#I've been looking in the mirror and seeing the same but different person

[bowie-amia1]

Oh what now is the adventure we'll go on Dr. Who? Where I will suffer fatigue at tales conclusion...

[sysig]

I also made a card for him (Patreon)

[gfwooyo]

cannot stop thinking about yungi youth mv

[hajimeseyo]

(part 1 here! it's not required for reading this piece, but they are connected, so it'll make more sense if you read the first part first!)

The door to the sewing club slides open with a loud BANG!

“Yo.” A tall, intimidating guy with blond, braided hair strolls in, with all the casualness of someone taking a trip to the convenience store.

You gape wordlessly at him from where you're sitting, still jolted from the lound and sudden bang. Who is this? What does he want?? Has he ever heard of knocking??? 

“Let’s go eat, Mitsuya, I'm hungry as fu– oh, sorry, didn't see you there.” he strides into the room, pausing when he sees you. You can only blankly nod in response, the movement itself almost pure instinct, brain still running on fight or flight mode. 

A light chuckle comes from your right, and you shift your gaze to the lilac haired male sitting next to you. He shoots you a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the blond, now standing in front of him.

“Gimme a moment, yeah? I'm almost done here.” He motions to the school jacket in his hand. Your school jacket, actually. You accidentally ripped it while you were at school, and Mitsuya insisted on helping you fix it, waving away your voiced worries of taking away his precious lunch time. 

He returns to the current task at hand, hands swiftly and fluidly sewing the tear up, masterful after years of practice. Your gaze returns back to the blond guy as he pulls up a chair from one of the nearby tables and plops down across from Mitsuya. They seem familiar with each other, the way both are relaxed in each other’s presence. 

“Oh yeah, this is Draken, by the way. The guy I was telling you about.” Mitsuya pauses briefly from his sewing to introduce the new person in the room. You immediately perk up at the familiar name. Well, that clears up a lot of things.

“Draken? The guy with the matching dragon tattoo?” You ask, eyes alight with intrigue. Draken snorts amusedly. 

“I see you've heard the story.” He turns his head so you can see the familiar dragon tattoo inked into the left side of his head, the exact mirror of Mitsuya's. Your mouth forms into a little ‘o’ at the sight of it. “This tattoo is mine, by the way. Paid for it and everything.”

Another snort, from Mitsuya this time. “Right, I'm sure you paid for it fair and square.” A smile dances on his lips as he continues sewing, eyes focused.

“Hey, who was the one who ate all my rice first?”

“Um, excuse me…” Your voice turns Draken's attention back to you. “If you don't mind, could I take a closer look at your tattoo?” You shyly ask the blonde male. 

His eyebrows raise at the bold request, and you hurriedly add on to your previous question. “It’s just that, I've seen Mitsuya's one before, but I couldn't really get a full view due to his hair covering most of it. It seemed really cool, so…”

The explanation seems to placate him, and he smiles reassuringly, the sight easing some of your nerves. “Yeah, go ahead, knock yourself out.” 

You brighten up at that, immediately moving your seat to Draken’s left and wasting no time in studying every detail of the tattoo.

“Woahh…it’s so different seeing it in its entirety! It really is beautiful…”

“Heh, right? I thought it would’ve been such a shame, leaving such a cool design to stay hidden in some dingy alley, so getting it as a tattoo was a no-brainer. Didn’t expect this guy over here to do the same, though.”

“Hahah, you really made the right decision. It fits you really well!”

“Yeah, and it fit with my name too, y’kno? Draken, dragon. Really helps with making a name for yourself.”

“Ooh, that’s a cool detail!”

As you ooh and aah over the inked dragon on Draken’s head, unconsciously shifting closer and closer to him, you don’t notice how Mitsuya pauses in his work, quietly staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Have you seen the actual mural? It’s way bigger than this tattoo.”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“If you want, I can bring you sometime—”

“[name].” Mitsuya cuts in loudly, both your heads snapping towards him at the sound. He raises the repaired jacket in his hands with a smile that doesn’t really seem to reach his eyes. “The jacket’s done.”

“Oh!” You hop off the stool and gratefully accept the jacket as he walks over to hand it to you, lilac eyes never leaving your figure as you slip your arms through the sleeves, blissfully unaware. “Good as new! Thank you so, so much, Mitsuya.” 

His eyes soften at your sincere words, a warm smile naturally finding its way onto his face at your happy expression. “No problem at all, [name].”

“I’ll get going, then. I don’t wanna take up anymore of both of your lunch time.” you say, turning around to leave. You shoot Draken a wave as you walk past. “Bye, Draken! It was nice meeting you; maybe I’ll take you up on that offer to see the mural sometime.”

“You too, [name]. I’ll see you around.”

Mitsuya coughs lightly, and the sound prompts you to continue moving towards the exit. He follows closely behind you, reaching forward to open the door before you can.

“Thank you again, ‘tsuya.” You say once more, turning to him with a bashful grin. 

He huffs amusedly. “Like I said, it’s no problem at all. You can come to me anytime if you have any problems.” Your lips curl up even more at that, cheeks tinged with the slightest pink.

“Also,” He lets out another light cough, and you can’t help but take note of the way his ears are tinged red, how he suddenly seems to be avoiding your gaze. “You don’t…have to take Draken up on his offer.” he quietly says, words slowly turning into mumbles, the red from his ears slowly spreading to his cheeks. “I can bring you…if you want. And,” His face is fully red at this point, words so quiet you had to lean in to hear them. “if you want to look at the tattoo up close, you can just look at mine anytime…” he trails off, eyes looking anywhere but you.

You gape at him. This was something you definitely weren’t expecting. Despite your surprise, you can’t stop the giddy smile spreading across your face, giggling as you try to hold back your teasing. He’s already flustered enough; you suppose you’d spare him, just this once.

“Okay then.” You wave at him as you step out, eyes twinkling with mirth. “See you, ‘tsuya!”

Mitsuya watches your figure go until you disappear from his sight, sighing in relief and slight disbelief as he closes the door to the club. He hadn’t really planned on saying that, but the words just… slipped out. Something about the way you looked at him made them bubble up until he couldn’t contain them any longer. At least your reaction was positive.

He turns around, fully prepared to put the whole thing behind him, only to be greeted with a razor-sharp grin. Draken wiggles his eyebrows at him, looking like a cat that just caught its prey.  “So…someone got jealous, huh?”

Mitsuya lets out a suffering groan. “Please. Don’t tell anyone. You didn’t see anything.”

Draken cackles. “Maybe I’ll consider it if you buy me a karubi don.”

He’s so telling everyone. 

[nvuy]

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

[moldybonessmell]

"Deadpool and Wolverine": queercoding analysis of Poolverine in the movie

// SPOILERS

//Disclaimer: This is NOT a hate post to Vanessa/Wade shipp, but if you ship them, this post is probably not for you.

I've seen a few queerbaiting allegations and, frankly, don't agree with them. Now I'll explain why.

Starting with the fact that movie begins as a typical reasoning for a character to get a new love interest: we find out Wade and Vanessa broke up after roughly 7-8 years together.

Either we don't know (or I just don't remember lol) for how long they've been separate, but it was enough time for Vanessa to get in a new relationship.

And we know that the reason for this breakup is the core differences between the two. In the previous movie they wanted to get a child and Wade's entire motivation was based around Vanessa. In this movie tho, it seems like even if Wade is still not completely over breakup, he seems to be compliant with the fact they are not together anymore. You would expect Wade to go and do something silly to Nessa's new guy, but he doesn't. He respects her decidion.

Wade has more of an existentioal crisis than just hurting from the breakup. So I would assume he's not over because he feels like he messed up and keeps giving sad puppy eyes holding on this romantic relationship with Vanessa. Tho they are still soulmates and friends no matter what.

I don't know about you, but for me this exposition doesn't look like a foreshadowing of Vanessa and Wade getting back together. Vanessa is happy and self-actualised on her own, even if Wade is not.

I don't see Wade trying to change as an act of trying to get back with Vanessa. He reacts like this because his family member pointed out his flaws.

Secondly, the only other "hints" for a relationship between Wade and Vanessa is him remembering how they kissed and in the end Vanessa holding Wade's hand. Which, let me point out, is not a typical trope to show characters are back together. You know what's typical? A KISS! Which never happened btw.

Not to be this person, but we all know Disney/Marvel haven't got the balls to show a canon queer relationship. So the only "hints" for Vanessa/Wade seem to either read as platonic, or purely as an attempt of Disney to be like !look! female love interest!.

Now, other important part. If you really think about it, referencing the first part of the post, the movie follows an enemies-to lovers romantic movie formula:

(optional) breakup with previous partner;

annoyance first (previous deadpool movies);

admiration upon actual meeting (even if Wade acts cocky, when you listen to him telling the story about how his universe's Logan saved Laura, you can clearly see he adores the hero, who, as we know, is relatively similar throughout multiverse. Wade knows this Logan has the same morals as other ones, hearing how he regrets not being able to help his x-men);

"having to" go on an adventure/quest together even tho they are annoyed at each other;

enemies bickering and fighting because they have differences (which are actually similarities between the two which drive them insane when they see this mirroring);

the breaking point and confrontation (the Logan monologue in the car scene);

*the close proximity tention* hate fucking as a spicy way to get over the argument (in the car scene they are shown to fight just for the sake of letting out steam);

the cold period when characters ignore each other because they are still pissed (when Laura got the two to her base);

getting over it and working together, trusting that the other got their back;

saving the world with the power of love brotherhood with romantic soundtrack on;

both staying alive and having a heart-to-heart conversation;

one wants to leave, but the other stops them (usually it would be followed up with a kiss but oh well);

officially meeting a parental figure of one of the characters and moving in together as in an established relationship.

I don't think I'm delusional if I say I haven't seen brotherhood media (ones without queerbaiting or actual siblings) that would follow this formula. But I did see romantic storylines.

All in all, Wade and Logan go through a development and establishment of a relationship. And I'm not even talking about the obvious "one being there when other lost everything and giving them a new family and home".

In the movie there are so many romantic tropes of these CANONICALLY QUEER CHARACTERS, which make it safe to assume that queercoding is in fact happening. I would argue about it if both of them were straight in the source material, but this is the best and most important part, they are not :)

And this is why "Deadpool & Wolverine" is actually a romcom. Thank you for reading!

[andy-wm]

Jikook - The Fan Service Professionals

These two are such pros when it comes to fan service, they even practice behind the scenes. Dedication with a capital D! Even during the height of Covid, when there were no performances on the horizon, they were diligently keeping up the charade.

The newly released Bangtan Bomb of the BE Skit recording is a great example...

It is 2020, JK's birthday, and the Billboard #1 win for Dynamite has just been announced. Five of the guys file into a recording studio and sit down. Namjoon leaves an obvious gap next to Jimin.

JK arrives a few minutes later and takes his place... next to Jimin.

The group discusses the fact that the Billboard win was announced on JK's birthday and that he clearly needs no more gifts. What happens next is interesting...

JK tells them he received the best gift of his life and Jimin speaks for the first time since JK entered the room, jumping in to say "We're recording Skit, right?"

I've never seen anyone change the subject with such haste as this. In fact i might go so far as to say the way Jimin interrupted was ...almost rude! (But not really rude, because.. .he's Jimin)

But I digress...

The producer tells Jimin they're already recording and Jimin glances furtively at the microphone to confirm. Yes, the red light is on, it is indeed recording.

He laughs and slaps his thigh. Something must be really funny because he continues to laugh behind his hand, which is SUCH a tell for when he's embarrassed.

Long after everyone else has moved on, Jimin is still smiling to himself.

Maybe it's because JK just announced to the world that he got the best birthday gift OF HIS LIFE.

But he didn't specify what it was. He didn't say it was the Billboard win. And it looks like that birthday gift went on all night because the boy is clearly exhausted.

Anyway, moving on...

They start practicing their "fan service routine" at this point:

Without a word being exchanged between them, Jimin stands up and gives JK space to change his position. He then sits down next to JK and adopts the exact same position, with folded legs. Tick the box for mirroring behaviour

The next part of routine is connecting through touch - you know - how genuine couples touch each other as a way of checking in? Yeah like that. (Somehow I see caressing a person with your knuckles as more intimate than using your palm, but maybe that's just me)

And then there's a different type of touch - that body contact that comes with intimacy and familiarity. When you're a new couple this type of thigh touch can be very titilating but when you've been together for a while it's more comforting than sexy (although there's definitely an element of sexy too). At this point they are barely interacting, aside from Jimin's arm draped over JK's thigh and his fingers resting casually on JK's shin like it's his own personal armrest... he's certainly covering all the bases on that leg.

uuummm... okay, well played Jikook...

10/10 fan service here I guess.

Anything else that might have happened in this 'practice session' was lost on the cutting room floor, but one thing is for certain... neither Jimin nor JK got a wink of sleep on the night of JK's birthday.

Some may say it's because of the BB #1 win but I don't see any of the other guys in such a state of disarray as these two.

One thing that is obvious though:

Whatever the two of them were celebrating, they went at it all night long.

*cue Barry White*

[mrsfancyferrari]

Destiny's Will

Summary: You and Carlos were childhood friends until you two were separated before he got to F1. The next time they meet, they're enemies.

Song: Under The Influence by Chris Brown

Author’s note: This might be the longest story I've written! I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Warning: sex scenes at the end. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 18.6k

You and Carlos had been inseparable as childhood friends, spending countless hours playing and exploring together, until your parents had to move and you were separated. It was a painful time for both of you, as you mourned the loss of your dear friend.

You both knew that life would take you on different paths, but you were determined to find Carlos again.

Years went by, and you grew into your own person. While Carlos pursued his dreams in F1, you dedicated yourself to studying mechanics. You knew that being with Carlos would require you to be by his side, and you were determined to find a way for that to happen.

Fate had a different plan in store for you. One day, McLaren, one of the most prestigious teams in F1, offered you a job. It was an unexpected turn of events, but it felt like a sign that your paths were destined to cross again.

With this opportunity, you realized that not only would you have the chance to work in the same industry as Carlos, but you could also potentially be reunited with your childhood friend.

The excitement and hope filled your heart as you eagerly accepted the job offer, knowing that this was the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you couldn't resist.

However, little did you know that this decision would make you an enemy to Carlos. . . .

Today, you were going to get a tour of the paddock and the McLaren's garage.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nerves. You wore a sleek black McLaren team jacket, proudly displaying the team's logo on your chest.

Underneath, you had chosen a crisp white shirt, symbolizing your dedication to professionalism and attention to detail.

Completing the ensemble were tailored black pants and polished leather shoes, reflecting your commitment to excellence in every aspect of your life.

Adjusting your tie one last time, you took a deep breath and reminded yourself that today was not just about impressing your colleagues, but also about showing Carlos that you had made something of yourself too.

As you looked at the bracelet that you wore, a surge of nostalgia washed over you. You remembered the day you and Carlos made those bracelets for each other, promising to always stay connected no matter where life took you. It was a symbol of your unbreakable bond and the unwavering friendship you shared.

When you heard the honk of your Uber, you quickly left your apartment, excitedly locking the door behind you. As you settled into the car, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation building up.

The ride to the paddock was filled with thoughts of what the day would bring, wondering if you would have a chance encounter with Carlos and how he would react to seeing you in the McLaren team jacket. . . .

As you walked through the bustling paddock, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and excitement. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of engines roaring filled the air, creating an atmosphere of adrenaline and anticipation.

You couldn't wait to see the state-of-the-art equipment and meet the talented engineers who made it all possible.

Stepping into the McLaren's garage, you were greeted by a symphony of metallic clinks and the sight of mechanics working diligently on the sleek race cars. The precision and attention to detail were evident in every corner, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that you were now a part of his world.

As you stood in awe of the McLaren garage, a staff member approached you and introduced themselves as Sarah, the tour guide assigned to show you around.

"Welcome to McLaren! We're thrilled to have you here," she said enthusiastically. "Let me show you our state-of-the-art facilities and introduce you to some of the talented engineers who make it all happen."

You followed Sarah, eager to soak in every detail and seize this opportunity to learn from the best in the industry.

As you walked together, Sarah pointed out various areas of the garage, explaining the intricate processes involved in preparing the race cars for competition. You listened attentively, asking questions and marveling at the level of expertise displayed by the mechanics.

The conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie as Sarah shared stories of her own journey within the team.

It was clear that everyone at McLaren shared a passion for excellence and a dedication to pushing the boundaries of what was possible in the world of motorsport.

"Since you are assigned to be Lando's engineer," Sarah stated, "you will have to be able to keep a professional relationship with him. It's important to establish clear boundaries and maintain a focus on your responsibilities. However, don't worry, Lando is a great guy to work with, and I'm sure you'll build a strong working relationship with him."

You nodded, taking in Sarah's advice and feeling a renewed sense of determination to excel in your role as Lando's engineer.

As you listened to Sarah's advice, a flood of memories rushed back to your mind. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered the days when you and Lando were childhood friends, racing go-karts together and dreaming of one day making it big in the world of motorsport with Carlos.

Despite the professional boundaries that now needed to be established, you were grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with an old friend and work alongside him in this prestigious team.

Deep down, you knew that your shared history would only strengthen the bond between you, both on and off the track.

"Oh there he is, Lando Norris," Sarah said, seeing him talking to Oscar in the room.

As you looked over at Lando, you couldn't help but notice how much he had grown since those go-karting days. He carried himself with a newfound confidence and maturity, a testament to the years of hard work and dedication he had put into his racing career.

Gone were the boyish features and wide-eyed enthusiasm, replaced by the steely determination of a seasoned professional.

Yet, despite the changes, there was still a spark in Lando's eyes that reminded you of the child who would stay up all night discussing racing strategies and dreaming of victory.

It was a reminder that, underneath the polished exterior, he was still the same passionate and driven individual you had known all those years ago.

His eyes then went to you as his name was called, his eyes flicked from identifying you to recognizing you, and a wide smile spread across his face.

It was a heartwarming moment as you saw the genuine excitement and warmth in his eyes, confirming that the bond you once shared as childhood friends was still alive and well.

"Lando, this is-" Sarah tried to introduce you but there was no need. You already knew each other too well to forget.

"Y/N! What the hell?" Lando yelled in excitement, running towards you and leaving Oscar in a flash.

Sarah was shocked when Lando had said your name, looking at you for some explanation. She looked at you, waiting for an explanation as to how you knew each other so well.

As Lando reached you, he enveloped you in a bear hug, lifting you off the ground for a moment. The familiar warmth and strength of his embrace instantly transported you back to the countless playful wrestling matches you had as kids.

It was a nostalgic reminder of the unbreakable bond that had formed between you, a bond that had withstood the test of time and distance.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewildered expression. "Surprise," you said, flashing a mischievous grin. "Lando and I go way back. Childhood friends, in fact."

"Y/N! I can't believe you're here!" Lando repeated, his pitch getting higher with excitement.

"Lando, it's so great to see you too," you said, returning his hug with equal enthusiasm. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to come and support you at such a momentous race. Plus, I wanted to see the incredible racer you've become with my own eyes."

Lando beamed at your words, his eyes shining with gratitude and excitement.

"I can't wait to catch up and hear all about your journey," you added, knowing that there were countless stories and experiences to share since the last time you saw each other.

"So you were the new engineer that graduated from that rich school huh?"

"I've gotten some skills under my sleeves," You smirked, giving out your hand. "It's nice working with you Mr. Norris."

Lando looked disguised at your formalities to him, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter at his reaction. "Mr. Norris? Seriously?" he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Come on, Y/N, we're way past that. Just call me Lando, like you always did."

You chuckled and nodded, realizing that no matter how much time had passed, some things would never change between the two of you. "Alright, Lando, you got it. Let's get to work and show them what we're capable of."

"Oh Oscar, come over to meet my childhood friend Y/N!" Lando called over Oscar, who looked shy but intrigued.

You extended your hand and gave him a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, Oscar. I have heard so much about you. We're going to make a great team."

Oscar's shyness melted away as he shook your hand, and he replied, "I'm looking forward to it, Y/N. Lando speaks highly of you."

As you and Lando started reminiscing about your childhood adventures, Oscar's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Tell me more! What kind of mischief did you two get into?" he asked eagerly.

You and Lando exchanged mischievous grins before launching into a series of stories, recounting the epic treehouse battles, daring bike stunts, and secret hideouts that defined your friendship.

Oscar listened intently, captivated by the bond you both shared and excited to be a part of the team.

"Have you met Carlos? I knew you were very close to him before you had to move," Lando asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"Actually, I haven't had the chance to meet Carlos yet," you replied, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. "We lost touch after I moved, but I'm glad to hear that you've stayed close. How is he?"

"I'm sure he'd love to catch up with you," Lando said with a smile. "He's doing well since he moved to being in Ferrari. You should find out yourself, Y/N. I know he would be thrilled to reconnect with you."

"I will, when the time comes," you said, understanding the importance of not distracting Carlos before an important race.

"Today is all about getting to know the team and settling into our new roles. But I'm definitely looking forward to catching up with Carlos and hearing about his experiences in Ferrari."

You spent the rest of the day learning about McLaren's garage. The McLaren garage is a state-of-the-art facility that houses the team's cars, equipment, and personnel.

It is a highly organised and efficient workspace, designed to maximise the team's performance on the track.

The garage is divided into several distinct areas, each with a specific function. The main work area is where the mechanics and engineers work on the cars, making adjustments and repairs as needed. There is also a separate area for the pit crew, who are responsible for the lightning-fast tyre changes during pit stops.

The garage also features a dedicated area for the team's data analysis, where engineers pore over telemetry and other data to identify areas for improvement.

The attention to detail and the level of organisation in the McLaren garage is truly impressive, and it is clear that the team leaves no stone unturned in their pursuit of success. . . . .

After the race, you went up to Lando to congratulate him on getting on the podium.

"Lando, that was an incredible drive! You really showed your talent out there today," You said, giving him a hug.

Lando smiled, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the race. "Thanks Y/N. The team has worked so hard, and it's great to be able to deliver a podium for them."

"You were so composed under pressure, especially towards the end when you were defending that position. It must have been nerve-wracking, but you handled it brilliantly," You commented, impressed by his mature performance.

Lando nodded. "It wasn't easy, but I just focused on hitting my marks and not making any mistakes. The car felt great, and I knew if I could just keep it together, I had a shot at the podium."

"Well, you more than delivered. This is just the start for you, I'm sure. With performances like that, the sky's the limit. Congratulations again, Lando. You should be very proud of yourself today," You said, giving him a warm pat on the back.

Carlos had gotten 2nd place, which you were extremely happy about. He had put in so much hard work and dedication, and it was wonderful to see that effort pay off. As he was bombarded with interviews, you tried to talk to him, to offer your congratulations and share in his success.

However, the throngs of reporters and cameras made it difficult to get a moment alone with him. You could see the pride and excitement on his face, and it filled you with joy to witness his achievement. Even though you couldn't speak with him directly, just being there to support him meant the world.

As Lando stepped up to the podium, the opening notes of the British national anthem began to play. A hush fell over the stadium as the crowd rose to their feet, placing their hands over their hearts in a show of respect and national pride.

The stirring melody filled the air, evoking a sense of tradition and history that resonated deeply with the British athletes and spectators alike.

Carlos was second place and looked proud of himself as he looked over at the crowd. He had given it his all during the competition and was pleased with the result. The hard work and dedication he had put in over the past months had paid off.

As Carlos stood on the podium, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He knew that coming in second place was no small feat, and he was grateful for the opportunity to showcase his skills. The crowd's cheers and applause filled him with a surge of pride, and he couldn't wait to celebrate his achievement with his team and loved ones.

You were in the crowd, supporting Lando, but your eyes were fixed on Carlos the whole time.

Carlos has always been a handsome man, even from a young age. His chiselled jawline and piercing brown eyes have always been captivating, drawing the attention of those around him.

As he has matured, his features have only become more refined and attractive.

Now, in his later years, Carlos' good looks have only improved. His once youthful features have developed a distinguished, sophisticated air about them. The slight lines around his eyes only serve to enhance his rugged charm, making him all the more alluring.

It is clear that Carlos has aged gracefully, his natural handsomeness only growing more pronounced with time.

You've always had a crush on him, ever since you two were young. There was just something about him that captivated you - his kind eyes, his infectious laugh, the way he carried himself with such confidence. Even back then, you found yourself drawn to him, stealing glances when you thought he wasn't looking.

And now, seeing him face-to-face again after all these years, those feelings have only grown stronger. The way he smiles, the sound of his voice, the little mannerisms you had never forgotten - it's all flooding back, and you can feel your heart racing.

You find yourself falling for him all over again, and you can't help but wonder if he feels the same way too. . . .

Carlos stood on the podium, a wide grin spreading across his face as he gazed out at the crowd. His eyes scanned the sea of faces.

He remembered the time when they were young and he came in second place, and you were there cheering me on like a madman.

He couldn't help but chuckle, the memory flooding back to him. "How could I forget?" he muttered to himself.

When the results were announced, you threw your arms around him. "Second place, you legend! I'm so proud of you."

He looked at you, eyes shining. "Thanks, my friend but I wish I had gotten first place for you,"

Your face blushed at his words, a mix of joy and embarrassment washing over you. "Oh Carlos, you don't have to do that. Just having you here, seeing you succeed, is enough for me," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

"Just make sure you're here when I get first place okay?"

"Of course! I'll always be by your side!"

It was one of the last races you saw of Carlos and you were there with him to cheer for him all the way to the finish line . . .

He continued to scan the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face until they suddenly caught someone else's eyes.

His eyes widened in surprise as he tried to identify them, but he was certain that it was you. Memories of your shared past came rushing back, and a mix of emotions flooded over him - excitement, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of nervousness.

Your features were still the same from when you were young. Your bright, expressive eyes had the same warm, captivating gaze that had always drawn people in. The gentle curves of your face, the delicate structure of your cheekbones and jawline, remained unchanged, giving you a timeless beauty.

Even the small, unique details - the faint freckles dusting your nose, the slight upturn of your lips when you smiled - were exactly as they had been years ago, a testament to your enduring allure.

Time had done nothing to diminish the striking, natural elegance that had always been a part of you.

When our eyes met, your face fell as you realized he was staring at you. The intensity of his gaze caught you off guard, sending a shiver down your spine.

In that moment, you felt exposed, like he could see right through you. His unwavering stare made you suddenly self-conscious, unsure of how to react. The tension hung heavy in the air, leaving you feeling uneasy and uncertain.

You knew instinctively that he would stop at nothing to track you down and locate your whereabouts.

No matter how hard you tried to evade his search, you were acutely aware that his unwavering resolve would lead him directly to you.

You weren’t ready to face him, to face his younger self, who just wants to yell at you for leaving him at his worst moment. . . .

When the podium celebration was over, the McLaren team went into the garage to celebrate more for Lando's win. The team was ecstatic and filled with joy after seeing their driver secure a well-deserved victory.

Inside the garage, the mechanics, engineers, and the entire crew gathered to congratulate Lando and toast to the team's success. It was a moment of pure elation as they savored the triumph and looked forward to more victories in the future.

You were walking to the celebration when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. You whirled around, startled, ready to defend yourself.

But then you recognized the person - it was Carlos.

Carlos was still a sight to behold, even as the years had passed. His features had only grown more refined and distinguished with time. Standing just a few centimeters away, one couldn't help but be captivated by the striking symmetry of his face.

His strong jawline and chiseled cheekbones gave him an air of rugged masculinity, while his deep, soulful eyes conveyed an intensity that was both alluring and compelling. The subtle lines that had formed around those eyes only served to lend him an air of wisdom and experience, a testament to the life he had lived.

His full, sensual lips remained as tempting as they had been in their youth, beckoning to be kissed.

Even his brown messy hair added to his undeniable charisma, a visual representation of the maturity and refinement that now graced his appearance.

"Carlos, I... I didn't expect to see you here," You stammered, caught off guard by Carlos' sudden appearance. The words tumbled out hesitantly, as you struggled to regain your composure.

Carlos spoke quickly, his tone rushed and urgent. "Y/N L/N, it is you. I wasn’t being delusional. I'm sorry, I just - I had to come to see. I couldn't stay away any longer."

I felt my heart racing, unsure of how to respond. "Carlos-"

“Hey guys, what’s going on here, a family reunion?” Lando said, coming out of the corner and unaware of the tension.

“You knew?” Carlos asked his best friend, clearly offended that this was hidden.

“Of course I knew, she’s my engineer, I have to know her,“ Lando stated as he stood beside you, “Well I knew today but we all have history don’t we?”

Carlos was still in shock at your sudden appearance. We had been close friends when we were young, but you had disappeared years ago. Now, here you are, unexpectedly reappearing as Lando's engineer.

Carlos couldn't believe his eyes. After all this time, you had suddenly reemerged, and in such an unexpected role. Carlos struggled to process what was happening, as you stood before him, once again a part of his life, but in a completely new capacity.

The reunion was undoubtedly surprising and disorienting for Carlos. Just the sight of me, after so long, was enough to leave him reeling. It was as if the past had come rushing back, bringing with it a whirlwind of emotions and questions.

“I’d hate to ruin your reunion but I’ve got a win to celebrate and the team wants to toast our lucky charm,” Lando explained, gesturing to you with a smile. “But you two have the dinner to talk,”

Lando didn’t even give you time to say goodbye before dragging you away.

When you looked back to even get a glimpse of him, Carlos' eyes locked onto your, burning with a raw, primal desire. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, igniting a spark deep within you. His eyes smoldered with an unspoken hunger, yearning to devour you wholly.

There was a wild, untamed quality to his stare that made your breath catch in your throat. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing against you, electrifying every nerve.

You must have seen his expressions wrong because there was no way he liked you or desired you in that way.

The McLaren crew and Lando welcomed you with open arms, and you spent the rest of the night celebrating Lando’s win together. Over drinks and laughter, you got to know the team on a more personal level, gaining insights into their passions, aspirations, and the camaraderie that fuels their success.

It was a night filled with shared stories, friendly banter, and a genuine sense of excitement for the future. As the evening drew to a close, you felt a deeper connection to the McLaren family, inspired by their dedication and the palpable energy that permeated the room.

It was an unforgettable experience, and you couldn't help but feel honored to have been a part of it.

As you unlocked the door to your apartment, a wave of guilt washed over you. It was in this moment that you recalled how you had abruptly disappeared from Carlos' life without any explanation.

The weight of your actions settled heavily on your conscience, and you couldn't help but feel remorseful for leaving him in the dark. The realization hit you hard, and you knew that you had to find a way to make amends for the pain you had caused.

But with no contact information for Carlos, you were left feeling helpless and unsure of how to reach out to him.

No matter how hard you tried to focus on the data in front of you, Carlos's presence lingered in your thoughts like an unwelcome guest.

Each line of code and every spreadsheet cell seemed to remind you of his piercing gaze, his touch, and the unspoken tension between you. It was as if the numbers and figures on the screen were mocking your attempts to escape the memories of that night.

As you scrolled through the data, a mix of longing and regret washed over you, fueling a desire to find a way to reconnect with Carlos and make things right.

But with each passing minute, the task of finding his contact information felt more daunting and elusive, leaving you in a state of uncertainty and longing.

You'll see him at the group dinner. You'll explain everything to him at the dinner party. You tried to reassure yourself but it didn't reduce the thoughts of Carlos hating you even more.

You rehearsed the words over and over in your mind, hoping that they would come out just right when you finally saw Carlos at the group dinner. You wanted to apologize, to explain yourself, and to make things right between the two of you.

But deep down, a part of you feared that your words would fall on deaf ears, that Carlos would never be able to forgive you for what you had done.

The thought of facing him at the group dinner filled you with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, as you prepared yourself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead.

There were two possible outcomes that weighed heavily on your mind as you prepared for the conversation with Carlos at the group dinner.

Either he would listen to your explanation and find it in his heart to forgive you, or he would remain resentful and unwilling to give you a second chance.

The uncertainty of which path the conversation would take only intensified your anxiety, leaving you on edge as you awaited the moment when you would finally face Carlos.

You just hoped that he would listen to you with an open heart and give you the opportunity to express your remorse.

You knew that words alone might not be enough to mend the broken trust between you, but you were willing to try anything to salvage what was left of your relationship with Carlos. . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you stood in front of the mirror, examining the various necklaces laid out on your dresser, you couldn't help but feel a wave of indecision wash over you.

Should you go for the delicate silver pendant that your mom had given you on your last year? Or perhaps the bold statement necklace that always seemed to catch everyone's attention?

The weight of the decision felt overwhelming, as if the necklace you choose could somehow determine the outcome of the conversation you were about to have with Carlos.

As a knock came on your door, Lando's voice came through, breaking your train of thought. "Hey, are you ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

You turned away from the mirror and walked towards the door and opening it for him, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. "Almost," you replied, trying to hide your indecision. "Just give me a few more minutes."

Lando nodded understandingly, and you couldn't help but wonder if he could sense the weight of the decision you were about to make.

As you glanced back at the mirror, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that this choice was more than just about a piece of jewelry. It symbolized your inner struggle and the uncertainty of the path ahead.

The weight of the decision seemed to hang in the air, intertwining with your emotions, as you knew that whatever necklace you chose would carry a piece of your heart into that conversation with Carlos.

"I would pick the silver necklace, if that's what you're debating about," Lando commented as he leaned against the wall.

"Thanks Lando! We can go now," You replied, quickly clipping the necklace and grabbing your handbag before heading for Lando's car.

As you sat in the passenger seat of Lando's car, the nervous energy in the air was palpable. The drive to the restaurant felt like a journey into the unknown, not just because of the impending conversation with Carlos, but also because you were about to reunite with the other drivers who were once your childhood friends.

Memories flooded your mind as you thought about the times you spent racing through the streets, laughing and dreaming together.

But now, things were different. Would they still see you as the same person? Would they understand the choices you've made and the struggles you've faced?

These questions swirled in your mind, adding to the already overwhelming weight of the decision you had made in choosing the silver necklace.

Meeting them now, with the weight of your decision hanging over you, felt like a moment of truth - a chance to showcase who you had become and how far you had come.

As the car pulled up to the restaurant, you took a deep breath, clutching the silver necklace for strength, and stepped out into the unknown, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As you walked into the restaurant with Lando, a staff member guided you to the reserved area where your childhood friends were gathered.

The familiar faces brought a mix of comfort and anticipation, but you couldn't help notice the absence of Carlos, Charles, Oscar and more.

Their absence added an extra layer of uncertainty to the already weighty decision you had made, leaving you wondering how their reactions would shape the conversation to come.

"No way, is that Y/N?" Max yelled as soon as he saw you, being one of your childhood friends.

The excitement in his voice eased some of the tension you were feeling, and you couldn't help but smile, knowing that at least one person was genuinely happy to see you.

Max rushed over to you, his eyes wide with excitement. "Guys, you won't believe who just walked in!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards you.

As the rest of the group turned their heads, Max introduced you one by one, each of them greeting you with warm smiles and expressions of surprise. The atmosphere shifted from uncertainty to familiarity as you engaged in lively conversation, reminiscing about the good old times and catching up on each other's lives.

It was a heartwarming reunion that reaffirmed the deep bond you all shared, reminding you that despite the choices and struggles you had faced, your friendship remained intact.

"Sorry we're late," Charles' voice came through the restaurant and everyone turned around to see them. Their arrival brought a mix of relief and anxiety, as you wondered how they would react to your presence.

As you turned to look at Carlos, your heart skipped a beat. He was wearing a crisp white shirt that accentuated his tan skin, paired with dark jeans and brown leather shoes. His hair was neatly styled, and a silver watch adorned his wrist.

The sight of him brought back a flood of memories, and you couldn't help but notice the slight curve of his lips as he caught your gaze.

It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that his presence could either strengthen the bond you once shared or further complicate the weighty decision you had made.

As you locked eyes with Carlos, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, unsure of what his reaction would be.

You followed Carlos with your eyes to his seat, which happened to be right in front of you at the table.

As you settled better into your chair, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in the air. Carlos glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention to the conversation at hand.

The aroma of the freshly cooked dishes filled the air as the waitstaff brought out steaming plates of food, placing them in front of each person. The sight of the delicious spread added to the already palpable tension in the room, as everyone's focus shifted from conversation to the culinary delights before them.

As the group began to dig into their meals, the clinking of cutlery against plates filled the space, momentarily breaking the small silence that had settled over the table.

With each stolen glance from Carlos, you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through his mind. His eyes seemed to hold a mix of curiosity, longing, and perhaps a hint of regret, leaving you even more uncertain about the impact of your presence on this reunion.

You decided to break the tension by joining the conversation with Lando and Max, discussing the latest Formula 1 race and sharing your own insights. As you spoke, you noticed Carlos listening intently, his eyes flickering between you and the other two.

As you engaged in the conversation with Lando and Max, the room seemed to come alive with energy.

The three of you exchanged ideas, shared laughter, and debated passionately about the race. Carlos, though still observing from afar, seemed captivated by your animated discussion, his eyes betraying a mix of admiration and intrigue.

When the last morsel of food was taken away, you finally mustered the courage to break the tension. With a subtle gesture, you motioned for Carlos to follow you away from the table.

He looked momentarily surprised, but nodded in agreement and followed you. As you walked towards a quieter corner of the room, you could feel your heart pounding, unsure of what would transpire in this private conversation.

The moment had come for you to address the unresolved emotions and confront the weighty decision that had brought you both here.

You turned around, and for a brief moment, you were able to admire Carlos. His face, usually stoic and unreadable, now held a hint of vulnerability mixed with determination. His eyes, deep and intense, seemed to search for answers within your gaze.

The way he carried himself spoke of a man accustomed to command and control, yet there was a softness to his demeanor that you had never seen before.

With a deep breath, you began the conversation, ready to confront the emotions and decisions that had brought you both to this pivotal moment.

"First of all, I want to say that I'm sorry for leaving you before without any answers," you started, unable to look into his eyes. "I never meant to hurt you, Carlos. It's just that... I was confused and scared."

"It's okay Cariño, you being here is all that matters to me," Carlos said, his voice filled with sincerity and understanding. "I've missed you so much, and I just want to hear what you have to say."

As you quickly looked up at the nickname he used, the same one that he used to call you before you left, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you. It was a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared.

You smiled at his choice of words, realizing that despite the time and distance apart, a part of him still held onto the memories and feelings that had brought you together in the first place.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and began recounting the events that had transpired since the day you left with your parents.

From the sacrifices you made to pursue your dreams of becoming an engineer, to the challenges you faced in your journey, you poured your heart out to Carlos. He listened intently, hanging onto every word, as you shared how your hard work and dedication led you to the opportunity of a lifetime - being hired by McLaren as Lando's engineer.

As you spoke, you could see the admiration in his eyes, mixed with a hint of pride for your achievements. The weight of your decision and the emotions that surrounded it slowly lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and hope for what the future held for both of you.

The more you shared, the more you realized how much you had missed having him by your side.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, as if no time had passed, and it seemed that both of you were willing to confront the emotions and decisions that had brought you to this pivotal moment.

"Wow Y/N, it looks like you've been through a lot," he said after you finished talking. "I can't imagine how challenging it must have been for you."

As he spoke those words, tears welled up in your eyes, catching you by surprise. No one had ever shown such genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles before.

The tears were a release of all the pent-up emotions you had carried within you for so long, a testament to the profound impact Carlos had on your heart.

In that moment, you realized that you had found someone who truly cared about your happiness and well-being, and it filled you with gratitude and a deep sense of connection.

You were brought into a warm embrace, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, and you felt a sense of safety and comfort that you hadn't experienced in years.

As the tears continued to flow, you could feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, a rhythmic reminder that you were not alone. All the pain, the sacrifices, and the uncertainties faded away, replaced by a profound feeling of being understood and cherished.

After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice filled with a mix of pain and hope. "I've missed you every day since you left," he repeated, his vulnerability echoing in the quiet corner of the room.

You took a deep breath and held onto his embrace a little tighter, feeling the weight of his words. With tears still streaming down your face, you whispered, "I missed you too, Carlos. More than you'll ever know."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you both stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the presence and comfort that only each other could provide. The outside world faded away as you reveled in the joy of being reunited and the realization that this was where you were meant to be.

The tears of both pain and happiness continued to flow, but they were now accompanied by a sense of renewed hope and a shared understanding that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

After you then realized that you had spent more than an hour away from the group, you quickly moved out of the embrace, embarrassed of taking so much of Carlos' time.

"I'm so sorry," you stammered, wiping away the tears. "I didn't mean to keep you for so long. We should probably go back now."

Carlos gently held your hand and smiled, "Don't worry about it. This time with you is more important to me than anything else."

You smiled back at Carlos, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "Thank you for understanding," you said softly. "It means the world to me to have someone like you in my life."

As you and Carlos continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared memories, and genuine connection. It was as if no time had passed since you last saw each other.

The more you talked, the more you realized how much you had missed his presence in your life. Finally, mustering up the courage, you asked Carlos if you could have his number to stay in touch.

Without any hesitation, he smiled and gladly gave it to you, expressing his own desire to keep the connection alive.

"Should we join the others now?" You asked reluctantly.

"Cariño, I only came here to talk to you. We can do whatever you'd like."

"Even. . ."

That's when you woke up in your bed, the remnants of the dream still clinging to your thoughts. What had happened last night? Was it all just a figment of your imagination?

The emotions and sensations felt so real, but now they have slipped through your fingers like sand.

Even though it felt so real, you couldn't help but question whether it was all just a dream. How could something that intense and meaningful have happened overnight? Was it just your imagination playing tricks on you?

As you lay there in bed, the memories of your encounter with Carlos lingered, leaving you wondering if it was a sign of something more or simply a figment of your subconscious.

You thought of the only thing that could confirm your time with Carlos was real. His number.

You reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your phone, heart pounding with anticipation. Scrolling through your contacts, you found Carlos' name right where you had hoped it would be.

It was a small but undeniable confirmation that your encounter with him had indeed been real, and that the connection you felt was not just a figment of your imagination.

As you stared at Carlos' name on your phone screen, a sense of relief washed over you. It was a joyful realization that you had indeed reconnected with your best friend, and the bond you thought you had lost was now restored.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as you realized that today was the last day in Canada before everyone had to travel to Spain for the next grand prix.

You knew that you had to leave the comfort of this dreamlike encounter with Carlos and return to the reality of your responsibilities in the paddock, helping the McLaren crew.

As you gathered your thoughts and prepared to face the day, you couldn't help but carry the memory of your connection with Carlos with you, finding solace in the fact that even though the dream may have ended, the bond you shared was still intact.

You knew that as the last day in Canada came to an end, all the drivers would be either already at Spain or were getting a plane there now.

Carlos would be among them, and the thought of not seeing him for the next few days filled you with a sense of melancholy.

However, you took comfort in the fact that your encounter had been real and that the bond you shared was still intact, even if you were physically separated for a while.

As you prepared to face the day and fulfill your responsibilities in the paddock, you carried the memory of your connection with Carlos with you, knowing that it would sustain you until you were reunited again.

Putting on your McLaren uniform, you felt a surge of excitement and determination. You climbed into your car and drove off to the paddock, excited to do your job and tried to place Carlos at the back of your mind.

As soon as you arrived at the paddock, you were immediately put to work gathering data for the upcoming race. Your focus shifted from thoughts of Carlos to the tasks at hand, as you meticulously collected and analyzed the necessary information.

The hustle and bustle of the paddock provided a welcome distraction, allowing you to immerse yourself in the fast-paced world of Formula 1 and temporarily forget about the melancholy of being physically separated from Carlos.

Every second counted, and you focused all your energy on fulfilling your responsibilities with precision and efficiency.

The staff relied on your expertise, and you worked tirelessly to ensure that everything was in order for the upcoming race in Spain.

You were responsible for coordinating with the engineers and mechanics to gather and analyze data on the car's performance.

This involved monitoring telemetry, conducting simulations, and making adjustments to optimize the car's setup. You played a crucial role in strategizing race tactics, analyzing competitors' performance, and providing valuable insights to the team.

Your attention to detail and dedication to your responsibilities were vital in ensuring the team's success on race day.

When you were finally able to take a break from your intense work in the paddock, you leaned against a nearby wall, gasping for breath. The physical and mental exertion had taken its toll, leaving you feeling drained and in need of a moment to recuperate.

Slowly, you closed your eyes and let the sounds of the bustling paddock fade into the background, allowing yourself a brief moment of respite before diving back into the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

Suddenly, something cold touched your face and you jumped at the feeling, opening your eyes to see what it was. To your surprise, Carlos stood before you, grinning mischievously as he held a can of ice-cold soda.

"I thought you could use a refreshing break," he said, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

"Carlos? Aren't you supposed to be in Spain?" you asked as you took the soda from his hands and allowed it to cool your body.

Carlos chuckled and leaned in closer, his eyes locked with yours. "I wanted to see you before I leave," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You froze, his words sinking in. What did Carlos mean by "I wanted to see you"? Was he hinting at something? Your mind raced with possibilities, unsure of how to interpret his words.

The uncertainty gnawed at you, leaving you with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to hide your own feelings of confusion and excitement. "It's great to see you, Carlos," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of curiosity. "But why did you want to see me before you leave? Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

As he tucked a hair strand behind your ear, his hand lingered, conveying a tenderness that left you breathless. "Because I want to see you every day," he whispered softly, his eyes searching yours. "I don't know what it is, but I missed you even though I saw you yesterday."

A shiver went down your back as Carlos's words sank in, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You were filled with happiness and relief that there were no paparazzi lurking nearby, ready to capture this moment between the two of you and twist it into a scandalous rumor. It was a precious moment, meant to be cherished in the privacy of the paddock.

"You must have missed me because it's still a shock that I'm here with you after all these years, right?"

"Nope," he denied, his eyes trained on you. "I miss you because I'm not going to be able to see you every day from today,"

"We still will. We can still talk over the phone when either of us isn't busy,"

"But that's not enough Cariño," Carlos continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel the heat coming from your cheeks, a rosy blush creeping up as Carlos's words sank in. You weren't used to someone expressing their feelings so openly and directly, and it both thrilled and unnerved you.

It was a vulnerability you hadn't experienced before, but deep down, you couldn't deny the warmth and excitement that filled your heart.

Reality then hit you like a ton of bricks. You were just an engineer of McLaren, while he was a popular F1 driver with a massive fan base and a glamorous lifestyle.

The difference in status and fame between the two of you was undeniable, and it suddenly dawned on you that pursuing a relationship with Carlos would come with its own set of challenges and potential complications.

Despite the warmth and affection in his words, you couldn't ignore the practical obstacles that lay ahead.

"Oh my break is over, Carlos," you quickly said, gently pushing his messy hair out of his eyes before running off. "See you in Spain,"

As you made your way back to work, your mind was filled with conflicting emotions.

On one hand, you couldn't deny the deep connection you felt with Carlos, but on the other hand, the practical obstacles and potential complications of a relationship with him were impossible to ignore.

You knew that maintaining a long-distance relationship would be difficult, especially with both of your busy schedules.

Carlos couldn't help but smirk as he watched you run off, your hair flowing behind you. He watched you intently as you ran over to the other staff, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

He knew that pursuing a relationship with you would be challenging, but he was willing to take on those obstacles.

As he stood there, he made a silent promise to himself that he would do whatever it took to make it work, even if it meant defying the odds and finding a way to bridge the distance between you.

"Cariño, don't worry, I won't let you slip away this time," he muttered to himself, determined to overcome the challenges and bridge the distance between them, no matter what it took. . . .

Sitting alone in your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of regret wash over you. You wished you hadn't run away from Carlos earlier, and now you were anxiously counting down the days until your flight to Spain.

As you looked out the window, you couldn't help but wonder if you were making the right decision. Would the challenges and complications be worth it in the end?

Only time would tell, but for now, all you could do was wait and hope for the best.

You then looked at the McLaren uniform that was on your bed and remembered that you were basically enemies, working in different teams.

The competitive nature of your respective careers added another layer of complexity to the already challenging situation. It seemed like fate was playing a cruel joke on you, intertwining your lives in a way that presented both opportunity and conflict.

Would you be able to navigate the delicate balance between love and rivalry, or would it ultimately tear you apart?

As you arrived in Spain, you couldn't wait to go to your room and finally get some much-needed rest. The long flight had left you exhausted, both physically and mentally. You hoped that a good night's sleep would help clear your mind and bring some clarity to the complex situation you found yourself in.

As you opened the door to your room, a sense of tranquility washed over you. The soft, muted colors of the walls and the gentle glow of the bedside lamp created a soothing atmosphere.

Your eyes were drawn to the large window, through which the warm Spanish sunlight streamed in, casting a golden hue on the room. The curtains gently swayed in the breeze, inviting you to relax and unwind.

You took a moment to appreciate the simple yet elegant decor of the room. The comfortable bed, adorned with crisp white linens and plump pillows, beckoned you to sink into its embrace.

A small desk tucked away in the corner provided a cozy space for you to work or reflect, while a plush armchair in the opposite corner offered a spot for quiet contemplation.

The room emanated a sense of serenity and possibility, providing the perfect backdrop for you to gather your thoughts and make sense of the intricate web of emotions that entangled your heart.

You immediately jumped into the bed and fell into a deep sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. As you drifted off, your mind was filled with dreams and fragments of the tumultuous journey that had brought you here.

In that moment, the complexities of love and rivalry faded away, and you found solace in the peaceful embrace of sleep, hoping that clarity would come with the dawn.

"So how did you sleep for your first coming with McLaren?" Sarah, a staff asked you as you walked through the new paddock of Spain.

You smiled and replied, "I had the most restful sleep in a long time. The tranquility of the room and the gentle breeze made all the difference."

Sarah then proceeded to outline your tasks for the upcoming month as an engineer. She emphasized the importance of fine-tuning the car's aerodynamics and optimizing its performance to ensure that Lando would have every advantage on the track.

She emphasized the need to carefully analyze data from previous races, identify areas for improvement, and collaborate with the rest of the team to implement changes. She expressed confidence in your abilities and reiterated the team's goal of securing a podium finish once again.

With renewed determination, you eagerly embraced the challenges ahead, ready to contribute your expertise and help propel McLaren to further success.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as you settled into the small open office to analyze the data. At first, the solitude seemed like a blessing, allowing you to focus without distractions.

But as the clock struck midnight and you found yourself the only one there, the isolation became suffocating. The hum of the air conditioning seemed louder, the darkness more oppressive, and the weight of responsibility heavier than ever.

As the days went by and the drivers finally arrived at the paddock, you devised a plan to avoid Carlos. You strategically planned your tasks and schedule, making sure to coordinate with Sarah to ensure minimal overlap with Carlos's presence.

You focused on maximizing your productivity during the times when he would be occupied with his own responsibilities, effectively minimizing any potential encounters and maintaining a professional atmosphere within the team.

"You should take a break," someone whispered behind your back. Startled, you jumped at the voice and turned to see Carlos standing there with a concerned expression.

"Carlos! How did you get here?" You yelled, looking around for any cameras that could capture the both of you.

"I came to see you, I told you that I miss you when you're not around," Carlos said effortlessly as if it didn't just give you a heart attack.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you found yourself becoming shy under his gaze. The way he effortlessly expressed his feelings made your heart race, despite your best efforts to maintain a professional atmosphere.

You couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to balance your personal connection with Carlos while also prioritizing your responsibilities to the team.

As you stammered a response, your mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation.

Did Carlos really miss you? Or was he just playing with your emotions?

You couldn't deny the flutter of hope that rose within you, but you also knew that getting involved with a teammate of an enemy could jeopardize your professional relationship and the harmony within the team.

You then heard footsteps approaching the office, and the voices became louder, causing you to freeze in your spot.

With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you realized that the rest of the team was heading towards the office. The last thing you needed was for them to discover your moment with Carlos and potentially create tensions within the team.

In a panic, you quickly grabbed his arm and dragged him into one of the smaller rooms before locking the door behind you.

In the confined space, your heart raced even faster, unsure of what to say or do next.

The room was dimly lit, and as you stood there, heart pounding, you couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension. You knew that this impulsive decision could have consequences.

"Carlos, you can't just come in here whenever you feel like it," you tried to emphasise it to him but none of your words passed through his head.

As you looked into Carlos' eyes, you noticed a flicker of sadness mixed with longing. It was as if he was transported back to the time when you were together, before circumstances tore you apart.

"I know I can't just show up like this," he finally whispered, his voice filled with regret. "But seeing you again, after all this time... I couldn't resist. You still look as beautiful as the day you left."

You were left speechless, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Memories of your past together flooded your mind, causing a mix of emotions to swirl within you.

Part of you wanted to give in to the undeniable chemistry between you, but another part knew that the stakes were too high. You had worked so hard to establish a harmonious dynamic within the team, and getting involved with Carlos could jeopardize everything you had built.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the strength to respond, "Carlos, we can't go back to how things were. We both have responsibilities to the team, and getting involved again would only create chaos. We need to focus on our work and maintain professionalism."

"Cariño, I don't care about work, I care about you," Carlos replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. His words hung in the air, tempting you to abandon reason and give in to your desires.

But you knew deep down that prioritizing your personal relationship over the team's dynamics would be a dangerous path to tread.

Gathering your thoughts, you looked into Carlos' eyes and said firmly, "I understand your feelings, but we need to consider the consequences. Our focus should be on maintaining professionalism and preserving the team's harmony."

"We wouldn't have this problem if you would work for Ferrari and be my engineer," Carlos muttered, slowly coming closer to you.

"Well it can't helped," You replied.

Carlos frowned. "So if you got a chance to go to Ferrari, would you take it?"

You paused for a moment, feeling torn between your commitment to the team and the allure of an opportunity with a prestigious racing team.

Finally, you looked at Carlos and said, "Yes, I would take it. But right now, our priority should be on the team and maintaining professionalism."

Carlos smirked and walked over to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and longing. Your back was against the door as he slowly placed his hand over your head, trapping you in his gaze.

The intensity of the moment was palpable, and a part of you yearned to surrender to the passion that still lingered between you.

As his lips brushed against your ear, he whispered, "I hope you stick to that, cariño," before pushing the door open and leaving you in a daze.

A mix of emotions swirled within you, but deep down, you knew that prioritizing the team's dynamics and professionalism was the right choice.

You took a moment to collect yourself before diving back into your work, determined to maintain the harmony and focus of the team.

'Don't focus too much on work - CS' said a note was on your desk with your favourite coffee beside it.

You smiled at the note, trying to remember when Carlos had placed it on your desk. As you took a sip of your favorite coffee, the taste brought back memories of the times Carlos had surprised you with little gestures of affection when you were young.

"Geez Carlos, you're making me lose my mind," you muttered to yourself as you couldn't concentrate anymore with him running in your mind. . . .

During qualifying races, you found yourself spending a significant amount of time with Carlos.

While he had always been present nowadays, there was something different about his demeanor during these specific events.

You noticed him making an effort to avoid being spotted by the paparazzi and the public eye when he was with you especially after giving you a fright last time.

One morning, as you two sat alone in the grandstand, Carlos turned to you with a mischievous grin on his face. "I can't help it if the paparazzi keep catching glimpses of us together," he said, his voice filled with a hint of flirtation. "It's just the nature of the sport."

You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "I understand why you have to be careful but you don't have to make it a thing to see me every day," you replied, looking away to hide your embarrassment.

"But I must admit, it's a little frustrating not being able to be fully ourselves."

Carlos leaned closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deny that," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "It's a struggle, but I manage it for you."

Before you had the chance to respond, the sound of Carlos' phone echoed through the stands. Carlos' face lit up with excitement as he jumped up to his feet. "I have to go but I will see you tomorrow." His voice was tinged with a hint of regret.

You watched as Carlos sprinted off to where his sleek red car would be racing around the Spanish track. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he disappeared into the distance.

Despite his efforts to keep the paparazzi at bay, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

Throughout the day, you couldn't help but think about your conversation and the enigmatic racing driver that had made such a lasting impression on you. His charm, confidence, and undeniable charisma had left you wanting more.

Only time will tell, but for now, the memory of our conversation and the thought of Carlos racing around the track lingered in your mind, fueling a flame that refused to die. . . .

You and a Mercedes staff were having a casual conversation in the break room, reminiscing about the days of your careers as engineers. As you shared your experiences and exchanged stories, you couldn't help but notice a certain tension between the staff and yourself.

Although you didn't realize it at first, the staff's behavior seemed to hint that he was being flirty. However, you decided to brush it off and maintain a professional tone, focusing on having a friendly conversation with him.

"So what about your dating life?" the staff asked, his voice full of lust.

"Yeah... so how does being George's engineer feel like? It must be a lot of pressure?" You avoided the question, changing the question for the sake of your patience with the man.

"Yes, it gives me a lot of stress but do you know what would take the stress off?" the staff said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You,"

"Oh, that's flattering," you said, slightly irritated by his persistence. "But I'm not really interested in that right now."

"Oh come on," the man insisted, coming closer to you.

"I'm sorry but I'm really not interested," You said, trying to get the message through the staff's thick skull.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The staff's demeanor became stiff, and he averted his eyes, seemingly distracted by something behind you. Confused, you turned to the staff, questioning him but he didn't answer you.

You turned your head to find Carlos Sainz glaring at the staff angrily. The staff excused himself abruptly, leaving us alone.

"What was that all about?" You asked Carlos, turning around to face him.

"Who was he?" Carlos quickly asked, staring at the back of the man's head as he was still walking away from both of you. His eyes only returned to you when the staff wasn't in sight anymore. His eyes were now filled with happiness but jealousy.

"He's just a staff member," you answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Why do you let him talk to you in public but not to me?" Carlos asked, now sulky. You sighed.

"Carlos, you are a Formula 1 driver while he's just a staff member. You'll be hated by the public or questioned by your team. I don't want to jeopardize your career or mine." You explained.

"You know that I don't care about jeopardizing my career if I get to see you," Carlos said without any hesitation.

"Carlos! You can't say that," You said, surprised by his statement.

"I just don't want to lose you again," Carlos whispered. His eyes were on the ground as he didn't want to hear you hear him say it.

Your eyes softened at his words, and you reached out to gently touch his arm. "Carlos, that's not going to happen again, I promise," you said sincerely. "We've both grown since our past, and I'm committed to making this work. But we need to be careful and considerate of the circumstances."

Carlos nodded, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I understand," he replied quietly. "I just... I can't help but worry."

As you sensed Carlos' vulnerability, you slowly brought him into a hug, not caring about getting caught or the potential consequences. His arms instinctively wrapped around your back, while your hands found their place around Carlos' neck.

"You said the same thing all those years ago, that you would never leave me," he muttered into your shoulder.

"Well I was a child then, now I'm an adult," you reassured him. "I can make my own decision now so my decision is to stay by your side for as long as you will have me,"

"Then I will have you forever cariño,"

"Good because I'm not leaving," you stated and you could feel Carlos smiling against your shoulder, making you grin at your achievement.

Carlos then pulled back to look at you with eyes filled with love, causing your heart to skip a beat. Was this the feeling of love that you were experiencing? Was this the love you had been longing for? Were those butterflies in your stomach a sign of something deeper?

The rhetorical questions swirled in your mind, but one thing was certain - in that moment, you knew that you never wanted to let him go. . . .

"Alright, Lando, the final qualifying race is about to start. I've done the final checks on your car, so you're all set to go out there and give it your best."

"Thanks Y/N! You're the best!" Lando said, giving you a fistbump before entering the racing car.

As the race began, you kept your eyes fixed on Lando, watching his every move. But you couldn't help but glance over at Carlos' progress as well.

As the race progressed, Lando showcased his exceptional driving skills, maneuvering through the twists and turns with precision and speed. He maintained a strong position throughout the race, overtaking opponents and defending his place fiercely.

The intense competition on the track fueled his determination, and he pushed the limits of his car to extract every ounce of performance.

To your delight, Lando secured pole position, but your heart sank as you saw Carlos finish in 17th place.

You watched on the screen as Carlos stormed out of his car and quickly made his way to the Ferrari garage, his frustration evident.

After congratulating Lando on his impressive performance, you turned to him and said, "Lando, I'm worried about Carlos. Could you help me get over to the Ferrari garage without drawing too much attention?"

"Of course, anything for my favourite engineer," Lando agreed without hesitation.

Together, you and Lando made your way to the Ferrari garage, strategically navigating through the bustling paddock. Lando, being the quick-witted and charismatic driver that he is, effortlessly made excuses to pass through the crowd without drawing too much attention.

You knew Carlos well enough to sense that something was truly bothering him, and you were determined to find out what it was and offer your support.

When the coast was clear, you knocked on the door to Carlos' drivers' room, but there was no answer.

"Carlos, it's me," you called out loud enough for him to hear you if he was inside the room.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Carlos ushered you inside. His eyes were filled with a mix of disappointment and anger.

He quickly closed the door behind you before going back to sitting down on his couch, his face in his hands to hide his disappointment from you.

You cautiously approached Carlos, taking a seat beside him on the couch. The room fell into a heavy silence as you waited for him to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he looked up at you, his voice filled with frustration as he confessed, "I can't believe I let my team down like this. I had high expectations for this race, and I feel like I've disappointed everyone."

"You didn't disappoint me," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Racing is unpredictable, Carlos. You gave it your all out there, and that's what matters. We win some, we lose some, but what's important is how we bounce back from it."

Carlos looked at you, and with a hint of a smile, he replied, "Thanks for saying that. It means a lot coming from you."

Getting a closer look at him, the dark circles were more visible to you now. It was clear that Carlos had been under a lot of stress lately. You realized that you hadn't been seeing him as often as usual, only exchanging quick greetings here and there.

It was time to dig deeper and find out how he had been truly doing.

"Carlos, how has your sleep been?" you asked, concerned about his well-being.

Carlos hesitated for a moment before replying, "Oh, you know, just the usual. A few restless nights here and there, but nothing too serious."

However, you could tell from the weariness in his eyes that he was not being completely honest with you.

You then patted your lap and Carlos looked bewildered by your action. "Put your head here, just like when we were young," you said, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos hesitated for a moment before finally resting his head on your lap.

The familiar comfort seemed to wash over him as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to finally release the weight of his disappointment and frustration.

As you gently stroked his hair, you whispered, "You don't have to carry this burden alone. Let me help you, like we used to help each other."

Carlos sighed in relief at your head massage, his tense muscles gradually relaxing under your soothing touch. "You're right," he murmured, his voice filled with vulnerability. "I've been struggling to handle everything on my own. It's been overwhelming."

You nodded understandingly, your fingers continuing their gentle rhythm in his hair. "You don't have to face it alone, Carlos," you reassured him. "We're in this together, just like we've always been. You can lean on me whenever you need to."

"I'm going to be late for the media if I fall asleep," he mumbled but he didn't budge like his body was fighting for sleep but his mind was fighting for being awake.

As Carlos' body relaxed against your lap, you could see the toll that sleep deprivation had taken on him. His eyes kept drooping, fighting the urge to close, but eventually, his body succumbed to exhaustion.

You gently covered him with a blanket and whispered, "Rest now, Carlos. I'll make sure you won't be late for the media. Your well-being is more important."

Carlos's resistance faded as he succumbed to sleep, finding solace in your presence and the promise of support.

As Carlos drifted off to sleep, you noticed the deep lines etched on his forehead, evidence of the stress he had been carrying. His shoulders slumped forward, burdened by the weight of his fatigue. Even in his sleep, he seemed restless, his body twitching with the remnants of anxiety.

Carlos's body seemed to sag against your lap, as if all his energy had been drained from him, leaving behind only weariness and the need for rest.

Carlos' face was incredibly expressive, even as he slept soundly. You continued to gently stroke his soft hair, mesmerised by the subtle shifts in his features - the occasional twitch of his brow, the slight curl of his lips.

It was a captivating display, and you found yourself endlessly entertained by the nuances of his sleeping countenance.

You didn't know that one hour had flown by until you heard a loud knock on the door. You froze, hoping that it wasn't some Ferrari staff looking for Carlos until you heard Charles' voice behind the door.

"Carlos! The media want to take your interview now. You can't stay here forever." Charles said while opening the door.

Charles' face was filled with worry and fear before he saw the two of you on the sofa. His face immediately changed to a relieved look as he looked at the sleeping figure of Carlos on your lap.

"Oh hi Y/N, how long has he been like this?" Charles now whispered as he closed the door behind him.

You looked at the clock, shocked at the time. "Around an hour or more."

"You've been like that for one hour." Charles repeated in shock.

"He was tired. What else was I supposed to do?" You whispered after feeling him stir into your lap, your hand returning back to his messy hair.

Charles sighed after he noticed how your eyes softened when you looked at Carlos and he knew it was over for you.

"Just tell him that the media are waiting for him now," he said gently before leaving the room.

Slowly, you roused Carlos from his slumber, watching as the grogginess gradually overtook him. A faint smile crept across your face as you observed the dishevelled state of his usually neatly styled hair, now tousled and unkempt, a testament to the deep sleep from which he was emerging.

The light came from the ceiling, casting a warm glow on his face, highlighting the drowsiness in his eyes. He blinked repeatedly, his movements sluggish and disoriented, a stark contrast to his typically alert and composed demeanour.

You couldn't help but let out a gentle giggle at the endearing sight of this usually put-together man, now rumpled and disoriented, his messy hair a playful reflection of his current state of mind.

“What happened?” Carlos muttered, slowly sitting up to face you.

“You still have media to do,” You reminded him, standing up to stretch from the sitting position you were in for an hour.

Carlos sighed at your words, rubbing the back of his neck. "I completely forgot about the media," he admitted with a hint of frustration. "I guess I needed that nap more than I thought.

"Thanks for being here for me, Y/N."

"It's no problem Carlos, oh wait, let me..." you started but your voice went in vain after you looked at Carlos.

His shirt was wrinkled, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from where it had been pressed against your lap. Nevertheless, he still managed to look effortlessly charming, his tousled hair adding a touch of disheveled appeal to his already handsome features.

"Let me fix your hair," you muttered, stepping closer to him and gently running your fingers through his tousled locks. Carlos smiled gratefully, his eyes sparkling with appreciation as he allowed you to tend to his messy hair, cherishing the intimate moment between the two of you.

"Thank you, Cariño," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I don't know what I would do without you. You always know how to bring me back to reality and take care of me."

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "It's my pleasure, Carlos. Taking care of you is something I love to do."

"There, now you're ready," you said with a playful smile, gently patting his cheeks to remove any lingering traces of sleep. Carlos chuckled, his eyes brightening as he looked at you.

"Thanks, love. I feel much better now," he replied, his gratefulness evident in his voice.

As he started to walk to the door, he stopped in his tracks and turned around to you. "Will you be here when I come back?"

You looked at Carlos with a soft smile, your heart fluttering at the hope in his eyes.

"Carlos, McLaren will get worried about where I am," you replied, your voice filled with regret at the change on Carlos' face. "I'll check on you later okay?"

He nodded before leaving the room, but you couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment. As much as you wanted to stay by his side, duty called, and you knew you had to prioritize your responsibilities.

"Off to go celebrate Lando's pole," you muttered to yourself as you left the room, a mixture of excitement and disappointment swirling within you. You knew that supporting Carlos meant sometimes sacrificing your own desires, but it didn't make the longing to be by his side any less intense. . . .

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As you prepared for your dinner with Carlos, you carefully selected a glamorous outfit that exuded elegance and style. The dress in question was a captivating red number that perfectly complemented your complexion. With its intricate woven design, cowl neck, and lace-up back, it exuded captivating allure.

The Shape Red Woven Cowl Neck Lace Back Mini Dress was a short, figure-hugging dress that accentuated your curves. The vibrant red color added a touch of vibrancy to your overall look, while the woven pattern gave it a unique texture. The cowl neck oozed sophistication, while the lace-up back added a touch of playfulness.

As you adorned yourself with various accessories, you carefully placed a delicate gold necklace around your neck. However, it didn't quite sit right, and you found yourself struggling to achieve the desired look.

Just as you were about to give up, there was a knock on the door. It was 7 PM, and to your surprise, it was Carlos standing in the doorway, holding a bouquet of vibrant red, black and white flowers. His smile lit up his face, and your heart raced with anticipation.

He then looked shocked as he took in your outfit. His eyes widened, and his mouth formed a silent "wow" as he admired the captivating red dress that perfectly hugged your curves.

The intricate woven design, cowl neck, and lace-up back emphasised your elegance and style, leaving Carlos momentarily speechless.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if you had made a fashion blunder.

"Is it bad? I can change it if you want to," you ranted, scared of Carlos' expressions.

"Wow," Carlos finally managed to say out loud, his voice filled with surprise. "You look absolutely stunning in that dress. I never would have imagined you could look even more beautiful than you already do."

You blushed at his words, feeling a mix of relief and delight. The insecurity that had crept in earlier began to fade away as you realised that Carlos genuinely appreciated your efforts and found you stunning in the dress.

His sincere compliment filled you with confidence, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, grateful for his presence and the way he made you feel.

"Thank you Carlos, you can come in," you said shyly, letting him walk into your apartment.

As you walked back to your dresser, you picked up the necklace and walked over to Carlos. "Can you help me with this?"

With his cold hands gently touching your skin, you inadvertently shivered, feeling a surge of goosebumps. Despite his gentle touch, they managed to give you an unexpected thrill. As you turned around, our eyes locked, and a surge of warmth washed over you.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure cariño,"

In a car adorned with luxurious leather seats, you two drove to your dinner date. The fancy restaurant Carlos had taken you to was the epitome of elegance and exclusivity. However, as you two entered, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The glamorous ambiance and foreign faces made you feel like an outsider, despite the glamorous attire you wore.

Carlos, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair for you, ensuring you were comfortably seated before sitting opposite you. The anticipation in the air was palpable, as you two exchanged fleeting glances, waiting for the right moment to break the silence.

As we settled into our seats, we began to engage in conversation, discussing anything and everything.

"So, how do you like the restaurant?" Carlos asked, breaking the silence with a charming smile.

You took a moment to observe the elegant surroundings before responding, "It's certainly impressive, but I can't help feeling a bit out of place."

Carlos squeezed your hand reassuringly and replied, "Don't worry, my love. You belong here just as much as anyone else. Besides, I brought you here because I wanted to spoil you and show you how special you are to me."

His words melted away your unease, and a sense of gratitude washed over you. As you continued your conversation, you couldn't help but feel lucky to have Carlos by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the room.

After indulging in a delicious meal, our conversation continued in comfortable silence. The soft ambiance of the restaurant and the lingering warmth of Carlos's presence created a peaceful atmosphere.

As you two savored the last bites of dessert, you couldn't help but reflect on how lucky you were to have found someone like Carlos, someone who made you feel cherished and valued with every word and gesture.

"So do you still feel bad about yesterday's race?"

"Not anymore, not after you are right in front of me," he replied, grinning at your shy reaction.

"Carlos, you have to be focused for the grand prix tomorrow," you said, trying to steer the conversation back to the upcoming race.

"Yeah, I am focused," he replied, his gaze still fixed on you.

Despite his flirty demeanor, you couldn't help but feel a shyness creep over you, making it difficult to concentrate on anything other than his captivating presence.

Carlos' magnetic charm emanated from his piercing blue eyes, which seemed to hold a universe of depth and mystery. The way his dark, tousled hair fell effortlessly across his forehead only added to his ruggedly handsome appearance.

With a fit and athletic physique that hinted at his prowess on the racetrack, Carlos exuded an undeniable allure that made it impossible to look away.

The evening was coming to a close when we were caught by something unexpected.

The paparazzi had gathered outside the restaurant, snapping pictures of us. Their presence brought a sudden realisation to both of us. In that moment, we realised that our evening had been captured, immortalised for the world to see.

The potential consequences of the paparazzi's photos being made public loomed over you both. The invasion of privacy could subject you to scrutiny, judgment, and even hate from the public.

The intimate moments shared between you and Carlos, which were meant to be cherished and kept private, could be distorted and sensationalized, leaving you vulnerable to the harsh realities of fame and public opinion.

Carlos immediately took your hand and led you to the back of the restaurant where a staff member was waiting with his car ready to go. In a swift and coordinated move, he opened the car door for you and helped you inside, shielding you from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

As the car pulled away, you felt a mix of relief and gratitude for Carlos's quick thinking and protective nature.

Carlos whispered, "Don't worry, I'll make sure your face will not be seen by the public."

You reply with a grateful smile, feeling a sense of comfort in Carlos's reassurance. "Thank you, Carlos," you say softly, appreciating his efforts to protect your privacy amidst the chaos of the paparazzi.

"Anything for you Cariño," He said with a grin on his face, taking a look at you before looking back at the road. "So which house are we going to? Yours or mine?"

"I think it's best if I go home and get a good night's rest for tomorrow," you stated, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Sure Cariño," he replied with a gentle nod, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and longing.

Inside the car, a comfortable silence enveloped you both, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine. As the city lights blurred past, a sense of intimacy filled the air, as if the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the promise of a new day ahead.

When you arrived at your apartment, Carlos was about to turn to leave after saying goodbye, but you quickly grabbed his hand to stop him. "Carlos," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing.

He turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before a smile tugged at his lips. "Yes?" he replied, his voice gentle.

"Stay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "At least stay with me for a while since our dinner was cut short."

Carlos's smile widened, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I would love nothing more," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'll stay with you as long as you need me, Cariño."

As you both entered your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and nervousness. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken feelings, and you wondered if this was the beginning of something more than just friendship.

Closing the door behind you, you turned to face Carlos, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I've enjoyed our time together tonight," you said, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

Carlos's eyes softened as he looked at you, his body language reflecting a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush against your cheek.

Your breath hitched at his touch, your heart racing in response. The air crackled with tension, both of you feeling the electricity between you, unsure of what would happen next.

"I don't want to rush things, but can I kiss you?" he whispered, his voice filled with longing and desire. The question hung in the air, intensifying the tension between you.

"Okay, but remember you have an important event tomorrow-" you warned. Your voice tinged with concern. However, Carlos hardly let you finish your sentence.

With a surge of desire and longing, he closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately, his lips capturing yours in a moment of undeniable connection. In that electric embrace, the worries about the future faded away.

As his lips melded with yours, a rush of warmth spread through your body, igniting every nerve ending. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the intoxicating taste of his lips and the intensity of the moment.

The kiss held an undeniable spark, a perfect harmony of desire and affection that left you breathless and craving more.

Your hands instinctively found their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, while his hands tightened their grip around your waist, pulling you closer. In that moment, the world disappeared, and it was just the two of you, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss, savoring the electrifying connection between your bodies.

When you finally broke apart to catch your breath, you couldn't help but smile. The taste of his lips still lingered on yours, and the intensity of the moment hung in the air.

As you moved back slightly, you couldn't help but notice a faint trail of saliva connecting your mouths, reminding you of the raw passion that had consumed you both.

The anticipation and desire that had built up before the kiss only intensified in its aftermath. Both of you were left wanting more, your hearts yearning for the next encounter, as the taste of his lips and the lingering connection between your bodies filled your thoughts and fueled your desire.

"Do you still want me to stop?" Carlos teased, reminding you of your words before.

But as you looked into his eyes, filled with equal parts mischief and desire, you couldn't help but shake your head and pull him closer, surrendering to the undeniable electricity between you.

"We can't do anything that will weaken you and your legs before your grand prix tomorrow. Just kiss for now," you muttered reluctantly.

With a mischievous grin, Carlos whispered, "You better come to my driver's room after my home win then." The anticipation of what may happen next filled the air, fueling your desire for him even more.

"Of course," you replied with a mischievous smile. "But only if you promise to make it worth the wait."

Carlos chuckled. His eyes lit up with anticipation. "I'll make it a race you'll never forget," he whispered, before capturing your lips once again in a passionate kiss, leaving you both eagerly counting down the hours until his victory. . . .

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you sat on your break, scrolling through the Twitter posts about you and Carlos from the previous day, a rush of excitement and anticipation filled you.

You couldn't help but smile as you read the comments and speculations from fans and followers. They were intrigued by the mysterious person who had captured Carlos's attention, wondering who you were and what your connection to him might be.

Although most of the pictures didn't fully reveal your face, they were captivated by the chemistry and passion that radiated from the moments captured.

The passionate kiss you shared replayed in your mind, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

The passionate kiss with Carlos had ignited a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions within you. It was as if a flame had been sparked, intensifying your desire for him and leaving you eagerly anticipating the next encounter.

The memories replayed in your mind, making it impossible to think of anything else but the electrifying connection you shared.

"Are you ready to celebrate with me after I win?" someone whispered, a hand sliding onto your waist. You turned to see Carlos, his eyes shining with excitement and anticipation, and couldn't help but feel your desire for him grow even stronger.

"Carlos, shouldn't you be talking to your team before the race?" you asked, turning around to face him.

But his gaze was unwavering, and with a confident smile, he replied, "I've already done everything I need to do. I just needed to talk to my good luck charm and my future engineer."

"Carlos-"

"Remember our promise? You said that you would work for Ferrari if I won this race?"

You sighed. "Why don't you win the race before we discuss that?" you said, trying to hide the nervous flutter in your stomach.

Deep down, you knew that if Carlos won, everything would change between you, and the thought both thrilled and terrified you.

The mischievous glint in Carlos's eyes only grew stronger as he leaned in closer, whispering, "Oh, I will win. And when I do, you better be ready to fulfill that promise."

With a mixture of excitement and apprehension, you leaned in closer to Carlos, playfully brushing your lips against his ear as you whispered, "Oh, I'll be ready, Carlos."

Carlos couldn't resist the playful challenge in your voice, and as he grinned, he pulled you even closer, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and electrifying kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you faded away, leaving only the intense connection between the two of you.

"Good luck," you muttered as you broke away to the sound of the speakers announcing the start of the race.

The anticipation and excitement in the air were palpable as Carlos gave you one last lingering look before heading towards his team, leaving you with a mix of hope and uncertainty for what the future held.

"So you're cheering for the enemy now?" a voice said behind you, and you turned around to see Lando, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Well, I always knew you had a thing for bad boys," he teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes.

"I wouldn't call it cheering for the enemy," you replied, returning his smirk. "Just enjoying the thrill of competition. Besides, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone."

"Just remember that you're my engineer, at least for now from what I heard."

"Lando-" you tried to explain but he stopped you.

"I understand, I can't stand in the way of true love," Lando said with a bittersweet smile. "But it's not like we're going to lose contact again, right? We'll still be friends, even if things change between you and Carlos."

You smiled reassuringly, placing a hand on his arm. "Of course not, Lando. We may be on different teams, but our friendship goes beyond the track. We'll always stay in touch."

Lando nodded, his smile widening. "That's what I like to hear. No matter what happens on the racetrack, our friendship will remain strong. And who knows, maybe one day we'll even end up as drivers and engineers again."

As the speaker asked again for the drivers to get ready, Lando rushed over to get ready for the race. His excitement was palpable. Meanwhile, you focused on your role as his engineer, meticulously checking the data and making last-minute adjustments to ensure that Lando had the best possible performance.

The countdown had begun, and the adrenaline surged through your veins as you prepared for the start of the race. . . .

The roar of the engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the starting grid, their sleek bodies glistening under the bright lights. The anticipation was electric, with the crowd holding their breath in anticipation of the exhilarating race that was about to unfold.

As the signal for the start of the race was given, the cars shot forward, their tires screeching against the asphalt, and the drivers expertly maneuvered through the first turns, jostling for position.

Each lap brought new challenges and heart-stopping moments, as the drivers pushed themselves and their machines to the limit, battling for victory.

The atmosphere was intoxicating, a heady mix of adrenaline, strategy, and sheer determination, as the race unfolded with breathtaking speed and precision.

The roar of the engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the starting grid, their sleek bodies glistening under the bright lights. The anticipation was electric, with the crowd holding their breath in anticipation of the exhilarating race that was about to unfold.

As the signal for the start of the race was given, the cars shot forward, their tires screeching against the asphalt, and the drivers expertly maneuvered through the first turns, jostling for position.

Each lap brought new challenges and heart-stopping moments, as the drivers pushed themselves and their machines to the limit, battling for victory. The atmosphere was intoxicating, a heady mix of adrenaline, strategy, and sheer determination, as the race unfolded with breathtaking speed and precision.

In the end, Carlos proved his skill and expertise, crossing the finish line first with a triumphant roar from the crowd. Lando, though disappointed not to take the top spot, showcased his talent by securing a solid second place, earning him well-deserved recognition and applause from the spectators.

Despite the competitive nature of the race, the friendship between Lando and Carlos remained strong, with both drivers acknowledging each other's abilities and celebrating their shared passion for the sport.

You were filled with a sense of pride as you watched Lando secure a solid second place, but deep down, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for Carlos. Seeing him cross the finish line first, his skill and expertise on full display, was a moment of pure joy.

You knew that this victory meant so much to him, and you couldn't help but celebrate alongside him, grateful for the camaraderie and shared passion that united everyone in the thrilling world of racing.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause as Carlos crossed the finish line, their jubilation echoing throughout the stadium. Flags waved, horns blared, and spectators jumped up and down in excitement, caught up in the exhilarating moment of victory.

The atmosphere was electric, filled with a mix of admiration, awe, and sheer joy for Carlos's well-deserved triumph.

As you looked around, you realized that you were surrounded by fans of Lando's team, who were understandably disappointed by his second-place finish. Feeling slightly awkward, you tried to contain your excitement and join in the applause for Lando's impressive performance.

But deep down, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret that you couldn't fully express your joy for Carlos's victory among like-minded supporters.

You stayed with the McLaren team throughout the podium celebration, witnessing the bittersweet mix of emotions among the fans.

Some were still caught up in their disappointment for Lando, while others couldn't help but applaud Carlos's remarkable achievement.

As Carlos stood on the first-place podium, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you. When his gaze finally met yours, a wide smile spread across his face, and he raised his trophy in triumph.

In that moment, you knew that your support and shared joy meant everything to him, and you felt a deep sense of pride and happiness for being there to witness his victory.

Throughout the celebration, Carlos had been winking at you whenever he had the chance, a secret gesture that only the two of you understood.

As you locked eyes with him during the podium celebration, he winked at you once again, a silent reminder of the special connection you shared and the unspoken bond between you. In that moment, the world around you faded away, and it was just the two of you, celebrating his victory together.

You couldn't help but blush as Carlos's wink hinted at the private celebration that awaited you in his driver's room.

The teasing and flirty gesture only added to the excitement and anticipation that filled the air, making you eagerly anticipate the intimate moments you would share after the public festivities were over. . . .

You quickly changed out of your McLaren staff clothes into some casual attire, ensuring that you wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention as you made your way into the Ferrari garage.

With the ID that Carlos had obtained for you, you confidently walked past security and into the inner sanctum of the team.

As you entered, the atmosphere shifted, and you could feel the excitement building as you prepared to celebrate Carlos's victory in a more private setting.

The Ferrari garage exuded an air of opulence and exclusivity, with sleek Italian design elements, polished surfaces, and dimmed lighting that added a touch of mystery.

The atmosphere was filled with the intoxicating scent of leather and the faint sound of engines purring in the distance, creating a sensory experience that heightened the anticipation of the private celebration that lay ahead.

When you made it to Carlos's driver's room, you knocked on his door and immediately the door opened, revealing Carlos standing there with a wide grin on his face. He pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering how grateful he was that you were there to share this moment with him.

As you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that this victory was not just his, but yours as well, and you couldn't wait to celebrate together in the privacy of his sanctuary.

With a mischievous smile, he whispered in your ear, "I've been waiting for this moment all day." As you melted into his arms, you knew that the private celebration you had been eagerly anticipating was about to begin.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine admiration and love. Carlos's eyes sparkled with joy as he pulled you even closer, cherishing the words that meant so much to him.

You felt a surge of heat course through your body as he pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, and his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he leaned in close.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. 'I'm so glad you're here."

You reached up and ran your fingers through his soft, dark hair. "I couldn't miss this, "You whispered. "Congratulations, Carlos. You were incredible."

"Thank you, mi amor," he said. "I couldn't have done it without you."

With that, he leaned down and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, and I could taste the champagne on his tongue. I felt a surge of desire wash over me as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the contours of my mouth.

"Can I touch you?" Carlos whispered, staring from your lips to your body, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and anticipation.

You nodded, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, as his hands gently traced the curves of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he could quench.

He tastes of mint and victory, and you feel the hard muscles of his chest against your breasts as he pulls you tight against him. Your hands explore his strong back, feeling the power in his body, the sinewy strength that has just won him the race.

Pulling away slightly, Carlos nips at your lower lip, his eyes burning with a hunger that matches your own. "I need you," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "Right now."

You whimper at his words, all shyness forgotten in the face of your overwhelming desire. "Yes," you plead, arching your back, offering yourself to him. "Please, Carlos."

His response is to lift you up and sit you on the nearby table, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushes your legs apart. You can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your core, and you grind your hips down, wanting to feel him inside you.

With one hand, he reaches between your legs, his fingers stroking your wet pussy through your pants. You gasp at the contact, your head falling back as he teases your clit with his skilled fingers.

"So wet for me already," he groans, dipping his head to suck at the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Please," you beg, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "I need you now."

Carlos chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine, and then he pushes your pants down for them to fall on the ground, his fingers finding your aching cunt.

With one sharp thrust, he pushes a finger inside you, and you cry out, your hips buckling at the sudden pleasure.

"That's it, baby," he whispers, adding another finger, stretching and filling you. "Take it. Take all of me."

You can't form words, your mouth open in a soundless cry as he fingers your pussy, his thumb rubbing your swollen clit in circles. Your juices coat his hand, and he adds a third finger, scissoring you, stretching you deliciously.

As you hover on the edge of an orgasm, Carlos pulls his fingers out, leaving you whimpering and desperate. Before you can protest, he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and lines up his thick cock with your waiting hole.

With one swift thrust, he sinks deep into your wet cunt, burying himself balls-deep.

"Fuck!" you cry out. You claw at his back, your legs tightening around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him deeper.

Carlos begins to move, his hips snapping as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you. The table shakes with the force of his thrusts, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm.

"You feel so good," he grunts, his eyes screwed shut as he concentrates on the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his cock. "So fucking tight."

Hearing him talk dirty sends you over the edge, and your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking uncontrollably as you cry out his name. Carlos doesn't stop, pounding into you as you ride out your climax, your juices coating his shaft.

With a few more hard thrusts, Carlos tenses, a growl tearing from his throat as he spills himself deep inside you, his hot cum filling your hole. He slumps forward, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath, his cock still buried deep.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, feeling your hearts pounding in unison. "That was..." you start, unable to find the words to describe the intense, passionate sex you just shared.

"Incredible," Carlos finishes for you, kissing you softly. "But I have a feeling this is just the beginning for us."

You catch your breath and look into Carlos' eyes, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "Incredible doesn't even begin to cover it," you say, your voice filled with a mix of desire and anticipation.

"Wanna do round 2 in your bedroom?" you smirked, your eyes glinting with mischief as you playfully suggested taking the passionate encounter to the next level.

Carlos grinned back at you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin. "I thought you'd never ask," he replied, his voice filled with anticipation and desire. . . .

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,702,847 others.

yourusername: Life has a beautiful way of surprising us. Carlos and I met when we were just kids, and we instantly became the best of friends. Unfortunately, circumstances pulled us apart, and we lost touch for years. But destiny had its plans, and we found each other again. Now, we're not just friends, we're partners, and our bond is stronger than ever. Our journey has been filled with twists and turns, but it's led us to this incredible place. 💖

view comments below

yourusername: ALSO GOOD JOB BABY ON GETTING PODIUM!!

carlossainz55: 🥰🥰

carlossainz55: Mi amor, I thought we agreed not to post that picture of me

yourusername: But baby you looked cute in it! Can I still keep it on??

carlossainz55: of course mi amor, anything for you ❤

*liked by yoursername*

user1: OMG they are so cute!!

charles_leclerc: congratulations on your relationship!

yourusername: OMG Charles Leclerc! Can I have your autograph?? charles_leclerc: sure! I'm sure I will meet you in the paddock to give you one 👍

user2: NOT Y/N BEING A BIGFAN OR CHARLES WHILE DATING CARLOS????

user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹

landonorris: Great podium mate 👊

carlossainz55: Thanks mate, got the love of my life and a home win in the same day. Best day of my life 🥰

*liked by yoursername*

landonorris: Stole my best friend 😒🙄😮‍💨

yourusername: Lando you know you will always be my number 1 bestie 🫶

landonorris: I GOT MY BESTIE BACK 🥰🫶

carlossainz55: What about me?????

*liked by yoursername*

[dimmadoome]

I am nothing if not a details oriented person. I like to suss them out. I like to see the whole picture so I can paint one myself and of course, I've been looking at the picture of Cooper Howard.

Here are a few things I've noticed. As I've stated before, Cooper is wearing the same outfit as he was in the begging of the show. That blue, white and yellow cowboy outfit. His signature outfit. That's still there, hidden underneath the dirt and the grime and the old, ratty coat, leather vest and bandolier. You can see it in the details of the shirt and the silhouette of the hat. That has been discussed so I'm glossing over that.

Another thing I've noticed is his voice. Specifically his accent. The Ghoul and Cooper Howard have a different accent. Cooper is subdued. He's a regular man with a regular voice. Sure there is a bit if a drawl to it, but not the way The Ghoul has one. Anyone from the south knows what a real southern accent is and what a fake one is. The Ghoul uses a fake one. A larger than life one. That old Hollywood John Wayne fakeass accent. Sure his voice is more fried and that could thicken up an accent some, but that doesn't mean his accent would get more pronounced like THAT.

He's acting the part of The Ghoul. Probably to protect himself in this hellscape that he has been living in for centuries. Its clear that The Ghoul is not who he really is. Its a persona to be slapped over his real one to keep him safe so he can get to his family. I can't wait to see the next season when Lucy and her gung ho, be a good person attitude starts to rub at him more and peel back his layers to press into the soft underbelly underneath. Wether or not he wants to acknowledge it, (which he does. He knoes it already, said it already.) She's his mirror into who he truly is. He might corrupt her to keep her safe (evidenced by the fact that when he cut off her finger, she was given a rotten one in its stead) but she will be the one to pull him back from the brink of losing himself. (It was HER finger he sewed onto himself after all. Her pristine, beautiful smoothskin finger.)

I could also say the arc between Cooper's prewar self becoming disenchanted with vault tec/being betrayed by his wife juxtaposed by Lucy's arc of finding her dad/learning how he betrayed her mom and the world is also a pretty serious mirror as well.

I just.... I've got a lot of feels about Cooper and the symbolism that went into him, plus how he and Lucy are pretty clearly mirrors of eachother. I love it all and I'm gonna need more of this injected right into my brain hole. I need to lick the walls of that studio because HOLY SHIT this show has so much love and care put into everything it does.

[hauntedwitch04]

Just a Mirror

Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader

Words: about 6.3k words

Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes

REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating

Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !

p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.

In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.

Requests are open I Ask

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Why?

This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.

You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze

You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.

Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.

"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.

As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.

"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.

After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.

"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.

"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.

"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.

You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.

Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.

You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.

That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.

You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.

You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.

He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.

Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.

"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.

The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.

"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.

"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."

You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.

"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.

"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.

"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."

"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.

"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.

"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.

"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.

"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.

There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.

The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.

So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.

Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.

Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.

Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.

It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.

You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.

In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.

You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.

"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.

You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.

Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.

You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.

"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.

You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.

"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.

"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.

"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."

You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.

"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."

You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.

"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.

"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."

Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.

You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.

"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.

"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.

You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.

You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.

"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.

"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.

"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.

"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.

"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.

"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.

"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."

You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.

"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."

He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.

"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.

This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.

"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.

"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."

"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"

"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.

"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"

"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.

"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.

It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.

TAGLIST

@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya

[dawnoftime22]

pretty.

| T.S

Warnings: fluff overload, may not have been proofread

Summary: to see Taylor in her very own safety and comfort with you, with her natural face gazing back at you, was a blessing to your eyes.

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

A/N: I dont know what this is, but I thought it was cute :]

| Started on 12/07/2024, 11:07 AM |

| Finished on 05/10/2024, 12:20 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“darling, darling! let me just utter to you just how much I love you.”

(lets ignore the fact that I've used a pic from this same video before for another fic 👀 she just looks so cute<3)

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

Taylor was sitting with her back on the bed, scrolling through her phone and looking through Tumblr, replying to fans and making her own little posts, her leg resting against her other leg.

You had your head rested against her stomach, comfortably using it as a makeshift pillow. Within seconds, she was smiling softly, watching a cat video that had popped up on her dashboard.

A giggle sounds out from her, causing the vibrations of her laugh to travel over to you, and it was the softest thing you've heard all day. You would be on your own phone, but it was just sitting there in your hand, the screen fading dimly in warning before it turned off.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire her every features, simply the crinkle in the corner of her eyes, the blue within her irises, the way her blonde hair would soak in the golden sun, and the curve of her adorable lips.

It had been minutes, of her getting caught up on the screen, and you caught up on her, but it didn't take her long to notice you staring up at her from where you laid.

She shifts her leg off from her knee, putting it more comfortably on the bed, then looking to you instead of her phone.

A breath of air just went in her mouth just as she was about to utter words, but you had spoken first. "You look so pretty...like this," you whisper, the volume barely above the breath you let out, and she blinks for a moment, subtle surprise taking her face.

"...Really?" She raises her eyebrows, a small smile raising up on her face. She had gotten compliments all the time, but with you, it was different.

Your own lips mirrored hers, holding a wider grin, and you eagerly nod. "Mhm." The way you gazed up at her melted her heart, even if you did look like how her cats would whenever they'd lay against her chest. In fact, it makes it better.

"Thank you..." she whispers, a hint of pink tinting her cheeks in all the cutest ways. As much as that would be you whenever she showered you with affection, you absolutely understood now why she would continue to make your heart swell until it bursts with love.

"I think you are the most beautiful person in the entire world," you murmur, moving to sit up, your legs starting to gently go to the sides of her hips, getting comfortable.

She smiles even softer, her hands instinctively going around your waist. "Even without my classic red lipstick?" she murmurs with a tilt of her head, the tone playful, but the words going two ways.

"Mm...your classic red lipstick may be pretty, baby, but I love you all the same even without it. You don't need it-- or anything, to be pretty," you respond, with all the reassurance she needed.

"Just..." You lean forward, arms going to her shoulders to pull yourself in closer. She keeps her eyes on you, admiring your own features, even.

"This..." you continue, murmuring as your hands went to gently cup her face. She just couldn't resist letting her eyes trail down off to your soft looking lips.

"You." The words were breathed out, everything perfect of a loving moment. The rest of the world almost just didn't matter at all, when its just the two of you.

"I love you," you whispered, leaning in to brush against her lips before capturing it. It felt like she was falling in love all over again, head over heels for you. As if it was another confession. And it wasn't even your anniversary or a special day. God, you should have saved it for that because she couldn't even say anything to your current adoration.

The kiss was soon slowly parted, with her not even fully opening her eyes yet. "Your natural face and all of you, is so...adorable," you continued on with genuine sincerity, your thumbs gently caressing her cheek.

A soft laugh comes from her. "I don't even know what to say to that," she says, under the mere exhale of her shallow breath.

A giggle comes from you without hesitation at her cute response. "You don't have to say anything, I just wanted you to know," you reassure, leaning in to nuzzle against her nose.

"Mm. Okay." She nods, then captures your lips again. Your heart skips a beat, but you softly gave in to it without aby hesitation in your bones.

"And you are just as beautiful, sweetheart," she whispers, her finger going up to gently boop your nose when she leaned back, which made it crinkle up, and gracing a smile on your lips. She really did a move of, 'if I'm melting you're melting too'.

"I love you more, by the way," she declares, moving to lay down against the pillows with you on her chest, holding you carefully as she shifted her position.

You hummed, about to protest, but she shook her head and squeezed you tight in her embrace. "Don't even," she whispers, knowing exactly that you were going to say your love was higher.

A chuckle escapes your heart. "I wasn't even going to..." you murmur, your cheeks flushing at her knowing you all too well.

You bit your lip, turning quiet. She absolutely knew you were for sure coming up for a creative way of lovingly fighting her back, but she didn't stop you.

"...I love you to the moon and to saturn?" you whisper, tilting your head up to her with a small smile. She raises her eyebrows, a grin spreading across her face, but she already had a response ready.

"I love you with the entirety of the galaxy then," she whispers, pulling you closer. Her hands gently went under your shirt, dancing around the skin under it.

"Okay, okay..." you murmur, going to bury your face in her chest, surrendering to her big confession of her warm love.

She chuckles softly, leaning down to nuzzle into your hair. She had gotten you, this time. One of her hands peek back out and she reaches for her phone, unlocking it.

"Watch this cat video with me," she says, still cuddling with you and wanting you to join in her journey of joy with the internet's cat videos.

------------------

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[ivysangel]

…vampire!jason thoughts… you must provide them im desperate…. -🐞

(ik you probably expected #real smut, honestly i did too but this ended up turning into a whole bunch of lore/headcanons/whatever tf. i'm so sorry bae cw: talks of consuming blood)

you ask, you shall receive. i've been thinking about jason and dick as vampires in relation to each other, so this'll be a post about both of them just for the sake of comparisons. also, in my mind, this au takes place during the 19th century because i've conflated vampirism with the victorian era, and it's also no capes in regards to vigilantism bc vampires do love a good cape.

in this victorian era, vampire au dick would be either a nobleman or straight up royalty. he's got status, money, and a pretty face, and he uses them all to his advantage when it comes to feeding. you know in the originals or itwtv when they host an event that's actually a cover for them finding their next meal? yeah, he does that. he flirts with all of the ladies, plays into his charms, and sweeps women off their feet. and at the end of the night (sometimes even mid-ball), he coaxes them upstairs and ravishes them, sometimes in more ways than one.

i think for dick feeding is something he can have fun with, knowing that he holds such a high ranking in society that when bodies of people he's been seen with show up around town, people turn a blind eye. and even when someone does try to investigate, the wayne family checking account talks enough to shut down anything beyond a questioning.

in many pieces of media surrounding vampires, there are people who know about vampires and choose to feed them their blood. there's a bunch of lore that explores the idea that a vampire bite is almost orgasmic and kind of addictive, which is why some people are more than willing to put themselves in harm's way by either being employed by vampires or by straight up just throwing themselves into a vampires line of sight with open wounds.

with that being said, i think dick grayson likes the chase. i think that even if his father (bruce, who is also a vampire in this au because vampire families are just superior) has people on his payroll to provide blood for them, he's going to go out on his own to flirt a bit, get laid, and then have his fill.

which brings me to my next point; while feeding, like sex, is an intimate act, it's far from necessary for dick to need an emotional connection with a person he feeds off of or even a physical one. sex and feeding are related but not totally synonymous, and if he needs to just feed or just get his rocks off, he can. is it preferred? maybe not. i believe he does like the mess that comes with doing both at the same time.

ok so for jason, ugh so obsessed with him as a vampire because i think it's so in line with his canon story. in a lot of vampire lore, to become a vampire, you have to consume the blood of a vampire and either die or be on the brink of death, which is just so. it's so jason dying and being revived by the lazarus pit coded. and even the way he inevitable that he will spill blood post-revival in both this vampire au and his canon storyline…it's almost prophetic.

anyway, jason's approach to vampirism is quite different. i think he struggles with it no matter how long he's been one. he can't fully grasp that he's immortal; he looks in the mirror and sees that he hasn't aged a day and he feels sick. being a vampire for him feels like a curse and he only continues living because he's scared to die (again).

he doesn't stay anywhere too long, typically hopping from town to town in the middle of the night when less people are around. he believes himself to be out of place amongst normal people and he's paranoid that people can smell the iron on his breath when he talks to them so he makes it a point to have minimal interaction with people.

it's crippling, he drives himself mad with the solitude, but i feel like another reason why he continues to stay alive is to spite his creator, whoever that may be. he's most definitely got an agenda, in true jason fashion. i just don't know what it is yet.

he feeds only when he needs to but tries not to let the hunger get too intense because i do feel like when he loses control, he's the stefan salvitore type. a ripper. but he's pretty good about it and is almost polite when he's feeding? like he finds a victim and says i'm sorry before just absolutely tearing into their jugular.

i just really think he grapples with his own mortality, or lack thereof, and how it exists at the expense of others. so he is genuinely ashamed of who he is and what he's become. so, while blood drinking is something he needs to survive, it holds a lot of weight for him, which is why i think drinking blood and sex are pretty equal for him when it comes to intimacy level.

that brings me to my MAIN point (which isn't really a main point because it's being reduced to a small paragraph at the end of this post), all of that was background for this, eek. the act of drinking blood during sex is so. big. for him, it's eye-opening, life-changing. the amount of trust required on both ends for this to happen…at that point, it's basically end game for you two. and it's so funny because that's just a normal tuesday for dick.

anyway, i do have more thoughts and more lore, but this got really long, so i'll cut it off here

[confused-cakepop]

So lately I've been seeing a lot of fanart of lloyd with long hair and the more I think about it the better it is!?

Something that's been repeatedly established about lloyd is the similarities he's had to his father and while its mainly focused on personality it's clear they look alike as well. I mean garmadon and lloyd have the same haircut and it's a hair cut lloyd has for a good chunk of the show making him look really similar to young garmadon because of it. It has also been established that lloyd hates the idea of being like his dad and even gets terrified when he sees his oni form in his reflection because of that fear, which connects it back into his appearance.

This leads me to believe that he'd want to look completely different so he wouldn't have to see his worst fear every time he looks in the mirror. Growing out his hair is an Easy way to do that and it can tie back to his days at darkleys where he presumably got his hair cut the same way every time and didn't have much of a choice considering all the boys got either the same or a very similar haircut.

Lloyd growing it out long goes against both his past at darkleys and his resemblance to his father. This also makes him look more like his mother as a result and while a lot of people hate misako in this Fandom I think the relationship between her and lloyd has a lot of potential and connecting lloyd to his mother's side of the family is something I really wanted to see.

Like imagine misako braiding lloyds hair for him just like the way her mother taught her how too. They quietly talk and catch up with eachother about misako's latest exploration or lloyds new training regimen. It ends up becoming a routine for them every time they get reunited. Because hair holds memories and they want to hold the ones they make together close.

He'll even look more like the FSM!!

Anyways long rant but long-haired lloyd supremacy. Rather it's shoulder length and well kept or absurdly long like jinx's hair from arcane is it will always be famous in my heart.

[yuri-is-online]

Ooohhh any head cannons with malleus! Yutu and how diasomnia reacts to them?

Ah yes the banished Prince.  I was wondering when I was going to get an ask about him, and I admit I am a bit surprised it was only the one unlike a certain other prince. It's rather fitting to come back to Yutu posts with him though, there's a great deal of tragedy to be had with Malleus in this ayuu.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FROM BOOK 7 ON HOW DRAGON FAE REPRODUCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

I've mentioned it before but Malleus! Yutu plays by half elf rules.  He's very young looking, he's around the same age that Yuu is, whatever you think that is, but he looks around 15 at most and shares his father's eyes and teeth.  Even in your world he had a reputation for being quite baby faced, this annoys him quite a lot, though he keeps his outrage to a brief pout if the person talking about it is Yuu.

Yuu remembers Malleus being their best friend, someone who was socially awkward due to isolation and came off as intense and scary because of it.  They go to great lengths to try and encourage Yutu to make friends, but the public opinion of them as weirdos really hinders this and is only increased as Yutu matures.  This Yutu doesn't like people very much, he grows up assuming everyone is mean and overly judgemental and that he will never be truly accepted for who he is no matter how hard he tries.

Being born in a different world does not make him any less of a Draconia, though unlike his father he is less prone to rage and more to long periods of melancholy; he is very much that sensitive goth kid with reams of bad poetry he will want to burn when he gets older and a love for rainy days. He has a deep love for classical poetry, music, and old clothes. If the area where Yuu lived had a ren faire then you can best bet Yuu took him there as a special treat more than once, he loves seeing all the medieval outfits and activities. He's explored every cemetery your town has, knows all of it's weird rumors, and any fun history stuff that might have happened in and around it, something he retains when transported to Twisted Wonderland. There are few people who know more about the history of Night Raven College than Yutu Draconia, for better or worse.

His interest in the macabre effects how he sees his parent's situation. While other Yutus might have needed time to adjust to the idea of magic and curses, Malleus! Yutu always firmly believed in it and assumed that was exactly what had happened to his parent. He went back and forth on his beliefs about his father, as a small child he thought of his father as a wonderful person who loved his parent so much that he must be searching for them surely, and that any day now he would swoop in and fly Yuu and him away to where they really belonged. When that never happened he began to wonder if maybe his father saw his relationship with Yuu as a mistake and that their memories had been altered purposefully to hide his identity. Whatever the truth, Yutu has decided that his loyalty is to Yuu, and that no matter who is trying to harm them he will hunt them down and have his revenge.

He announces as much to Crewel after he arrives in the mirror chamber, magic sparking at his finger tips as he roars it with a force he didn't know he had and immediately starts hacking at how dry his throat has become. It's very cute and not as intimidating as he might have wanted, but his point comes across well enough. Diasomnia is extremely pleased to have a Draconia back in the Housewarden's seat, though Yutu is less than pleased with this new position of authority.

The transition of being a hated outcast to the rightful King of a literal fallen kingdom is jarring. Learning of his father's controversial marriage to Yuu, of the uproar caused by their disappearance and his father's outright refusal to ever give up hope that his child and spouse would return is heartbreaking. Silver and Sebek had standing orders to go to them when not if they did, that's how badly his father wanted to believe he would be back. He was barely able to live with himself without them, but he had to. He had a kingdom relying on him, and someone else too.

We have gone back and forth in these posts about giving Yutu a sibling, but Malleus! Yutu absolutely has one. Dragon fae create eggs from magic and their partner's love, so in this scenario Malleus and Yuu decided to have two children, one that Mal would nourish and one that Yuu would. Technically, the Crown Princess is older than Yutu, but since she hatched from an egg she matures even slower than he does. She did grow faster than her father, the ability to transform into a human came much more naturally to her because of Yuu's love, but she doesn't look or sound much older than six. You are insane if you think this means she thinks of herself as the younger sibling though, her egg was older by two whole years so there! That means she is in charge! So Yutu absolutely has to stop learning boring "political smience" or whatever and play with her RIGHT NOW. She's wanted to meet him for so long TᴖT how dare her little brother deny her TᴖT look at her she's so cute how could he even think of scolding her TᴖT oh jail for brother jail for 1000 years TᴖT

Yutu might hate socializing and have a negative view of people but he absolutely adores his sister and thinks of himself as the big brother. He lets her claim to be in charge in the same way Malleus let Sebek do whatever he wanted because he finds it amusing. It is not uncommon to see the King in Exile holding court with the Crown Princess on his lap, rocking her softly as she naps. It helps solidify his control over what remains of Briar Valley, they might have been skeptical about having a half human King who cannot even transform into a dragon, but his professed dedication to his father's legacy of sacrifice and the clear adoration of his sister make his authority tough to deny.

Speaking of sacrifice, going back in time was hard for Malleus! Yutu. He felt there was absolutely no way he could bring his sister back with him because of how young she was and he was skeptical of whether or not it would even work. If it didn't he would be depriving Briar Valley of a king again, but if it did well. Then he would never need to be king in the first place, which Yutu finds reliving. While he did step up to the task, all he ever really wanted was to live with his father, Yuu, and now his sister in whatever way would have been normal for them. Sure, that normal turns out to have been quite abnormal, but that doesn't mean he still does not want it.

When the Once and Never King sees his father he has maybe more information than any of the other Yutus, even those who had met their dads. He conducted lengthy interviews with both Silver and Sebek, compiling a great pile of notes that he went through over and over again trying to come up with a strategy. All of that planning goes out the window when they actually meet, Yuu asks for permission from Tsunotarou to introduce the two of them, thinking it would be nice for both him and Yutu to have more friends and Malleus is just intrigued enough to say yes.

So this is a dragon fae. It's the only thing Yutu can bring himself to think when he sees Malleus, the other, more intense thoughts and emotions are distracted by the fireflies that accompany his father's arrival. They're beautiful, he can't remember having seen anything like them before, certainly not in his future. His father looks at him in brief surprise, and magic tingles up Yutu's spine. It's similar to the feeling he had when he first saw his sister, like recognizing like and seeking to form a connection. It hurts to shut himself off, but he smiles and focuses on his humanity as he puts forward his hand. "Hello Mr. Tsunotarou, I'm Yutu." The smile that stretches its way across Malleus's face is pure amusement, he must have really liked this ruse. What did Yuu think about that when they learned?

"My the humans of your world are certainly brave." He shakes his hand proudly, clearly pleased at the normalcy of Yutu's treatment but still painfully unaware how to be normal about it. "I am deeply pleased to make your acquaintance."

Malleus adores Yutu. There's just something about him that activates a part of him that he wasn't aware of before, and while he doesn't understand what those emotions are he recognizes his increased need to be protective of Yuu for exactly what it is. His mind thinks of Yuu as his mate, in body and soul, and that does terrify him slightly. Yuu is so tragically human, they'll die if he takes them home. They'll die if he lets them go to their home. They'll die if he never says anything at all and lets his love rot out his heart alone in his tower while they freely move through the world without ever having known of his emotions-

I haven't given much thought as to how I would want a Malleyuu confession to go down, but I could see them starting a sort of awkward courting process where Malleus takes them for long, late night walks in the forest to slow dance alone, brings them roses and handcrafted jewels he silently begs for them to wear to show just how close they are getting- but however it happens there is at least an understanding that there is something between them by the time Yutu's disguise is knocked off and he's forced to come clean.

It's a reveal Malleus does not take well. Oh not that he hates his son, he is overwhelmed with such a powerful love and joy at the mere concept of his existence he could never- no it's the fact that his future. His happy ending, that he fucking deserves after everything that his family has been through, was robbed from him and he wasn't able to do anything about it other than go to sleep? Him? The most powerful mage (fifth actually but he doesn't care about that) in existence couldn't stop that? Unacceptable.

After Yuu gets him to calm down and soothes the brewing thunderstorm they both are very focused on the well being of their child. I feel like both Yuu and Malleus would want Yutu to have a chance to just enjoy himself, for him to take off the crown he was never meant to have and just. Breathe for a moment. That's part of Malleus's motivation for introducing him as his son to the Diasomnia gang, he wants his child to have a chance to have some fun with his Uncles and Pee Paw Lilia.

Sebek bursts into tears when he learns of Waka Sama jr's existence. I think he feels a sort of kinship with Yutu, they're both half fae and they both have a deep respect for Malleus. He's very shy when he sees how much respect Yutu has for him. He's surprisingly humble when Yutu thanks him for protecting him in the future, insisting that he was just doing his job. He likes listening to Yutu play the piano, I could see Yutu trying to teach Sebek how to play an instrument, partially to spend time with him and partially just because he is curious as to how tone deaf Sebek can be.

Silver is deeply concerned about Yuu and Yutu's safety. He organizes with Sebek and Lilia to change up their patrols to include defending the new members of the royal family . He is a bit confused as to why Yutu wants to just hang out with him when all he really does is train, but he also is glad that the little prince is willing to train with him and take Silver's concerns about his safety seriously. I could see Silver apologizing for not being able to defend his parent, genuinely distressed about his situation and Yutu being a bit awkward about it. He never thought to blame Silver ever, why would he? Yutu is not unused to Silver's kindness, but it still overwhelms him. It's a pure sort of love that challenges what Yutu thinks about the world, and he doesn't know what to do with that.

Now. Mr. Pee Paw. Lilia is probably the most excited out of the entire group, look at this kid. You see him? Living physical proof that humans and fae can get along! If a Draconia did it then you can too, Grandpa Leven would be so proud! The future is concerning sure, but now that he knows about it he can plan for it. Lilia might be old, but he is still has some fight left in him, and he is very happy to use it on securing Malleus's family's future.

Yes, he does try to cook for Yutu. He wants to make him a birthday cake because he insists that they should throw him a party even if it isn't his birthday so he can have one with his Pee Paw and Dad. Yes everyone forces Yutu to distract him so they can make sure they've got something edible. He's so sad about it, how could they, jail for the little prince, jail for 1000 years.

Malleus is overly confident about his ability to change the future. Failure isn't an option as far as he is concerned, he will find the person who dared to corrupt his perfect future and he will have his due. His son will never have to live in a world without him, and he will never have to live in a world that rejected Yuu. Someone clearly needs to be reminded of just who Malleus Draconia is, and that memory will not be pretty.

Bonus

So the little crown princess. She learns that her idiot younger brother is planning to go back in time without her and she is very angry about this. How dare he, she knows he can't do anything without her so she makes sure to tag along anyway.

I toyed with the future kid reveal coming from her just marching up to Yutu and giving him orders, but I also like the idea of the Draconia family finding her lost in the woods crying because of how distressed she is that she can't find her little brother. Either way she doesn't understand the need for secrecy and wants to spend every single second she can with her parents. She causes a lot of rain when she finally gets to meet Yuu in person, she had so many dreams about meeting them and now they're real and she can hug them- she's just got too many emotions in her little body send help.

The Draconia family has pretty easy to follow naming theme, but I wasn't too certain about what names to give Yutu and his sister. I like the idea of Princess Draconia being named Mallia after Lilia but I am less certain about Yutu. In my notes Miss Princes was just called Princess Tamago because she hatched out of an egg. That's not her name but I could see that being something Yutu calls her.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/attackfish/155865674048?source=share

Thoughts on this pist? The three pillar theory of Azula?

I think it's a shame that it started out as a genuinely good analysis that wasn't neglecting either Azula's "evil" side nor her "good/innocent" side, and was quickly derrailed into nonsense that either lies about or grossly misremembers canon events.

Here are the five mistakes that ruined this analysis (and plenty of others).

1 - Unwillingness to accept that, while Azula is wrong about Ozai, she is 100% right about Ursa

Ozai was an abusive parent towards both of children. Ursa was a better parent - this does not mean she was perfect.

We see her spending time one-on-one with Zuko, and sometimes including Azula in it, and looking happy when her children are seemingly getting along. So far, so good.

But she doesn't spend one-on-one time with Azula, Bryke describe Zuko as Ursa's FAVORITE, and Zuko himself does not defend his mother when Azula says she loved him more. Not so good.

When Zuko throws bread at the turtleducks and hurts one, Ursa is horrified, but only reprimands him a little before hugging him and playfully explaining to him why what he did was bad. Through the rest of the episode, we constantly see her either telling Azula to not speak the way she does or scolding her harshily - without ever explaining the reason why. Zuko, the year-old, is the only person that bothers to explain things to Azula (like Iroh coming home early because he's grieving and how that's not weakness) and question her in an attempt to force her to put herself in someone else's shoes (asking how she'd feel if their cousin wanted their dad to die).

Ursa's 10-year-old son, even when in a fit of rage, did a better job than her at parenting her 8-year-old daughter.

And, finally, this person mentions the comics as "proof" of Azula just "not understanding" that her mom totally was treating her and Zuko the same, unlike their dad.

In the comics, Ursa ignores her daughter, even she's in the room. She wakes Zuko up to say goodbye when she's banished, so he'll know he was loved, but doesn't do the same to Azula, meaning their last interaction was a fight. She then willingly forgets her own children, and then she has her memories back she rarely ever bothers to mention that Azula, who is in the middle of a psychotic episode, is missing. There's no concern for her well-being, only "Oh, I wonder how my OTHER daughter is doing." Can't even say her fucking name.

Ursa played favorites and it damaged her daughter. The mirror scene is quitely literally Azula desperately wanting Ursa to treat her like she used to treat Zuko - explaining what she did wrong, how she can be better, and assuring her that she is loved. The only time Azula is treated fairly by her mother was literally a hallucination.

2 - Bizarre need to make every mundane thing Azula does be connected to/a result of some pathological condition

Azula is a manipulative person, no one in their right mind can deny that - but I gotta laugh when people act like her giving her mom puppy-dog eyes and repeating the line Ursa probably used to make her kids play together is on the same level of her manipulating Long Feng, or that her playing a prank on Zuko and Mai is no different from messing with his head in "Avatar State."

Just because she is villain, doesn't mean everything she does has an evil, hidden motive. We first hear "Azula always lies" when she tells Zuko THE TRUTH about their dad going to murder him.

No one believes someone who is NEVER honest. No one gets attached to someone that is NEVER kind. Not dick move is a result of someone's greatest flaws. A child telling a white lie is not the same as some crazy scheme to manipulate someone.

3 - Not understanding that unhealthy/selfish love is not the same as FAKE love

I don't think I've ever been more mad at a line in an analysis about Azula (which is saying a lot) than I was when I read this person claim that Azula didn't genuinely love Mai and Ty Lee and justified with the absurd sentence "People don’t fall apart the way Azula did because somebody they love leaves them."

Yes, they do. When you have a ton of problems, be it psychological ones or life-problems, having the people you care about turn away from you can absolutely make you spiral out of control. You don't even need some kind of unhealthy, excessive dependence on them for that to be the case. Losing people is very painful, and during low points a great deal of pain can fuck you up.

Azula's dynamic with them is not healthy, but that doesn't mean her love isn't real. And I don't mean it in a "It's real FOR HER", no, it's just 100% real, plain and simple.

If Azula didn't care about them, she would have never done things like not punish Mai for blatanly disregarding her orders in The Drill, or apologize after making Ty Lee cry, admit she was JEALOUS, and then ask advice. She'd sure as hell not have conversation with her "mom" (herself) about how she hurt them and abused their friendship/her authority over them.

She loves her friends, but she was never taught how to have a normal, equal relationship with anyone. She was raised to see things as a matter of who is in charge and who is subordinate. She is the princess, therefore it's her right to put her wants and needs before that of her friends. She even says to "Ursa" that she doesn't have the option to NOT act like that, because "fear is the only reliable way."

That is a key factor of Azula's tragedy, because her relationship with Ozai is the center of her universe, it is the basis of all other relationships in her life - and it is rooted in her never doing anything to displease him because she's terrified not only of the potential punishment, but of also losing that bond. So she uses fears to keep others close to her, not realizing that if she didn't do that they wouldn't WANT to cut ties with her.

(Also, fuck me, I nearly punched my computer when I read "Ty Lee ran away with the circus to be free of Azula." She literally tells us it was about her bad relationship with HER PARENTS AND HER SISTERS. It had nothing to do with Azula - what is it with people and this obsessive need of blaming my girl for things we KNOW weren't her fault?)

4 - Not understanding that Zuko is more than just Azula's rival/the exemple of what happens when you displease Ozai

Azula loves her brother. According to the lead writer of the show, Zuko is the person Azula loves the most (after Ozai, hence all the tension in their relationship).

Azula didn't know Aang had any chance of survival until Zuko let it slip - when they were ALREADY home, meaning the plan to blame him for everything if Aang survived could not possibly exist yet.

In the following episode, she warns him to be careful when visiting Iroh, otherwise people could think they were plotting together. Zuko asks what she's gaining by letting him know, and she says she's just looking out for him - and it never comes back, because she was not lying. She WAS taking care of him.

The Last Agni Kai hits so hard because they COULD have had a good relationship if things were different. If Ozai and Ursa hadn't played favorites. If Ozai wasn't abusive. If Zuko hadn't left after Azula brought him home, or if Azula had understood WHY he left.

Even in "The Spirit Temple", one of the few comics that are actually good, Azula says she wished their mom had let Ozai kill Zuko... yet we see that her ideal, happy life includes her loving, unscarred brother that is super proud of her. She spends the entire comic saying Zuko is weak and a coward who can't face her, yet when she sees "him" (an hallucination) directly confroting her about her own mistakes and the pain she caused, demanding her to apologize, it is Azula herself who runs away to hide from him.

Azula hurt her brother many times, and she knows that - and she is in denial about the guilt she feels over it because feeling guilt over hurting someone who is "lesser" is a weakness and an imperfection, and she needs to be strong and perfect all the time.

If you disregard her conflicting feelings on her brother, you disregard half her character.

5 - Forgetting that Azula is a child soldier under Ozai's orders

This is THE big one, guys. It's astounding how people just forget that Ozai isn't just Azula's abusive parent, he is the absolute monarch that can legally punish her if she displeases him.

Does she repeatedly fight Zuko because of their rivalry? Sure. But half the time she's doing it because Ozai literally gave her the mission to do so.

Does she threaten Ty Lee at the circus because she doesn't like being told "no"? Yes... but also because Ty Lee would be a valluable team member, and she needs a small elite team to properly do the task Ozai gave her.

Even the Last Agni Kai happens in the context of "Ozai just told Azula that he's trusting her to protect defend their throne."

There's a reason why, at "The Beach", she can handle pretending to be regular girl instead of a princess, but is CONSTANTLY on "battle mode", trying to turn a game into a war, praising a guy's outfit by sayind it'd make thousands drown at sea with how sharp it is, and why her flirting game consists of "We'll take over the world together!"

She grew up seeing violence be normalized and glorified every second of the day, to the point that things don't even register to her as being violent at all anymore.

Of course she's toxic and full on hostile in her relationships, no matter how much she cares about the person in question: All she's ever known is war, and Ozai deliberately blurs the lines to make his abuse of her and Zuko seem normal.

You can't disregard "Ozai will punish me if I don't do this" as a factor when talking about Azula.

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

23. i gave my all (written)

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"Why are you so smiley?" Yeji asks, looking at you with an expression you can't quite read. It's almost as if she knows something you don't.

"I'm excited! I wrote this song and had a lot of fun doing it and the guys loved it." You say while brushing your hair, for some reason you want to look pretty tonight.

"So it's not about Yeonjun being there?"

"He was there last time," you try to defend yourself, " it's really not that big of a deal "

"I'm just saying," she smiles at your reflection in the mirror, "there's nothing wrong with liking someone."

"You think I like Yeonjun?"

"Doesn't matter what I think, but I feel like you need to hear it. It's totally fine if you like him, it's been amazing to see you all smiley and glowy again."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask genuinely confused. Sure, you'd been kinda off after breaking up with Sunghoon, but you wouldn't say it was that serious.

"It's been years since I've seen you this happy. You were fine with Sunghoon, but you weren't sparkling. Now, I'm not saying Yeonjun's like your soulmate or something like that, but you do have fun with him and there's just this aura around you... I'm probably not making any sense, but I just wanted to remind you that it's okay if you have feelings for him, or anyone else for that matter."

You want to ask why the sudden urge to say those things, but her phone rings and, judging by the big smile on her face, it probably is Felix so you smile at her and try to forget about it for the time being.

Getting ready to perform is still new to you, there's just so much going on and you can barely catch up. You can't be more grateful for the two idiots with you who, surprisingly, always seem to know what they're doing.

"Everything okay?" If there's one thing you've noticed about Hyunjin is how caring he is. He may always seem to be distracted or uninterested, but he's always looking out for those he cares about.

"Yeah," you try to sound convincing, "I'm just nervous, I guess."

"If you get anxious on stage, it sometimes helps to focus on something... or someone."

There's that same smile again. Hyunjin and Yeji are definitely on to something, but you don't get to ask about it before Jisung tells you to get going.

The view from the stage is one you'll never get used to. It's fun, of course it is, and you have a great time playing pretend with Hyunjin and Jisung, but you definitely feel way more comfortable being on the other side of the camera. This many people staring at you makes you feel anxious. You scan through the crowd, and see Sunghoon with Somi; he smiles at you awkwardly. You don't find in you to return the smile, but you do nod in his way.

And then you see him. Yeonjun is, just as he said, in the front row, next to his friends who are also cheering for you. You really appreciate Soobin's and Heesung's presence there, although you've just met them a handful of times, they look excited for you. However, you can't take your eyes off of Yeonjun.

Is it-

"You can do it!" Says Jisung with a hand on your shoulder.

Suddenly, you're more than aware of Sunghoon's eyes looking at you. It doesn't make sense for you to feel this anxious, you've done this a couple of times before and it was easy. Maybe because the first time you were pissed, and the second you were just a messenger for Hyunjin's feelings. Trying to sing something you wrote on your own was very different.

You're about to turn around, but you notice Yeonjun trying to catch your attention and gesturing for you to breathe deeply. You do as he tells you, mimicking his movements, and then you're unable to look in any other direction.

"Hi, everyone," your voice almost breaks. "We're still nameless but I'm sure you know my friends here so yeah. This is yet another original song and I'm personally proud of this one so I hope you enjoy it..."

You still feel weird. It's true that you already put an end to any negative feelings you had towards Sunghoon, but this is for you; for all of the months you spent wondering what you did wrong, for the time you lost blaming Sunghoon, for the guilt you felt, for your anger, your sadness, even your happiness. It's true that Sunghoon wasn't meant for you, that you've always worked better as friends, that he hurt you, that he made you happy, that he was there. This is a goodbye and a thank you.

And, still lost in someone's eyes, you think that maybe this is also a hello, a way to welcome new things to your life.

The song ends and your friends cheer, even Sunghoon smiles and, surprisingly, Somi looks like she's having fun. You don't stop to question anything. A sudden urge to see someone takes over you and you find yourself running to get off the stage and straight to someone, but something great in your way.

Minho is standing in front of you and he seems sad and apologetic. Under different circumstances, you'd feel bad for him, but right now you just want to see someone else.

"Can we talk?" he asks grabbing your wrist so you don't go away. "Please."

You don't want to waste time, and neither do you want to be cruel.

"You have five minutes."

"I'm sorry. For everything. I genuinely thought I was looking out for you, but I didn't have the right to tell you who to be friends with."

"No, you don't have any right."

"I want us to start over. I haven't been fair to you and I hurt your feelings. I'm really sorry, and I do understand that you may not forgive me right now, but I really hope you can at least think about it."

"Why? You never wanted to be my friend in the first place. You can't even stand me."

"I won't explain my feelings for you right now, I just wanted to apologize." He looks into your eyes and there's something there, some longing you don't understand. "If you decide to give me a chance, then we can discuss anything else."

You watch him turn around and get lost in the crowd. Why did he have to be this way? You just can't understand what he's trying to achieve, but you don't have the time to dwell on it cause, as soon as he's gone, Yeji hugs you and says how proud she is of you.

"You did amazing!" Says Karina excited.

"We have to celebrate." Maybe, but you know Felix is just looking for an excuse to spend more time with Yeji.

"We do," Yunjin, to no one's surprise, agrees, "but I think someone is waiting for you." She steps aside and you can finally see Yeonjun waiting for his turn to congratulate you.

It's endearing how he, as tall as he is, manages to look so tiny and awkward standing there as if your friends (specifically Minho's friends) were some kind of feral wolves ready to attack him.

You walk up to him and can't even hide the smile on your face, "Waiting for someone?" You ask playfully.

"Thought you'd never notice, you're quite popular." He smiles.

"What can I say? I'm a charmer like that."

He laughs and you laugh with him. Is it weird that you can't stop smiling whenever he's around? You can't be this happy all the time, right? Isn't something supposed to balance it out?

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" He asks trying to look serious.

"I still don't know."

"Don't make any plans, we have to celebrate your first song ever!" He looks so excited.

"Why not tonight? I think we're going to the club so you could come and maybe invite your friends."

"I wouldn't want to impose and I saw you with Minho earlier so I don't want to risk the chances of running into him again." He looks upset at the thought of even being in the same room as Minho.

"Fine," you give in, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Great!" You don't expect it, but he gets dangerously close to your face and kisses your cheek.

Before you can even react, he runs away and you're only sure it happened because Yeji is looking at you surprised.

"Don't even mention it!" You say before she even gets the chance to tease you.

She walks back to Felix, and Hyunjin takes her place beside you.

"Ready to get absolutely wasted?" You hear Hyunjin's excitement and you decide that's exactly what you're gonna do.

"Of course!"

notes:

more drama 🤡

Minho was there because Chan invited him and no one seemed to have a problem with that

yn didn't talk to him tho, she still has a lot to think about

yn drunk texting yeonjun is entirely Hyunjin's fault lol

hope you enjoy it and I'm trying my best to keep a balanced pace but sometimes I get the feeling that it's kinda rushed

pls let me know what you think!

taglist: (35/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @circus-of-thoughts @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro