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#i seriously had so much fun writing this!!
snowballseal · 2 days
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Hi! I really adore your writing. You have really caught each guys essences.
If your requests are open, I was thinking of something like how each guy would carry you and in what type of scenario. I thought Zayne would do bridal style and Sylus over the shoulder, but if you see it differently, feel free to do it as you see fit 😊
How they carry you (LaDS)
Note: This was such a cute request!! I had fun writing it, though I definitely rewrote Rafayel's like three times cause I couldn't make up my mind on the scenario. I went with a different idea for Zayne, but I think you'll like it ;)
I really hope you enjoy this! And I hope I wrote them all well. Thank you for the request.
Also, I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I apologize for any mistakes/inconsistencies.
---
Sylus *over the shoulder*
“My feet hurt,” you grumble.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such cheap shoes,” Sylus hums, voice bordering on between teasing and mocking.
You shoot the man a glare. He gives you a smug smile in return, arms crossing over his chest.
Of course he’s right. But you can’t admit that, not after you made such a fuss about ignoring his warning before the night began. You had been stubborn, maybe a little too stubborn. The restaurant you were going to was just so nice, how could you not wear heels? You wanted to look nice for your date, and they paired so well with your dark cocktail dress. Of course you’d forgotten about how much they hate your feet.
Every step feels like a bunch of nails digging into your feet. Why did you park so far away? Oh right, because you thought the night was so nice, you wanted to take a little walk before dinner…Not your best idea in retrospect.
Another step makes you wince.
Sylus suddenly stops. This forces you to pause as well, your arm curled around his elbow as you walk. You glance at him questioningly, trying to hide the pain, not wanting to bother him further by complaining. Or endure more of his teasing.
But his gaze burns over you intensely. You shift a little, heat climbing up your cheeks, but putting your weight on your other foot only makes that prickling pain shoot up your leg, and you can’t stop your lips from twisting into a light grimace.
For a brief moment, Sylus’ face softens. He lets out a sigh before removing his jacket. Your brow furrows as he slips it around your waist, the warmth of the fabric covering your bare legs.
“Sylus?”
“I’m not so cruel as to make a woman suffer, kitten,” he hums, securing the coat by tying the sleeves. He then leans up to your face, lips quirking up into a smirk. “Especially when she got all dolled up and pretty just for me.”
Before you can blush even darker, you’re suddenly being thrown over his broad shoulder. You let out an undignified squeak, instinctively squirming to try and get out of his grip. You kick your legs, hands scrambling against his back.
“Sylus!”
“Careful, kitten, otherwise I might drop you,” Sylus warns, voice dancing with amusement. His hand slips below the hem of his jacket to curl over the back of your thighs, locking them to his chest. You freeze, heart fluttering wildly. 
What a brute.
Though, there’s really nothing you can do to escape this man. Not that you really want to.
“Sylus, seriously, this isn’t funny,” you still whine, trying to keep face.
“Would you rather walk barefoot?”
Your nose scrunches at the thought. While you are in a nicer part of the city, it still sounds gross. You guess this is the lesser of two evils. Letting out a defeated sigh, you prop your elbows against his back to try to get comfortable. Also trying to ignore how defined his muscles feel against you.
Sylus hums approvingly, “There you go, kitten. Just relax.” 
His hand tenderly squeezes your thigh and you’re actually thankful he can’t see just how red your face is. Probably as red as the wine you had with dinner.
It’s definitely embarrassing. Especially when you pass by a few people, catching their odd stares. But it’s hard to care when Sylus starts massaging your legs, his touch overwhelmingly gentle in contrast to his previous actions. His thumb presses firm circles into your ankle, drawing a breathy sigh from you.
“Feel better, sweetie?” He murmurs, and you can feel his voice rumble through your body.
“Definitely helps,” you breathe, “Though you could have just carried me in a more comfortable way, Sy.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t fun for me,” you grumble petulantly.
Sylus shifts, suddenly putting you down. You blink in surprise when you find yourself sitting on the hood of a familiar car, your lover leaning over you. His fingers trace your leg, grazing up your arm, until he can cup your cheek, bringing your faces so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.
“And how can I make it up to you, my dear?” He purrs lowly, lips grazing yours teasingly.
“Well-” Letting out a shaky breath, you reach up and slip your arms around his neck. A blush still coats your cheeks, but you give him your best innocent look, pouting your lips as you mess with the silver strands at the nape of his neck. “I think a full massage at home might make up for the discomfort. The last one you gave me was pretty nice.”
Sylus quirks a brow in amusement, “Is that all?”
“Nope. I also want you to watch a sappy romcom with me. Then I’ll forgive your brutish ways.”
That breaks the intense air between you. Sylus chuckles, the sound deep and fond, making you smile. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
“I accept your terms, kitten.”
“Good. Now chop chop, mister! Let’s get home!”
---
Zayne *koala style*
“Darling.”
Your eyes flicker open, eyelids heavy. Letting out a sleepy hum, you drag your blurry gaze to meet a pair of warm, hazel eyes. Zayne kneels beside the car, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek to keep you from falling back asleep. You lean into his touch with a content sound, making him smile.
“We’ve arrived home,” he murmurs, voice quiet, “Would you like me to carry you inside?”
You nod, head still fuzzy with sleep. All you can really focus on is that you don’t want his touch to go away. It feels so nice.
“Alright. Can you wrap your arms around my neck for me, darling?”
You reach out blearily, your fingers blindly finding their way into the soft strands of hair at his nape. Zayne carefully turns you until your legs dangle out of the car, giving him a better angle to slip an arm under you. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, drawing you flush against his chest.
You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, letting out another happy hum as he readjusts you so you can tuck your face into his neck. One of his hands stays secured under you, the other sliding up to hold the back of your neck tenderly.
It’s almost impossible to not fall back asleep like this. Surrounded by his warmth, his fingers massaging your neck so lovingly, the gentle sway of his body as he walks. Your eyes flicker closed again as you nuzzle deeper into your lover.
You love when Zayne holds you like this. Not that bridal style isn’t nice, but this is just so much closer, so much easier for you to wrap yourself around him. Plus you like the feeling of his fingers gripping your thighs, reminding you of just how strong the doctor is. It just makes you feel…safe.
“Wish you’d carry me like this more,” you mumble thoughtlessly into his neck.
“Is that so?” Zayne hums, a small smile curling his lips.
“Mhm.” 
You press a sluggish kiss to his collarbone to show just how much you like it. Zayne’s steps falter imperceptibly. But you notice, a bubbly giggle escaping you.
“Don’t trip, Doctor Zayne,” you tease sleepily.
He pinches your thigh in warning. “Perhaps a certain hunter shouldn’t be so distracting.”
You squeak, pulling yourself further up by his shoulders. Zayne chuckles, palm smoothing over the spot, though he didn’t actually pinch you that hard. Still. You draw back a little to pout at him.
“So mean, Doctor Zayne. What if I bruise?”
“My apologies, darling,” he murmurs, not at all apologetic. You hold your pout, only weakening when he tilts his face up to brush your noses together. “I’ll be sure to treat it once we get inside. A kiss should do, hm?”
God, he’s so perfect. You’re not sure your heart can take it. The warmth behind his eyes, the small, rare show of affection. It leaves a lingering heat under your skin that turns your cheeks rosy pink, and you duck your face back into his shoulder to hide your blush.
“So, so mean,” you grumble.
A fond smile graces Zayne’s lips. If he’s being honest, he likes carrying you like this. He likes how you feel in his arms, your weight, your warmth, the rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s not often you let him take care of you without complaint, so he takes full advantage of when you do. It helps calm whatever deep-seated need he has to look after you.
The fact that you’re so easy to fluster is a mere bonus.
You settle back into a comfortable silence, barely paying attention as Zayne navigates through your apartment complex. You only notice when he shifts his arm further under you so he can fish his keys from his back pocket and unlock your shared apartment.
He doesn’t bother to turn on any lights as he carries you through your home, straight to your room. You grumble as he bends down to set you on the edge of the bed, your fingers tightening around his neck when he starts to draw back.
“Don’t go,” you plead softly.
“Wouldn’t you rather be in more comfortable clothes, sweetheart?”
“‘m already comfy,” you assure him, leaning against his chest, “Just take your pants off and cuddle with me.”
“What a bold patient I have,” he teases, though his voice dips into a low timber that makes you shiver.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, doctor,” you whisper, a little bashful, cheeks going warm again. “Just don’t want you to stop holding me.”
Zayne softens. His fingers trace along your heated cheek, drawing you back just enough so he can lean down and capture your lips in a lingering kiss. You press into him immediately, a delighted sigh passing your lips when he settles onto the bed beside you. When the kiss ends, you tuck yourself back into his side, content once again now that you get your way. A drawn-out yawn escapes you, and Zayne curls his arms around your waist, guiding you so your head can rest against his chest.
“Sleep now, I won’t go anywhere,” he promises softly into your hair.
“Mmm, love you, Zayne.”
“I love you too, my snowflake.
---
Rafayel *bridal style*
“Oh, “ you chirp, cool air washing over you as you step out of the venue, “it’s raining.”
The two of you were attending the opening night of Rafayel’s new exhibit. You’re surprised you didn’t even hear the rain, considering the streets look about flooded already. Puddles collect along the sidewalk, a small river running along the edge of the road. Paired with the rapidly setting sun, it leaves a chill in the air that makes you shiver slightly.
“I like it,” Rafayel hums and drapes an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You glance at him, biting back a smile when he playfully avoids your gaze, as if trying to keep your warm might hurt his “cool” factor. “The smell of the ocean is stronger when it rains, don’t you think? And the puddles look like tide pools.”
“They certainly do,” you giggle, “though neither of us are really prepared for the rain. Should we call a cab? I’d hate to ruin these shoes since you just got them for me.”
You look down at the kitten heels you’d worn for the event. They’re so cute, a soft baby blue color, decorated with little pearls. You remember pointing them out to Rafayel on one of your walks down the pier. They were just so pretty, and reminded you so much of him in a way, but the price was out of your range. Not that it deterred Rafayel, of course, who secretly went back the next day to get them for you.
A pair of shoes really shouldn’t mean that much to you, but every gift from Rafayel feels special. You can’t bear the thought of messing them up.
“Hmm, I think I have an easy solution.”
You let out a squeak when Rafayel suddenly ducks and sweeps you up into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life at the sudden loss of balance. The sound of Rafayel’s laughter rings in the air, light and full of mirth, as he dashes into the rain with you.
“Rafayel!” You squawk and break into your own fit of laughter despite the icy cold rain immediately drenching your clothes. “Rafayel! Put me down!!”
“I’m already carrying you, putting you down would just be more work,” he teases, that infuriatingly charming smile pulling at his lips. “Now you don’t have to worry about the puddles, at least.”
“But we’re still getting soaked!” You squeal, trying to hide away from the rain by tucking your face into his neck. “Why didn’t we just call a cab?”
“A little rain won’t hurt us, yeah?”
“Says the merman. It’s freezing.”
Rafayel chuckles, the sound close to your ear. Warmth blooms across your cheeks when he presses a kiss to your temple, the touch lingering and soft with adoration, making everything slow down for just a moment.
“Then hold me tight.” he whispers, voice dipping to a low rumble that has your heart racing, “Take my warmth. It’s yours, my beloved bride.”
Any remaining complaints get lost somewhere in your throat. The heat under your skin rivals the cold. A dark blush coats your cheeks, and you try to bury yourself against his chest. You can’t hide from him though, your neck just as rosy, and you can practically feel Rafayel beaming with pride.
Stupid fish.
But he is warm.
You let out a wavering sigh, pressing the cold tip of your nose into the warm crook of his neck. Rafayel shivers, but his hold around you only tightens, as if he wants to envelop you in the heat of his body. It’s almost like being held by one of those heat up stuffies. It’s so comfortable, you can’t help but melt into him, fondness for the merman curling deep inside your bones.
“Do you always run this warm?” You murmur and rest your cheek against his shoulder so you can look at his face.
“Not always,” he hums. A stray drop of rain drips down his jaw and you reach to brush it away. Rafayel’s voice shakes almost imperceptibly at the touch, the tips of his ears going red, “For the most part, Lumerians endure harsh, cold temperatures, so we actually run colder than you humans.”
“Then why are you so warm?” You ask curiously.
His blush only spreads, until his cheeks match yours. The artist glances away, almost looking embarrassed to admit, “My fire evol is useful for more than just fighting wanderers, you know.”
Ah. So he can warm himself up with his evol. And he’s doing it to keep you warm.
The revelation fills your chest with a giddy kind of love. Like, a fuzzy, dizzy kind of love. You bite back the urge to keep teasing him, to see just how red he can get. God, how can you love this man so much? Every new thing you learn about him, every surprise he somehow pulls out of his sleeve, leaves you slipping further into the ocean of affection you’re already drowning in. The rain is nothing in comparison.
“I guess you’re my knight in shining armor, then,” you sigh wistfully, “Against the wanderers and the cold weather.”
“That’s right.” Rafayel puffs out his chest a little, almost like a preening bird. A giggle escapes your lips, and he gives you one of those heart-stopping smiles. “You should really thank your knight in shining armor, cutie. Otherwise I might not feel so inclined to swoop in to save you next time.”
“Well, thank you, Rafayel.” In the blink of an eye, you reach up and draw his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a chaste, yet searing kiss. The artist jumps back, eyes wide as he stares down at your mischievous grin. “Even though we could have just taken a cab and avoided all of this.”
His shock quickly turns into a pout.
“You’re no fun, cutie.”
---
Xavier *piggyback style*
“Really, I’m fine, Xav-”
You wince as Xavier gently flexes your foot, hot pain prickling up your leg. The hunter gives you a rather disapproving look.
“You do not have to lie to me,” he sighs and lowers your foot back down, “I will not think less of you for being injured.”
Heat creeps up your neck, and you have to tear your eyes away from his soft, unassuming gaze. It really wasn’t that bad. While fighting a wanderer, you had dodged an attack too quickly, somehow, twisting your ankle in the process. You couldn’t just stop fighting though, so you had grit your teeth through the pain until you finished the wanderer off, and then collapsed on a nearby rock. That’s when Xavier had rushed over to you, asking what was wrong.
You attribute your embarrassment to the stubborn bit of pride you carry as a hunter, so used to taking care of yourself that you don’t often let others do it for you.
“I’m really okay, it’s probably just a sprain,” you grumble, “I’ll ice it when I get home.”
“And how exactly do you plan to get home?”
Your nose crinkles. Right. Glancing back at Xavier, you find him looking at you with a small, rather amused smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. The little punk. He really can be mischievous when he wants to, huh?
But you do not have an answer to his question. So you just shrug, letting out a heavy sigh. You’ll just have to rely on him this time it seems.
“Would you like me to carry you?”
Immediately, your blush spreads up your neck, painting your cheeks rosy and warm. Eyes wide, you look at him incredulously.
“Xavier, that’s- I don’t- What?”
“I can carry you.” The hunter tilts his head, much like an adorable puppy. Your heart flutters at the sight. How are you supposed to resist that?
“I mean,” you hesitate, scratching the back of your neck, “if you think that’s the best solution…”
“It’s the simplest one,” Xavier hums, quickly standing up, pulling you carefully to your feet as well.
He turns around, ducking a little so you can get on his back. You hesitate again, though.
“Are you sure?” You ask, voice wavering.
“Positive.” Xavier looks at you over his shoulder. That gentle smile curls his lips again. “Who wouldn’t want to carry a pretty girl on their back?”
God, you hate him sometimes. Shaking your head, you gingerly step closer. You curl your arms tentatively around his shoulders, careful to avoid his neck so you don’t choke him. Then you jump. Xavier catches you with ease, fingers slipping under your thighs to hold you as he stands up straight again. It only takes a moment for him to find his balance as you get comfortable, your chin tucked over his shoulder.
He hardly seems affected by your weight. Like he’s carrying a light backpack. It eases your consciousness a little.
“I always forget just how strong you are,” you mumble.
Xavier holds back a shiver at the way your breath warms his ear. His fingers tighten around your thighs though, thumbs massaging circles into your skin. You hum softly, facing tucking into the collar of his uniform. This is nicer than you thought it’d be.
“You could take a nap until we reach our destination if you’d like.”
“No,” you sigh, though you do feel suddenly exhausted, “That wouldn’t be fair. I want to keep you company.”
“Mm, okay. Then what should we talk about?” Xavier peeks at you, amusement curling in his chest at the thoughtful pout you give.
“How about…what we’ll get for dinner tonight? We did complete the mission, afterall, we deserve a treat.”
A low chuckle escapes the hunter. Tilting his head, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“Whatever you’d like, my star,” he hums, fondness warming his usually calm voice, “Is there something you have in mind?”
“That new diner opened down the block from us, we could try that!” You suggest, excitement lighting up your features, like a kid in front of a christmas tree. You look at him, smile brighter than any star he could compare you to. “What do you think?”
How could he ever resist you?
“Mmm, sounds delicious.”
“Perfect! We’ll go there then!”
You spend the rest of the walk back to the transit station talking about what dishes you might order, what movie to watch as you eat. Anything and everything. Neither of you notice the odd looks you get, too comfortable to care.
You all but forget about the pain in your ankle. Why focus on that when you can focus on the absolutely charming man willing to carry you all this way?
---
Can you tell which characters I main based on this? Just curious.
664 notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 12 hours
Text
Hall Pass
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Carlos Sainz x ex!Reader
Summary: Carlos’ desire to fantasize about other women leads you straight into his teammate’s arms (or in which your boyfriend chooses a famous actress as his hall pass while you decide on someone much closer to home)
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The hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. You sit on the edge of the king-sized bed, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the duvet cover. Across the room, Carlos leans against the ornate writing desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face.
“Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and measured. “We need to talk.”
You look up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What’s on your mind?”
He shifts his weight, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking ... about us. About our relationship.”
Your heart skips a beat, a knot forming in your stomach. “Oh? And what have you been thinking?”
Carlos takes a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on you. “I love you, Y/N. I do. But ... I can’t help feeling like we’re stuck in a rut.”
You furrow your brow, confusion and hurt mingling in your chest. “A rut? What do you mean?”
“It’s just ...” He pauses, searching for the right words. “We’ve been together for so long, and it’s been great. But don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”
You stand up, taking a step towards him. “Carlos, are you saying you want to break up?”
He holds up his hands, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just ... I had an idea.”
“An idea?” You repeat, your voice laced with skepticism.
Carlos nods, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. “What if we each got a hall pass?”
You blink, taken aback. “A hall pass? Like ... permission to sleep with someone else?”
“Exactly,” he says, snapping his fingers. “But not just anyone. We each choose one person, and if we ever happen to meet them and the opportunity arises, we’re allowed to go for it. No hard feelings, no guilt.”
You stare at him, trying to process his words. “Let me get this straight. You want us to choose people we can cheat on each other with, guilt-free?”
Carlos winces at your phrasing. “It’s not cheating if we both agree to it. Think of it as ... spicing things up. Adding a little excitement to our relationship.”
You cross your arms, mirroring his earlier stance. “And you think this will solve our supposed ‘rut’?”
He shrugs, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “It could be fun. Just imagine the thrill of knowing we both have this secret possibility out there.”
You shake your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “I can’t believe you’re seriously suggesting this.”
“Come on, mi amor,” Carlos coaxes, taking a step towards you. “It’s not like anything will actually happen. We’ll probably never even meet the people we choose.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Then what’s the point?”
“The point is the fantasy, the excitement,” he explains, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like ... buying a lottery ticket. You know you probably won’t win, but the possibility is thrilling.”
You chew on your lower lip, considering his words. Part of you wants to shut down this ridiculous idea immediately, but another part is intrigued by the challenge. “And you really think this will help our relationship?”
Carlos nods eagerly. “I do. It’ll add a spark, keep things interesting.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
“So ... is that a yes?” Carlos asks, hope evident in his voice.
After a long moment, you nod slowly. “Fine. But we set some ground rules first.”
Carlos grins, clapping his hands together. “Of course! Whatever you want.”
You hold up a finger. “Rule number one: we tell each other who we choose. No secrets.”
“Agreed,” Carlos says quickly.
“Rule number two: if anything ever does happen, we tell each other immediately.”
Carlos nods. “Absolutely. Honesty is key.”
You take a deep breath. “Okay. So ... who’s your choice?”
Carlos’ grin widens. “Margot Robbie.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Margot Robbie?”
He shrugs, looking pleased with himself. “What? She’s gorgeous, talented, and there’s practically zero chance I’ll ever meet her, let alone have the opportunity to sleep with her.”
You shake your head, amused despite yourself. “Well, at least you’re being realistic about your chances.”
Carlos chuckles. “Exactly. It’s the perfect choice. Exciting, but safe.” He leans forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What about you? Who’s your hall pass going to be?”
You pause, pretending to consider your options carefully. In truth, you’ve already made your decision, a plan forming in your mind. “Well,” you say slowly, “I think I’ll choose ... Charles.”
Carlos’ brow furrows in confusion. “Charles? What Charles?”
You allow a small smirk to play across your lips. “Charles Leclerc.”
The color drains from Carlos’ face as realization dawns. “Charles ... Leclerc? My teammate, Charles Leclerc?”
You nod, feigning innocence. “That’s the one.”
Carlos sputters, his earlier confidence evaporating. “But-but you can’t choose him!”
“Why not?” You ask, your voice sweet. “He fits all the criteria. He’s attractive, talented, and exciting.”
“But he’s my teammate!” Carlos exclaims, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “You see him all the time!”
You shrug, echoing his earlier nonchalance. “So? You’re the one who wanted to add some excitement to our relationship.”
Carlos paces back and forth, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by panic. “This isn’t what I meant! I chose someone I’ll never meet. You chose someone you could literally bump into tomorrow!”
“Carlos,” you say, your voice taking on a patronizing tone, “are you saying you don’t trust me?”
He stops pacing, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Of course I trust you. It’s just ... it’s Charles!”
You take a step towards him, your expression hardening. “Let me ask you something. Did you really think this through when you suggested it? Or were you just hoping for a free pass to fantasize about other women without feeling guilty?”
Carlos opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find a response. “I ... that’s not ... I didn’t mean ...”
You cut him off, your voice sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. You’d get to keep me while indulging in your little fantasies about Margot Robbie or whoever else catches your eye.”
“Mi amor, please,” Carlos pleads, reaching for your hand. “That’s not what this was about at all.”
You pull away from his grasp, shaking your head. “No? Then what was it about? Because it sure as hell wasn’t about improving our relationship.”
He runs his hands over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body. “I just ... I thought it would be fun. A little harmless fantasy to spice things up.”
“Well, congratulations,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve certainly spiced things up now.”
Carlos looks at you, desperation in his eyes. “Can we just ... can we forget this whole thing? Pretend I never suggested it?”
You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Oh no, Carlos. You don’t get to backtrack now. You wanted a hall pass? You’ve got one.”
“Please,” he begs, reaching for you again. “I was being stupid. I don’t want this.”
You step back, avoiding his touch. “Too late. What was it you said? No hard feelings, no guilt?”
Carlos’ face crumples. “I didn’t think ... I never imagined you’d choose someone like Charles.”
“Maybe you should have,” you snap. “Maybe you should have considered how I’d feel about you wanting permission to sleep with other women.”
He hangs his head, shame written across his features. “I’m sorry. I really am. Can we please just talk about this?”
You shake your head, moving towards the door of the suite. “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”
Carlos’ head snaps up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
You grab your purse from the nearby chair, slinging it over your shoulder. “Out. I need some air.”
“Y/N, wait!” Carlos calls, his voice rising in desperation. “You can’t ... you’re not going to ...”
You turn back to face him, your hand on the doorknob. “Going to what, Carlos? Use my hall pass? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He shakes his head vehemently. “No! I mean, yes, but not like this. Not with Charles!”
“Why not?” You challenge. “He’s attractive, available, and conveniently located just down the hall. Isn’t that exciting?”
Carlos’ face contorts with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t. You’re just trying to teach me a lesson.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Am I? Are you willing to bet on that?”
He takes a step towards you, his voice pleading. “Mi amor, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”
You open the door, pausing in the threshold. “You know, Carlos, you were right about one thing. This definitely isn’t boring anymore.”
As you step into the hallway, you hear Carlos’ voice rising behind you. “Y/N! Come back! We need to talk about this!”
You let the door swing shut behind you, cutting off his desperate pleas. As you walk down the corridor, your heels clicking against the polished floor, a small smile plays across your lips.
You have no intention of actually going to Charles’ room, of course. But Carlos doesn’t need to know that. Let him stew in his own jealousy and insecurity for a while. Maybe next time he’ll think twice before suggesting something so foolish.
As you reach the elevator, you can still hear Carlos’ muffled shouts echoing from your suite. You press the button for the lobby, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Part of you feels guilty for causing him such distress, but a larger part feels justified in your actions. He needed to understand the consequences of his thoughtless suggestion.
As the elevator doors slide closed, you let out a long breath. It’s going to be a long night, but perhaps this will be the wake-up call your relationship needed. Not in the way Carlos had intended, but in a way that forces you both to confront the real issues lurking beneath the surface.
The elevator begins its descent, carrying you away from the drama upstairs and towards an uncertain future. One thing’s for sure — your relationship will never be the same after tonight. Whether that’s for better or worse remains to be seen.
***
The hotel bar is a sanctuary of soft lighting and hushed conversations. You sit perched on a high stool, nursing a glass of red wine and trying to quiet the storm of emotions raging inside you. The bartender, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, keeps glancing your way, clearly sensing your distress but respectfully maintaining his distance.
You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure approaching until he speaks.
“Y/N? Is everything alright?”
You look up, startled, to find Charles Leclerc standing beside you, concern etched across his handsome features. For a moment, you’re struck by the irony of the situation.
“Charles,” you manage, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just ... needed some air.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. “At the bar? Must be some very alcoholic air.”
Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “Caught me. Mind if I buy you a drink to keep my secret?”
Charles slides onto the stool next to you, a warm smile playing across his lips. “Only if you let me buy the next round and tell me what’s really going on.”
You hesitate, swirling the wine in your glass. “It’s ... complicated.”
“I’ve got time,” Charles says softly, signaling the bartender. “And I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”
As the bartender sets a Moscow Mule in front of Charles, you take a deep breath. “Carlos and I had a fight.”
Charles nods, his expression neutral. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”
You laugh bitterly. “Oh, you’re going to love this. He suggested we each get a hall pass.”
Charles’ brow furrows in confusion. “A hall pass? Like in school?”
“No,” you explain, taking a sip of your wine. “A relationship hall pass. Permission to sleep with one chosen person if the opportunity ever arose.”
Charles’ eyes widen in surprise. “He suggested that? Really?”
You nod, feeling a fresh wave of anger wash over you. “He thought it would ‘spice things up’. Add some excitement to our relationship.”
“And how did you feel about that?” Charles asks carefully, studying your face.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly? I felt ... hurt. Betrayed. Like I wasn’t enough for him anymore.”
Charles reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his hand over yours. “Y/N, you’re more than enough. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
You look up, meeting his intense gaze. “Thank you. That ... means a lot.”
He squeezes your hand before pulling away, taking a sip of his drink. “So, what happened next?”
You feel a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I agreed.”
Charles nearly chokes on his drink. “You did?”
You nod, unable to suppress a small chuckle at his reaction. “I did. But not for the reasons Carlos wanted.”
“Oh?” Charles leans in, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Do tell.”
“Well,” you say, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “Carlos chose Margot Robbie as his hall pass.”
Charles snorts. “Of course he did.”
“Exactly,” you agree. “So when it was my turn to choose ... I picked you.”
For a moment, Charles is speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, “Me? You chose me?”
You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I did. You should have seen Carlos’ face. He was furious.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, looking both flattered and bewildered. “I ... wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him quickly. “I didn’t choose you because I actually intended to ... you know. I chose you to teach Carlos a lesson.”
Charles nods slowly, processing this information. “And did he learn his lesson?”
You shrug, finishing off your wine. “I don’t know. I left him screaming in our hotel room.”
“Y/N,” Charles says softly, his voice full of concern. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You deserve better.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Do I? Sometimes I wonder ...”
Charles reaches out again, this time cupping your cheek gently. “Listen to me. You are an incredible woman. You’re smart, funny, beautiful ... any man would be lucky to have you. And if Carlos can’t see that, if he’s willing to risk losing you over some stupid fantasy, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the wine. “Charles ...”
He leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “If you were with me, I would treat you like the queen you deserve to be. I would never even think about another woman, let alone ask for permission to be with one.”
Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Charles, I ... we can’t ...”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Why not? You have a hall pass, don’t you?”
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of emotions clouding your judgment. “That’s not ... I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Charles sighs, dropping his hand from your face. “I know. And I would never want to be the reason you and Carlos break up. But Y/N, you have to know ... I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You have?”
He nods, a rueful smile on his face. “How could I not? You’re amazing. But you were with Carlos, and I respected that. I still do. But seeing you hurt like this ... it kills me.”
You feel tears spilling down your cheeks now, unable to hold them back any longer. “I don’t know what to do. I love Carlos, but after tonight ... I don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”
Charles pulls you into a gentle hug, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “I just ... I feel so lost.”
He strokes your hair softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
You pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Always. But Y/N ... I want you to know that if you ever decide you want more than friendship, I’m here. I would never hurt you the way Carlos has.”
You feel a flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and fear. “Charles, I ...”
He shakes his head, placing a finger gently on your lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
You nod, suddenly very aware of how close you are, of the electricity crackling between you. “I should ... I should probably go.”
Charles nods, but makes no move to let you go. “Probably. But do you want to?”
You bite your lip, torn between desire and duty. “I ... I don’t know.”
He leans in, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispers, “Come up to my room. We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk or watch a movie. But I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
You shiver at his closeness, your resolve weakening. “Charles, I ... what if someone sees us?”
He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Let them see. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re allowed to have friends, to seek comfort when you’re hurting.”
You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. But looking into Charles’ eyes, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence, you find yourself nodding.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”
Charles stands, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you towards the elevators. As you walk, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you, but Charles’ steady presence beside you helps you keep your head high.
In the elevator, you stand close together, the air thick with unspoken tension. Charles’ thumb traces small circles on the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.
“Charles,” you say softly as the elevator begins to ascend. “I need you to know ... I’m not using you to get back at Carlos. Whatever happens tonight, it’s because I want it to.”
He turns to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek once more. “I know. And I want you to know that whatever happens or doesn’t happen, tonight doesn’t change anything. I’ll still be here for you tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you for the first time since your fight with Carlos. “Thank you.”
The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at Charles’ floor. He leads you down the hallway to his suite, fumbling slightly with the key card before pushing the door open.
As you step inside, you’re struck by how different it feels from the suite you share with Carlos. Where your room is cluttered with both of your belongings, evidence of your life together, Charles’ suite is neat and minimalist. It feels like a blank slate, a fresh start.
Charles closes the door behind you, leaning against it as he watches you take in the room. “So,” he says softly, “what now?”
You turn to face him, suddenly feeling nervous. “I ... I don’t know. This is all happening so fast.”
He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow. Why don’t we sit down, maybe order some room service? We can talk, or not talk. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
You feel a rush of affection for him, grateful for his patience and understanding. “That sounds nice.”
Charles moves to the phone, quickly ordering a selection of snacks and another bottle of wine. As he hangs up, he turns back to you with a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind, I ordered your favorite.”
You blink in surprise. “You know my favorite wine?”
He shrugs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I pay attention.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words. How many times had you had to remind Carlos of your preferences?
As you settle onto the plush sofa, Charles takes a seat beside you, close but not touching. “Y/N,” he says softly, “I want you to know that you’re in control here. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and desire. “I know. And I appreciate that, Charles. But ...”
He raises an eyebrow. “But?”
You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “But I think I want to kiss you.”
Charles’ eyes widen, a look of surprise and joy spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. For a moment, Charles is still, as if he can’t believe this is happening. Then, with a small groan, he responds, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.
As you lose yourself in the sensation of Charles’ lips on yours, his strong arms pulling you closer, you feel a sense of rightness settle over you. You know that there will be consequences to face tomorrow, difficult conversations to be had. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything else and simply feel.
When you finally pull apart, both breathing heavily, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Me too. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. “What happens now?”
You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “Now ... now we take things one step at a time. I can’t make any promises, Charles. I need to sort things out with Carlos, figure out what I really want.”
He nods, understanding and a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I know. And I’ll respect whatever decision you make. Just know that I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”
You lean in, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you. For everything.”
As you settle back into his arms, feeling safe and cared for in a way you haven’t in a long time, you know that whatever the future holds, this night has changed everything. And for the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.
***
The soft morning light filters through the curtains, a sliver landing directly on the warming skin of your face. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you realize you’re not in your own bed. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself nestled in Charles’ arms, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your cheek.
For a moment, panic flares in your chest as you try to piece together the events of the night before. But as memories flood back, you relax, remembering that while you and Charles shared kisses and conversation, nothing more intimate transpired.
Charles shifts beside you, his arms tightening slightly as he wakes. “Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
You tilt your head to look up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Good morning.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “How are you feeling?”
You take a moment to assess, surprised by the sense of calm that settles over you. “Better than I expected, actually.”
Charles nods, relief evident in his eyes. “I’m glad. I was worried you might regret ... well, everything.”
You shake your head, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze. “I don’t regret anything. Last night ... it made a lot of things clear for me.”
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity and hope warring in his expression. “Oh? What kind of things?”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. “I think ... I think I want to be with you. Not just for a hall pass, not just for one night. I want to see where this could go between us.”
Charles’ face lights up, joy radiating from every feature. But then, just as quickly, concern clouds his expression. “Y/N, as much as I want that — and believe me, I do — what about Carlos?”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I need to end things with him. Properly. What he did, suggesting that hall pass ... it was just a symptom of bigger problems in our relationship. I see that now.”
Charles nods slowly, sitting up beside you. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because of one fight.”
You turn to face him fully, taking his hands in yours. “I’m sure. Last night, talking with you, being with you ... it made me realize what I’ve been missing. The respect, the understanding, the way you actually listen to me. I want that. I want you.”
A smile spreads across Charles’ face, but there’s still a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But ... are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe you should take some time, think things through.”
You shake your head, determination setting in. “No, I need to do this now. If I wait, I’ll just be living a lie. Carlos deserves to know the truth, and I ... I want to start this — us — with a clean slate.”
Charles squeezes your hands gently. “Okay. If you’re sure. But I’m not letting you face Carlos alone.”
You blink in surprise. “What do you mean?”
He meets your gaze steadily. “I mean I’m coming with you when you break up with him. I know Carlos, and I know he’s not going to take this well. I want to be there to support you.”
“Charles,” you protest weakly, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s going to be messy enough without you there.”
He shakes his head firmly. “You’re not asking, I’m offering. More than that, I’m insisting. We’re in this together now. Let me be there for you.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by his support. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
Charles leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always. Now, why don’t we get cleaned up and face this together?”
An hour later, freshly showered and steeled for the confrontation ahead, you stand outside the door to your suite with Charles by your side. Your hand trembles slightly as you raise it to knock.
“Hey,” Charles says softly, catching your hand in his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you.”
You nod, taking a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the door. For a long moment, there’s silence. Then, just as you’re about to knock again, the door flies open.
Carlos stands there, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. His gaze flicks between you and Charles, confusion quickly morphing into anger.
“What the hell is this?” He demands, his voice rough.
You step forward, trying to keep your voice calm. “We need to talk.”
He laughs bitterly, throwing the door wider. “Oh, now you want to talk? After disappearing all night? Come on in, let’s have a nice chat.”
As you and Charles enter the suite, you can’t help but notice the state of disarray. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, and it’s clear Carlos hasn’t slept.
“Have a nice night?” Carlos spits, slamming the door behind you.
You flinch at the sound, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry for leaving like that. But we need to discuss what happened.”
He rounds on you, anger blazing in his eyes. “What’s there to discuss? You used your fucking hall pass, didn’t you? With him?” He jabs a finger at Charles, who remains calm but alert beside you.
“No, Carlos, I didn’t,” you say firmly. “Charles and I talked, that’s all.”
Carlos scoffs, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Oh, you expect me to believe that? You disappear all night, then show up with him in the morning, and I’m supposed to think nothing happened?”
Charles steps forward, his voice level. “She’s telling you the truth. Nothing happened between us last night.”
Carlos whirls on him, fury contorting his features. “Stay out of this, Leclerc. This is between me and my girlfriend.”
You feel anger bubbling up inside you at his possessive tone. “That’s just it. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”
The room goes deathly silent as your words hang in the air. Carlos stares at you, shock replacing anger for a moment before his face hardens again.
“What did you just say?” He growls.
You stand tall, drawing strength from Charles’ presence beside you. “I said I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”
For a moment, Carlos looks like you’ve physically struck him. Then, with a roar of rage, he sweeps his arm across the nearest surface, sending glasses and bottles crashing to the floor.
“You fucking bitch!” He shouts, advancing on you. “You sleep with my teammate and then have the audacity to break up with me?”
Charles steps between you and Carlos, his voice low and dangerous. “Back off. Now.”
Carlos sneers at him. “Oh, defending your new whore, are you? How noble.”
You push past Charles, anger overriding your fear. “That’s enough! I told you, I didn’t sleep with Charles. But even if I had, it would have been my right. You’re the one who suggested this stupid hall pass in the first place!”
Carlos laughs bitterly. “Oh, so this is my fault now? I suggest a little harmless fantasy to spice things up, and you use it as an excuse to cheat on me?”
“It wasn’t harmless!” You shout back. “It was hurtful and disrespectful. Did you ever stop to think how it would make me feel, knowing you wanted permission to sleep with other women?”
Carlos runs his hands through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “It wasn’t about that! It was just a game, a fantasy!”
You shake your head, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. “That’s the problem. Our relationship isn’t a game. It’s not something to be risked on a whim. And the fact that you don’t understand that ... it just proves we’re not right for each other anymore.”
Carlos’ anger seems to deflate, replaced by a desperate pleading. “Y/N, please. We can work this out. I’m sorry about the hall pass thing, okay? I was an idiot. But don’t throw away everything we have over one stupid mistake.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back. “It’s not just about the hall pass. It’s about everything. The way you take me for granted, the way you never really listen to me. I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who respects me, who values me.”
Carlos’ gaze flicks to Charles, understanding dawning in his eyes. “And you think he’s that someone? My teammate? My friend?”
Charles steps forward, his voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry it happened this way. I never wanted to hurt you. But Y/N is right — she deserves better. And I want to be the one to give her that.”
For a moment, you think Carlos might lunge at Charles. But then, to your surprise, he crumples, sinking onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
“How long?” He asks, his voice muffled.
You move closer, but stop short of touching him. “How long what?”
He looks up, his eyes red-rimmed. “How long have you two been ... feeling this way about each other?”
You exchange a glance with Charles before answering. “Honestly? I didn’t realize how I felt about Charles until last night. When he was there for me, really listening and supporting me ... it made me see what I’ve been missing.”
Carlos nods slowly, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And you, Charles? How long have you been in love with my girlfriend?”
Charles takes a deep breath, meeting Carlos’ gaze steadily. “A while. But Carlos, I swear to you, nothing ever happened between us until last night. And even then, we didn’t sleep together. I respect you too much for that.”
Carlos laughs humorlessly. “Respect me? You’re stealing my girlfriend and you talk about respect?”
You feel a flare of irritation at his words. “He’s not stealing me. I’m not a possession. I’m making my own choice.”
Carlos stands abruptly, moving to the window and staring out at the city below. For a long moment, silence reigns in the room. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, defeated.
“Get out. Both of you. I can’t ... I can’t look at either of you right now.”
You take a step towards him, your heart aching despite everything. “Carlos ...”
He whirls around, his eyes flashing. “I said get out! Take your things and go. I’ll have the rest sent to you.”
You nod slowly, knowing that pushing further will only make things worse. As you move around the room, gathering your essential belongings, you feel a profound sadness settling over you. This is the end of a significant chapter in your life, and despite your certainty that it’s the right decision, it still hurts.
Charles waits by the door, a silent, supportive presence. When you’ve finished packing a small bag, you join him, pausing at the threshold to look back at Carlos one last time.
“I’m sorry it ended this way,” you say softly. “I hope ... I hope someday you can forgive us.”
Carlos doesn’t respond, doesn’t even turn to look at you. With a heavy sigh, you step into the hallway, Charles close behind you.
As the door clicks shut, you lean against the wall, suddenly feeling drained. Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Are you okay?” He asks gently.
You nod against his chest, taking comfort in his warmth. “I will be. It’s just ... it’s a lot.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”
You look up at him, managing a small smile despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. “Together. I like the sound of that.”
***
The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the curtains of Charles’ hotel suite, casting a golden light across the room. You sit on the plush sofa, your legs tucked beneath you, a glass of Prosecco cradled in your hands. Across from you, Charles leans against the minibar, his own glass in hand, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you.
“What?” You ask, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks under his intense gaze.
Charles shakes his head, his smile widening. “Nothing. I just ... I can’t believe you’re really here. With me.”
You take a sip of your Prosecco, savoring the crisp, bubbly taste. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself. But I’m glad I am.”
Charles moves to join you on the sofa, settling in close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “How are you feeling? After everything that happened with Carlos ...”
You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “Honestly? I feel ... lighter. Like a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted.”
Charles nods, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad. But I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. If you need time, space ...”
You cut him off by placing your hand gently on his arm. “I appreciate that. But I’ve had years of space with Carlos. What I want now is to be here, with you.”
His eyes light up at your words, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls back, you can’t help but smile at the joy radiating from him.
��You know,” you say, taking another sip of your Prosecco, “I have to admit, I was surprised when you ordered this.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. “The Prosecco? Why?”
You shrug, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Carlos always insisted on ordering Spanish cava. He said it was better. I never had the heart to tell him I preferred Prosecco.”
Charles looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding. He never noticed?”
You shake your head. “Nope. I mean, I drank it, of course. But ... I don’t know. It just never seemed important enough to make a fuss over.”
Charles sets his glass down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. “Y/N, listen to me. Your preferences, your likes and dislikes — they’re important. They matter. You matter.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. That ... that means a lot.”
He reaches out, gently wiping away a tear that has escaped. “It’s the truth. And for the record, I’ve known you preferred Prosecco since that team dinner in Monza two years ago.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You remember that?”
Charles nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Of course. You lit up when they brought out the Prosecco. Your whole face changed. I’ve never seen someone so happy over a glass of bubbly.”
You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “I can’t believe you noticed that.”
“I notice everything about you,” Charles says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I always have.”
You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “Like what?”
Charles’ thumb traces gentle circles on your skin as he speaks. “Like how you always twist your hair around your finger when you’re deep in thought. Or how you bite your lip to hide your smile when you’re trying not to laugh at one of the guys’ bad jokes.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, touched by his attention to detail. “What else?”
He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I know you have a secret stash of gummy bears in your purse for long flights. And that you always hum Dancing Queen under your breath when you’re in a good mood.”
You gasp in mock horror. “Charles Leclerc, have you been spying on me?”
He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Not spying. Just ... paying attention. Is that okay?”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the tenderness in his gaze. “It’s more than okay. It’s ... it’s wonderful.”
Charles leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re wonderful. And you deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates every little thing about you.”
You close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless.
“Charles,” you murmur, “I think I’m falling for you.”
His face lights up with joy. “That’s good, because I’ve already fallen for you.”
You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Oh really? When did that happen?”
Charles pretends to think for a moment. “Hmm, probably around the time you yelled at that journalist for asking me stupid questions after my DNF in Canada.”
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, I forgot about that. I was so embarrassed afterwards.”
He gently pries your hands away, his eyes shining with admiration. “Don’t be. It was amazing. No one’s ever defended me like that before.”
You shrug, feeling a bit sheepish. “He was being an ass. You didn’t deserve that after the race you had.”
Charles pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “See? That’s what I mean. You care. Deeply and fiercely. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
You snuggle into his side, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. “You know, it’s funny. I always thought I was happy with Carlos. But being here with you ... it’s making me realize how much I was missing.”
Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Like what?”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, for one thing, this. Just sitting and talking, really talking. With Carlos, it always felt like we were just going through the motions, you know? Like we were playing the roles of the perfect couple without really connecting.”
Charles nods, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I get that. It’s easy to fall into patterns, to stop really seeing each other.”
“Exactly,” you agree. “And it’s not just the big things. It’s the little stuff too. Like ...” You pause, a memory suddenly surfacing. “Oh! Like the flowers.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. “Flowers?”
You sit up, turning to face him. “Yeah. Carlos always sent me these huge bouquets of red roses. Which, don’t get me wrong, were beautiful. But ...”
“But they’re not your favorite,” Charles finishes for you.
You blink in surprise. “How did you know that?”
He grins, looking a bit bashful. “Remember that charity gala in Milan last year? You spent at least ten minutes gushing over the centerpieces.”
You gasp, the memory flooding back. “The peonies! Oh my god, Charles, how do you remember these things?”
He shrugs, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “Like I said, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you.”
You feel your heart swell with affection. “Well, Mr. Attentive, what else have you noticed about me?”
Charles pretends to think hard, tapping his chin dramatically. “Let’s see ... I know you prefer your coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar. You always double-knot your shoelaces before a run. Oh, and you have a secret obsession with cheesy 80s power ballads.”
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. “Okay, now I know you’re making things up. There’s no way you could know about my power ballad addiction.”
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh really? So if I were to start singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, you wouldn’t immediately join in?”
Your jaw drops. “How ... how did you ...”
Charles grins triumphantly. “Team karaoke night in Singapore. You thought everyone was too drunk to remember, but I wasn’t as far gone as I let on.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
He gently pries your hands away, his expression soft and sincere. “Hey, no hiding. I loved it. You were so free, so happy. It was beautiful to watch.”
You feel tears prickling at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. “Charles ...”
He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that have escaped. “Y/N, I want you to know that I see you. All of you. The good, the bad, the silly, the serious. And I love every part of it.”
You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “I’m starting to see you too, Charles. And I ... I think I might be falling in love with what I see.”
His face lights up with joy, and he pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss. When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless and grinning.
“So,” Charles says, his voice low and husky, “what do you say we order some room service? I’m thinking ... chocolate lava cake for dessert?”
You gasp in delight. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”
He winks, reaching for the room service menu. “I told you, mon cœur. I pay attention.”
As Charles calls down to place the order, you lean back against the sofa, a contented smile playing on your lips. You can’t help but marvel at how different this feels from your relationship with Carlos. With Charles, you feel seen, heard, understood in a way you never have before.
When he hangs up the phone and rejoins you on the sofa, you curl into his side, feeling perfectly at home in his arms. As the night deepens around you, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen kisses, you know that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. With Charles, you’re not just being loved — you’re being cherished, appreciated for every little thing that makes you who you are.
And as you drift off to sleep in his arms later that night, the taste of chocolate and Prosecco still lingering on your lips, you can’t help but feel that you’ve finally found where you truly belong.
***
Carlos stands at the edge of the pit lane, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. You and Charles are huddled together by the Ferrari garage, laughing and talking animatedly. The sight sends a sharp pang through Carlos’ chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret swirling in his gut.
He watches as Charles leans in, whispering something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. Carlos grits his teeth, remembering a time when he was the one to make you laugh like that.
“They look happy, don’t they?” A voice says beside him.
Carlos turns to see Lando standing there, a sympathetic look on his face. “What do you want?” Carlos growls, not in the mood for conversation.
Lando holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just checking on you, mate. I know this can’t be easy to watch.”
Carlos scoffs, turning his attention back to you and Charles. “I’m fine. It’s not like I care what she does anymore.”
Even as he says the words, Carlos knows they’re a lie. He does care. He cares so much it feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside.
He watches as Charles pulls out a small package from his pocket, handing it to you with a flourish. Your eyes light up as you unwrap it, revealing what looks like a bag of candy.
“What’s that about?” Carlos mutters, more to himself than to Lando.
Lando squints, trying to get a better look. “Looks like ... gummy bears? Huh, I didn’t know Y/N liked those.”
Carlos feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She doesn’t,” he says automatically. But even as the words leave his mouth, he sees the way you’re beaming at Charles, popping a gummy bear into your mouth with evident delight.
“You sure about that?” Lando asks, raising an eyebrow.
Carlos doesn’t respond, his mind racing. How had he never known you liked gummy bears? Had you ever mentioned it? Had he ever bothered to ask?
He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laughter again. Charles is holding out his phone, showing you something on the screen. As you lean in to look, Charles’ arm slips around your waist, pulling you close.
Carlos feels his hands clench into fists at his sides. He wants to look away, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene.
“You know,” Lando says carefully, “maybe you should talk to them. Clear the air.”
Carlos shakes his head vehemently. “There’s nothing to talk about. She made her choice.”
Lando sighs. “Look, mate, I know you’re hurting. But-”
“But nothing,” Carlos snaps. “Just drop it.”
Lando holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m here if you need to talk, though.”
As Lando walks away, Carlos continues to watch you and Charles. He sees the way Charles’ hand rests on the small of your back, the way you lean into him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Suddenly, Charles looks up, his eyes meeting Carlos’ across the paddock. For a moment, they just stare at each other, an unspoken tension crackling between them. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, Charles says something to you and starts making his way over.
Carlos straightens, steeling himself for the confrontation. As Charles approaches, he can see you watching anxiously from a distance.
“Carlos,” Charles says, his voice cautious. “Can we talk?”
Carlos crosses his arms, his jaw clenched. “What’s there to talk about?”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know this situation is ... complicated. But I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
Carlos laughs bitterly. “Hurt me? You stole my girlfriend. How did you think that was going to make me feel?”
Charles shakes his head. “I didn’t steal anyone. Y/N made her own choice.”
“Right,” Carlos spits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”
Charles takes a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. “I won’t deny that I had feelings for Y/N for a long time. But I never acted on them while you were together. Never.”
Carlos scoffs. “Oh, how noble of you.”
“Carlos, please,” Charles says, his voice softening. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But can’t you see how happy she is?”
Carlos’ eyes flick back to you, standing by the garage and watching them anxiously. He hates to admit it, but you do look happy. Happier than he can remember seeing you in a long time.
“She was happy with me,” Carlos insists, but the words sound hollow even to his own ears.
Charles gives him a sad smile. “Was she? Really? Because from what she’s told me, there were a lot of things you never noticed about her.”
Carlos feels a flare of anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Charles says carefully, “that sometimes we take the people we love for granted. We stop seeing them, really seeing them.”
Carlos wants to argue, to defend himself, but he finds the words sticking in his throat. Because deep down, he knows Charles is right.
“Did you know,” Charles continues, his voice gentle, “that her favorite flowers are pink peonies? Not red roses?”
Carlos blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
Charles nods. “Or that she prefers Prosecco to cava? Or that she has a secret addiction to 80s power ballads?”
With each revelation, Carlos feels like he’s being hit with a fresh wave of regret. How had he missed all of these things? How had he failed to notice what made you, you?
“I ...” Carlos starts, then stops, unsure of what to say.
Charles puts a hand on his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly kind given the circumstances. “I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I want you to understand. Y/N deserves to be with someone who sees her, who appreciates every little thing about her.”
Carlos nods slowly, the fight draining out of him. “And that someone is you?”
Charles smiles softly. “I hope so. I’m certainly trying to be.”
They stand in silence for a moment, both looking over at you. You’re still watching them anxiously, clearly worried about what they might be saying to each other.
Finally, Carlos speaks, his voice rough with emotion. “Just ... just promise me you’ll treat her right. Better than I did.”
Charles nods solemnly. “I promise. With everything I have.”
As Charles turns to walk back to you, Carlos calls out, “Charles?”
Charles pauses, looking back over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Carlos says quietly. “For loving her the way she deserves.”
Charles gives him a small, understanding smile before continuing on his way. Carlos watches as he returns to you, sees the way your face lights up as Charles pulls you into a comforting embrace.
As he turns to walk away, Carlos feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him. There’s still pain, still regret, but there’s also a glimmer of something else. Something that feels a lot like acceptance.
He realizes now that he had taken you for granted, had failed to see the beautiful, complex person you truly were. And while it hurts to admit it, he knows that Charles sees all of that and more.
As he makes his way back to his own garage, Carlos makes a silent promise to himself. To pay more attention, to really see the people in his life. Because he never wants to make the same mistake again, never wants to lose someone else because he failed to appreciate them.
And as he glances back one last time, seeing you and Charles walking hand-in-hand, laughing and lost in your own world, Carlos feels a weight lift from his shoulders.
It’s not easy, and it still hurts, but he knows now that this is how it should be. You deserve to be with someone who knows you, truly knows you, inside and out.
And as much as it pains him to admit it, that someone isn’t him. It’s Charles.
With a deep breath, Carlos turns away, ready to face whatever comes next. He’s lost you, but in doing so, he’s gained a valuable lesson. One he won’t soon forget.
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sevsbestfriend · 3 days
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I usually write fics here but I just wanna rant rn.
Sometimes I got to old posts and stuff, either to get new ideas or just see what the fuck is going on with the other side of the fandom.
The people coming to James defense or crazy, like on one hand they are like 'oh he was only human, he grew as a person otherwise how would lily love him?'
We literally have cannon confirmation that the fucking prat didn't stop hexing people, he just learned to hide it better. Sirius and Remus confirmed this when they called Severus a 'special case'. I don't give a shit about them saying he attacked first, you better believe I am attacking first if I come across a guy who has stripped me naked in public when I didn't do shit to him. (Or the other guy who tried to get me killed by bloody werewolf) Like wtf are you even talking about at that point???
Also, Harry comes across a detention report of them hexing another student in their 7th year. So uhm...yeah.
Then they are like 'oh Severus hates him so his memories are biased'
Did you morons even read the books?? Pensive memories are unbiased, any manipulation is extremely apparent as we saw in Slughorns case. So NO they aren't biased that extremely uncomfortable read of SWM? it's fucking canon in its truest sense.
Also, how in the ever living hippogryph does a guy who strips people naked for fun change so much that he becomes head boy??
It's pretty simple, he doesn't. He learns to hide it better and given the fact that this person has always been given the benefit of the doubt, it is very easy for them to their nature.
Dude had a map that showed him everyone's real time location and an invisibility cloak, he could damn well harass anyone in isolated corners of the castle if he wished. Which is exactly what he did.
Also, these people love to claim how 'lily only approved of him cause he changed.'
To that I say, Who the fuck is Lily?? Mother Teresa??
How is she the ultimate decider of what is good and bad and at the same time, completely right in dating someone who stripped another student makes after a year (or 2) of the event??
Don't get me wrong, she doesn't owe Severus anything, really, but seriously this is just ridiculous. Like if I was a woman, I would be genuinely terrified of someone like that, especially when they got away with no real consequences what so ever.
James was a prick with a very good PR team for friends and teachers. That's really it, it is often said that good looking people can get away with a lot of things and James is just a prime example of that.
---_---_---_---_---_---_---_---_
Also...BRAVE?? Dude had 2 cheat items and the advantage of a Pureblood upbringing and was still too PUSSY to face Severus alone. Yeah..what a real Gryphindor that one. Scrams bravery to you doesn't it? He did this all the way till 17, so yeah he definitely was super important in the order right??
---_---_---_---_---_---_---_---_---_
Dumbledore invested quite a bit in the Marauders with his blatant favoritism and letting a werewolf in the school risking his own position as a headmaster.
And...they all turned to be bloody useless. With only James being useful because of his participation in the birth of Harry Potter.
Sirius in his madness derailed a murder investigation for a fucking decade.
Remus, I genuinely can't remember anything substantial Remus did, except for letting someone he believed was a murderer into Hogwarts and never telling Dumbledore that they were Animagus to begin with.
---_---_--_---_
Seriously, the most useful person in the war had to literally beg on his knees for the man to use him. Even fate was like, for fucks sake, just give this guy a chance already.
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kai-uh-arcadian · 1 day
Text
Inter(n)twining
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synopsis: you’re an intern at JYP Corp, you get suddenly moved to a different floor and meet the woman of your dreams
cw: basically pure fluff, jealous Tzuyu, minor cursing, alcohol, grimey He*chul, please let me know anything else, also Tzuyu is like rich but it doesn't relate to the plot
word count: 4k
notes! hi! I hope you enjoy this!! It was sooo fun to write. I thought about this on my way to my own internship hahaha. Has anyone watched Queen of Tears? I referenced that one (<-watch it if you haven't!) scene in this that I thought was soooooo cute ahh~ anyways! Let me know how you feel about this or if you’d just like to chat. Love youuuu (:
You’d been interning at JYP Corp for about a month and a half now, and so far, things were pretty good. The people you met were okay, and while the work was definitely stressful, the fast-paced environment made the days fly by.
All in all, it wasn’t bad.
Well, almost.
Your floor boss, Heechul, was the one exception. He was in his early 40s, arrogant, and rude—those were the kindest words you could think of to describe him. You despised him secretly, but you were careful never to show it.
It was 9:20 a.m., and you had been at your desk since 7:30, typing up a last-minute report Heechul had dumped on you the moment you stepped through the office door. A report he honestly should have done yesterday.
“Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The way his smug grin appeared as your face faltered for a split second was permanently burned into your memory.
You mimicked his tone quietly to yourself while you made a face, “Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The bitter satisfaction of hitting ‘send’ on the email 40 minutes ahead of schedule almost made up for the annoyance.
“Hey, uh…”
Your heart dropped when you saw Heechul’s head suddenly poke over your cubicle wall.
Did he have super-hearing or something?!
You froze, horrified at the thought that he might’ve overheard your mocking.
“I’m so—” you began, your words stumbling out, but he cut you off without even glancing in your direction.
“Intern #5…” he drawled lazily, “someone on the 3rd floor got pulled into another project. They need someone to fill in for a 12 week case.” He flashed an indifferent smile as you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“Oh, okay. When do I start?” Not even questioning what you’d be doing for the next TWELVE weeks
“Hmm.. like now. Just grab whatever you need and head down there. Thanks!” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you blinking in disbelief.
What the hell. No details, no briefing? Just like that?
Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed your briefcase and stuffed your sparse desk items in it before making your way out the door and into the elevator. It wasn’t until you were inside that it hit you.
He didn’t even know your name. After over a month of interning, you were still just ‘Intern #5.’
“Ahh~ Seriously, fuck that guy…” you muttered to yourself as the elevator dinged, straightening your posture instinctively.
The third floor felt like a completely different world. The cubicles were laid out in a way that was the total opposite of what you were used to, leaving you standing there awkwardly, much like a worried puppy with the way your eyebrows furrowed.
After a few moments a soft voice broke through your thoughts. You turned your head to see a woman peeking out from her cubicle, you only needed to see half her face to realize she was stunning.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah… I was sent here to help out on the 12 week case,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. “But the layout is completely different from the 4th floor, so I’m a bit lost.”
She smiled warmly and stood up from her desk. “Oh! It must be the case I’m working on, my boss mentioned something earlier about another intern joining me so I think she is expecting you!  Her office is down that hall, last door on the left.” Using her long arms to point you in said direction. 
“Thanks a lot!” You started to walk away but paused, realizing you hadn’t asked for her name.
“Tzuyu,” she said with a smile, extending her hand.
“Y/n… Or, as my boss calls me, Intern #5.” You sighed with a small laugh, shaking her hand.
Tzuyu giggled softly. “I’m also an intern and I’ve heard stories about how he treats us. I think I can safely say Jihyo-nim is much nicer” assuaging your worries
As you exchanged smiles with Tzuyu, her warmth immediately calmed your nerves. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing you'd be working with someone friendly for once.
"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll try not to embarrass myself in front of her," you said with a small grin.
Tzuyu chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. She's really understanding—definitely not the type to make you feel like Intern #5," she reassured you, her voice playful.
With one last nod, you turned and made your way to Jihyo’s office, the nerves slowly creeping back in. You took a deep breath, knocked twice, and heard a clear voice from inside.
I really can’t deal with another Heechul situation
"Come in."
Opening the door, you found Jihyo seated at her desk, her space neat and organized but stacked with files. She looked up from her work and smiled brightly. "Y/n, thanks for stepping in on such short notice."
"No problem at all," you said, relieved she actually used your name.
Jihyo stood up and grabbed a folder from her desk. Jihyo motioned for you to sit. "The project we’re working on is a client case that’s been a bit tricky, but with the extra hands, we should be able to get things done faster.” She handed you the file to briefly read it over, “I’m assigning you to work on it with another intern, and I’ll walk you over to your station. You’ll be seated next to your partner."
You nodded, feeling your nerves settle. "Sounds great!"
Jihyo led you out of her office, down the hall, and toward a cluster of cubicles. As you approached, your heart skipped a beat when you realized she was guiding you right to the cubicle next to Tzuyu’s.
“Tzuyu, this is Y/n," Jihyo said with a smile as she motioned toward you. "You’ll both be working together on this case."
Tzuyu smiled warmly as she stood up. "Oh, we've already met!"
Jihyo blinked in surprise for a moment before chuckling softly. "Well, that’s perfect. That makes things easier." She gestured toward the empty cubicle next to Tzuyu’s. "Y/n, this is where you'll be sitting. Tzuyu’s already familiar with the case, so she’ll help you get caught up, and you two can take it from there. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" She made a slight notice how the tips of your ears were beginning to turn red before turning away.
"Thank you," you said, bowing before stepping into your new space and setting down your things.
As Jihyo left, you turned toward Tzuyu, a grin tugging at your lips. "Looks like we’re officially teammates."
Tzuyu nodded, her expression playful. "I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you."
"It seems so," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the idea of working closely with her made your heart flutter just a bit.
Tzuyu sat back down and gestured toward a stack of neatly organized documents. "Okay, let’s get started. I’ll walk you through what we were working on so far, and we can go from there."
You nodded, scooting your chair closer to her, your shoulder just barely brushing against hers as you both leaned in toward the table. The soft sound of paper flipping echoed against the steady lull of the room as Tzuyu began to explain the case, her voice was so calming. Her perfume—a subtle, sweet scent—seemed to linger in the air between you, and though you were trying to focus on her words, it was hard not to get a little distracted.
As she spoke, you couldn’t help but admire how composed and thoughtful she was, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pages. You found yourself glancing at her more often than the documents in front of you, drawn in by her presence. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she carried herself—poised, elegant, but still approachable.
“Do you understand it a bit more now? If not I can go over it again,” Tzuyu’s voice broke through your thoughts, and when you looked up, her eyes were already on you, curious. There was no judgment, just a soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.
You cleared your throat, trying to play it off with a grin. “Oh~! No, that’s okay,” you assuaged. “I’m just trying to process all of it”
She gave a small, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the documents. “Well, you're doing great, I know I just said a lot of words” she giggled, her tone soft but warm.
Over the last eight weeks, you and Tzuyu had gotten to know each other better. Your work together became a steady rhythm—casual conversations, shared laughs, and, to your delight, a shared love for music. It made the long car rides during company trips feel less like work and more like a comfortable escape.
One afternoon, while heading back to the office after a client visit, you caught Tzuyu quietly nodding along to a song from your playlist.
"You like Twice?" you asked, glancing over with mild surprise.
Tzuyu smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone here to listen to them."
"Same here," you chuckled. "You ever seen them live?"
Tzuyu turned her head, her smile growing. "Once, back in college. It was unforgettable."
"I’ve been meaning to for years but never got around to it," you replied. "Maybe next time they’re touring here."
"Maybe we can go together," she said, her voice was so forward yet soft, and the thought of seeing a concert with her lingered in the back of your mind long after the conversation ended.
That evening, after another long day, you found yourself staying late to finish some reports. Tzuyu had already called it a night, stopping by her neighboring cubicle as she prepared to leave.
"Hey, don’t stay too late," she said, offering a tired but warm smile.
"I won’t be long," you replied, stretching your shoulders. "I’ll see you tomorrow!"
"Good night, Y/n" she said, and with a soft wave, she headed out.
It was nearly an hour later when you finally finished up, the office almost eerily silent. You grabbed your things and headed out, only to find Tzuyu standing by the entrance under the building’s foyer, her arms crossed as she looked out at the rain pouring down.
You frowned, assuming she was waiting for the storm to calm down. "Seriously?" you muttered to yourself, amused that someone so seemingly put-together would forget an umbrella on a night like this. With a sigh, you walked over to her.
"Tzuyu, did you forget your umbrella?" you assumed lightly, a teasing smile on your face as you stood beside her.
Tzuyu turned toward you, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I'm just waiting for—"
"For the rain to stop?" You asked as you frantically put your stuff down on the concrete while taking off your blazer.
"You'll get sick if you try to walk home like this," you interrupted, pulling out your own red umbrella of your bag and pressing it into her hands while also throwing your blazer around her.
Tzuyu opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t give her a chance.
"Here, take mine."
Tzuyu blinked, a bit taken aback. "But what about you?"
"I’ll be fine," you said with a reassuring smile. "The bus stop is just around the corner, and so I’ll be good. Besides, this umbrella’s way too nice to just be used in a short walk!"
Tzuyu hesitated, looking between you, the umbrella, and the pre-warmed jacket around her. She opened her mouth again, probably to explain, but you waved her off, already heading toward the street. "Seriously, don’t worry about it! It looks better on you anyway!"
Before she could protest, you were jogging away, flashing her a quick cheeky smile over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tzu~!"
She stood there, the unopened red umbrella still in her hand and blazer around her as she watched you dart off toward the bus stop, your silhouette slowly disappearing in the fog of the heavy rain. Tzuyu glanced down at the umbrella, confusion flickering in her eyes.
“I .. have a driver..”
Just as she stood there, still processing what had happened, her driver finally pulled up, headlights cutting through the downpour.
"Miss Chou, I apologize for the delay—the rain's been causing awful traffic," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for her.
Tzuyu looked down at the umbrella again, momentarily lost in thought. "It’s okay, don't worry about it" she murmured, climbing into the car, the umbrella still firmly in her grip.
As the car drove off, Tzuyu’s thoughts drifted back to you—how you’d rushed off into the rain without a jacket nor without a second thought, stupidly smiling despite the storm, leaving her with your umbrella. She looked out the window as the bus drove off in the distance, watching your form disappear from view, wondering about you, and why you so easily gave her the clothes off your back.
The next morning, when you arrived at the office, you saw Tzuyu already at her desk, the red umbrella propped up against your chair.
“Good morning Tzu!” You cheerfully greeted her while making your way to your respective space. 
She glanced up as you approached, her usual calm expression shifting to something more thoughtful.
"You know, you didn’t have to do all that last night," she said softly, as if she’d been thinking about it all morning. (she was)
You shrugged, giving her an easy smile. "I couldn’t let you walk in the rain like that. It’s just an umbrella and I bought that jacket from Amazon, no big deal! I’m glad you got home safe."
Tzuyu held your gaze for a moment, her eyes lingering on yours before she looked down. "Still… I appreciate it. I’ll give it back when it’s dry-cleaned"
Dry-cleaned?
"No it’s okay! Don’t worry about it," you replied, brushing off her concern with a wave of your hand. "It’s really okay!"
But as you settled into your seat, something about the exchange left an unspoken feeling between you both, small but undeniably there. You couldn’t quite shake it—the way her gaze lingered, it seemed like a quiet weight resting beside her.
And maybe, just maybe, that gesture meant more than either of you were ready to admit
Twelve weeks had passed, and you and Tzuyu had finally closed the case(successfully!) you’d been working on it for so long. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and both the third and fourth floors were buzzing with excitement. As the end-of-year office tradition dictated, Jihyo—and unfortunately, Heechul—organized a work dinner and drinks to celebrate the mid-year successes.
Dinner started smoothly. Everyone was relaxed, conversations filled with lighthearted laughter and stories of the past few months. Tzuyu sat beside you, nursing her drink, her small, contented smile only adding to the warmth of the night.
But then, the drinks started flowing.
As the evening wore on, you noticed Heechul’s eyes repeatedly drifting toward Tzuyu. From the moment he saw her, it was clear what his intentions were. His predatory gaze, the same one you’d witnessed with other interns, made your blood simmer. He was so zeroing in.
Tzuyu, who was carefully sipping her beer, had stiffened as Heechul sauntered over with a smug grin, the two small glasses in his hand wobbling slightly from how much he’d already consumed.
“Hey, Tzuyu, right?” Heechul drawled, leaning on the table beside her. “Let’s do a love-shot. It’s for team bondinggg~” He flashed her a grin, his voice dripping with sleaze.
Tzuyu froze, glancing away uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, I don’t really drink..” she murmured, clearly looking for a way out.
“Oh, come onnn~!” Heechul leaned in closer, his body practically pinning her against the wall which happened to be your back. “Don’t be shy. It’s just one drink~!”
That was enough.
Without missing a beat, you stood from your seat, a little unsteady from your own drinks but filled with purpose. 
“Boss-nim, how about… you come here!” You feigned excitement while the whole tables’ eyes were on you two
In a few steps you guided him and you closed the distance, slipping Heechul away from Tzuyu smoothly, effortlessly blocking her from his sight with your body while wrapping your forearm around his.
“How about this, Boss-nim?” you said with a playful grin, your voice steady despite the alcohol in your system. “Why don’t we take that love-shot together!?”
You leaned in closer, one arm propped against the wall beside his head, the other smoothly taking one of the glasses from his hand.
Heechul blinked, visibly surprised but clearly intrigued by your boldness. His smirk widened. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d be so forward, Intern #5.”
God did you hate this man.
You internally rolled your eyes as you tilted your head, giving him a fake smile. “Why not? I’m a big team player, right? ” You clinked his glass, maintaining your position between him and Tzuyu.
Heechul's initial shock melted into something more. His grin grew cockier, but now with a hint of appreciation. He raised his glass, eyeing you with newfound interest. “Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”
You turned out to the table of people watching, letting the tension simmer. “To teamwork! ” You said, your voice is just loud enough for your table to hear.
Heechul clinked his glass against yours, his gaze still locked onto you. “To teamwork,” he echoed.
You both threw back the shots, and while the burn of the alcohol hit your throat, you couldn’t help but hide a face of disgust at the sight of Heechul staring at you with a mix of admiration and something else entirely.
As you set your glass down, you noticed some of the female coworkers nearby watching you both, whispering among themselves.
“Wow, did you see that?” one of them murmured, clearly impressed. “She totally flipped the situation and helped that one girl”
“Right? That was so smooth. She’s got some serious charm.”
“I think Heechul-nim’s  into her now.”
“Hell— I’m even into her now! What’s her name?”
Their whispers weren’t exactly quiet, and the compliments floated through the air, filling the space around you. You caught snippets of their words, and even in your slightly tipsy state, you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks due to flattery.
But then, you glanced at Tzuyu. Her usually soft expression was tight, her eyes focused on the table, hands gripping her drink a little too tightly. She wasn’t saying anything, but there was something in her silence—something that felt like quiet jealousy.
Before you could process it, Heechul broke the moment by leaning in toward you with a grin. “I’ve got to say, Intern #5, you’re full of surprises.”
You chuckled, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in your voice. “Gotta keep you on your toes, right boss-nim? Can’t let you make just anyone uncomfortable!” You said while slipping back into your seat
His laughter boomed through the room, seemingly laughing off that sly jab, the other colleagues joined in, you felt Tzuyu’s presence beside you, still silent, still reserved. You turned toward her, catching her gaze for just a brief moment, her eyes meeting yours before she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable.
Leaning down slightly, you whispered to her, “Hey, you okay?”
Tzuyu nodded, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just... tired. Maybe I’ll head home soon.”
“Oh! Please, I can walk you home,” you suggested, voice slightly slurred from the alcohol but laced with genuine concern.
Tzuyu glanced at you for a brief moment, her face unreadable. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice soft but clipped as she grabbed her things.
You both bowed respectfully to thank everyone for the dinner before slipping out the door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside.
The silence stretched between you as you followed behind her. Her long strides made it hard to keep up, and you couldn’t help but feel that she was walking with a certain purpose—like she was intentionally trying to get ahead of you while you were left following her like a loyal dog.
“Tzuyu-ya, what’s wrong?” you called after her, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to close the distance. She kept walking, her pace unfaltering, and for a moment, you wondered if she was genuinely trying to avoid you.
“Tzuyu-ya,” you called again, a little louder this time as she reached the edge of the bridge near her house. In a moment of panic, you gently grabbed her arm to stop her.
She froze.
“I’m so sorry… did I make you uncomfortable? Did you want Hee—” you started to ask, words tumbling out in your haste to apologize. Your heart sank at the mere thought that maybe you had overstepped, that maybe she had wanted to—
“Yes! You made me uncomfortable!” Tzuyu interrupted, spinning around to face you, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger.
You blinked, shocked. “I’m sorry... I thought you were trying to get away from—” Trying to explain
“You were being too cute!” Tzuyu blurted out, cutting you off again, her face flushed even darker as she averted her gaze, clearly flustered.
Your eyes widened at her sudden admission. "W-What?"
“You were being charming... in front of other women!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouting child. “Why would you do that? Are you trying to attract them? It was too charming!”
It all hit you at once. Her awkward silence, her reservedness during dinner—it wasn’t because of Heechul, it was because of you. Even through the fog of alcohol, you suddenly understood.
You took a step closer to her, your heart racing. “Tzuyu, I—” you began, but her vulnerability was so palpable in that moment, it stopped you in your tracks.
Without thinking, you reached up, cupping the right side of her face with your hand. Her skin was warm beneath your palm, and her breath hitched as your thumb gently caressed her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice low but steady. “I won’t do that again. I promise... my charm will only be saved for you, my Tzuyu.” You gave her a sweet smile
Tzuyu’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded as she looked up at you, absentmindedly nuzzling into your hand, her vulnerability so clear in the way she held your gaze. “It better not,” she murmured, though her words carried no real bite.
In that moment, the air between you felt thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread pulling you closer to her. Your heart pounded as you realized what you had/wanted to do.
Or maybe it was the alcohol in your veins? Or maybe the sheer need to kiss her right in that moment.
Tzuyu’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, but she didn’t pull away. She held your gaze, her breath shallow, her lips parted just slightly as if waiting for something—for you to make the first move.
And so, you did.
Without another word, you gently tilted her chin up with your thumb, leaning in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the warmth of her skin beneath your hand only urged you closer.
Your lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss—almost like a question. She responded with a slight, shy press of her lips against yours, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. You could feel the soft tremble of her shoulders beneath your hands, as if she was just as unsure and just as eager.
For a brief moment, the world outside disappeared—The bridge, the distant city sounds—all of it melted away.
When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you catching your breath. You felt her fingers brush against your hand, hesitant but full of meaning, as if she was silently asking, What now?
You smiled softly, your thumb tracing her cheek one last time before you whispered, “I meant it. It’s just you, Tzuyu.”
Her lips curled into a small, bashful smile as she whispered back, “Just me.”
Maybe come Monday you’ll ask Jihyo for a permanent position on the third floor.
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jintaka-hane · 2 days
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@walmartmihawk!! I did it!!! My first request and I WAS SO EXCITED!! You have no idea how much fun it was writing this for you!
Ladies and gentlemen! Come get a ride with our favourite FIRST MATE!
A TRIP TO THE ONSEN
Masterlist
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Summary: Your crew convinces you to join them for a relaxing trip to an onsen. When you arrive, you find out the women’s section is closed due to maintenance issues, and you're forced to use the men’s area as a mixed bath. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 2800 Notes: Beckman x f!Reader, forced proximity, nudity but not very explicit, Reader is shy, Beckman is a gentleman, Red haired pirates are assholes XD
As you stepped into the men's changing room, you seriously considered turning around and walking right back out the way you came. 
The place couldn’t be more different from the clean, orderly women’s changing area, with its wicker baskets arranged in perfect harmony on symmetrical shelves, and its pristinely rolled, white towels ready for use. No, the room you found yourself in—thanks to the sign that read, “due to a facilities issue, we kindly ask you to use the men’s pool as a shared space”—was a far cry from that. 
The clothing of the current occupants—your crew—was strewn across the room in a careless mess, distinguished only by loosely categorized piles according to ownership. Each pile was a disaster of wrinkled sashes, balled-up t-shirts, trousers with one leg inside out, and the inevitable final touch, a pair of used boxers, briefs, or trunks, perched proudly on top. You let out a heavy sigh, recognizing your captain’s floral trousers, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the first mate’s cloak.
Were you really prepared to share an enclosed space with your crew members, as they had been brought into the world? The answer was a resounding NO. But the thought of sinking your body, aching after so many nights sleeping in a hammock, into the soothing waters of the onsen was too tempting to resist. Besides, you had an infallible plan. Slip in quietly, draw no attention, and position yourself as far away from them as possible.
You wrapped the largest towel you could find around your naked body, then placed your hands on the swinging doors that led to the pool. With your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pushed the doors open... only to come face-to-face with Yasopp’s ass as he sank into the steaming, shimmering waters.
The mere sight of the sniper’s bare backside left you blushing, so you marched forward in long strides, avoiding any eye contact, carefully stepping around the towels your crewmates had scattered along the wooden edge of the pool.
“Hey! You made it after all!” Shanks called out cheerfully, resting his forearms on the edge of the pool to get a better look at you. 
“Yes...” you mumbled, clutching tightly at your towel and rushing past him as quickly as you could. Beckman wasn’t far away and greeted you with a slight, elegant nod—a gesture you shyly returned.
When you reached the farthest side of the pool—and definitely not the prettiest, with a large pipe in plain sight on one of the walls—you sat down carefully on the edge making sure your towel wouldn’t betray you at the worst moment. You dipped your legs into the water and, with a calculated move, let the towel fall onto the wooden floor before quickly slipping into the pool.
The moment the mineral-rich water touched your skin, you felt relief and relaxation wash over your sore muscles. The water was soothingly hot, and the steam rising from its surface created an atmosphere of calm and tranquility. You dipped your head beneath the surface, letting the water soothe your face and scalp. As you emerged, ensuring the waterline reached at least your shoulders, you opened your eyes to find your entire crew staring at you. A flush crept up your cheeks as you became the center of attention, so you discreetly turned away, lifting your arms out of the water to rub them as if you were busy cleaning.
"Roo, stop staring at me," you shot, picking a random scapegoat as you felt all the men’s eyes glued to your bare back. Beckman was quick to react, giving the cook a good smack upside the head, splashing water on a few of the nearby crewmates.
“Ow!”
"Stop looking at her," his deep voice commanded, stern and reprimanding. "And you too," he added, smacking Limejuice on the back of the head too.
"Huh? Punch is doin' it too!" the long-haired blonde complained, pointing an accusing finger at his larger friend.
Shanks chuckled heartily and leaned in toward the first mate, speaking in a low voice, “Come on, Beck, give them a break. Don’t tell me you didn’t take a peek yourself.”
The first mate turned his back to you so you couldn’t see, then flashed a cheeky grin and mouthed, 'I did,' causing the rest of the crew to crack up.
For the next few minutes, they left you alone, allowing you to settle into the little haven of peace you’d created at the far corner of the pool. You focused on your own relaxation, letting the warmth of the water soothe your body.
“Oi” Yassop’s voice broke through the peaceful silence. “The owner said there’s a cold pool next door, and a bar close by. Who’s up for checkin’ it out?”
Everyone but Beckman nodded, and they began to climb out of the water, offering you the rather embarrassing sight of a row of bare backsides as they completely ignored the towels waiting for them. You dipped your head under the water again, staying submerged until they had all left, which they thankfully did quickly — as they always did when a bar was involved — sparing yourself from having to choose between a death of embarrassment or by drowning.
"How’re you doing, darlin’?" you heard the first mate’s warm, baritone voice the moment your head broke the surface of the water. His back was pressed against the side of the pool, arms casually draped over the edge, biceps flexing slightly as they rested there. You noticed how his broad shoulders lifted just a touch, the position making them strain. His wet, silver hair was tied back in a loose, low ponytail, and beads of water trickled down his neck, landing on his collarbone. You swallowed hard, silently grateful for the distance between you, knowing that your nerves wouldn’t handle being too close to him. 
“Fine,” you replied shyly, sliding into the water until it reached your chin. 
Beckman opened his mouth to say something more but then shut it, his sharp eyes narrowing as they shifted from your gaze to a point behind you. You heard the faint hiss of pressure behind you and turned to see the massive pipe protruding from the wall, vibrating slightly.
“Darlin’, something’s not right…”
“What—” you turned to find him looking at the pipe, his body tense and alert, the water now at his waist.
The pool’s swinging doors burst open, and the onsen’s owner rushed in, his face a mask of panic as his hands clutched his head. 
"THE PIIIIPE!!! It’s going to explode!!!" he shouted, clawing at his face. "You, the strong one!" his finger pointed at your shocked first mate. "Try to contain it until I can close the valve! The water’s extremely hot, and if it blows, you’ll be scalded!!"
And with that, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.
Beckman, a competent man used to urgent commands, sprang into action without a second thought. He pushed off from the edge of the pool, water splashing everywhere as he vaulted out, and grabbed his towel with a gruff grunt to tie it in a loose knot around his waist. Then he raced toward the massive pipe just behind you, while you stared in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, unable to react to the sight of the first mate sprinting toward you, half-naked.
When he reached the pipe, he felt it with his hands, locating the exact point where a joint was giving way, and pressed on it, straining with all his might to hold back the increasingly vibrating pipe.
“Shit, shit, shit…” he muttered to himself, bending slightly to apply more pressure with both hands. He lowered his head, mumbling incomprehensible words until a perfectly clear “FUCK” reached your ears.
“What? What’s going on, Becks?” From where you stood, all you could see was his wet back, taut with the effort. 
“Darlin’… I’m afraid I’m going to need your help here.”
You didn’t need to hear anything else. You always followed your first mate’s orders, no matter how peculiar or awkward the situation. So, putting aside your shyness, you scrambled out of the pool, knotted your towel tightly at your chest, and rushed to help him.
“Where do I need to press?” you asked as you moved closer, trying to ignore the striking muscles of his lower back peeking out from his towel.
“Right at my waist.” 
“What?”
“My towel…” he explained as calmly as he could, “it’s slipping, and I can’t let go of the pipe. You’ve got to hold it for me.”
“Okay,” you said, trying to hide your reluctance. You lifted one hand, extended your index finger, and pressed it against the towel on one side of his adonis belt.
“Darlin’, it’s slipping on the other side too…”
“...Okay,” you repeated as you robotically moved your other hand to the other side of his hip, your face so close to his back that your nose nearly brushed against his defined shoulder blades.
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” you lifted your chin to fix your gaze on the ceiling.
You hadn’t been in that position long when you heard him curse again, his hips shifting under your hands, tense and nervous.
“I think there’s another loose joint,” his rough, deep voice said. “Let me check…” He crouched down, arching his wardrobe-like back, and you stepped back to avoid bumping into him. “Yeah, damn… there’s another leak. Darlin’, you’re gonna need to help me contain it.”
“How?” your voice quivered.
“Get in front of me, hold the pipe where I tell you with one hand, and keep my towel in place with the other.”
“Okay…”
You let go of one side of his towel and moved to his side, waiting for instructions. He looked at you with his eyes framed by those characteristic deep lines on his face, and with a nod, he motioned for you to tuck your head between his arms. You complied, wedging yourself between his massive body and the pipe, your back practically touching his chest.
“Right there,” he instructed with a tilt of his chin. 
You placed one hand where he directed, and pressed firmly.
“Now the towel.” 
Keeping an eye on the pipe, you awkwardly fumbled at the lower part of his abdomen, trying to find the edge of his towel. Not finding it easily, you turned towards him, coming face-to-chest again with his massive, muscular frame. Your cheeks flamed red as you felt his stomach tighten under your hands, your fingertips tracing the line of his happy trail until you finally found the towel.
Beckman knew you were a very shy person. He had tried to approach you several times, and you had always shied away. And at that moment, he felt an intense wave of guilt for putting you in such a compromising position. 
“Darlin’, I am so sorry ab—”
“—Beck,” you interrupted, noticing the pipe shaking and dripping dangerously from the other side. “I think I need to use my other hand to hold the pipe on that side too…”
He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Alright… do you think you can hold my towel with your knee?”
“... I-I’ll give it a try.”
You released his towel and turned so that your body faced his broad frame. Then, you extended your arm as far as you could to cover the new leak, successfully sealing the damage. Feeling proud that you had managed to control the situation, you lifted your leg—perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm—toward the first mate’s groin.
“Hey,” he chided, jumping slightly in surprise at the speed of your approaching knee. “Just… be careful.”
“Sorry,” you slowed the movement of your knee, pressing it gently against the towel just below his navel.
Seconds stretched into eternity in that position. Beckman, in an attempt to be as polite as possible, turned his face away to give you some space, his elegant cheekbone exposed to you. You were so close that you could see the details of the X-shaped scar marking his temple, and your eyes traced the small beard adorning his chin. The situation was extremely uncomfortable and awkward, but you both were convinced that any moment now the onsen owner would come and tell you he had managed to close the valve.
But, of course, anything that can worsen, will. So, barely a couple of minutes had passed when you heard Beckman curse again, his body twisting and his arms trembling.
“Darlin'...” His gray eyes locked onto yours.
“Huh?” 
“The pipe... ah, damn,” he grunted, shaking his elbows frantically over you but still gripping the pipe. You noticed large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “It’s too hot. I—I can’t keep holding it. It’s burning my skin.”
Your lips parted in alarm. “What do we do, Beck?”
“I’ve got an idea… “ He cleared his throat a bit. "take my towel off, so I can use it between the pipe and my hands.”
“What?! No, Beck…” You felt your pulse quicken.
“Got a better idea?” he asked, his tone urgent but calm, his eyes flicking quickly to the knot of your towel at your chest. You followed his gaze, then looked back at him. 
“Oh, NO. No, no, no—”
“My towel, then,” he insisted.
You swallowed hard, and removing one hand from the pipe, you nervously traced the edge of the towel around his waist until you found a corner to tug on. Just before pulling it off, you muttered a clumsy, “Sorry,” which made him let out a genuine laugh that rumbled through his chest.
“Oh, I'd way rather have you see me naked than lose my hands, Doll”.
You forced a shy smile onto your lips and gave the towel a quick yank to pull it free, your eyes fixed straight ahead.
"Alright," he said with endless patience, "now you're gonna need to crouch down a bit to get it around my hands."
This time, the smile didn’t come. You simply gave a curt nod, squeezed your eyes shut, and crouched down to a compromising level, feeling him step back to give you space. You helped him protect his hands, then straightened up as fast as you could, extending your arm to cover the pipe again, avoiding letting your peripheral vision wander too far downward.
And so, there you were, standing directly in front of your bare and broad-shouldered first mate, arms outstretched, each hand firmly gripping a pipe. 
“Could be worse, you know…” Beckman grinned, trying to joke as he noticed the sweat beginning to form on your brow.
"How?" 
"We could be dealing with sewage."
You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or burst into a nervous, hysterical laugh. You didn’t get the chance to figure it out either, because at that moment, you felt the knot of your towel begin to loosen around your chest.
"Oh, Beck..." you groaned, your voice shaky and weak. "I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I—"
“What’s wrong, Darlin’?” His eyes darted between yours.
“My towel… the knot… I don’t know what to do, I-I can’t…” you said, tears threatening to spill over. 
Beckman couldn’t stand to see you suffering. As first mate, his duty was to protect and care for the entire crew. And the sight of your doe-like eyes, full of desperation, broke his huge heart. So, without asking for permission or thinking twice, he did the first—and only—thing that came to mind. He respectfully shut his eyes and buried his head into your cleavage with a low growl, gripping the knot of your towel with his teeth just as it was about to come undone.
You stood there, frozen, blinking several times as you tried to process what was happening. Your heart started thudding in your chest, and your blood rushed to your temples, your face turning a fiery deep red as you couldn’t contain your embarrassment. And just at that precise and convenient moment, you heard a group of familiar male voices cheerfully making their way into the onsen pool.
The doors swung open, and the room fell into a sepulchral silence.
'Seriously, guys? Here?' you heard someone whisper.
'Well, well, Beck…' you recognized the unmistakable, mocking voice of your captain, singing out with a teasing grin. 'Didn’t expect this from you. So you wanted her all to yourself, huh?'"
You felt Beckman grumble against your chest, and when you looked down, you saw that his ears were even redder than your own flushed cheeks, the contrast with his pearl earrings making them even more striking. Your shoulders began to shake involuntarily as you snorted out a wild, uncontrollable laugh, realizing that, for once in your life, you weren’t the most flushed person in the room.
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Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita <3
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radioactivepeasant · 2 days
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Snippets: Free Day Thursday
As per the poll results, we are giving Damas stress via Just Plain Silliness. It builds character. Not that I needed an excuse to Inconvenience Characters in the first place 😆 it's become my favorite way of writing anything. Not Angst or Adventure, but Aggravation of Character in ridiculous ways 😂
This falls into the Trespasser au (last "episode" of that found HERE) a bit before the second Arena fight in the game.
The king of Spargus, Jak decided, was a killjoy.
For a city where strength and survival were supposed to be the most important traits, he sure didn't like any of Jak's demonstrations of strength or survival.
"You can't race Leapers in the middle of the market."
"Don't swim over the reef."
"Stop antagonizing the monks."
"You can't race Leapers on neighborhood roofs, either."
"If I told you not to swim over the reef, why would you assume I'd be okay with you feeding the sea monster?!'
It was like he was vehemently opposed to the mere concept of fun.
Jak folded his arms and tried not to roll his eyes while Kleiver complained about the scuffed up suspension and undercarriage on the Dune Hopper. Sure, he'd cut it a little close on the broken bridge, but he'd gotten away with the artifacts and left the Marauders in a two car pile up, so who was the winner, here?
Not Jak, apparently.
Damas listened to Kleiver yell about how he'd have to redo the entire suspension -- a gross exaggeration -- and how there was half a metalhead stuck in the undercarriage. Now that, Jak hadn't known about. When had he run over a metalhead?
"Hey! We didn't do that!" Daxter protested, "How do we know you didn't put that there last time you drove?!"
"Because I don't take the Hopper if I plan to do a run down Turquoise Canyon!" Kleiver snapped.
Damas steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and examined the damaged vehicle.
"One of these days, kid, I swear to Volcan-"
"What?! I got the job done, didn't I?" Jak protested indignantly. "Did you want the Marauders to get their hands on a functioning power cell?"
Damas’s jaw tightened so much that his mouth appeared to be folding inward. He inhaled slowly, and let it out again, ears twitching while he was very obviously counting to ten.
"There are no jumps in the canyon," he said slowly, "So how did you manage this?"
Jak shrugged nonchalantly. "The 'rauders chased us out to the ruins," he explained, "Ran out of turbo, so I had to get creative with the jump."
Kleiver started swearing very creatively under his breath. Damas turned an interesting shade of red.
"That does it."
The king grabbed Jak by the channeling ring and near dragged him out of the garage before Kleiver could clobber someone with a wrench.
"One more stunt like that out of you," Damas threatened, "and I'm entering you into an apprenticeship. Let's see you foment chaos with an actual structure in your day."
"You're not gonna do that," Jak scoffed.
Damas’s eyes narrowed. "Try me."
Jak did not take this nearly as seriously as he ought to have. In fact, he seemed to regard the threat as more instances of Damas "worrying too much". Damas did not worry too much! If anything, he wasn't worried enough about the insanity this young unknown relative had brought into his city! More than one advisor or guildmaster had been privy to the king muttering darkly, "I'm either going to kill him, or start training him myself. I'll let you know when I've figured out which."
And of course, Jak kept being Jak. Climbing the Arena walls because he saw a Precursor orb someone had dropped. Messing around with some kind of evil alien satellite on the beach. Inciting other inhabitants of the youth barracks to join foot races in the barrack halls in the dead hours of night. And he seemed to regard all of this as perfectly normal behavior. It was like all the impulses he'd had to shove down in Haven, all the ways he'd had to be perfect to fit under the yoke of that terrible word, hero, everything came crashing down in Spargus. He had almost no limits here, and that kind of freedom seemed to awaken a wildness that was above the paygrade of the dorm supervisor.
It came to the point where Damas was actually allowing the kid to go out into a sandstorm, just to get some of that boundless energy out! It wouldn't have been his first choice. Or even his tenth. But the storm rolling in was much larger than anything else they'd seen that summer. And for all his recklessness, Jak was their fastest driver.
"Four scouts have not reported in," the king told Jak and Daxter. His face was grim. "Two just set off their emergency beacons. At the rate this storm is going-"
He shook his head, cutting off his sentence.
Daxter had worried that Spargus would be another Krew situation at first. But here was the king of the cranky lizard-riders, flipping out because a handful of scouts -- one of the lowest ranks in the city -- weren't accounted for before a deadly storm.
In Haven, their absence wouldn't have even been noticed until roll call.
The old timers in the market were right, weren't they? "King's eyes see all." This guy watched everyone like a hawk, didn't he? Daxter wasn't sure if that bothered him, or if it just reminded him of Jak.
He supposed that was fitting, considering the two were probably related, no matter how in denial Jak seemed to be about being an Heir of Mar.
"Where's the Crawler right now?" Jak asked.
The mobile sandstorm shelter wasn't invincible, but it could take a lot. That would be the scouts' best bet.
Damas looked out the windows, glaring at the dark clouds as though he could hold the storm back by sheer force of will. It took a moment to hear his voice over the water.
"The Crawler is in the steppes at the moment. She's not a fast vehicle, Jak. I need you to get those scouts to either the Crawler or the city."
"I will."
Damas turned a stern look on them both.
"No stunts. These are people's lives we're talking about."
"I know!" Jak sputtered, a little offended. "And I won't bust the car up this time, so Kleiver can give it a rest."
"No. I'm serious, boy," Damas warned, "If it comes down to abandoning the car for shelter or trying to drive in the storm, you leave the car. Do you understand?"
Jak huffed. Damas had seen him outrun sandstorms before! What was so bad about a slightly bigger one?
"I got it, I got it," he grumbled.
Damas glared.
"No. Stunts. You get back here in one piece."
"Okay, I got it already!" Jak groaned.
"Jak-!"
"I know, Dad!" Jak complained.
An instant later his eyes widened.
The water suddenly seemed much louder than usual.
Daxter wasn't even sure any of them were breathing.
Three pairs of dramatically widened eyes darted back and forth between them as silence built up like steam under pressure. It was going to erupt sooner or later, the question was how.
Damas made a very small, strangled noise in the back of his throat.
Jak snapped out of his moment of horrified realization.
"Uh. I'll let you know when everyone is accounted for!"
He pivoted and bolted for the elevator before Damas could see his entire face burn crimson.
A guard at the back of the chamber opened his mouth to comment and in one rushed tangle of syllables Jak hissed,
"Youdidn'thearanything!"
Damas didn't blink for a good two minutes after Jak had left.
He didn't move for a good two minutes.
He stood exactly where he'd been, staring blankly at the empty elevator shaft.
The captain of the tower guard, an older man named Cephus, left his place by the windows to lean into Damas’s peripheral vision. He waved slightly, and the king finally blinked.
"Are you alright, sire?" Cephus asked.
Damas made a curious wheeze before speaking through a groaning inhalation.
"Oh no."
"Hm!" Cephus stroked his long beard. "Guess the wild one imprinted on you! Do I offer congratulations or condolences?"
Damas nodded slowly and stiffly.
"....help."
There could not possibly have been a worse time for the monks to finally send him the results of the blood test.
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nadianova · 12 hours
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im sorry if anyones asked this before but! what's your process for planning out your vns? it might be too open-ended a question but playing malmaid its clear that you have a lot of skill and really have the medium nailed, so like... what does your workflow look like? how do you piece together whatever beginning idea fragments you have into something so coherent and well put together as this? what kinds of things do you prioritize? have you written about your process before?
i should tag my shit better i had to scroll forever to find these
but uhhhhhh i think. i seriously think the biggest misconception is that i somehow know what I'm doing like consistently the moments that people like in my games are moments i wsnt even thinking about and instead i put my effort into some entirely dismissed location.
i dont know what im doing but if i am to point at a skill my skill is the fact that i can in fact complete games and that gives people an opportunity to enjoy them
if you go read my first vns you'll notice they are not malmaid but after having made so many its just helped me build a repertoire of scripting abilities and knowledge on how to express myself in a visual novel format.. ultimately i am kinda writing the same thing over and over again in my vns cause that's just what i like to do
so its just trial and error really while having fun with the process
but yeah theres two other links wheere itry to go in the details but everything is so vague and shifting i might be doing something entirely different for my next game I'm already learning that i HATE planning so much as I've done for NAOMIDA and i have way more fun just winging it like i did with hopeless junction and dddeviance
my notes are actually insane like
lmao
look at these are my current notes and starting baseline for my lina side story in my game
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like srly i just throw shit in be it memes or tweets or snippets of my own thoughts i wrote half asleep at 4 am and then figure out the details later and when i feel like my story is clear enough in my brain from shit like this i just start writing it hopping from scene to scene usually writing the fun scenes first and then suffering when i gotta string everything together
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nerdy-stilinski · 11 months
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Fic Reveal
Hey y'all!! I'm super super excited -- today is reveal day for the 2023 Sterek Reverse Bang, and I'm pumped to share the fic I wrote for Klam (@1989dreamer)'s absolutely awesome artwork!!
last night, i woke the fuck up
Rating: Teen for language
Word count: 18k (!!)
Tags: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, prince!Derek, bard!Stiles, Amnesia, Fake Marriage (sort of!), Evil Kate Argent
Summary: Crown Prince Derek Hale of Triskele decides the best way to get a taste of freedom from his upcoming marriage to one Lady Kate Argent is to run away. He's woefully unprepared to meet Stiles, a traveling bard who seems... familiar .
Or, alternatively, in which Derek Hale is a runaway prince, and Stiles is just his bard.
i'd love it if y'all checked it out and appreciated her artwork!!!
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a-dope-fiend · 30 days
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It irritates me alot when people say that making medic more compassionate is ''missing the point of his character'' when he is literally shown to be in the comics.... did you miss the part where he showed concern for both sniper and miss pauling's well being in comic 5 and 6.
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His actions are a combination of genuine attachment + clinical interest and these things do not cancel out one another. He is always pushing boundaries and going against the grain and i think this is what led to him losing his license in the first place. He felt stifled by the rules imposed on him.
He is shown to be extremely passionate so it makes sense that he would use his endless fascination with medicine as a way to show his affection. He loves his friends so he will find a way to make them borderline indestructible. Malpractice is his love language.
#it makes me really angry how adamant some people are against exploring his sweeter side beyond just ''heehoo evil doctor''#idk how to tell you that giving a character a wider range of complexities and oftentimes contradicting traits#does not equal 'woobification'. him being friendly social and cheerful and fascinated with the world around him (which he canonically is)#is not the same thing as writing him as a helpless softboy. those two things do not correlate#i saw this take a while ago that made me really mad#basically they claimed medic didn't even bother to check on sniper because of his 'ego' and 'callousness'#except he literally did! he was visibly worried when sniper wanted to get back in the fight!#it's so abundantly clear that medic just misses social cues and doesn't always react accordingly#i mean they also had some other takes on him that made me incredibly uncomfortable and just didn't make sense to me#plus his quote unquote evilness is a joke it's not. something that is meant to be taken seriously#he's more comparable to a saturday morning cartoon villain except he is a protagonist#the way he approaches medicine to me is very similiar to#a child playing potions if that makes sense. he is throwing shit together to see what sticks#and having fun with it#i might rewrite this later to be more coherent because i have alot of thoughts on him that are jumbled together#and there is so much to say abt him#also i find it so funny how inconsistent he is. he tells them they all hallucinated before brain death#yet he personally went to hell multiple times. why did he do that#tf2#medic#tf2 medic#medic tf2#team fortress 2
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phoebepheebsphibs · 21 days
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Double-Mutated Mikey
Chapter 47/Epilogue: Mikey Done Good
Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club
Prev
It has been a month since Mikey's second rescue from the TCRI.
The lair is bright again. There is laughter again. Everyone smiles and jokes and has fun again.
It's a home again.
Casey Jones Jr. smiles as he works to tidy up the lair, moving the empty and flattened cardboard boxes over to a side tunnel so they can be placed in a dumpster later. Usually, none of them mind the clutter or the mess from moving, but they're having guests over tonight and Casey wants to make a good impression.
Speaking of, CJ gets a notif from the security system that April has arrived. She waltzes in moment later, smiling brightly.
"Whattup, family!" she yells loudly, announcing her arrival to all who didn't get the notification. "It's your favourite person! Apriiiiiiiiiiiiil O'Neil!!"
CJ rolls his eyes as Donatello and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 come out to greet her.
"Hey, April!" Donnie responds, quickly fistbumping her in greeting. "How was class?"
"Pretty good. My report got an A, so I'd think I'm a shoo-in for the competitive writing finals this year. I heard the winners get to intern for Channel 6!"
Donnie rolls his eyes and smiles.
"You always did like the news."
"Congrats, bromigo!" S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 cheers, activating a few streamers and confetti, much to Casey's annoyance at having to clean the hall again.
"Where's everybody else?" April asks, glancing up and down the halls.
"Raph is still getting the dining room set up," Donnie says. "And Mikey's making dinner."
"Mikey is?" April asks, eyes wide, yet nowhere near as wide as her smile. "He's cooking again?"
"We've been practicing a few recipes," Casey announces proudly. "He felt confident enough to try making some of the food tonight."
"Lemme guess... pizza?" April chuckles as she follows the others into the living room to help Raphael set up. "I can't wait for another Mikey original! So, is everybody coming tonight?"
"My mom said she'll be here in a bit," Casey answers as he starts wiping down the table for the fourth time. "Agent Bishop and Honeycutt will be arriving within the next fifteen minutes, I think."
"Pops and Draxum are still waiting for Leo to wrap up his appointment. They're cuttin' it close, but Leo promised to be on time," Raph says as he carries a stack of plates into the room. "Which means he'll be fashionably late again."
Donnie sneers.
"You'd think a guy who can make portals to any place on earth would understand how to be punctual."
"I still can't believe it's been a month," April awes. "Everything flew by so fast!"
"And it doesn't help that the one day at the TCRI felt like a whole week," Raph groans. "Hey, who's in charge of silverware?"
"I got it," Casey offers, running into the kitchen and returning a moment later with the cutlery. "So, Mikey made pizza, Raph made breadsticks, and I made salad."
"I brought mini shish kabobs and dip," April offers, holding up a tupperware with grilled veggies on skewers.
"Sounds great! Mom mentioned bringing brownies..." Casey recalls, "Bishop and the Professor offered to pick up drinks, and Master Splinter and the Baron said they'd grab some Yokai hors d'oeuvre from the Hidden City vendors. So I think we'll be good!"
The group continue to set up the dinner table just as three more guests enter from the subway tunnel.
"I HAVE ARRIVED!!!" Cassandra yells loudly, waving her hockey stick around like a crazed chimpanzee as she runs.
Cass rushes forwards and wraps her arms around CJ as tightly as she can. He reciprocates with a laugh.
"ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ," Fugitoid remarks as he and Bishop walk in next, "ʙᴜᴛ ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴀʟᴍᴇʀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ."
"Hey, Professor!" Casey greets with a smile. "You're looking good. New upgrades?"
"ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄɪɴɢ. ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘꜰᴜʟ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ…"
"Anything for a fan of my work," Dee jokes. "And you've brought drinks. Any flavourless juice?"
"Sorry, just sodas," Bishop says, holding up a few grocery bags filled with large liters of name brand seltzers.
"We can't expect you to be perfect all the time," Donnie grumbles.
"Where's Mikey?" Bishop asks.
"If he heard Cass's war cry, then he should be here any second --"
Almost on cue, Mikey comes bounding out of the kitchen at full speed, pouncing at Cass and zipping around her waist and shoulders in excitement like a hyped-up cat. He eventually perches just above her shoulders, chirping excitedly and giving her a noogie. She laughs as she reaches up and pulls him down, matching his energy and nooging him right back.
Mikey laughs before releasing his hold on her and running over to Bishop and Fugitoid, reacting much more calmly and rising to stand on two legs for them.
"Hi, guys!" he says, a smile growing across his doughy and flour-caked face.
"ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ!" Fugitoid greets. "ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ."
"Thanks! I'm all patched up now, see?" Mikey says as he enthusiastically shows off the large scars on his abdomen and neck. "My only complaint is the physical therapy's boring; but it is helping me to get back into my old hobbies!"
"I see you've taken up cooking?" Bishop asks, pulling a small chunk of sticky dough off Mikey's face.
"Oh, yeah. Whoops! I got a little carried away... but the pizza should be done in a while! Just enough time to talk about stuff and wait for the rest to get here! We can catch up!"
"Yeah, how's it going with the whole TCRI business?" Casey asks as he takes the brownies and sodas into the kitchen, the rest following after him and Mikey.
"Going really well," Bishop nods with a smile. "Which is surprising, considering everything. You'd think an evil corporation would try to hide their misdeeds, but what with all the leadership gone, everyone's turning on each other and revealing the truth!"
"Seriously?" Raph asks, eyes wide. "That's awesome!"
"Why haven't we heard anything about it on the news?" April asks.
"I doubt the local police will let any kind of news about a failed government study get in the public eye," Bishop sighs. "But they're handling it pretty well. Most scientists want to plea bargain, and from what I've heard the TCRI will be completely and permanently shut down within the next few days. Not just the sites stationed in NYC, but all over the globe! Then there's proceedings, court hearings, lawsuits from disgruntled employees for harassment, assault, and unfair work environments, just to name a few."
"Sounds like you have your hands full!" April laughs, moving aside as Mikey skirts behind her to retrieve a bottle of tomato sauce for the pizza.
"ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ!" Fugitoid chimes in. "ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴄʀɪ ɪɴ ꜱʜᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇꜱ ɢᴏᴠᴇʀɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ!"
"And that's where you two come in, hm?" Donnie asks with a smirk.
"I think it's time we rebuilt the Earth Protection Force from the ground up," Bishop nods. "Make it the way it was supposed to be. Something we can actually rely on."
Mikey smiles brightly at the agent as he shreds the cheese over the pizza dough and tomato paste. Though in his distraction, he accidentally spreads the cheese onto the countertop rather than the pizza itself. He hastily scoops up the cheese and sprinkles it back wherever it looks needed.
"Well, you're perfect for the job!" Casey beams.
"And I know a few girl scouts who would be VERY EXCITED to help!" Cass exclaims, forgetting her inside voice for a moment.
"I'll take that under consideration," Bishop responds with a roll of his eyes. "I could use some extra help. There are a lot of bad guys out there..."
"Speaking of," Raph slides in, clearing his throat. "Any updates on a certain 'you know who' and her location?"
"Abigail Finn is still incognito," Bishop sighs. "Though, Donatello's facial tracking system and security measures have helped us to keep a few tabs on her. But she's staying discreet, keeping a low profile and avoiding anything illegal. Which is good."
"Just give me a reason to annihilate her," Donnie whispers to himself. "Or to at least let me go semi-lethal..."
"Have you made any attempts to arrest her?" Casey asks.
"We... considered it," Bishop sighs. "But we felt that it would be better to let it slide. If we did make any attempts, you can bet she'd try to twist the truth and reveal everything she knows about you guys."
"So essentially, you're at a stalemate," Casey grumbles.
"Pretty much. We know dirt on her, she knows dirt on us. So long as we stay out of each others' ways, we're fine."
"ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ?" Fugitoid asks.
"Mostly helpin' with recovery," Raph answers. "In different ways."
"ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ, ᴍɪᴄʜᴇʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ?"
Mikey sighs as he shoves the pizza into the oven. Not a begrudging sigh, but more of a 'where do I start' kind of sigh.
"Well... it's been a lot. First was the whole bedridden thing. Then the physical therapy started. Case was a HUGE help with that, he's an expert on it! And after that... it was a mix of stuff. My memory's gotten better, thanks to Draxum's mystic goop. He said by the rate I'm healing at, all my memories should be back by the end of the month!"
"ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ!" Fugitoid remarks, though the 'mystic goop' comment flies right over his head.
"Yeah... but it's not always easy," Mikey admits. "I have some bad days, a few relapses. Sometimes I still forget names and call one of my brothers by their life-colour instead. Sometimes I talk in the third person instead of the first. Some days I can't talk at all! Walking is... still wacky and tough to get used to. I'm comfortable doing both two legs and four, but I'm faster on four. My vision still acts up, but I've learned to control it a bit better. Dee and I have been training it to shift on command instead of in reaction to light! All in all, adjusting is weird."
"I bet," Bishop nods.
"Wildest thing -- pun intended -- is the whole 'animalistic traits' junk that happens. Like, I still don't get some social cues?" Mikey admits. "Like most people shake hands, but I'll smell or sniff a person first. Most people hug, I climb on them and wrap my whole body around them like a snake. I'll growl if I'm angry. Sometimes I bite when I get startled. Stuff like that."
"Don't forget that one week where you kept making nests all over the lair and storing food in your room," Donnie chimes in.
"I'm just glad you haven't tried to mark your territory or anything," Raph jokes.
Mikey gives him a joking side-glare before continuing.
"Well anyways, it's been weird and confusing but I'm doing a lot better now. I'm really happy again! Which, I'll be honest... surprises me sometimes. The nightmares aren't as constant. They happen, and sometimes I wake up and I don't know where I am. But my family's there to help whenever. I didn't think I'd be this happy this much for a long time... But here we are!"
April starts tearing up out of joy and goes to hug Mikey, who laughs and hugs her back.
"ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ʏᴇᴛ?" Fugitoid wonders.
"One or two," Mikey shrugs. "Though Raph would rather I wait a little longer. I'm kinda glad I kept the mutations, they really help with tracking and stuff -- and the looks on the villains' faces when I start climbing the walls is priceless!" Mikey cackles.
"ᴀɴᴅ… ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛʀᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ?"
"Not as bad," Mikey explains. "Practically gone. Sure, Instinct pops up every once in a while. He really likes to talk during fights and junk. But Raph's been helping me out with him."
Raphael smiles proudly at the mention.
"Therapy's been good too," Mikey continues. "It helps to just... talk it out with someone."
"You've been doing therapy?" Bishop asks in pleasant surprise. "With who? A human therapist?"
"Actually, there's a Yokai clinic in the Hidden City," Mikey smiles. "Draxum recommended it to Leo, and Leo recommend it to all of us."
"Ohhhh, so is that the appointment Casey mentioned?" April asks.
"Yeah," Mikey says with a grin. "I'm really happy that Leo took the initiative to go, that was huge for him. And he's doing a lot better, too!"
Mikey continues to explain their experiences with their therapists as he works with the pizza, pulling it from the oven and sprinkling garlic and herbs into the crust before setting it back in for a few more minutes...
"Leo's therapist has been giving him tips on how to improve his mental health, gain more self-worth, and deal with his own intrusive thoughts. He said I'd like talking to them, so I went in for a sort of trial run. It was... a little awkward at first. The initial couple of sessions were just us getting to know each other and my therapist asking about my family and some hobbies, which I kinda didn't expect at first? I guess I figured that we'd jump right into the issue... But the more we talked, the closer we got and the easier it was for me to open up about my traumas and problems. So, uh, there's that!"
Mikey chuckles as he checks on the pizza again. Five more minutes, maybe... He sighs as he leaps onto the kitchen counter and perches there.
"So, I guess this is our new normal," April notes. "Everything seems to be all wrapped up for the most part."
"Except for one thing," Cassandra grumbles. "The blue turtle and his fathers aren't here yet! I want to eat the pizza already!!"
"It's not even out of the oven," Raph scolds.
"I'LL EAT IT WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Cass shouts, pumping her fists. "I'LL EAT IT STRAIGHT OUT OF THE FIRE! IT'S NO MATCH FOR ME!!"
"Uh-huh, suuuuuuure," April jokes.
"When is Leo getting back, though?" Mikey asks.
"By my calculations, he'll be here in the next three minutes," Donnie declares. "My tracker says he and Papa and Draxum just left the Yokai clinic and should be getting their contributions for dinner right about now."
"Great! They'll arrive just in time for the pizza..."
The group continue talking about whatever they can until Leonardo's portal illuminates the outer room. Warm welcomes, questions on how the session went, how Leo's doing, what Draxum has been up to, and so on until everyone decides that they are starving and sit themselves down for dinner.
The group catch Leo up to the discussion through the salad and appetizers. He huffs at the mention of Dr. Finn. Draxum catches the others up on the recent finishes to his home and how Huginn and Muninn have come back to work for him again.
Fugitoid pretends to eat the food, which causes Casey Jones to snort his soda through his nose and the entire table laughs, even John Bishop.
Mikey uses his mutated tongue to snag an hors d'oeuvre off of Leo's plate when he isn't looking. Splinter sees and snickers loudly, which alerts Leo to Mikey's second and third attempts.
The pizza comes out a few minutes later, hot and ready. The crust is a bit warped and has strange knots, the cheese is mismatched and looks odd, and the toppings are strangely arranged. It's the wackiest-looking flatbread the world has ever seen.
Yet when each guest takes a bite, they are wonderfully surprised. It is quite possibly the most delicious pizza in the world, despite its flaws and outward appearance.
"Mikey, you made this?" Leo asks with shock as he chows down on the slice.
Mikey nods as he eats his own cheesy triangle.
"Wow, dude! This tastes awesome!"
Mikey's smile stretches across his face as Leo pats him on the back.
"You did good, Mikey! You did really good."
The End.
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deoidesign · 4 months
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I can't wait for this to come back!!! >>> when is this coming back?
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moregraceful · 2 months
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my hot take as a person with an english degree and a library degree is that some of the dorkiest fiction and poetry ever committed to paper in the english language came out of the iowa writer's workshop so it is at best goofy and at worst completely futile to argue that your average amazon unlimited writer is having a more deleterious effect on literacy and literature.
#like i know these guys and they are NOT better than booktokers bc they have an mfa in fiction or poetry#in fact. (further hot take) i'd argue many of them are orders of magnitude worse bc they take themselves and their ✨ craft ✨ so seriously#that their work is completely devoid of any authentic human emotion and is merely detached irony trying to mask as social commentary#but the booktok girlies know what they're doing. they're aware! and they're having a great time doing it! they're having fun!#and i have read unfortunately MANY works by mfas that are just like. where is the joy in this? the fear? the sorrow? the honesty???#like yeah booktok is not my thing and it can be pretty silly but most of them aware of the genre they're in and they're having a blast#i've read poetry and fiction by mfas that are grasping so hard to make a Point that they just completely lack genuine and honest emotion#and you can tell the writer just like. did not feel anything urgent or vital about the work they were creating#anyway. follow for more hot takes on the literary establishment#books books books#saying all that i know there is a whole ecosystem of amazon unlimited and booktok writers who are in it strictly for the money#and maybe feel nothing about what they're writing. but they ARE aware of the genre they're in#and to really make it work in amazon unlimited you DO have to have your finger on the pulse of craft wrt genre fiction#whereas i one time in college hateread all of a quote unquote literary writer's works and it was just like#oh you have NO idea that you're just writing complete nonsense#you think you're making a point and have social commentary and every single book is just. incredibly silly#and you would have had a much better and more interesting time if you allowed yourself to write romance novels instead!!
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mymarifae · 2 months
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i finished my replay of undertale the other day and i've never been so at peace in my whole life. papyrus
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cayennecrush · 3 months
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Your Jackie and Evangeline comic is driving me crazy /pos!! Can you tell me a bit more about them?
ahhh THANK U!!! omg though yes yes i definitely can!! lol watch out its a little infodumpy 😂
ok first some basics and portrait sketches:
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Jackie Inoue grew up in california and had a mostly pleasant, uneventful life, until she was accidentally turned by a fugitive vampire in '76. her maker fled the scene after a frantic blood-binge, leaving Jackie behind. without an experienced vampire to help her, Jackie did her best to survive without drawing attention to herself (like, not killing lol). she moved from city to city for several decades, seeking "normalcy' and craving a place to call home... eventually, she lands in a small fictional town along the oregon coast, where our story takes place!
Evangeline has no last name, and no coven.... at least, not anymore. she was born in (current-day) nova scotia in the 1780s to the leader of a necromancer cult. part of her "education" included forbidden spell work that resulted in her immortality. by the mid 1800s, she learned the full truth about her coven and escaped. for a long time she stayed hidden, studying magic and quietly traveling. around 1980, she met Stella in -- you guessed it, our small coastal town! she and Stella became good friends, and Evangeline tentatively settled into a new home for the first time in a long time. then ~20 years later, Jackie arrives and turns Evangeline's life upsidedown again!
because of various magic related reasons, Jackie and Evangeline's relationship has a rocky start, but as they get to know each other, they fall in love and find new ways to enjoy life together 🥰!!
that may be more than u were looking for lol but hey, backstory!
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sugarpasteltmnt · 5 months
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*points aggressively* (and fondly)
HEY. HEY YOU. YEAH YOU. HAPPY FRIGGIN ANNIVERSARY??!!
im proud to say that u are one of my fav authors 😁
ASKAHSDJD THANK YOU???
It seriously snuck up on me. Like. What.
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year
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This is my personal crossover event of the century
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#one of my favorite actors and one of my favorite drivers interacting??? what???#alright whos gonna be the brave soldier and write the matt damon × mark webber rpf fic-#(i read a fic w james bond/seb so imo it really wouldnt be too far off to write Linus Caldwell/Mark LMAO)#ive known abt this event practically since i got into f1 but i feel like my thoughts abt it keep developing every time i look at them again#first time: huh okay wow brad pitt & matt damon taking w mark thats really wild. f1 drivers really do be meeting w high level celebs#after i watched fight club: wow wow!! i cant believe theres pics of brad pitt with mark thats crazy!#after i watched oceans 11: omg wait oh yeah! when mark was in jaguar he was sponsored by oceans 12!!! thats sick!!!#and then recently w my increasing love for Matt Damon: WAIT OH MY GOD MARK HAS INTERACTED WITH MATT!!!! (two worlds colliding feel ig)#but i was watching some interview w matt where they referenced this happening so its relevant in my brain again so i had to post abt it#but of course in the vid the specific pic on screen was him and mark interacting and i died. like seriously i can never escape f1 and mark#mostly im freaking out bcs its truly the crossover event of all time concerning my interests specifically#but the lore behind this is genuinely really really interesting#the fact that theyre promoting a heist movie specifically and then they put a $300k diamond in the nose of the Jaguar#and then the Jaguar crashed during the race and the diamond disappeared?????? cmon literally itself could be the plot to an Oceans movie#RBR/teams sponsored by RB were so much fun back in the day!!#they had several back to back movie promotions which all were pretty fun! just a shame neither team was good back then#it was Oceans 12->SW:ROTS->Superman right? i can't remember if there was another#such a shame that neither mark nor seb were in RBR in 2005 when RBR was promoting ROTS#i think i actually wouldve exploded if there were pics of them w hayden or ewan(my prev fandom haha)#f1#formula 1#formula one#mark webber#matt damon
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