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russellsppttemplates · 18 hours ago

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We learn to hold its hand (Charles Leclerc)

Two hearts that lost themselves in pain.

Two hearts that found eachother in love.

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity and writinb has been a good escape! I know this is a heavy topic, so proceed carefully, but I was feeling like writing this so here it goes... For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: cancer, death of close relatives (reader's and Charles' father), grief, hospital procedures

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"Bonjour papa", Charles greeted, running his hand over the photograph that was on the grave, "I just got back from the track where we did the testing for Sauber, the last one before the season starts. It's hard, but I'm not afraid", he gulped, "Because you taught me that, even if I'm afraid, I have to go with fear. To move forward, because that's the only way. In racing, I can do that, but I won't be able to continue my life without you because I won't be able to. I try. Every day, I try. For maman, especially, since she tries to be strong for me, Lorenzo and Arthur, and somewhere along the way, we gathered the strength we didn’t know we had, but when we realize it, there it is, supporting us. I'm sure it's you. Every day, I remember that afternoon when you taught me how to ride a bike. Your insistence on removing the training wheels from the big wheel that ended up with a wound on my knee and that made me scream a few times. I remember you telling me that there were worse things than that simple scratch. I never thought that one day we would have to face them and that they would be the main reason why you are no longer by my side", Charles wiped away the tears, while he couldn't help but smile at the beautiful memories that came back to him, "But more than that, I remember the day you put a kart in front of me for the first time. There, I knew it was love for life. Yes, like Francis Cabrel's song. Or that afternoon when I stepped onto the concrete of the best race circuit in the world. There, I knew that I would begin a story in which, even though I was the main character, I would never have been able to write all the chapters that have been completed so far without the help of your pen. That support, that dedication, that encouragement, that love, father. Without them, I would never be the Charles that I am today. There was so much left to say and so much to do. But I am grateful for everything we said and for everything we did. I remember you telling me that you could no longer be strong and you asked me to be. I miss you so much. I miss you so much that I cannot express in words. I just want to thank you for continuing to light my path and for being the best father in the world. You are not by my side, but you are on my side. I feel that, every day. Thank you for continuing to support me in every race and in every challenge that life throws at me. Thank you for being so present, even though you're so far away. I miss you every day. And I feel you with me every day. Je t'aime, papa", he says goodbye, standing up and shaking off the little dirt on his jeans.

He picks up his backpack and starts walking towards the cemetery exit, but a sweet, melodious voice makes him stop walking. Charles looks in its direction, observing a female figure who, sitting next to someone's grave, was quickly but skillfully strumming the acoustic guitar and, at the same time, singing the song he had included in today's conversation with his father. Je l'aime à mourir by Francis Cabrel. Charles smiles at such coincidence and turned his back, picking up his pace, but soon stopping again, feeling a great need to go and meet that girl whose voice conveyed the pain he knew so well - loss.

Charles swallowed hard and instead of walking away, he found himself getting closer and closer to the young woman who, judging by your physical features, was probably around his age.

He waited for you to finish the song to make myself present, since you hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I miss you every day, Lucas. I wish you were here. It would make everything so much easier", he heard you say, through tears, and he felt the impact of all her words. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel the same way.

Charles looks at the person you were visiting and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he notices the photo of a boy who couldn’t have been more than eight years old in that portrait. The date of death was twelve years ago.

"Who are you?", you ask.

Charles quickly woke up from his thoughts, focusing his gaze on you, now curiously appreciating him. The colour of your eyes, the way your hair fell down your back and your bare skin faacinaged him.

"Forgive me", he requested, a little embarrassed, "I heard you sing and I couldn't help but come here and tell you that you sing very well and that the person you dedicated the song to probably agrees with me", he replied and your shy laugh made him laugh too.

"Thank you", you offered, quite embarrassed, which was still funny, "He's my twin brother. He was eight years old when he left", you pointed to the portrait you had looked at moments before.

"My father. He passed away a couple of months ago", Charles decided to share the reason why he was also there.

"My brother had a rare blood disease, a cancer doctors were never able to identify. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy were not enough to cure him. In fact, the body of an eight-year-old boy could only handle so much at that time. I was the same age, but I will never forget my brother’s suffering and the strength he had until the end. My childhood innocence was taken from me that day. I am not an example to anyone. The true example of life left more than a decade ago, on a journey that still had a long way to go had it not ended the way it did", you said as you packed your things, letting your anger speak.

Charles noticed the crack in your voice and a few seconds later, he heard your sniffle.

The first instict he had was that he wanted to hug you in that moment and reassure you with just his arms, since words would never be enough comfort at a time like that. And at the same time, he felt that you needed to talk to someone who, being unknown and impartial, would never judge you for the anger you were experiencing.

"My father battled cancer for a few years but, unfortunately, he ended up losing the fight in July. However, the real winner is him. For so many reasons: for the way he faced the reality that was knocking on his door, for how he forced us to face it in the most positive way possible, so that it would become a little easier, and for the way he prepared us for his departure. He is a true hero. If, one day, I can be half the man and father that he was and is, you can be sure that I will leave this life happy", Charles spoke.

"They truly are the heroes who left early to prove that angels really exist", you said, looking at Charles intently in a way made him feel like an open book in front of the most beautiful reader he had ever seen in his life.

"I couldn’t agree more", Charles murmured, too caught up in the gaze of that twenty-year-old girl who was so much more like him than he had thought.

"Y/N", you held out your hand and he smiled at your introduction.

"Charles", he reciprocated, fitting his hand in yours, which you immediately shook.

And there, he knew that you were marked by the wound that would never heal and by the feeling that would never disappear: pain.

There, those two hearts that were lost in pain would be the same ones that would find each other in love.

Charles got up from the floor, after the usual daily conversation he shared with his father after training. He noticed you in the same position you had been in before, but this time, you were reciting poems from a small book you had in your hand, completely distracted from your surroundings.

It was the first time in almost three weeks that he had seen you again. You had stopped showing up at the same time as he did and for a moment he thought you were avoiding him. But he soon put those thoughts aside. After all, if you didn’t even know each other that well, what was the need?

“Y/N", Charles said as he approached you, alerting you of his presence.

You looked at him with a shy smile and immediately stood up as well, "I haven’t seen you around here since", he added and you laughed softly.

"In the last three weeks, I came in the morning, because of the internship I'm doing. I had to change schedules with a colleague and I couldn't come in the afternoon. Now everything is back to normal, so here I am", you explained and he nodded in understanding, "You never miss your schedule", you pointed out it was his turn to laugh.

"This is the best time for me to come because this way, I can spend more time with my father before the cemetery closes", Charles explains and you nod, "Hmm, I really like talking to you but, is it just me who thinks we're not in the best place?".

Your beautiful laugh makes him laugh too, "Without shadow of a doubt", you agreed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I bet you're hungry", Charles assuredly and you laughed again.

"Very", you dmitted, blushing, which made him smile at your embarrassment, "the line at the bakery in front of where I work was too long and, I'm sorry, but patience has never been my strong point", you defended yourself and he giggled.

"So it's better to go without food...?", Charles quirked an eyebrow as he asked, surprised and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I wouldn't go without food, obviously. I was just going to have to snack something later", you shrugged.

Once you stood outside the cemetery, you looked at each other intensely, not knowing what to say, "Would you accept an invitation for a snack?", Charles gathered the courage to ask and it was your turn to laugh at his shyness.

"Yes", your positive answer made him smile.

"Do you have a car?", he asked and you said no.

"Not yet. It’s at the mechanic’s", you made a face of disgust and Charles laughed, "the good news is that my father can pick it up at the end of this week. You have no idea how much I need it for my internship", you complained and Charles smiled at you relaxed way.

"Then you’re coming with me", he invited and you thanked him.

Charles lead you to his car and you smiled in gratitude when he opened the door for you so you could get in.

"And, if you’ll allow me, can I know what you study, Y/N?", Charles asked curiously, when you were already in line at the caffè, the place being chosen by the young woman during your journey, which had been made in a silence that Charles wouldn’t consider awkward but also not very comfortable. The awkwardness was still there.

"Radiology and radiotherapy", you replied, letting out a smile, "Twelve years ago, for a few months, I followed my brother's fight and was inspired by the humanity of those doctors and the team responsible for his case. The way he was treated, the constant encouragement in his recovery, the words and friendly shoulder they gave my parents, and even me, the way they prepared us for the worst and the way they accompanied us in our mourning, was truly human and truly inspiring. And there, I decided that this was something I would like to do in the future. I want to help others like they helped me more than a decade ago", you said proudly, earning a big smile from Charles.

You were interrupted when it was your turn to make the requests and respective payment. Charles insisted on paying the entire bill and you gave in, after much insistence from his behalf.

"Next time, you'll pay", Charles promised, as you walked aimlessly through the streets of Monaco.

"Will there be a next one?", you asked, laughing and Charles couldn’t help but look away from your shy eyes, "It’s a promise, then", you added and Charles looked at you again, already looking at him with a smile.

You ended up sitting on the lawn of a garden, finally digging into your food.

"And you? Can I know what you study?", you asked, equally curious and Charles laughed, still feeling a little satisfied that you didn’t know him as a Formula One rookie.

"I’m a race driver", he told you and you looked at him in surprise.

"What category? And which team?", you asked with interest and he smiled.

"The best in the world and the biggest one in racing", he replied, not wanting to say the team's name directly, because that way he would be able to know which one she supported.

"Do you race for Ferrari?", you asked and Charles smiled broadly, happy with what he had heard.

"I was in their academy last year", Charles confirmed and you smiled.

"How come I've never seen you there?", your curiosity and interest were something that satisfied him. After all, he wasn't the only one who wanted to know more.

"I was in Formula Two with Prema", he explained and her "makes sense", spoken in English, made him laugh.

"But tell me something. Are you regular at races?", Charles asked and you nodded.

"You could say that", you both laughed, "My father and grandfather were always

big racing fans. In fact, they are. And they passed that love on to Lucas", you smiled and looked down at the ground, "The few times he wasn't in the hospital, he was at the track. What he felt for racing was something I had never seen before. It was contagious. Everyone infected Lucas and he infected me. After his death, I promised myself to accompany my father and grandfather, and even go there alone, to every race that was done there. It was, and is, a way of feeling Lucas with me. That’s why I love racing so much", you looked at him with teary eyes, letting the tears fall when Charles brought his thumb to your face, caressing it.

"I’m sorry", you murmured and he quickly denied it, so that you would know that everything was okay.

"You’re inspiring, Y/N. I hope you know that", Charles offered.

You shook your head, smiling, "No, I don't think so. I’m just an eight-year-old child, in the body of a twenty-year-old girl who cries every night, wishing her brother was by her side", you spoke, with some difficulty, and Charles swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to comfort you.

"No, Y/N. You are a young 20-year-old woman who lost her brother at the age of eight and who, even today, is learning to deal with his absence", Charles said and you quickly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes, unable to help but sigh heavily.

"So, tell me, how does it feel to wear red? I clearly have been focusing in specific catehorues", you asked with a smile and Charles smiles at your change of subject.

"Incredible. It is a dream come true. I have no words to thank the trust that my team put in me, and how stepping into F1, even if it's not Ferrari, is a huge sense of responsibility, after all, you’re representing one of the best teams in the sport, the best in the world for me", Charles proudly answered your question, not avoiding remembering the day he signed his first professional contract with the unspoken promise and hope of a place in the Scuderia.

"How many years has it been?", you asked.

"I've been with the best the world for a few years", you both smiled.

“We could go watch the historic race this Saturday on the track just outside the city", you invited Charles and he smiled at you initiative, not hesitating to nod.

“I was already thinking of going, but now I’m really going to", Charles answered and you blushed.

"Can you give me your phone number so we can arrange things better?", Charles asked, feeling brave enough to do so, and you nodded.

You exchanged contact details and chatted a little longer until you were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Charles waited for the call to end and returned the smile you gave him.

"Typical motherly concern", you explained, and Charles laughed, nodding along

"I know how it feels", he commented and it was your turn to smile

"Since my brother passed away, my mother, who was already overprotective, has become even more so. I don’t blame her for that, quite the opposite. I have learned to deal with it and I don’t make her life harder, I have a very open relationship with my mother. My first academic choice was not Monaco, but in Montpellier", you said as Charles made such curiosity known and looked at you, "But the truth is that I couldn’t even finish the first semester in the city because I couldn’t stand being alone. It was as if the pain multiplied by mixing with the loneliness that I felt. We were so close that I couldn’t separate the pain of having to leave for one of my dreams. I wasn’t prepared for the nights when nightmares haunted me and the absence of my brother was felt more than ever. So, I asked my parents to come and get me and I moved back to Monaco, where it didn't get easier but it wasn’t as difficult as being alone. Since my brother left, we’ve gotten even closer. But the first few days were the hardest. My mother became depressed, my father closed himself off a bit more and, at the age of twelve, I let myself be suffocated by the feelings I had no one to talk to, until my father learned to deal with the pain and helped us do the same. Someone needed to get back on their feet and help others get back on their feet too, and my father was my hero. We sought out the best psychologists for my mother and her progress was very positive, but in truth, what she was doing, and rightly so, was mourning the loss of the most real, pure and true love in the world. She was mourning the death of her son. And she did it in the only way she knew how. Today, we continue to do it, but we do it differently. And if people now talk and watch us go about our day to day lives, it's not because it no longer hurts - because it hurts a lot - it's because we've learned to embrace pain and deal with it. We hold its hand. I think the learning process is lifelong. And I'm going to die, still learning how to deal with it", you said, and the impact of your words prompt Charles to shed a tear, which was joined by all the others, for all the memories that hit him.

"I miss him so much", Charles whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Charles could see you get closer to him, smiling faintly when you pulled him into a hug he didn't hesitate in joining.

You fit perfectly on his chest, head nestled there as he hugged you by your waist, enveloping you and kissing the top of your head without a hitch.

And in that first touch of many, you got to know eachother through the way you both knew so well - pain. And right there, without knowing, you started another one - love.

Charles was coming home after another training session, the last one before the charity race he was participating in which would take place the next day at ten in the morning. Today was also the historic race day, the race he would watch with you, after meeting up every day that week at your usual spot - although it wasn’t the happiest, you always ended up going to different places in the capital city, where you took the opportunity to get to know each other better.

"Charles", he heard his mother call out and smiled, going to meet the woman who was preparing dinner.

"Hi, maman”, he kissed her hair and bent down a little so she could kiss his cheek, “I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you", he looked at her with a guilty expression, "I'm not going to have dinner at home", he continued, enjoying the meat she was cooking that smelled very good.

"It's all right", Pascale smiled, "you're going to watch the historic race with Joris and Riccardo, aren't you?", she asked, as they were usually his company.

"Well, about that..", Charles mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture of confusion that didn't go unnoticed by the oldest in the room.

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval! What aren't you telling me?", his mother asked, genuinely curious, and he laughed out loud when she turned off the stove and crossed her arms, waiting for him to start talking.

"I'm going with a girl", he started and saw her smile grow at the information he had given her, "her name is Y/N. She is twenty years old and is a final-year student in the radiology and radiotherapy course. Unfortunately, we did not meet under happy circumstances, but the time we have spent together has allowed us to create and experience moments that go beyond that", he explained, avoiding his mother’s gaze to hide his slight embarrassment.

"Where did you meet?", Pascale wanted to know.

"At the cemetery. It was during one of the visits I paid to papa, three weeks ago. She lost her twin brother to a rare blood disease that doctors were never able to identify. Y/N was eight years old when he passed away. I have never related with anyone as much as I did with her. She understands me. In fact, we understand each other. She is simply beautiful in every way", Charles shrugged, not avoiding a smile as he remembered you.

"Charles, is it just me or are you in love?", his mother asked with a smile as she hugged him, fitting into his arms.

"It’s not possible, maman. Only this week that we’ve gotten closer", he replied, not avoiding a nervous laugh.

Pascale laughed, "and since when did that stop you from feeling something for that young woman? Charles, amour, it’s not the time of things but the intensity with which we experience them", she wisely advised and Charles nodded, smiling weakly.

"Thank you for everything, maman. Je t'aime", he whispered against her hair, leaving a kiss there.

"Never forget that you, as well as your brothers, are my pride and the light of my eyes. Je t'aime, Charles", Pascale spoke.

Charles held his mothee on his arms, wanting her to be aware of the infinite gratitude he felt for her.

Pascale pulled away, wiping her tears, and smiled at Charles, "Come on, I don’t want you like this!", Charles asked and she laughed, waving.

"I’m fine", his mother assured, "Now go take a shower and get ready so you don’t keep the girl waiting. I’ll make you a bowl of cereal, so you can eat something before you go", she warned and smiled, getting a kiss on her forehead.

"You’re the best!!", Charles exclaimed, leaving the room, and she laughed.

"I know!", she said, laughing, and Charles laughed at her expression.

Once he got to his bedroom, Charles chose a presentable outfit, wanting to dress appropriately and blend in with all of the fans and enjoy the race that was probably one of the last moments before everything flooded in. The PR team had already warned him that once he was in Formula One, everything changed and he hoped he could have this evening.

He ran to the bathroom, took a quick and relaxing shower, and got dressed without rushing, making sure he looked his best. After that, he went back to the kitchen, where his mother was still, finishing the preparations for dinner.

“Since I didn’t have any company for the meal, I invited your cousins”, she said.

Charles gave her a guilty smile, "I'm really sorry, maman", he spoke sincerely, and it was her turn to laugh, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Charles, I was just kidding. I want you to go and enjoy Y/N's company. I haven't even met her yet and I already like her", she commented.

"Oh really? Why is that?", Charles wondered, really interested.

"Why? Because every time you talk about her, it's impossible for you not to smile. And I like that", she admitted and he blushed, hearing his mother giggle at his shyness.

"Maman!", he mumbled and the older woman laughed.

"What's wrong?", she asked, pretending not to notice as her son rolled his eyes, laughing.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything, I should've stayed quiet", Charles complained and she laughed out loud.

"As if I wouldn't eventually find out, Charles", she winked, convinced, and Charles laughed at the joviality that characterized his mother, even after everything that life had put her through.

They were closer than ever and he felt very comfortable sharing any kind of subject with her, she was his best friend and the best thing in his world.

"I really have to go", Charles announced, looking at his watch, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

"Do you have everything with you, amour?”, she asked and he looked at her confused.

“Yes, why?”, Charles answered with another question, while he set the bowl of cereal in the sink.

"Are you sure?", she insisted and he snorted, patting his pockets and checking that nothing was missing.

"I have everything", he replied, kissing her forehead as a way of saying goodbye, "I'll see you later. Je t'aime!", he shouted from the living room and heard her laugh.

"Do you have the condoms with you?", Pascale asked, giggling, and Charles almost choked on his own saliva.

He couldn't believe it.

"Seriously, maman?", he made himself heard out loud.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Charles? I too was a young woman your age once. And I'm too young to be a grandmother!", she said, coming to meet him at the door, and she couldn't help but laugh when she saw his embarrassment.

"I'm leaving!", Charles exclaimed, leaving a last kiss on her cheek and walking all the way to the car while laughing, knowing his mother never missed the opportunity and had a great ability to embarrass her own son.

Charles got in the car and drove off towards your house which, even after a week, continued to leave him astonished by the external beauty that set it apart from the others in the same neighborhood. He sent you a quick text letting you know that he was already waiting for you and, about three minutes later, he heard a door slam, looking in the direction of the noise and not helping but smile when he saw how you were dressed appropriately for the race.

"Wow, yes, we have a racing fan", he complimented and the brunette giggle.

You were dressed in a vintage jacket, an allusive cap with the peak turned backwards and the rest of the outfit complimented it.

The rest of the journey to the track was transformed into a karaoke session, "tell me if we don't make an unbeatable singing duo", you joked as you walked towards the interior of the building where you would be sitting.

"Like society hasn't seen in many years", Charles joined in your joke and you laughed

Charles put his right hand on your shoulder, hugging you and guided you through the crowd so that you wouldn’t lose each other. He heard his name being called and two kids running towards him, making you stop walking. He greetd them with a smile and they ask for a photo that would be the responsibility of the woman who was waiting for them to position themselves, "your girlfriend can also join the portrait", the oldest women pointed to you, and you couldn't help but blush, making Charles smile sideways when he noticed such a thing.

"We're not-", Charles didn't let you finish.

"Come here, Y/N", he asked and the lady waved, heading towards you.

After the photos were taken, the kids thanked Charles, immediately disappearing from our sight, "Do you want to see something around here or would you rather go inside now?", Charles chatted up while you tried to show yourself less embarrassed.

He couldn't help but admit that he was enjoying seeing you like that and, more than that, knowing that he was the one that made you feel that way.

"We can go inside, since race time is very close", you preferred and Charles nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the entrance.

You greeted the various security guards who were there and headed to the place that your tickets indicated. Because Charles belonged in a professional driving championship, he was entitled to the VIP stands.

"Wow", you exclaimed, truly enchanted by the view you had of the track, which was undergoing the final touches before opening its doors to the public.

"Have you never been here before?", Charles asked and saw you deny it, while remaining astonished, appreciating the atmosphere around you.

"Only for a visit when Lucas was with us, never when there was an actual race happening. This is going to be great", you finally looked at him, offering him a smile, "thank you, Charles", you spoke and he acknowledged the sincerity of your words, smiling at you broadly.

“You’re welcome", he downplayed the situation, just hoping you would feel good, "I don’t know if you drink, but would you like a beer? Or perhaps some wine?", he asked and you laughed.

“I don’t usually drink, but today I can make an exception", you accepted and Charles smiled.

“Are you sure? You have every right to say no" he made it clear and you laughed, denying it.

“Seriously, Charles, we can go", you insisted and he waved, giving you space so you could go ahead of him.

The crowd there was huge, but that didn't stop you from drinking and snacking before the race started.

"The teams are getting ready", Charles said as you finished our drinks and you waved, standing up and opening your wallet to take out the money.

"Hey you! What are you doing?", Charles quickly intervened, placing his hand on yours to stop your movements.

"Charles, what did you promise? 'You'll pay next time', that's what you said", you imitated his tone of voice and you burst out laughing.

"Can't you wait until next time?", he insisted and you gave him a death glare, making Charles realise there wasn't much he could do.

"Okay then", he gave in and you giggled smugly.

You went back to your seats after you paid, watching everyone get ready for the race.

"Do you have a favourite driver?", Charles wondered.

"I don't think so. Each one has something to offer to the races, and it's not like many of them are here", you spoke before seeing Lewis Hamilton approach one of the cars.

A song came on and you pulled Charles to dance with you, singing in his ear as he smiled, tightening his grip on your waist. "Now comes the part that no one knows how to sing", you added, moving away from Charles a little and he could notice your shyness, most likely because of the action you had done before.

You danced awkwardly, which earned you a couple of looks, and stopped when the announcer of the track, already full, made himself heard, announcing the race was about to start.

"I love this part", you smiled, getting a kiss from Charles on the hair that was not covered by your cap.

The race started out well and everything seemed to be going as they hoped, the announcer mentioning some facts they had about the historic race.

"THAT'S AN OVERTAKE!", you shouted and the entire section stood up, celebrating yet another great move from Lewis.

You screamed euphorically, pulling Charles into a quick hug, before joining in the celebrations with the rest of the fans.

This girl was out of this world, Charles thought.

"I've never seen a girl like you", he said, automatically enchanted by you.

"That's because I'm an exclusive edition", you joked and you both laughed, "Is that good?", you asked seriously.

Charles returned your gaze, nodding, "Very. You're different from everyone I've ever met", he admitted and you smiled, looking away from him.

"Good. That way, I don't have to worry about them", you shrugged.

Charles smiled, satisfied with the answer you had given him, "Come here" he asked in an act of courage, hugging you while you rested your head on his chest and focusing your attention on the race.

When the race ended for a break until the next one, you took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, while Charles chose to do the same.

Since he was quicker than you, given that the line was shorter, he waited for you outside, where there was a line of young people who were looking at him curiously.

"Finally", Charles muttered to himself as he watched you leave the compartment.

"What happened? Were you feeling watched over?", you made fun and he stuck his tongue out at you, pulling you closer to him. "Watched over?! It seemed like the girls were undressing me with their eyes", he accused.

"That was most likely exactly what was happening", you confirmed and he looked at you in shock, which made you laugh again, "What?! You can't judge them!", you argued.

Charles laughed, honestly pleased with what he had heard, "Oh really? Have you also undressed me with your eyes?", he whispered in youe ear.

"No, I prefer to do it with my hands", you murmured against his mouth and walked ahead of him, leaving him perplexed.

Well, take that, Charles, his subconscious spoke and he chuckled - the ability you had to leave him speechless was unbelievable. Noticing the faces you were making, he decided to return to your seats, where you were already dividing your attention between your cell phone and the track.

"What are you watching?", Charles asked, moving closer to you to observe what you were watching, spending some time watching the silliness and fun on her screen.

"The game is going to start again", Charles said as you quickly turned off the electronic device and hugged his waist, while you paid attention.

"What is he doing to Lewis?", Charles complained.

"Do not play around with him!", you joined.

"Maybe there's a favourite after all?", Charles teased you.

"Maybe, he is very skilled and handsome", you shrugged.

"Oh, good", Charles murmured, feeling a pang of jealousy at the way you had spoken about the driver.

Your laugh made him realize that you had noticed, "Charles, are you jealous?", you mocked and he rolled his eyes, avoiding looking at you.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know that word", he shrugged, trying to make you forget the subject but you didn’t give in.

Instead, you brought your hand to his face, making him look at you, "I’m here with you, aren’t I?", you asked seriously and he smiled weakly, nodding along, "So it’s not Lewis that interests me", you concluded, paying attention to the track again.

Charles sighed, pulling you closer to him, a gesture that made you smile.

Once the race ended, you headed towards the outside, trying to avoid the confusion as much as possible.

"Shall we eat something?", Charles asked you, intertwining your fingers, and you smiled shyly at him, which made him chuckle.

"Please!", you agreed and laughed out loud. "Suggestions?", he asked and you looked thoughtful.

"The center might not be a good idea because it must be full after this", you ruled out, "that new panini shop?", you suggested and he agreed.

You got in the car and headed towards the shop, ordering it to go and Charles ended up choosing a nice spot that overviewed the city.

"Tomorrow I'm going to race", he began, "I know it's not your tradition, but I'd like for you to come watch", he invited and you smiled.

"I'll be there", you agreed and it was his turn to smile, "At what time is it?", you wondered.

"At 10:00 in the morning. I know it's Sunday but...", Charles trailed off.

"Tomorrow, at that time, I'll be there to support you", you promised and he thanked you.

Charles parked the car and you got out of the vehicle, enjoying the fresh night air, which was quite pleasant. He cleaned his shirt and pants again and heard you laugh as you came closer to help him with the crumbs.

"Clumsy", you criticized jokingly, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

You sat down on one of the benches that were there and you sighed, making Charles look in your direction.

"How peaceful", you whispered, while keeping your eyes closed and a small smile on your lips.

"Monaco is really beautiful", Charles said, hearing you agree with a small murmur.

You took off your cap and tried to fix you hair, making Charles laugh.

"Let me help you", he gently asked and you turned to him, letting him fix the rebelliousness that characterized you.

As soon as he finished, he continued to caress them, which made you close you eyes to enjoy the affection.

"Kiss me", you murmured and he looked at you in surprise.

"What?", Charles asked, trying to understand if he had heard correctly.

"Kiss me, Charles", you repeated.

"Can I?", still astonished, he wanted to make sure.

"You should", you replied as Charles smiled at your answer and pulled you towards him, appreciating the serenity of your face.

"Finally", Charles whispered against your mouth before finally placing your lips together for the first time - of many, he hoped.

You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth when he silently asked for permisson and he intensified your kiss, truly surrendering to you.

And in eachother's lips, you discovered the path to peace, the one you both had lost years before with the pain that had overwhelmed you.

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, quickly getting up, not wanting to be late for Charles' race,

"Y/N, dear?", you heard the surprise in you mother's voice and couldn't help but laugh. "Hi, mama", you said, giving her permission to come in, and she did so.

"Are you going to tell me why you're up at this hour? Of all people, you who hibernates all weekend!", she joked and you stuck out your tongue, which made her laugh.

"I just felt like getting up, that's all", you said briefly, as you looked through your closet, looking for the most presentable, yet comfortable, clothes possible.

"And why are you going to dress so nicely if you're going to spend the whole day at home?", she mused, suspiciously, and you laughed at her curiosity.

"Okay, mama, you win", you eventually gave in and she celebrated, which made you laugh out loud.

"I'm going to watch the charity race", you said and her curious look made you realize that her questions were only at the beggining.

"Who's your boyfriend from there?", she didn't hesitate to ask and you looked at her, shocked etched on your face.

"Why do I have to have a boyfriend to watch the race?", you asked, astonished and she looked at you with an expression that said to not mess with her.

"Your mother is old but she's not stupid, Y/N", she scolded, laughing and you followed.

"Mama, you are forty-eight years old. You are a young woman", you complimented her, trying to make her drop about the subject and the older woman laughed.

"Yes, yes, sweetheart. Now the question I asked you", she insisted and you laughed, shaking your head.

"I don't have a boyfriend, mama. But I have a friend who would like me to go and I'm going", you told her and the smile she gave you made you blush.

"Name?", she wanted to know and you snorted, making her laugh.

"How annoying", you rumbled and she laughed again, "Charles".

"Then I hope this Charles takes care of you or the wooden spoon will fly", she threatened and you couldn't help but laugh with her.

"You're amazing, mama", you replied and she laughed, coming towards you and kissing your forehead.

"I just want you to be happy", she muttered, while caressing your face and smiling.

"I am", you assured her and she smiled, before walking away, leaving you alone again. You ran to the private bathroom and took a quick shower, leaving it shortly after so you could get ready in time. You applied some light makeup and dried your hair, leaving it in its natural waves.

You went down the stairs, passing through the living room, patting Simba on the head, the old Labrador who had always been with you, and whose name was based on Lucas' favorite movie.

"Good morning", you greeted your parents, although you had already spoken to your mother.

"Up so early, my dear?", your father was surprised and you looked at my mother, who was already looking at you with a suggestive smile that made you roll you

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc angst

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monvirtu · 13 hours ago

Note

omg hii can i pls request cc!quackity hcs of him proposing 😣 (maybe where r is also content creator?)

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

⋆ precis ~ headcanons on quackity proposing!

⋆ tags ~ romance, use of quackity's real name, proposing, kissing, and fluff.

⋆ notes ~ hello! thank you for being my first quackity request, and i hope you enjoy!

⋆ after dating him for a few years, it's finally been decided that he should propose.

⋆ he had his doubts whenever the topic was brought up, which is why it took him quite a while to decide on the life-changing decision, but after realizing that you would likely say yes, he decided to go for it.

⋆ now, even though you both are content creators, he wouldn't even think about streaming it. he wouldn't want to stream it. he doesn't want the whole world watching him do something intimate, and he doesn't want you to feel pressured by the viewers.

⋆ there's two ways his proposal could go.

⋆ it would either just be you two doing all your favourite things that day, and he would take you on a vacation somewhere to do it, or it would be somewhere in front of his family.

⋆ he seems like a big family guy, and his family did help him gain the confidence to do it. he would at least want his close family to be there if you were okay with it, and you could invite yours, too!

⋆ if you're the type to read, or watch romance movies, he's taking notes on the proposals in them. he'll watch movies with you just to see which proposal is your favourite out of all of them, or he'll even read the books you do just to see if he could make some of those proposal scenes happen.

⋆ with the ring, he's getting you an expensive one per your preferences. he'll get you gold if you like it, silver, rose gold, etc. whatever you like, he's getting, and he'll find one with a gem that's your favourite colour.

⋆ he'll probably even pay to get your initials and his engraved on the inside of the ring because he's extra.

⋆ on the day of the proposal, he's giddy. all smiley and bouncy, but he also looks nervous. his smile twitches the more he goes into thought about the whole idea, and his eyes flicker around more than usual.

"alexis?" your questioning tone was quiet compared to the chatter around you, for the restaurant he had taken you to was fairly packed. though, despite all the people around, his eyes were only on you.

"yeah?"

"are you okay? you've been acting off today..." you watched as he took a drink from his cup, and he slowly nodded while an apprehensive smile crossed his face. "i'm fine. i'm just tired."

you couldn't blame him, for you were a little tired too. the both of you had been running around all day doing activities, so it wasn't shocking to hear that. yet, you couldn't help but feel like something was still up.

"do you want to go back to the house after this?"

"no."

his quick denial made your eyes widen as you stared at him, and he cleared his throat before taking a sip of his drink. "i have more stuff planned..."

"more? alexis, did something happen? why are we doing all these things?" your curiosity was getting the better of you, and you heard him let out a quiet sigh before a waiter walked over.

"can we get the check, please?" the waiter gave a firm nod while his eyes flickered to yours, and he reached over the table to take your hand in his. "i just thought it would be nice if we got to have a whole day with just us..."

after that, you thought nothing of his nervousness or the number of activities you both were doing.

it was just a day for both you and him, right?

⋆ that was until the last thing you both would do.

⋆ if he decided to not do the proposal in front of his family, he'd secretly set up a camera somewhere so he could at least get your reaction. he'll have the memory in his mind forever, sure, but he still wants to get it on camera so he can look back at it.

⋆ he'd take you to a romantic place, like a bridge with fairy lights, and he would make sure that there were barely any people around.

⋆ you'd both be talking and laughing, and right when you turn your back to look at something and then turn around, he's on one knee in front of you with a ring in hand.

⋆ he wouldn't have it in a box, by the way. he was scared that the box would be too prominent in his pockets, so he just put the ring in his pocket.

⋆ also, whatever language is your first language, he's learning it for you. he will learn how to pronounce any language just to give you a speech on how much he loves you, and wants to marry you.

⋆ sure, he may sound silly depending on the language, but you could still tell what he was saying due to the number of times he went over the speech to get it right. it's the thought that counts.

⋆ he would stammer over his words though, but that would be purely because of nerves. it wouldn't be shocking if he was trembling a little bit because his mind would be full of thoughts and worries.

⋆ but once you say yes, the stammer and trembling would vanish. he'd slip the ring onto your finger before pulling you into a kiss, and he'd keep you there for a while because of how happy he would be.

⋆ he'd be giggling the rest of the night, and before you go to bed.

⋆ it would be concerning on how wide his grin would be because you know it probably hurts, but he doesn't care. he's just happy you said yes.

⋆ now, bringing up the fact you're a content creator too, he wouldn't verbally tell chat until they figured it out.

⋆ you'd both be streaming and he'd be holding the hand that has your ring on it, and he'd constantly bring it up to his lips to kiss just so the camera can see it.

"chat, why are you spamming?" the tease in his tone was hard to miss, along with the grin on his face as you watched what the viewers were typing.

ilikemen21214: IS THAT A RING ON [NAME]'S FINGER???

slimecicle: THAT IS A VERY FANCY RING [NAME] I WONDER WHO GOT THAT FOR YOU AND WHAT THE OCCASION IS AND WHY YOU SUDDENLY GOT THAT RING AFTER THAT LONGGGGGG HANGOUT WITH QUACKITY EARLIER IN THE WEEK

hehehewhat: @.slimecicle ARE THEY MARRIED????

greenredpinkAAAAAA: THEY'RE MARRIED OMGGGGGG

"slimecicle, you ratted us out."

quackity's words rang out in the room, and it was replaced by laughter as chat started to spam about the proposal.

⋆ other creators would congratulate you, by the way. they would also joke about the wedding being duck-themed or minecraft theme.

⋆ and to those jokes, he'd always respond that he would do it as long as that was what you wanted.

⋆ you could ask for the theme to be something stupid and he'd say yes because he's still joyed that you said yes to his proposal.

⋆ and he'd stay that happy forever because he's head-over-heels in love with you.

©𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐔𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

writings are to not be reposted, translated, or plagiarized. if you wish to show your love for my work, feel free to reblog, comment, or like.

#mon ⋆ writes #quackity #quackity x reader #quackity x you #cc!quackity #cc!quackity x reader #cc!quackity x you #alexis #alexis x reader #alexis x you #streamer x reader #quackity fanfic #quackity imagine #quackity scenario

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kyrsse · 5 hours ago

Text

Heartstrings

୧⍤⃝ summary: The popular girl's life turned upside down when a charming skateboarder entered the picture. Things got even more chaotic as she navigates first crushes, secret dates, and the trials of teenage life. ୧⍤⃝ tags: Romance, Comedy, High School AU, First Kiss, High School romance, Skateboarder Rafayel, Popular Mc, Daddy sylusss rahhh! ୧⍤⃝ notes: I Accidentally bumped into an 'old friend', which made me reminisce and decided to turn it into a story. This was rushed so sorry for the mistakes. I decided to give mc a name but still wanted the mc to be there so I made it to Mckenzie. MC is her nn but it's still pronounced as em-cee cause mick is just ugly.

I was a top student, and performing music with my band was my absolute favorite part of school. I loved belting out our favorite tunes at every monthly event.

I seemed to have it all: good grades, decent looks (or so I was told), a bit of local fame, and a talent for music. But there was a boyfriend-shaped hole in my life. Not that I was desperate, mind you. I wasn’t some love-starved maniac. I received a mountain of chocolates and flowers every Valentine’s Day (and even on random Tuesdays), but my strict parents had a “no dating until you’re practically married” policy. Plus, honestly, no one had really caught my eye. Disappointing my parents was also a major deterrent. I was content with my friends… or so I thought.

Then Friendship Day loomed on the horizon. The day before the big event, my bandmates and I were scrambling to finalize our setlist. Why the last-minute rush? Well, we’d been swamped all month. You can’t blame us for being busy, right?

“Hey, how about we play ‘Every Summertime’? It’s got that high school nostalgia vibe,” Tara, our rhythm guitarist, suggested.

“Tara, they were eighteen and undergrads in the song, they already graduated high school” Xavier, our ever-practical keyboardist, pointed out.

“Let’s play it anyway” Simone, our drummer, declared, effectively ending the debate. We used to have a bass player, but his mom had recently banned him from performing. Talk about a buzzkill.

“Okay, ‘Every Summertime’ it is,” I conceded. “But we still need to choose five more songs and rehearse them. And remember, IT’S TOMORROW, PEOPLE!” I reminded them, feeling a wave of stress wash over me. I still had three quizzes to study for, and I’d barely cracked open the books for two of them.

We rehearsed all day, and by the end, I was exhausted. After practice, I crashed at Tara’s house. My strict parents somehow allowed sleepovers, mainly because Tara’s house was literally next door. Walking ten extra steps to my own house seemed like an insurmountable obstacle at that point. We watched some cheesy movies until we both drifted off.

The next day, the day of the performance, I was a nervous wreck. I hadn’t had much time to practice the guitar solo, and I was praying my hands wouldn’t turn into sweaty, trembling messes. As I plugged in my guitar, I peeked through the curtains at the audience. My eyes widened. Every single senior high student was there. Oh, great. Usually, we performed for only half the student body at a time. This was a whole new level of pressure.

When our band was announced, I took a deep breath and stepped into the spotlight. We launched into our first song, trying to project an air of cool confidence. As I sang, my eyes scanned the crowd, and I noticed him. A guy with vibrant purple hair was staring directly at me. I was used to people watching us perform, but this was different. His gaze felt… different. My fingers faltered on the fretboard, and my voice wavered. My bandmates exchanged confused glances. Tara started singing my part, while Simone whispered, “Hey, Mc, what’s wrong?”

I snapped back to attention, forcing myself to focus. Pull it together, Mckenzie! I mentally scolded myself. This was even more embarrassing than my first-ever performance. As I continued singing, I couldn’t help but notice the purple-haired guy smile. Stop it, I thought, my heart pounding in my chest. Throughout the entire performance, I was acutely aware of his eyes on me. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t resist sneaking glances. I was practically trembling, but I was determined to maintain a professional facade.

When our last song ended, I practically sprinted backstage, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The loud music from the speakers outside seemed to amplify my racing heart. He had looked so… ethereal under the stage lights. The colored lights played across his face, and the top two buttons of his polo shirt were undone, his tie loosened just enough to make him look… GAWD, Macy, get a grip! I berated myself.

While I was busy trying to calm down, my bandmates rushed in, their faces etched with concern. Xavier patted me on the back, while Simone fetched me some water. Tara bombarded me with questions and gave me my inhaler, but my mind was still replaying the image of the purple-haired guy. A small, involuntary smile crept onto my lips. Was this what a crush felt like? It was a completely new sensation. The only boys I’d ever “admired” before were cartoon characters like Robin from Teen Titans Go! or Terence from Tinkerbell.

Tara, noticing my dreamy expression, stepped back, her expression unamused. “Girl,” she said, her voice flat. “Are you high?”

🐚

The next morning, I hopped out of my dad’s car, waved goodbye, slung my bag over my shoulder, and started the familiar trek towards my classroom. However, as I approached the elevators, I froze. Leaning against the wall, looking impossibly cool, was him—the purple-haired guy from last night’s performance. And beside him, chatting amicably, was Zayne. Zayne. Campus heartthrob, former next-door neighbor, and the boy I’d played pretend-wedding with when we were kids. The memory made me cringe. I’d been so mortified by the childhood antics that I’d mostly avoided him as we got older, limiting our interactions to awkward “hi’s” and “hello’s.”

Seeing them together sent a wave of panic through me. I considered a quick detour to the stairwell. Five flights of stairs were preferable to facing that combination. But as I began to veer off course, Zayne spotted me.

“McKenzie,” he called out, his voice warm and familiar.

I froze mid-stride, my back to them, pretending I hadn’t heard. I waited for him to say something else, hoping against hope that he'd just let me escape.

“McKenzie, why don’t you take the elevator?” he continued. “The fifth floor is a very long walk.”

I reluctantly turned around, plastering a polite smile on my face. I avoided looking at the purple-haired guy, focusing instead on Zayne. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice a little higher than usual. “I always take the stairs. It’s good exercise.”

“You never take the stairs because of your asthma, though,” Zayne countered, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you want to be carried to the clinic the moment you reach your classroom?”

“My asthma is not that severe.” I sighed. But he kinda does have a point, I even saw other kids breathing heavily when reaching their designated floors even if they didn't have one. Defeated, I walked over to them, keeping a respectable distance. The elevator doors opened, revealing a surprisingly crowded car. We squeezed in, and I immediately found myself pressed against several other students. Zayne’s purple-haired friend ended up directly behind me. I tried to subtly shift to a less… intimate position, but just then, someone else squeezed into the elevator, causing me to stumble backward. Before I could crash into the purple-haired guy, he instinctively reached out and steadied me, his hand briefly resting on my back. “Careful there,” he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. I avoided eye contact, my cheeks burning.

“T-thanks,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

When the elevator finally reached the fifth floor, I practically bolted out, eager to escape the close quarters and the intense gaze of the purple-haired guy. But to my surprise, Zayne and his friend followed me. I stopped, turning to face them, confusion written all over my face. “Isn’t your classroom on the seventh floor?” I asked. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re not following you,” Zayne said, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re just going to visit an old friend.” He then turned and walked down a hallway in the opposite direction of my classroom.

I stood there, completely bewildered. Before they disappeared around the corner, the purple-haired guy turned back, winked at me, and gave me a mischievous smirk. My face erupted in a fresh wave of heat. I could practically feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

As they disappeared from sight, I let out a long, dramatic sigh. “How many times have I embarrassed myself already?” I muttered to myself, feeling a wave of mortification wash over me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Maybe I should just transfer schools. Or move to another country. Or perhaps fake my own death. Stop M, you’re overreacting. Stay cool.

🐚

After class, I gathered my things, grabbed my jacket and wallet, and headed out to meet my friends for our usual post-class snack run to the cafeteria. I found Tara waiting by the lockers, and we started walking towards Simone and Xavier’s classroom. As we passed the elevators, I noticed the doors closing. And through the narrow gap, I caught a glimpse of… him. Zayne’s purple-haired friend. Again. Why was I suddenly seeing him everywhere? I hadn’t even noticed him around campus in the past few months. It was starting to feel a little… targeted.

A wave of unexpected anxiety washed over me, tightening my chest. I instinctively reached into my bag for my inhaler and took a quick puff. Tara looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern. “Hey, what’s wrong? You haven’t needed that much lately,” she said, gently patting me on the back. The physical contact helped calm me down a bit.

I gave her a weak smile, then a playful frown tugged at my lips. “Tara,” I began hesitantly, “I think I might have a little… crush.”

Tara’s eyes widened, and she let out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down. “Omg! Who is the lucky girl?!” she exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me expectantly.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Huh? It’s not a girl,” I said, confusion evident in my voice. “I thought you liked girls, since you always reject all the guys who ask you out.” I chuckled lightly.

Tara’s excitement faltered for a second, then returned with even more intensity. “Ooooh! Spill the tea!” she demanded, practically dragging me along the hallway as I recounted the details of my brief encounters with the mysterious purple-haired guy.

We finally reached Simone and Xavier’s classroom, and after a quick greeting, we all headed to the cafeteria. As we sat down at our usual table, I felt a familiar prickling sensation at the back of my neck. I looked up, and there he was. Again. How did he keep appearing wherever I went? His purple hair was like a beacon in the crowded room. He was already looking at me, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Simone, ever observant, noticed my gaze and followed it to its target. Her expression immediately turned disapproving. “You might not want to get involved with that one, Mc,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “I thought you had standards.”

Xavier, sensing the change in atmosphere, scooted closer to me, placing a comforting hand on my arm. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I heard he doesn’t take his studies seriously. By the way, what score did you get on the history test?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

“Only two mistakes,” I replied, still distracted. “I forgot to read the instructions properly.” I rested my head on the table with a groan.

As I did, I saw Zayne and the purple-haired guy stand up and walk away. They were heading towards the exit. Just before they disappeared from view, the purple-haired guy turned back and gave me another wink, sending a fresh wave of heat rushing to my face.

“Oh, guys, let her be,” Tara said, defending me, “It’s not every day she crushes on someone.”

“Yeah, Xavier, let her be,” Simone teased, echoing Tara’s words.

“Hey,” Xavier protested, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You were against it too, just a minute ago.”

I lifted my head from the table, feeling a little less mortified and a little more amused. It seemed my friends were just as confused about this whole situation as I was. But one thing was certain: this purple-haired guy was definitely making my life a lot more… interesting.

🐚

School was finally over, and the sweet relief of freedom washed over me. Xavier invited me to our usual post-school hangout at the nearby café. But today, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. The whirlwind of emotions from the past few days, coupled with the pressure of the performance and the lingering image of him, had taken its toll. I politely declined, promising to catch up with them later.

I found a quiet corner near the school entrance, sinking gratefully into a vacant chair to wait for my ride. I pulled out my phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract myself from the lingering thoughts of purple hair and mischievous smirks.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced down and saw it was from my dad.

'Sorry sweetheart, Daddy won't be able to pick you up today. I'll send Luke and Kieran to pick you up. Love you lots sweetie, take care.'

A groan escaped my lips. Just my luck. Of all the days I actually wanted to go straight home and collapse into bed, my usual ride was unavailable. Luke and Kieran were my older brothers, and while I loved them, their definition of "picking me up" usually involved loud music which I love but the three of us have different tastes. Luke was a metalhead, while Kieran was an NWJNS enthusiast. The car rides were always a chaotic symphony of their earsplitting singing skills they got from Dad and a general air of chaotic energy. It was definitely not the relaxing end to the day I’d envisioned.

I sighed, shoving my phone back into my bag. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. I might as well prepare myself for the inevitable onslaught of brotherly teasing and questionable music choices. I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes for a moment, hoping the wait wouldn't be too long. Maybe if I was lucky, they'd be running late enough that I could catch a few precious minutes of peace. But knowing my brothers, that was highly unlikely. They were probably already circling the school like a pair of overenthusiastic vultures, ready to swoop in and whisk me away on their latest adventure. I just hoped I'd survive the experience.

I heard footsteps approaching and slowly opened my eyes. It wasn't my brothers. It was him. No longer a fleeting glimpse from afar, he was standing right in front of me. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I fumbled in my bag for my inhaler, my hands shaking slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Ms. Singer,” he said, a charming smile gracing his lips. He was holding a skateboard, casually tucked under his arm. “Is this seat beside you taken?”

“No,” I managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was betraying me with its frantic rhythm. “And don’t call me that.” I turned my attention back to my phone, feigning disinterest.

“Why not? Weren’t you the one who performed a few days ago? You’re also the lead guitarist, if I’m not wrong?” he persisted. I stubbornly refused to look at him, my palms starting to sweat. My whole body was buzzing with nervous energy.

He reached out and gently took my phone, turning it off and placing it back in my bag. “Miss, isn’t it rude to use your phone while talking to someone?” he teased, his eyes twinkling.

“I’m not talking to you,” I mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“You are now.” He then extended his hand towards me. “I’m Rafayel.”

“I’m…” I hesitated, finally looking up at him. I reluctantly reached out and placed my hand in his. But instead of a handshake, he gently took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “McKenzie, I know,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve had my eye on you for a very long time now.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I was momentarily speechless. This was… unexpected.

“I finally held your hand,”

he said, his smile widening, and I felt my insides melt. Gawd, that smile is going to be the death of me.

“I… You! You’re so… Ugh!” I sputtered, finally finding my voice. “You can’t just do that!” I pulled my hand away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and… something else. Something I couldn't quite name. “Plus,” I continued, “are you stalking me? You suddenly keep appearing after that night. I’ve never seen you around campus before.”

He straightened up, leaning back against the chair, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m not stalking you,” he said. “You just never noticed me.” He paused, then added, “The painting I sent you a few months ago… did you like it?”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my gosh, you sent that?” I gasped. “I loved it! It’s so beautiful. Did you make it?”

“No, I bought it,” he said, a perfectly deadpan expression on his face.

“Oh,” I said, my initial enthusiasm deflating slightly. “Well, thanks for the gift anyway.”

He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look replacing his earlier playfulness. “I… I painted it,” he confessed. “I’m glad you liked it. I’m still pretty new to art, though, so I’m not that good.”

“What are you talking about?” I exclaimed, my surprise turning into genuine admiration. “I… I’d love to see your other paintings. They’re amazing.” I quickly looked away, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck.

His own cheeks flushed a light pink. “Uh… I, uh… sure,” he stammered, his usual confidence momentarily faltering.

Just then, I heard a distant yell. It was my brothers. “Mc! Stop flirting and come here!” Luke's voice boomed across the parking lot.

My face turned red from embarrassment, “Sorry, I have to go now,” I said, quickly gathering my things. “It was nice talking to you… Rafayel.” I gave him a quick, awkward goodbye and practically sprinted towards the approaching car.

“Wait! You forgot your jacket!” he shouted after me, but I was already halfway across the parking lot. Oh well, he thought, a small smile playing on his lips. At least he finally had a reason to talk to you tomorrow.

I scrambled into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut behind me. The twins, Luke and Kieran, were already inside, their faces plastered with matching smirks that could only mean trouble.

“I’m telling Dad,” Kieran announced, his eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.

“No way, I’ll tell him first!” Luke countered, elbowing Kieran in the ribs.

“Guys, seriously,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “He’s just a new friend. You know I don’t have time for romance.” I pulled out my phone, pretending to be engrossed in something fascinating to avoid their scrutinizing gazes.

“Oh really?” Luke said, his smirk widening. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other, though. Hey, hey, hey, look at me if you’re telling the truth.” He reached across the back seat and gently cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet his eyes.

I tried to maintain a serious expression, but the sight of Luke’s exaggeratedly suspicious face was too much. A giggle escaped my lips, quickly escalating into a full-blown chuckle.

“See!” Luke yelled triumphantly, dropping his hand from my chin.

"Bro , how can I not laugh when your face looks like that." I chuckled

I burst out laughing again, wiping a tear from my eye. Luke playfully shoved Kieran, who retaliated with a gentle punch to his arm.

“Yeah, bro,” Kieran continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Even I would laugh, bro. Bro, start the engine. Dad is gonna be mad at us, bro.” He punctuated his sentence with another playful nudge to Luke.

I glared at Kieran, thoroughly annoyed by his incessant “bro” usage, and lightly smacked his arm. “Just start the car already,” I said, trying to suppress another giggle. The whole situation was ridiculous, but I couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement I felt at the thought of Rafayel. Even my brothers’ teasing couldn’t completely dampen my spirits.

🐚

The next day, I gave my dad the usual goodbye kiss and hopped out of the car. As I turned to walk towards the school entrance, I heard the familiar rolling sound of a skateboard. My heart immediately did a little skip, and I knew exactly who it was. I turned around to confirm my suspicions, and there he was: Rafayel. He looked effortlessly cool as he skated, the wind tousling his dark purple hair. It was like a scene from a movie, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my own decidedly un-cinematic appearance.

He smoothly stopped right in front of me, holding up his skateboard to prevent it from rolling away.

“You know you could crush my feet with that, right?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant as I started walking towards the school. He fell into step beside me, matching my pace.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t,” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. “As much as I’d love to carry you to the clinic,” he added with a wink, “I wouldn’t want you getting hurt because of me.” Gosh, he always finds a way to flirt, doesn’t he? I thought, desperately trying to keep my heart rate under control.

“You should stop that,” I said, attempting to hide the blush that was creeping up my neck. “I’m not interested in you.”

He just smirked. “Then why is your face red? Did you eat hot sauce for breakfast?”

I rolled my eyes. “Gosh, you’re so annoying,” I muttered, picking up my pace slightly. He easily kept up with me.

Then, he said something that made me stop dead in my tracks. “Will you give me a chance, though?” His voice was suddenly serious, the playful tone gone. “I know I’m not like those guys you see at your fancy parties, but I know I could make you happy. I’m serious about you, McKenzie.”

He stepped closer, gently taking my jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders. “You forgot this yesterday,” he said softly. “Wear it so you don’t get a cold.” He paused, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ll be waiting for your answer. Take your time. I’m not rushing you, but please… think about it. I really do like you.” With that, he hopped back onto his skateboard and smoothly skated away, leaving me standing there, completely stunned.

I watched him go, my hand instinctively going to the jacket he’d just placed around me. It still held a faint warmth from his touch. My cheeks were burning, and my heart was doing a crazy little dance in my chest.

I looked around, making sure no one was watching, then whispered to myself, a small smile playing on my lips, “Gosh, McKenzie, a little secret wouldn’t hurt, right?” The thought of keeping this unexpected development to myself, at least for a little while, was strangely exciting.

Rafayel and I started hanging out more often. It was… nice. He was funny, charming, and surprisingly thoughtful. My friends were incredibly supportive, which was a huge relief. Even my brothers, after their initial teasing, seemed to approve. They’d even covered for me once when Dad almost caught us sharing an ice cream cone last week. It was a close call, but a well-timed threat about revealing the mysterious scratches on Dad’s brand-new car kept them silent.

My late-night returns home, however, were starting to raise some eyebrows. Dad was becoming suspicious, but I managed to deflect his questions by claiming I was at Simone’s place for extra practice. A big school event was coming up, so it wasn’t entirely a lie. And thankfully, he seemed to buy it.

One evening, as I was giving Dad my usual “I’m going to Simone’s” spiel, Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Dad, don’t worry,” he said, giving me a wink. “We always pick her up, so she’s safe.”

Sylus, however, narrowed his eyes, a flicker of suspicion in his gaze. “Hmm,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Make sure the three of you are telling the truth. You know the deal sweetie, no boys until you finish studying.” His words hung in the air, making me incredibly nervous. It felt like I was walking a tightrope.

I forced a laugh, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yes, Dad,” I said. “Plus, if I did have a boyfriend, the twins would have already told you by now. You know how big their mouths are.” I shot a playful glare at Luke and Kieran, hoping they’d pick up on the subtle cue.

The twins, however, were not amused. They exchanged a look that clearly said, This is how you repay us after we saved your skin? After we risked Dad’s wrath and the potential grounding of the century? Their expressions were a mix of betrayal and wounded pride, like I’d just publicly announced their deepest, darkest secrets. Luke even mouthed, "We are hurt." while Kieran dramatically clutched his chest. I stifled a giggle. They were so dramatic. I knew they were just teasing, but I also knew I owed them big time. I'd have to make it up to them somehow. Maybe with extra-large milkshakes. Or by finally agreeing to listen to their music – for at least five minutes. Maybe.

🐚

I arrived at the skate park and immediately spotted Rafayel. The moment he saw me, his eyes widened, and a wide grin spread across his face. He rushed over and gave me a quick, light hug, which earned him twin daggers from Luke and Kieran, who were lurking nearby. “Not too close there, Eggplant,” Luke warned, his voice laced with mock menace. Rafayel pulled away, a slightly bewildered expression on his face at the new nickname.

“We’re going to that shop,” Kieran said, pointing to a store across the street. “Call us if you need anything.” With one last warning glare at Rafayel, they both walked off, leaving us alone.

Rafayel led me to a nearby bench and insisted I sit down. Then, to my surprise, he started helping me put on my protective gear. My heart did a little flutter at his attentiveness. “It’s okay, I can do it,” I said, reaching for the helmet.

“Nuh-uh,” he playfully countered, gently taking the helmet from my hands. “Gotta make sure this princess is safe.” He carefully placed it on my head, adjusting the straps. “Pink suits you,” he added with a wink, giving my cheek a light pinch. I couldn’t help but smile.

I stood up, placing one foot on the skateboard and giving it a tentative push. I immediately started wobbling precariously, and Rafayel quickly steadied me, preventing a potentially embarrassing fall.

The next few hours were… chaotic, to say the least. My screams and shouts echoed through the skate park as I attempted to master the art of skateboarding. My body was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. Rafayel was a patient and encouraging teacher, though, and despite the near-constant threat of face-planting, I actually had fun.

After our skating session, I told my brothers I was going to Rafayel’s house. This did not go over well.

“You can rest at our house,” Kieran protested, his arms crossed stubbornly. “No need to go to another man’s house.” He was clearly not thrilled with the idea.

“I’m sixteen, not six,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“Sixteen, not eighteen,” Luke countered, placing his hands on his hips and adopting a stern, grandmotherly stance. He looked remarkably like a grumpy Grandma Josephine. “And even if you were eighteen, it’s still a no.”

I sighed in defeat. Arguing with them was like talking to a brick wall. Then, a brilliant idea struck me. “Guys,” I said, lowering my voice conspiratorially, “do you remember that old gun Dad got from that auction? The–”

Their eyes widened. They knew exactly what I was talking about. It was a prized possession of Dad's, and they’d both been strictly forbidden from even touching it.

“Fine, go,” Kieran blurted out, quickly changing his tune. But then he whirled around, pointing a warning finger at Rafayel, who was standing a few feet away, looking rather bewildered by the sudden shift in the conversation. Kieran then proceeded to make exaggerated punching motions towards Rafayel, mouthing the words “no touching.” Rafayel just stared back, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Okay, bye! Love you guys!” I called out, quickly grabbing my bag and hurrying over to Rafayel, before my brothers could change their minds. I could practically feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I walked away. This whole thing was getting complicated, but a small part of me enjoyed the thrill of keeping it a secret.

🐚

Rafayel opened his apartment door, and I stepped inside, immediately taking off my shoes and placing them by the shoe rack. “Make yourself at home,” he said, doing the same with his shoes. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“I’m good with anything,” I replied with a smile.

“Great. Turn on the TV and watch whatever you like. I’ll be with you in a bit,” he said, disappearing into his bedroom to change. I took off my jacket and settled onto the comfortable-looking couch, flipping through the channels to find something interesting. Rafayel returned a few minutes later, now wearing comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt, and holding another one of his shirts in his hand. “Do you want to change?” he asked, holding it out to me. “Your clothes might be a bit uncomfortable. This is the smallest shirt I have.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at the thought of wearing his clothes. “Oh, is it okay?” I asked, feeling a little hesitant.

He quickly avoided my gaze, his own cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he mumbled. “You can change in the bathroom if you like. There’s a mirror in there.” He then turned and headed into the kitchen, the sound of clanging pots and pans soon following.

I went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I slipped off my own top and pulled on Rafayel’s. It was definitely oversized, swallowing me in its soft fabric. I inhaled deeply, catching a faint scent of his cologne. Another blush crept up my neck. I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror before heading back to the living room.

Rafayel was just finishing up in the kitchen when I returned. He turned as I sat back down on the sofa, handing me a steaming bowl of noodles. “Looks good on you,” he said, still avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks warm again.

We settled into a comfortable silence, eating our noodles and watching the movie. The next few hours were filled with laughter and easy conversation. I noticed Rafayel subtly scooting closer to me on the couch, or pretending to be startled by a jump scare in the movie, which inevitably resulted in him clinging to my arm. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. Before I knew it, we were practically nestled in each other’s arms, neither of us wanting to break the comfortable contact. Gosh, what is happening to me? I thought, my heart fluttering.

“McKenzie,” Rafayel said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” I chuckled, nudging him playfully.

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I… uh… what are we?” he asked, finally meeting my gaze.

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t been expecting him to ask that so soon. “What do you want us to be?” I responded, leaning a little closer to him.

He looked away, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “I don’t want to be just friends,” he mumbled. “I us want to be… lovers. If that’s okay with you.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. I leaned in and gave him a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. “Yes,” I whispered.

I turned back to the movie, trying to act casual, but I could feel his surprised gaze on me.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief.

I just shrugged, hiding half of my face in the pillows, a wide grin plastered on my face.

“Hey!” he protested, gently poking my arm. “You can’t just say yes and then say nothing after!”

“You heard me. I’m not repeating myself,” I mumbled, burying my face further into the pillows, trying to hide the goofy grin that was plastered across my face.

Rafayel, however, seemed to take my muffled “yes” as a full-blown declaration of love worthy of a public celebration. He let out a whoop of joy, jumping up and down on the spot, making the couch cushions bounce. I couldn’t help but laugh at his childish enthusiasm. It was infectious.

Then, before I could even process what was happening, he scooped me up into his arms, lifting me into the air and spinning me around. “Rafayel! Put me down!” I yelled, half-laughing, half-panicked, playfully punching him on the back. But he just ignored my protests, continuing to spin me around the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, his voice full of glee. “Not when my girlfriend just said yes.” He finally set me back down on the couch, but he didn’t let go, keeping his arms wrapped around me.

“You’re being childish, Raf,” I said, still slightly breathless from the unexpected spin.

“You make me go childish, Mc,” he retorted, his voice softening as he looked deeply into my eyes.

I looked up at him, the dim light from the TV hiding the blush that was creeping up my face. The air between us crackled with a sudden intensity. I slowly leaned in, and he met me halfway, our lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened into something more passionate. It felt… magical. Like every cheesy romance movie I’d ever watched had suddenly come to life.

This kiss was the polar opposite of the elaborate scenarios I’d conjured up in my childhood daydreams. Back then, my ideal first kiss involved a picturesque setting: a moonlit lake, perhaps, or a field of wildflowers, with my Prince Charming serenading me with a lute (don’t judge, I was a kid). We’d gaze into each other’s eyes, the air thick with unspoken longing, before finally sharing a tender, movie-worthy kiss.

But this? This was happening in Rafayel’s slightly messy, definitely not-moonlit apartment, amidst the lingering scent of instant noodles and the flickering light of the TV. Not exactly the stuff of fairy tales. And yet… it was perfect. The unexpectedness of it, the raw emotion, the undeniable connection I felt with Rafayel – it was all so much more real and exciting than any fantasy I’d ever imagined.

A small part of me did feel a twinge of disappointment. This wasn’t the grand, romantic gesture I’d always envisioned. There were no violins playing in the background, no gentle breeze rustling through willow trees. But then I looked at Rafayel, his eyes still shining with the afterglow of the kiss, and that small twinge of disappointment vanished. This was us. This was our moment. And it was perfect in its own imperfect way.

Besides, I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who had initiated the kiss. I was the one who had leaned in, breaking the comfortable tension between us. So, while my inner child might have been slightly disappointed by the lack of a lakeside setting and a lute-playing prince, my present self was definitely not complaining. This kiss, this moment, this him… it was all surprisingly, wonderfully real. And I wouldn't trade it for all the moonlit lakes in the world.

Rafayel seemed just as caught up in the moment. He responded to the kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling me closer and wrapping his arms tightly around me. I instinctively put my arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. The sounds from the movie faded into the background, the only sound that mattered being the soft sound of our breathing.

After a few blissful minutes, we reluctantly pulled away, both of us slightly breathless. We sat back on the couch, still nestled close together, our arms wrapped around each other.

“I was saving that for our first date, you know,” Rafayel said, a playful pout on his lips as he pulled me closer.

“Sorry,” I giggled, nudging him playfully. “You just looked so breathtaking earlier.” I paused, then a wave of curiosity washed over me. “You’re a good kisser… did you date or kiss any other girls before me?”

“Hey, hey, we just started dating, and you’re already at the jealous stage?” he teased, pulling away slightly to look at me.

“I’m just curious,” I protested, poking him in the chest. “So, did you or did you not?”

“No,” he said, his smile softening. “You’re the first one.” He pulled me back into a hug, nuzzling his face into my hair.

Just then, my phone dinged, breaking the cozy atmosphere. I glanced down and saw a message from Dad.

‘Sweetie, don’t you think you’re both going too fast?’

My heart dropped into my stomach. I frantically scanned the room, my eyes searching for any hidden cameras. Then, I saw it. Perched on a tree branch just outside the window, illuminated by the streetlight, was Mephisto, Dad’s ridiculously high-tech mechanical crow. Its tiny red eyes glowed menacingly.

Fuck. I was so dead.

Check out my other Rafayel Ongoing series Here!

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nutsack90 · 5 months ago

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tgck tarot cards :3

i might make more mha tarot cards idk... i kinda sacrificed quality for the sake of them matching

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #himiko toga #toga himiko #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochacho #uravity #togachako #togachaco #why is there two tags which is the right one help #pike art #i tried to pick cards i felt matched them and also matched themes #and lucky me these two are in order :3 #these two make me so so ill

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murderandcoffee · 1 year ago

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*buddy aurinko voice* found family? no, darling, this is a made family. I superglued these chucklefucks together kicking and screaming.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #junoverse #buddy aurinko #the aurinko crime family #juno steel #peter nureyev #vespa ilkay #jet sikuliaq #jet siquliak #tpp rita #rita tpp #bs.txt #why is jet's last name spelled two different ways. which one's the right one. help #the ruby 7 #yes I'm tagging all of them fuck off #carte blanche

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enhanced-operatives-division · 10 months ago

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Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

#ty right-agent for explicitly telling me that this would be welcomed you a real one #i had a massive babble to my friend abt what if they all feed me to the hounds for speaking #and he said “girl that fandom is like 12 people big they need you to speak” and yeah that also helped #i have a hard time talking if I'm not asked/prompted to that's why i adding tags is great for me. that and i like the format #anyways.#THESE TWO.............dear lord can you tell I have been unwell abt them forever..#this is propeganda (/j) for them. btw. please you have to understand the potential here. it's so good.#it's slowburn <- my (probably) demiromantic ass cannot handle romance without a build up and this set up is perfect (it will never happen)#also i find it easier to write ANYTHING between these two from Juniper's perspective because i find it easier to get into his head #idk reggie is like the gay version of the: what is he thinking of? i could take a bear in a fight. audio ive heard.#whereas with juniper i have him trapped under a microscope #im going to tag this now so i can use the remaining tags to RANT #ieytd #john juniper #reginald crane #junicrane #starstruck #i expect you to die #<- being BRAVE!!!#when I get really excited i start getting like this internal shaking feeling and uh. yeah this rant started that #the worst part abt that is it also triggers my tourettes so like. double whammy. excited about blorbos? jail :(#but. yeah I uh. yeah. sorry this IS so long..I did warn but . AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHAUUUUUUAHHHHHHHHHHHHH #also i did this rant in 2 parts. last night and this morning so yeah uh. yeah.#god im so messed up about these two #make me a boat by the family crest came on while wroting this and while it's mainly a roxanix song to me......AUUUUUG.....#i struggle to find music for these sillies because they have such a specific vibe to me amd I've not quite managed to find something which -#- genuinely feels correct for them and it drives me up the WALL #GOD NIGHT SHIFT JUST CAME OF SHUFFL.....all my ieytd songs are coming out to drive me up the wall.......#FINISHED I've been adding tags as I've gone alonga #thank you for reading hope you enoyed and if you didn't im sorry

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