant deal breaker. and you just know Decken does some dumbass shit like making the blunt fly over to the next person, Spandam obviously fumbles the catch bcuz he's a waste of life, he drops it on Trebol, boom. Snotsplosion and your house burns down.

But the absolute worst is 5. Tashigi will def narc on you and/or lecture you about the health risks. Weevil gotta ask mommy for permission first and probly gets snot on the blunt. Helmeppo coughs for like 10 minutes from one weak hit and then greens out, full on paranoia shit show. And there's no way I'm touching anything Doc Q puts his mouth on. That dude has so much fucked up shit coursing through his veins not to mention he might give me smallpox and turbo-syphilis just for funsies. “Can my horse have a hit?” fuck off, dude. and then you got fuckin Charlos, who's absolutely NOT gonna share a blunt with the peasants. He's either shooting you and keeping the whole thing for himself or pulling out a shitty vape pen and trying to use you as a chair. What you wanna do is leave early and text Marco to meet at your place for bong rips with Shanks, Queen, Bentham, Señor Pink & Rayleigh.

[peachyyykid]

Deceivers Ch. 8 - Change

Word Count: 3105

Chapter 7 - Interrogation

Chapter 9 - Attack

After the incident, Killer had taken you to the kitchen. He offered you something to eat, which you gladly accepted. Your last meal was too long ago. You smiled sweetly at him and took a large bite off the tuna sandwich.

"Approved?", he asked, and you nodded quickly.

"Thank you, it's really good!", you mumbled with a full mouth and when you were done chewing, you inspected the plate to gather courage to ask Killer the question that had been burning on your tongue the last fifteen minutes.

"Uhm, Killer? Can I ask you something?"

"Go on", he nodded.

"What happened just now? I mean", you sighed, "I guess I'm just confused. Kid treats me like shit, but others aren't even allowed to touch me? What happened to Brone? And before you tell me that I don't need to know, I can handle it."

Killer sighed. "You need to speak about that with Kid directly. It's not my place. And about Brone...", he shrugged and crossed his arms, "I think Kid cut off his hand."

You choked on a piece of sandwich and Killer quickly made his way over to you to pat your back.

"He - what, why?", you shrieked, coughing up small pieces of bread.

"As I said, it's not for me to talk about since I could only assume what went through his head, and he wouldn't appreciate me telling you anything about it."

"Typical Killer, one hundred percent loyal to his captain...", you sighed.

Killer wasn't a man of big words, so you knew that egging him on would lead you nowhere. Instead, you would make up your own thoughts of the situation.

"I am, that's what makes me the best first mate ever", the masked man said, sounding so casual as if he didn't just compliment himself.

You chuckled a little and you imagined Killer smiling under his mask. This was the first time in months that you had laughed. Laughed genuinely, not pretending to laugh to please your fiancé or being so scared and alone that there was nothing to laugh about anyways. Killer definitely wasn't bad company. Would you miss him? Probably not, but he was pleasant enough to hang around with comfortably.

You sat in the kitchen in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until you were done eating. The night had been so stressful for you mentally, and since your stomach was full again, you felt the tiredness wash over you. A few months ago, sleeping during the day and staying up all night would have been a no-go for you. But a lot changed lately, and your old life had long been gone.

In order to somehow keep a normal sleeping pattern, you decided to force yourself to stay awake. You wanted to use the time when the whole crew was invested in going to the New World via an underwater passage to sneak around the ship, exploring it a little.

You excused yourself out, telling Killer that you wanted to go to the infirmary. You felt his eyes bore into your back and you were sure that he would follow you at some point to make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid. But for now, you were fine, because you actually wanted to stop by in the infirmary.

It was about time to check on your injuries again. On all of them, not just the painfully obvious ones.

Once you slipped through the door you headed towards the floor length mirror. The lighting was a lot better in here than in Kid's bathroom. You wanted to check on the minor injuries first. Slowly, you unbuttoned the long shirt. It slipped past your shoulders and bundled up into a heap at your feet.

You looked at your body in the mirror. You liked it usually, but the recent weeks had taken a toll on it. The bruises that you had gotten from Charlos looked faint and didn't hurt anymore. You turned around and looked at the branding. Despite the fact that you hated it and wanted to cut it out of your skin, it looked relatively healthy. Some ointment would do, just like on the cut running down your cleavage.

A small bruise had appeared on your lower back, from when you fell on your coccyx. At least it wasn't broken. Your jaw was still held in place by a bandage and would take some more time to fully heal.

Sighing, you sat down on one of the beds and slowly removed the bandage from the injury that would need the most attention: the wound on your leg. You winced when the cool air hit the skin, but at first glance it looked alright. You decided to not put another bandage around it for now. It would leave a nasty scar, but you didn't care, it reminded you of how you successfully escaped the clutches of the world nobles. It would become a proof of your strength.

After you gathered all the needed supplies and treated every inch of your body, you had another look in the mirror. It looked a lot better, and you immediately felt more comfortable knowing that everything was healing.

Just as you were about to force a smile, a dark voice boomed through the hallway.

"WHERE IS SHE!?"

You opened your eyes wide in shock and tried to scramble up the shirt. You could hear how he slammed a few doors open, coming closer to the infirmary. You didn't know why you were scared, you hadn't done anything wrong, and you didn't try to run either.

With your shaking hands it was surprisingly hard to get a hold of the shirt in time. The door flew open and revealed a fuming Kid. He bared his gritted teeth and his red hair seemed even more fiery than usual.

You stood in the middle of the room, frozen in shock... and only in short pants. You wanted to move your arm to cover your boobs, but Kid stared you down so intensely. You felt how your face lit up bright red and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread in your stomach.

His angry frown turned into a shocked expression, then into his signature smirk. Suddenly, Killer appeared behind him, hectic because he probably thought Kid would break all your bones if he found you.

"She said she wanted to go to the in- oh no", he said flatly and immediately turned around. At least he had the decency to not stare at your half-naked body, unlike his captain, who still hadn't taken his eyes off you.

You heard footsteps of several men approaching the infirmary, probably because they were noisy about the commotion. It made your body move at least, and you managed to slip the shirt back on. Why didn't you lock the door anyways? Although, locked doors probably couldn't stop Eustass Kid...

"Are you dressed, (y/n)?", Killer asked with his back still turned to you, but before you could answer, Kid raised his voice.

"She is, unfortunately. You can come in, and close the door."

Kid didn't take his eyes off of you for even a second. You couldn't decipher his face at all, you had never seen anyone look at you like that.

"W-what's wrong?", you stuttered quietly, and your eyes darted between Kid's chest and the floor. What a stupidly embarrassing situation. You wished the floor would swallow you whole.

The two men put their heads together, well, Killer moved towards Kid, and he still hadn't stopped looking at you. What was his fucking problem?

"Do you think she's still gonna run? Can she walk around on the ship on her own?", Killer asked Kid.

"I think she realised it's stupid to run", Kid tried to whisper, but it was still loud enough for you to hear.

"She could be waiting for the right opportunity...", Killer said, now looking at you as well.

"She pulled some annoying shit already", Kid growled.

"She wants to see her fiancé though. She knows she needs to behave for that to happen."

"She could be lying about that. Maybe it's a trap", the captain huffed, looking you up and down.

"But her story made sense." Was Killer on your side now?

"Didn't you want her off the ship? Soft spot aye?", Kid shot back and narrowed his eyes.

"I still want her off the ship. But she doesn't need to die for that. She is just a girl."

Their conversation went on before you raised your hand, interrupting the two pirates. You wondered if men were physically unable to whisper. Their conversation clearly wasn't meant for your ears, but they failed miserably.

"You know that I can hear you, right?"

They looked at you as if you said "rum isn't the best alcohol in the world" or some other shit they wouldn't like to hear. You looked back at them and shrugged.

"You're kinda loud... I won't run though, Killer said it. I'm desperate to be with my fiancé."

Lie. It was a lie. You didn't want to be with Deku-sama specifically, you just wanted to get a fraction of your old life back. A plain, but quiet and non-dangerous life.

Kid scratched his nose, and you could see that he was thinking hard, probably pondering with himself if you could be left unsupervised. He stepped closer, gingerly holding your jaw with his rough fingers. He did it so naturally but for you it was such an unfamiliar feeling. You were frozen as he moved your head around, inspecting your face.

"You can walk around on the ship under two conditions. You sleep in my room and Killer will teach you the basics of how to fight. I can't afford to carry dead weight once we're in the New World."

"He will... what?" "I will do what?", Killer and you said in unison.

The masked man put a hand in front of his face and sighed. Like the great first mate he was, he didn't complain any further.

"If we get attacked in the New World no one here is going to protect you. So, either you can defend yourself or you fall back. Or die. And we wouldn't want to lose 15 million belly, right Killer?", he said and gave Killer an affectionate slap on the back.

You swallowed a lump in your throat. This man was so back and forth. He insulted and injured you but cut off another man's hand because he was doing the same. He could touch you so carefully and then make it obvious that he didn't care if you dropped dead. And you had only been here a little more than a day.

You didn't feel like exploring the ship anymore either. Screw a normal sleeping pattern, it was the only thing that could make you feel better right now.

"Okay. I'll go to sleep then", you said flatly and squeezed past Kid and Killer. They watched you as you went through the door, slamming it behind you.

You made another stop in the kitchen (since you could move around freely now) to grab a bottle of water. You also found a toothbrush and toothpaste in the storage, and some shampoo.

"Oh my fucking God, finally!", you exclaimed and pressed the toiletries against your chest lovingly. Since your escape from Charlos, you hadn't had a shower or brushed your teeth. You disgusted yourself but who could blame you?

With your findings still close to you in case someone would try and take them from you, you stomped towards Kid's bedroom. Which was kind of yours as well now. You were angry but couldn't really pinpoint why. Probably because Kid confused you and you hated not being able to assess people properly.

The first thing you did was going to the bathroom, immediately locking the door this time. You let the water and some of the shampoo run into the bathtub and watched in awe as you saw steam building up. You undressed quickly and when you slipped into the hot, foamy water you sighed in content.

"Ohhhh my lord, finallyyyy", you purred.

You needed this desperately. The hot water burned a little, but it was so soothing as well. Laying in the hot bath with your eyes closed was pure bliss and helped you escape into beautiful daydreams. You washed your hair as well, carefully not to damage the bandage on your jaw.

You soaked for a good thirty minutes until your hands looked like your grandmas'. Satisfied, you dried yourself with a random towel and then proceeded to brush your teeth. You practically moaned in delight as the minty toothpaste filled your mouth.

"Phinally", you said with the brush between your teeth.

Your little self-care time had relaxed you so much and you finally smiled and honest smile. You put the shirt back on and decided to ask Killer for a few more clothes tomorrow.

After you stepped out of the bathroom, reality hit you like a brick. You wanted to sleep so desperately but there was only Kid's bed in here. Not even a damn couch.

"Bite me, you're not gonna take my sleep away", you hissed and grabbed one of the blankets on his bed. You rolled it into some kind of sausage and placed it in the middle, basically separating the bed into two halves. You doubted that it would last, but at least it was a sign. If Kid would understand it that was.

You laid down on the outer side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible. You thought falling asleep would be hard, but it only took you five minutes to drift into a deep slumber, dreaming of blue, glowing jellyfish.

---

Meanwhile on a small island in South Blue

"Lord Deku-sama! Lord Deku-sama!"

A butler in a perfectly ironed uniform hectically ran towards the sitting room of the giant mansion he worked in, a newspaper in his hand.

"What?!", a shrill voice answered from the big chair in the sitting room.

Deku put down his cup of fine china annoyedly. Everyone always annoyed him, everyone wanted things from him when he just wanted to relax. The money came by itself because of all the hard work he put into his father's business. Why couldn't a man enjoy his well-deserved downtime in peace?

"Lord Deku-sama, have you read the newspaper today?", the butler panted and stopped next to the big chair.

"Please you moron, give me some space. You're panting into my ear", Deku huffed and shooed the butler a little further away.

"I'm awfully sorry, my Lord."

"And no, as you can see, I haven't read the newspaper. I'm currently enjoying a cup of Mary Geoisian tea. Do I need to ask father to spare you some money for new glasses?"

Some people might call Deku spiteful and mean, but he found this description rather ill-fitting. He was a man of power and wealth, and people with that status needed to keep other people in their place. Therefore, he wasn't mean, he was acting accordingly.

The butler didn't mind his behaviour anymore. He found that it was better not to let it get to his head.

"Please have a look at this, my Lord."

He handed Deku the newspaper, and he snatched it from the butler's hands.

"What is that supposed to mean, you imbecile? That's an advertisement for a horse, I don't need a new horse. I love Peter!", he shrieked, redness creeping up his neck under his collar.

"The one below, my Lord", the butler said gently. He didn't need Deku throwing a fit.

Congratulations to your engagement Lord Deku & Lady (y/n): Get togetHER in 1 week. N9°27'20'' O°44 31'14''. Participation fee: 15.000.000 B.

The redness spread to Deku's face.

"What?! Who ordered this? There is no engagement party! I didn't plan any party because there is no engagement or wedding because there is no fiancée!", he shouted, nearly choking on his own saliva.

He inspected the advertisement and laughed presumptuously.

"This person must have been exceptionally stupid. You can't just capitalise random letters in a word. Also, who in their right mind would set a participation fee for a party!"

He thought hard for a few seconds, scratching his chin.

"Well... it would keep out the peasants..."

"Lord Deku-sama, if I could propose an idea?", the butler said carefully.

Deku let the newspaper flop down on his lap, looking at the butler confusedly.

"What? Hush hush, find out who put this advertisement up! I bet it was Aunty Aira, she's so senile. She probably forgot that my fiancée ran off."

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but I think it's a hidden message", the butler whispered.

"A what now?!"

"A hidden message, my -"

Deku raised his hand quickly, and the butler flinched slightly. But Deku was too invested in the newspaper to notice it.

"I. Can. Hear. You. Good heavens, speak. What kind of hidden message?"

"I... I think it might be a ransom note."

Deku blinked.

Looked at the newspaper again.

Blinked.

Looked at the butler.

"What?!" He shot up from the chair.

"Ransom as in my vir-, I mean very beautiful and wonderful fiancée was abducted?!", he shrieked and gasped audibly.

"I'm afraid so...", the butler whispered as a response.

Deku pranced around the chair, nearly gnawing on his fingernails. A thousand thoughts bothered him. What if (y/n) had fallen into the hands of someone who made her impure? The sheer horror!

He wielded the newspaper in front of the butler's face.

"Well then tell me what it means!", he demanded impatiently.

"The first sentence is showing that they in fact have taken Lady (y/n) hostage and that they want your lordship to get her. That's why the her in together is capitalised. It says, "get her". Time and place are clear and with the invitation fee they probably mean the ransom money."

"So they demand 15 million belly, in one week, at this location?"

"Precisely, my Lord. In six days actually, the newspaper is from yesterday", the butler nodded.

"Well?"

The butler looked at his master confusedly.

"Well?!", Deku shouted, trying to stay calm despite his - in his eyes - stupid and dependant butler, "why are you still here! Call father this instant, we need to have a ship at the ready in one hour!"

"Of course, my Lord, awfully sorry, my Lord! Right away!"

The butler picked up the newspaper and scrambled out of the room. Deku sat down and took another sip of his expensive tea. What an eventful day it had been for him.

[monroe-militia]

If you haven't done it already : send me a ship and i’ll tell you for Charloe. Please? :D

Thanks for the ask!

who hogs the duvet - They both do it, but they both deny it and insist it’s the other one hogging it, which results in a lot of late night tug of war sessions.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going - Bass is a needy bitch, so totally him. He checks on Charlie throughout the day, while trying to play it off as totally casual and, oh, he’s just calling or texting because he has something else important to ask her about that can’t wait. But then really he just wants to check in with her again and starts chatting her up.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts - I’m going to go with Bass, but I’m thinking not necessarily in a good way. He gives her creative gifts he thinks are going to be great and hilarious. She opens them and has to get him to explain what they are.

who gets up first in the morning - Bass gets up at like five in the fucking morning to go to the gym when he isn’t hungover. Usually he makes it back and through the shower before Charlie even wakes up. When he is hungover, Charlie gets up first.

who suggests new things in bed - Bass suggests them in a smug joking way during the day and then is surprised when Charlie brings them up again that night in bed and is willing to try them out.

who cries at movies - They both do. Bass tries to hide it. Charlie doesn’t.

who gives unprompted massages - Bass, but more in a coach giving an athlete a shoulder rub kind of way than an overly romantic or sexual way. When Charlie’s venting he starts giving her shoulder rubs and pep talks, like suddenly he thinks he’s her personal life coach who knows the answer to everything. Usually she likes it. Sometimes it gets on her nerves.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick - Charlie fusses over Bass because he takes too much cough syrup every damn time and gets a little high and so she looks after him while she finds it a little annoying, but also pretty cute.

who gets jealous easiest - Bass for sure. Charlie gets jealous occasionally, but denies it so much that Bass starts to wonder if he was imagining it.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music - Charlie likes a broader range of music, so Bass and Miles tease her about her embarrassing taste.

who collects something unusual - Charlie collects a lot of unusual things and Bass learned that it’s best not to comment on it a long time ago. It’s much easier to be like “Oh, you’re collecting rocks now?” than to be like “Why the hell are you collecting a bunch of rocks now?”

who takes the longest to get ready - Charlie takes longer to get ready, but somehow Bass still manages to make them late because he sits around waiting for her the whole time and then when she is ready he’s like hold on, I’ve still got one more thing I’ve got to do.

who is the most tidy and organised - Bass is the one tidying and organizing the place and Charlie is not a fan of Bass moving her stuff somewhere else where it will be ‘easier to find it’.

who gets most excited about the holidays - Charlie goes overboard and a half with the holidays and Bass struggles to keep up with her.

who is the big spoon/little spoon - Bass is the big spoon and Charlie is the little spoon usually, but sometimes when Charlie wants something out of Bass and he’s lying down, she’ll go lie behind him to be the big spoon while she tries to sweet talk him into getting her way.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports - They’re both competitive wrecks and it’s a miracle they haven’t broken up yet over some ridiculous fight over a game that got blown way out of proportion. Their competitiveness works out great for them when they’re on a team, but when they’re competing against each other things get a little vicious a little fast. Usually, whoever’s winning manages to be a little less horrible than the bitter one that’s losing.

who starts the most arguments - This question is the cause of many arguments (and adds fuel to ones already in progress) because they both think the other one starts every argument. In reality, most of the time Charlie tries to bait him when she’s annoyed, but Bass is the one who takes the bait and starts the arguments.

who suggests that they buy a pet - Charlie suggests it a lot. Bass isn’t sure he wants one, but Charlie just keeps bringing it up and bringing it up with that Matheson stubbornness of hers. He knows it’s just a matter of time until she wins the argument, so he isn’t even really surprised when he comes home to find Charlie trying to hide the fact that the new puppy she got while he was gone has totally already peed on and chewed up half of his belongings. She tries to make up for getting a dog without even telling him, let alone letting him help pick one out, by letting him name it. He’s a little bitter that he likes the dog she picked, even if it does create a little mayhem, and that her letting him name the dog totally worked at making him not mad.

what couple traditions they have - They don’t have a weekly date night. They have weekly, go over to Miles’ place and live on his couch for the evening, drinking and watching tv night.

what tv shows they watch together - I feel like they would watch Game of Thrones. Charlie would like the show and watch all of the episodes and follow the plotline, but Bass would know like everything about the world and be able to tell you where each place is relative to all the other places and he would remember every character’s name, even though he insists that she is wrong and he is not a total nerd over the show. Also, Bass probably makes her watch a lot of History Channel stuff.

what other couple they hang out with - Miles and whoever his girlfriend is at the time, which at this point means Charlie continually ‘coincidentally’ inviting Nora to things Bass has already invited Miles to because clearly Miles and Nora both want to get back together, but they’re just too stubborn to admit it and talk through their problems and Bass can’t listen to Miles complaining about the idea of Nora seeing other people while refusing to go after her for much longer.

how they spend time together as a couple - Sometimes they spend time at home, sometimes Charlie drags Bass off on some big day long adventure that inevitably gets them at least a little lost, sometimes they go hang out with Miles, sometimes Bass talks Charlie into getting out of bed early in the morning to go to the gym or for a run with him.

who made the first move - Bass got flirtier with her than he should have, pretending like it was a joke because he thought she would never go for it. Then when he took it a little too far and realized he actually had something for her and was dangerously teetering on the line of what was okay and what wasn’t, he backtracked a little and stopped flirting and started attempting to avoid her a little, until Charlie finally made the first move.

who brings flowers home - Charlie, but she doesn’t buy them and it’s mostly because she thinks they’re pretty. When Charlie sees flowers, she picks handfuls and brings them home. Bass teases her about it at first, but then she starts coming home and giving them to him as a gift and he stops mocking her for it.

who is the best cook - Bass for sure. He’s not an excellent cook or anything, but his food is decent. Charlie knows how to make some things without setting the smoke detector off, but she isn’t exactly the greatest cook.