#working space dubai

[deirabusinesscenter]

Find Your Perfect Workspace: Furnished Co-working & Serviced Offices in Deira, Dubai

Looking for a flexible and professional office solution in Dubai's Deira district? Look no further than furnished co-working spaces and serviced offices! This dynamic option caters to startups, entrepreneurs, and established businesses alike, offering a cost-effective and hassle-free way to set up your workspace.

[interiorergonomics]

Improve Workplace Safety with Office Furniture Designs

Enhancing workplace safety through thoughtful office furniture design is an essential aspect of creating a secure and productive work environment. Considering Ergonomic Office Furniture One of the primary considerations in this regard is the ergonomics of office furniture. Ergonomically designed chairs, desks, and workstations reduces the risk of musculoskeletal disorders, which are common…

[quincybf]

despite the horrors of last semester one design concept that i did connect with and focus on in my work was the idea of interior landscapes and especially the idea of using volume in structure like walls and floors to carve out occupiable space and its very exciting to see elements of that in art i like

[garhoudbusinesscenter]

Dubai's Coworking Revolution: Find Your Ideal Workspace Here

Escape the traditional office and embrace the future of work at Dubai's coworking spaces. Discover a vibrant hub brimming with innovation and opportunity. Whether you're a seasoned freelancer, a remote worker seeking a change of scenery, or a budding entrepreneur, find the perfect workspace to fuel your success. Choose from flexible options like hot desks or dedicated office spaces for your growing team. Dubai's coworking spaces offer a dynamic environment where you can connect with a network of inspiring individuals and take your business to the next level. Plus, enjoy the benefits of prestigious locations in the heart of Dubai's business districts.

[800phonepod]

How Acoustic Booths Nurture Creativity for Home-based Professionals ?

Struggling to stay creative while working from home? Discover how acoustic booths nurture your creativity in a distracting environment.

[qqweebird]

the levels of cope in the comments of this tweet are off the charts

[vyasmeghna]

Professional Working Space in Gurugram

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[decluttrmellc]

Home Organizational Services | Decluttr Me LLC

[verimuru]

Red on Maroon A 16-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand and journalist Daniel Molloy visiting the Mark Rothko retrospective in 2024 Paris. Content mentions & warnings: The comic depicts Daniel’s internalized ableism. Rothko’s suicide is acknowledged but not discussed in detail. There’s angst, talk about kink and lots of fluff. Louis is mentioned as well as Daniel’s daughters. Marius is not named but is hinted at. The comic is set up in post-Dubai-interview time and based on my knowledge about s1 of AMC’s IWTV with sprinkles of book canon. Some notes about the comic below:

As with my last comic, I am not a native English speaker, so I hope you keep that in mind when reading <3 trying my best here meow meow

The Rothko retrospective can be visited until 2nd of April of 2024 in Louis Vuitton Foundation. I visited the place in January, so the comic’s surroundings are a mix of memories and some image searches, but in no way fully accurate. Since visiting Paris next week is probably not an option for most people, the foundation has a very cool free app, where you can listen to an audio guide about Rothko and paintings in the exhibition. I mostly used their app as a source for this comic, so in case you want to learn more, go here: https://www.fondationlouisvuitton.fr/en/events/mark-rothko

 I listened to a lot of Morton Feldman’s Rothko Chapel -album while making this. So put it in playing in the background if you’re into that sort of thing. Link to the playlist on youtube

Since I am Finnish and I found out that one of LVF’s first exhibition had some Finnish painter’s work, ofc I had to include them… Page 14 has Schjerfbeck’s “Dancing Shoes”  and Gallen-Kallela’s “Kullervo Cursing”.

Ok finally some headcanon stuff: in my head, while writing this comic, I imagined Daniel having accepted the dark gift from Armand, but both of them wanting him to live as a human as long as possible to enjoy the benefits of a… mortal body. :’D Since, you know, vampirism is forever anyway, so why not enjoy the variety of bodily fluids, body heat, aches and weirdness of aging? While having a chronic illness is shitty, his life is not, and while his disability marginalizes him, there’s a perspective there, a person living and enjoying things, allowed to take space and feel his thoughts develop from these changes (that also affect over 6 million people around the world with Parkinson’s).

After finishing the comic I am not so sure if Daniel is going to be turned into a vampire after all. So your guesses are as good as mine, would love to hear your suggestions, hehe!

I wish we knew more about Daniel’s daughters! I just came up with something here because I wanted to draw them and wanted to see their dynamics as a family.

I have now read the Devil’s Minion part from Queen of the Damned as a separate short story and appreciate the TV show’s changes to Daniel even more. I can’t wait for S2…..

My sincerest thanks to @anaid-queen for being a test audience, my informant and such a cheerleader the past week <3<3<3

Hope you enjoy xoxo

SORRY I POSTED THE WRONG IMAGE FILES FIRST WAHHH I had to repost ;_;

[coworkingspacedubai]

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[f0point5]

MAD MAX FIGHT SCENE WHEN?? I have never needed a written piece more than right now

I also reserve the right to imagine Emilia throwing a shoe at someone in this scenario. Idk why i just feel like it could happen. She is not happy about it

MAD MAX FIGHT SCENE NOW!!!

Tell me why this went four different ways before I came to this version. The alternate version took place in a club and had Emilia spraying champagne at a bunch of people but fundamentally it didn’t work as a written piece because you can’t hear what anyone’s saying in a club for shit 😂 No shoe throwing but I hope you like it anyway 😂

Me writing action scenes is like something out of that book After it’s so bad I’m sorry but I hope you got where I’m going 😂

✨set after the Monaco Grand Prix 2018✨

I don’t regret it one bit, ‘cause he had it coming

Another Monaco GP, another yacht party. You’re not even sure whose yacht it is but you don’t care. During GP weekend, drivers can pretty much walk onto whatever boat they want. You, Max, Clara, and Laurent had wandered onto the biggest boat with people having a party and set about forgetting Max’s nightmare weekend. The party is chaotic, you’re not sure how long whoever is in charge of the marina will let the noise and overcrowding go on, but you’re enjoying the high, four shots down with Max on the upper deck, lazily moving to the music emanating from the DJ playing his set downstairs.

“Where’s Laurent?” Max asks, practically shouting in your ear. He’s tipsy, which he deserves to be, his arm slung over your shoulder as he looks around, jerking your body as he turns. He’s out way too late, you can tell by how his t-shirt is clinging to him, and the fluffy top of his hair has completely broken free of the gel hold. He looks positively feral. You don’t hate it.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you don’t have to shout. “Probably fucking Clara in a bathroom somewhere,”

Max chuckles at that, taking a sip of his Red Bull. He offers it to you but you shake your head.

“I thought you were supposed to be supporting me,” he jokes as you avoid the can.

“Not by rotting my insides,” you tell him, squirming in his hold as he bops to the Dua Lipa remix he’ll pretend he’s never heard before. He manoeuvres you in front of him as if you don’t even have feet, wrapping his arm around your stomach so that you’re still trapped, but comfortable.

“Je bent niet leuk, schatje,” he says into your ear. The air on your neck makes you shiver against him, and he must think you’re cold because he holds you tighter.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you tell him, which makes him smirk. “And I’m not your baby,”

“Ja, maar-“

“Max!”

You twist in Max’s hold when a guy you don’t recognise appears from somewhere in the crowd. Max lets go of you to greet him, and without being entirely engulfed by 80kgs of Red Bull and audacity, you realise you’re parched. You tell Max you’ll be right back and scoot out of reach before he can say anything. You creep through the crowd and then downstairs to where the drinks are without twisting your ankle, which, given how drunk you felt back upstairs, sort of surprises you.

There’s several ice buckets lining the edge of the deck and you peruse the options. You’ve certainly had enough to drink but one more vodka couldn’t hurt. You glance over at the cans of Red Bull and make a note to take one with you as you pick a glass off the table.

“Do you come with the bottles?”

Well, that’s a choice of opening line, talking to a girl like she’s a phone charm.

You turn to see what, not whom, actually felt comfortable saying that out loud and there he was. The epitome of a guy who would say that. He’s older than you, maybe mid to late 20s, all tan and tight jeans, dark hair cut in a fade, gold watch that could be seen from space and those Louboutin loafers. His cologne smells like Dubai.

You look him up and down very slowly and deliberately. “Not if you’re buying them,” you say, turning back to the ice bucket.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” his voice is closer now, almost in your ear. You turn only slightly and find his face already next to yours. ”Come have a drink over here,” he nods over to a seating area where a few guys sit with girls that look too young to be there.

You know the type - down on a girls trip for the weekend with only party outfits in their bags, they’d likely hung around the marina until the pack of jackals had brought them here to ply them with alcohol they didn’t have to pay for. You’re half offended that this guy thought you’d be anywhere near that easy.

“I’ve got enough, thanks.” You say, firmer this time, as you give up on the vodka and just grab one of the many bottles of champagne in the ice bucket. When you turn to leave, you practically collide with the hunk of meat now towering over you.

“Who do I have to speak to to get you to come have a drink with me?” He asks, as if that’s meant to be sexy.

You roll your eyes. “Your hairdresser.”

“Come on, just one drink. I’ll make it worth your while,” he says, his eyes glancing down. You follow his gaze, already steeling yourself for some vulgar gesture, but he pulls out the edge of his wallet from his jeans.

You roll your eyes again. “I’m not pay for play. Now leave me alone.”

You step around him this time, starting to make your way back towards the stairs when this experiment in protein shake consumption blocks your way. You almost trip trying not to crash into him, not that he would have minded if the way he leans into you Is any indication.

“Look, I’m not some nobody, baby, I’ve got real fucking money. I’m what all you pretty girls come out here in your skimpy dresses for,” he says, the noxious smell of chemicals and tequila almost making your eyes water. What makes you feel sick is the way he uses his height advantage to look down your dress. “So have a drink with me. It’ll be fun, I promise,”

Only now does he employ an actual smile, the kind that you’d never want to be in a room alone with. Suddenly, you don’t feel like making any more jokes, you just want to get as far away from this guy as possible. Turning on your heels, you figure you’ll double back around the deck, but a hand tight on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t walk away from me,” the words are growled, and you feel your pulse spike. Now you’re scared, but showing it will get you nowhere.

“Get off me,” you snap, trying to shake the giant cretin off you without causing a scene. He doesn’t let go and you’re just about to bottle him over the head when you hear Max’s voice.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Max strides towards you, looking as angry as you’ve ever seen him. He must have been watching from up by the railings of the top deck.

“Oh, here we go,” the guy grumbles, rolling his eyes as he looks at Max. You take the opportunity to wrench your arm free of him. “Don’t worry, bro. You can have her back when I’m finished with her,”

“You arrogant piece of shit,” you snarl at the guy, almost taking a step towards him before thinking better of it.

“Watch your mouth,” he snaps back, pointing a finger at you. “Your ass isn’t that nice,”

“The fuck did you just say?” Max yells over the music. He guides you behind him effortlessly and you don’t argue, though you do keep hold of his arm.

“You heard me, you prick,” the douchebag says, flashing Max a cocky grin. That won’t go down well.

You pull on Max’s arm. You can tell from the set of his shoulders that this is getting out of hand.

“Max, leave it,” you tell him, pulling him again, and this time he listens, sighing and shaking his head. He knows he has to let it go.

“Jesus,” the arrogant pig sneers, and you cringe. “Has this bitch got a magic pussy or something?”

You don’t even have a chance against Max’s reaction speed. He’s moving before your eyes can even follow, shoving the guy backwards so quickly that the drunkard stumbles slightly, but not as much as you thought he would.

“Shut the fuck up,” Max growls at him.

Dickhead doesn’t take this well, shoving Max back. You’re too scared to get in the middle now. People are starting to stare, a couple of them even have their phones out.

“Max,” it’s more of a plea than anything. “Stop it,”

You know Max isn’t going to just drop it. He doesn’t know how to walk away from a fight, it’s just that normally his fighting involves being protected by a ton of carbon fibre, not that he thinks he needs it.

“You don’t want to mess with me, man,” the guy shouts, looking over Max’s shoulder to glare at you. “Certainly not over some dirty yacht slut,”

Once again, you’re no match for Max’s reaction speed. You don’t see his arm move. You’re barely able to process his fist connecting with the guy’s face. You just see Dickhead fly backwards clutching his jaw as he tumbles to the ground.

“Max!” You scream, but this time he totally ignores you.

“Fucking pussy,” he yells, at the same volume but now that the music has been turned down so that everyone can pay attention to the spectacle, it feels like the whole marina can hear him.

He steps towards the disoriented drunkard on the floor and this time you manage to catch up with him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him backwards.

“Max, come on,”

He’s fighting it a little, and you press your nails into his skin as you fight harder, dragging him away from where Douchebag’s friends have swarmed around him trying to help. You know they’re looking in your direction but you ignore them and you’re hoping Max does, too.

He turns to look at you and it’s like barely recognises you, his face is flushed and his pupils are dilated and you don’t entirely recognise him either. It knocks the wind out of you, and for just a second you swear everything stops, even your heartbeat.

“You’re okay?” Max asks you, through frenzied breathing.

Your mouth is dry but you speak anyway. “I’m fine.” You don’t know if you’re lying. “Let’s just go,”

You don’t give him time to argue, and it seems he’s calmed down enough to realise now is a good time to cut your losses, because he follows you without complaint.

You don’t let go of him until you’re on the concrete pathway up towards the stairs that have street access. More accurately, that’s when you become aware that you’re still holding onto him. When two toasted revellers try to walk between you but can’t, and shout something at you in Spanish for walking too slow. You let go of Max but he still doesn’t say anything. You keep stealing glances at him as you walk. His shoulders are still tight, his jaw is clenched. His hands are clenched into fists at his side. He still looks livid. That’s why you’re nervous, that’s why you can’t catch your breath, that’s why it’s hard to look away from him. You’re worried about him.

“Well, that was stupid,” you say with a sigh, once you’re sure your words won’t come out as some kind of breathy invocation of a worse kind of chaos than anything you’ve already been involved in tonight.

“That guy was stupid,” Max shoots back, grinding his teeth.

“You could have got hurt, Max,” you tell him, shoving him in the arm. He rolls his eyes. Of course. When taking your own life in your hands is what you get paid for there’s not much you can afford to be scared of. “What would have happened if you’d broke your hand? Your dad would actually kill me,”

“My dad would have done the same thing I did,” Max counters, and you can tell by the several expressions that cross his face in quick succession that he doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.

“Your dad is an idiot,” you remind him. He doesn’t argue. “And so are you,”

He scoffs. “So I was just supposed to let him talk to you like that? Touch you like that?” It’s not really a question, more a general statement of unadulterated disgust and you can’t really blame him. “Fuck that. I’m not going to just-“

He cuts himself off, his jaw ticking again. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, but you know men behaving like sentient sewage is a sore subject for both of you. Maybe, you think, you shouldn’t make him feel bad for standing up for you. You’d never needed anyone to stand up for you, and you still didn’t, but the fact that Max always did means more to you than you know how to articulate.

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek, catching more of the corner of his mouth than you intended, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stops walking and looks at you, the left side of his lips twitching.

“You kiss idiots?” Max asks, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip.

“Exclusively,” you shrug, “judging by my dating history,”

That makes him laugh, a proper one, with that bark he does when he’s surprised how funny he finds something. All traces of the menace from the boat filter out of his body, and something in the back of your head tells you it was just in time.

“Hey,” a loud, obnoxious, and lovable voice rings out behind you. You turn around and see Laurent walking towards you with a well satisfied Clara on his back, holding a large bottle of pilfered champagne. “Where the fuck have you two been?”

[interiorergonomics]

The Best Ergonomic Workstations for Office Wellness

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[m0chisenpai]

Hey 👋 Can you do a Louis fic where after he and Armand break up, he doesn’t get back with Lestat and moves on or tries for a better healthier relationship with her/reader?

seal the cracks

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader

in which Louis begins to fill the neglected cracks of his relationships

As Louis stares into the crack of the wall, he find your eyes in the debri. he sees the same brokeness as the eyes that stared at him. Broken and beautiful.

Not even Armand's words could convince you to say after the carnage that Louis caused.

He needed to find you. He needed to apologize.

His eyes fall shut and his mind opens to the voices.

"This is the vampire Louis De Pointe Du Lac, searching for the vampire Y/N L/N."

Conversation contiues to overlap, until one voice alls to him. It is hoarse, "she is a ghost. By night she comes out, slaughtering dozens. Then she seals herself away till the hunger can not be bared ny longer."

"No!" a feminine voice hisses, "she fled to Russia! There is a coven there that speaks of her briefly."

More rumors fill him with dead end leads til he hisses, "enough." silencing the voics he sits on the couch. Elbows on his knees, hands in his face.

You could be anywhere. you could be dead. That thought makes ice fill his veins. But one of his workers tell him his ride is here. Ready to take him to the meeting place.

When Louis steps out of the car, he is met with the owner, happily telling him of all his establishment has to offer. But it’s like a fly in his ear as he enters the elevator. Twenty floors felt like a lifetime until he reaches the rooftop which would be filled any other night. But thanks to his financial pull, it is completely empty. Save for the one body sitting at a seatette overlooking the city.

Your body is still, and Louis takes his time to approach slowly, he sees the gleam off your bare shoulders. Admires how the olive little cocktail dress accentuates your body. What should he say? He can feel the rage, the grief. All of the dark murkyfeelings roll over him. As much as you hate him, he is your maker. And he feels you deeply and completely.

He dares to take the seat beside you, giving you the space you deserve. Your head moves just enough to look him in the eye. Your eyes are gray, nearly so light you looked like your eyes were blank white. But the faint streaks of blue make them pop.

“Hello.”

Louis echoes back, “hello.”

“I trust the flight here went well?”

“It did,” you experienced first class in all its beauty and comforts. Not the first time, but from the moment you left your home to landing in Dubai every little thing was covered for you. At first in your pettiness you intended to waste every bit of his money.

Buying obscene five star meals that you tossed. Glasses of champagne, an entire new wardrobe. You waited for him to chew you out as he did all those years ago. But not once did he respond.

“I want to talk about San Francisco.”

“Ah yes,” you pick up a golden case, pulling a cigarette out to settle between your lips. “Do you mind?” He shakes his head. Focusing on the cigarette and it flickers a little. You take a slow drag, tilting your head to blow it into the night air.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

You look to him, “always have. You just never noticed.”

Louis can recall the first time he and Armand met you. You were a bartender in the city trying to make ends meet to make it to New York. You wanted to perform on the big stage. But until then you were stuck mopping puke, taking tips stuffed in your bra and ignoring the perverted glances of customers.

When the two men sat down, they ordered two shots on the rocks which they barely touched throughout the night. Sticking to their cigarettes instead.

“You work here long?” Louis asked as you wiped along the table top.

“Started three months ago.”

“Long term?”

“Hardly, Next year you’re gonna see my name up in big lights in the city,” your smile was giddy. It stirred something in him. Armand hatred how easily you could pull such a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed sir, though I need to start workin' on my accent" Louis feigns surprise. But truth is he could hear the southern twang in your voice the moment he entered.

"What brings a southern girl like you up here?"

"Well, I would have to tell you another night." A drunk waves you down stealing you away from Louis.

A crisp twenty brightens your night beneath his cup. And he and Armand kill the man who took your attention.

Every evening he comes to sit in that same spot, some times with the brooding partner of his, others without him. Some nights he's philosophical, others he's cynical. There are nights where he never utters a word. Just his eyes following your every movement.

You would become his second and final fledgling that following year. Your final night of humanity was spent in New York Armand accepted it, but even though he was hundreds of years older, wiser. The boyish desires to have ones things all to themself remained.

That night Louis took you to a Broadway production, putting you in the best box seats. Though he promised you for the rest of your days you could sit here, you declared tonight to be the very best.

Following afterwards you ate your final meal. Soul food from an old mom and pop shop and half glass of champagne which led you to where you sat now. He held you in his arms one final time.

"Will this truly be the last time you hear my mind?" your voice is hoarse from the silence as you soaked in your final sunrise.

"It is," he sees every memory one last time. He relishes in those big brown eyes, that gap in your teeth, the freckles from being out in the sun all day. He remembers that day so well, and you replay in your mind, wondering if days like that will ever return.

When the sun has completely gone and all that is left is the inky blackness of the night, something in Louis eyes tells you, "it' time."

You wonder what his final thoughts are. aHe wishes he were stronger, because he would project them to you. so instead he bgins to tell you. "I'm thinkin' about you. How I'm gonna miss the way your hert skips a beat at your favorite song, how you ear them bright sweaters int hat grungy bar...."

He empties his entire mind, his entire heart to you. Not even Armand had this kind of access to Louis. At midnight, you give him one last kiss as a human, and make love with him for the final time as well. And by the next nightfall you wake up something new, something beautifully cursed to stalk the night by his side.

Nightmares and terrors filly our nights. All from Armand. Only he would have lived enough to see such grotesque horrors. You see boys packed together on a boat weeping covered in their filth and sitting in their own sick.

Another night you are doused in rats and sealed shut in a coffin unable to scream as the giant rodents work to eat you apart in this giant tin box.

But the worst ones are the ones of those who are set on fire. Lying across a pyre and burnt slowly to a chard crisp. At first Louis brushes your worries aside, holding you in his arms in his coffin. But then Louis starts entering your dreams, beaten and bruised fried from the sun in some theatre while an audences thundering laughs rattle you as they cackle at the bloody tears puring from your eyes.

That's when the fight happens.

as soona s you are awake you pounce on Armand and Louis has to pull you off from him, cursing and hissing.

"I know its you!! You monster!! Just cause he won't screw you anymore!!" You thrash at Armand who was tossing into a hole into the wall of the apartment you three reside in.

"What were you thinking?" Louis hisses at you holding you at arms length like some child.

"You're being reckless! Now we gota get the hell out fore' the neighbors start calling the cops!" He hisses rubbing his hand across his face.

"That's what your worried about? What about your boy keeping me up fpr nearly a fucking YEAR!" ypur screams rattle the walls and Louis is quick to clamp his hand over your mouth.

"You just haven't gptten used to the change yet," your eyes go wide. He was dfending him. The one who has been torturing you.

You nod stepping out his grasp.

"It's either me or him."

"Love..."

"Don't call me that," you stp up chest pressed aginst his and whisper once more, "it's either gon' be me, or him."

Silence fills the apartment. But te look in his eyess break your heart. You nod stoeming into your shared room. He and Armand handle the police that arrive, but when he goes back to your room it's emmpty and torn into pieces.

The memory ends there as you finish your cigarette which you stub out in front of you. You look into his eyes, see the pain, watch as a bloody tear slips down the curve of his nose.

"I should've picked you..." his voice is hoarse.

"I know."

"He...he just..."

"Was a rebound. For Lestat right? Out of spite. I figured, Daniel sent me an adanced reader," you read it ten times. It was lying on the night stand of your hotel room now. "Was I a rebound too?"

"No" Louis immediately shakes his hand. "I'm done makin' exscuses for myself. But I know for a fact I fell in love with you and all your singing and dancing till the sun rose and"

"You would tell me 'cher get in here before the sun burns you'" you finished wistfully.

"I came to every performance of yours. When you were in the background and then you got your first main role in rent and you glowed on stage." You remember that opening night, seeing him sitting in the front. His eyes never leaving you once, but not once did you return his gaze.

You hate how much you love him right now. How much you miss him, but he will always be your Louis. Your maker, your lover, your companion.

"If I return," hope for a moment glimmers in his eyes, "and he is there. I will set him and you on fire. And spread your ashes to the four corners of the earth."

"Anything for you my love" he goes to reach your hands which you quickly pull back pointing one finger up.

"And no more of that dull black and gray macarbe stuff. I need color in my life Louis. Stop living like the dead, for me. Please" You scoot closer, gazing up into his eyes.

His gaze warms your cold heaet, as he stares down at you like you've hung the very moon and stars.

"Of course, cher. For you."

[two-white-butterflies]

violets for roses | c16

Description: Charles breaks up with you in search for higher ground. Where he realizes that he needs you beside him in order to truly win.

Pairing: charles leclerc/neurosurgeon!reader

Rating: Teen [jealousy, angst]

When he told you that he needed space - you gave it to him willingly, without any doubts or questions - because you knew deep inside that he'd come crawling back - that you couldn't live without each other. But when he wanted to make that space permanent? It caught you off guard.

"What do you mean?" you could feel your throat threaten to leak green bile. He seemed calm and composed from the other side of the call - a complete opposite of you. "I don't think that we're going to work in the long term, bebe." he dare used a nickname.

A small shudder escaped your lips.

"I don't understand," you shook your head - playing with the bracelet that he gifted you. "I want to focus on the championship." he began to explain his side of the story, but you couldn't help interrupt him. "Are you calling me a distraction?" you bite your lower lip.

You felt stupid.

Stupid because you weren't aware of his feelings. Unaware of the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. "I'm calling myself easily distracted," he defended you - knowing that half of his heart still belonged to the woman inside of you. "I-I think you're too good for me. You deserve someone who can stand beside you - hold your hand through accomplishments. That's not me." he prefaced.

While you were saving lives - he was toying with his own.

"Look at the future, bebe. Can you see a person who's barely there? I know you - I know that you want to be perfect. You dream about those white fences, a four bedroom house, kids that go to school - I can't give you that." he persuaded you, knowing deep inside his heart that he could give you that.

He could give you the family that you wanted - but he wanted to fix his life first. He wanted to make a name for himself.

"Well, there's no use in trying to force you to do something." you hum, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

"Goodbye, Leclerc." you hang up.

Charles_Leclerc: A single picture, yet it gives me a million emotions. I enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed drinking martinis by the beach and rolling down the sand dunes in Dubai. I enjoyed dancing in Ibiza, and singing down the streets of Los Angeles. I had fun, and I loved you - but good things must come to an end. Thank you, doctora. ❤️

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dr_yn_official: I'll be getting over you, my whole life. Merci du fond du coeur. @Charles_Leclerc

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CHARLES LECLERC AND GIRLFRIEND'S BREAKUP TO MATTY HEALY AND TAYLOR SWIFT SPLIT. (by deuxmoi)

Deuxmoi: Now I got this from one of his girlfriend's close friend, that Charles wanted to focus on the championship while she wanted to focus more on their relationship. A few months before their public breakup, they had a little break (now they didn't specify how long the 'break' lasted but they broke up officially before they got back together).

Unknown: That's shitty, because isn't Charles 25? He's old enough to know that a person should focus on what their girlfriend needs.

Deuxmoi: Yeah! And apparently, he was very 'fuck off' manner and he was all about himself. He was always talking about what he wanted and what he needed.

Unknown: Oh my god!

Deuxmoi: Now I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm not taking any sides, but my source told me that Y/N was bending over backwards to provide what he needed and wanted. At the end (he spoke up about their faults by phone call by the way) - at the end she just went 'alright i don't wanna make our relationship a favor to you' and broke up with him.

Unknown: She broke up with him?

Deuxmoi: Yes, she did.

"Are you alright?" your co-worker places a hand on your shoulder, seeing that you weren't able to finish the surgery. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stepped into the OR knowing that I'm like this." you sigh, leaning into the cold metal chair. You've seen the tweets about you. You've seen the hashtags on twitter. It wasn't helping.

"It's okay, you're the best surgeon in the hospital - and Dr. Alawi has finished the operation. No harm done - but I will be telling HR." the nurse warns you, and you answer with a nod. Fair is fair. "It's just hard getting over a breakup," you admit - wiping the sweat off your forehead. " -especially when it's with someone I see a future with."

She sits down beside you, offering a bottle of water.

"I don't want to ask anything personal, but if you need someone. I'll be here to help you - I'm sure that you'll see someone better." she comforted. "Lots of fish in the sea." she joked, earning a small laugh.

She glances at you - seeing the sad look on your face.

"Guess what," she smiled and you turned to look at her. "What?" you inquired - watching her open her phone. "You should go on a date, something that'll take your mind off him." she offered, showing you a picture of her cousin. "He's also a neurosurgeon. Dr. Pritchett, you'll love him." she smiled, browsing through his instagram posts.

A sigh escapes your mouth. Anything to get rid of Charles.

"Give me the date, I'll be there." you tell her, and she begins typing on her phone - presumably messaging the man.

The friendship between you and Dr. Pritchett grew with every event that he invited you to join. Soon enough, you find yourself tolerating his company - often leaning into his touch willingly.

"This institution was founded by my grandfather, Mr. Patel. It's helped so much patients that suffer from brain related diseases. I can't imagine a Monaco without it." your date boasted, touring the entire crowd around the tapestries hung around the hospital.

"The number of sponsors and volunteers grow with every month, now thanks to Formula One collaborating with us - we help a lot more people." he chuckled, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back - you almost forgot that your ex-boyfriend was in the crowd.

"It's beautiful here, I didn't expect it to be a hospital." Toto complimented, taking a slow sip of his champagne. He was one of the hospital's biggest donator. Truly, a nice guy. "We wanted it to feel like home." you add - showing them around the new building.

Your eyes trail towards the man beside him - Charles Leclerc.

"It feels like that," he hummed - a small frown on his face. You were getting on his nerves now - and so was the man beside you. "Most of our patients are children, the adults are in the other wing." Dr. Pritchett added, glancing at you. "We tried to make it as colorful as possible, but it's a hospital - decorum is needed." you hum, fingers dancing along the rim of your glass.

Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

officialyour_name: the annual st. luke's gala. thank you so much to @formulaone and @scuderiaferrari for sponsoring tonight's event. also to the f1 grid who are in full attendance!

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Charles had a lot of guts marching towards you.

"Hey," he breathed seeing that sad pout on your face. "Hey," you smiled at him - surprised to see him walking towards you with such bravery. Didn't he walk out of the door a few months ago?

"You're in a new relationship, huh?" he chuckled bitterly, sitting down on the wooden chair beside you. "Well, it's not a relationship - it's more of a friendship." you admit, doctors and formula one drivers have a lot in common - they both didn't have time for relationships.

Dr. Pritchett saw you as eye-candy. Something to pass time around.

"That relaxes me a bit," he hummed - letting the alcohol take full control of the situation. "I regret breaking up with you, to be honest." he scratched his nose, fearing your response. "Charles, don't." you warn him a disapproving stare.

You already learned from the past - you already let go of your wings in order to fly. He didn't have the right to take that away. He didn't have the right to take away your independence.

"I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to get back - together, bebe." he used the same term of endearment, waiting patiently for your reply. "You can't be serious," you scoff - feeling the eyes on you.

"I'll give you time, but you know how to find me." he stood up.

and you'll always find him.

(ONE YEAR LATER)

officialyour_name: never thought i'd be sharing a candid shot, but here we are ❤️

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"I can never seem to get rid of you," you chuckle - laying on the sand and watching him attempt to make a sand-castle. It's been six months since you last gave him a chance. Twelve months since that fateful gala. You've never been happier. "Well, you're jealous because my sand castles are beautiful." he boasted, filling it with water.

"Sure, bebe." you teased.

He's changed a lot. He's more honest with his feelings. He talks to you about his problems - instead of keeping it to himself.

He wasn't a good boyfriend before - but he was a great boyfriend now.

Charles_Leclerc: We gave it a bit of thinking, and we realized that we look better together. I realized that I'm better with her. Cheers to dancing in Ibiza, singing down L.A, slipping down Dubai, and drinking Martinis by the beach. @officialyour_name

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soldforparts12: YES! I KNEW THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN

officialyour_name: I LOVE YOU

officialyour_name: We look better in RED. Missed you, drama king.

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[alienpossession]

Prologue of my own take for this alien story by @apushforfolly

A little bit connected to @fullfriendnerdpurse story because imagine how convenient that he used the guy I planned to use on one of his alien story, and I linked it to my early caption too that you'll find later below. Kudos to @cleanstatevessels for bugging me consistently (LOL) to fulfill my promise

Sander van Broek is a Dutch fitness model and businessman. He's a rather established name in the fitness industry and that caused him to frequently fly all over the globe for fitness expo and bodybuilding meet where he will meet old friends, build new business and personal network or sometimes speak as a panel for his experience. Due to that, Dubai become a very sensible choice of residence for him because it's practically a global hub nowadays, and he's more than lucky to have some people he knows that can show him good places to rent

Sander knew Andrei from a couple years ago as fellow fitness enthusiast. They were cordial at first, but similar type of jokes and life mindset eventually bonded the two men and they've been close friends ever since. Andrei conveniently also worked as a realtor, guess his easy-going personality and charming look proven to be helpful to close deals with the rich and wealthy. Not to mention that he's a polyglot, capable to speak Romanian (his native tongue), Spanish (his girlfriend's native tongue and still part of broader Romance language), French, Russian (language spoken by his boss in the real estate firm), English and Arabic, making him probably a great asset to attract international clientele. All the places he shown were remarkable and located in great spots, but Sander felt the prices to be a bit steep.

"Crazy view, eh? This place gets both of the best sight, and the way this room perfectly captured the sunrise and sunset, perfect righr?"

"Certainly yeah. But again, this is like the 5th place you shown me to be above my budget. I have money, but I don't think I wanna blow it for rent,"

"No worries, price is pretty much negotiable, you know. Let's talk about it while drinking in my office, shall we? We're done looking anyway,"

"How negotiable are we talking about here?"

"You'll be surprised," said Andrei with a smirk, grabbing his Ferrari key and ready to leave the unit with Sander following him closely right behind him

When they arrived in the towering glass skyscraper, Sander cannot help but look upward until his eyes blinded by the sun. Dutch might be the tallest people on Earth, but there's no such tall building in the Netherlands, that's for sure. Andrei tossed his key to the valet and strut to the lobby with confidence in his step, everyone seemed to know him just by looking at him. Well, not like you can ignore a presence like Andrei anyway, he just demanded such attention to every spaces he walked into. As the elevator flies through the floor, he just hummed casually while Sander still marveled at the whole bunch of floors they passed through and how far they are already from the ground within seconds. As the elevator dings at the 66th floor, it opens to a short hallway with lobby in the end of it. The two receptionist greeted Andrei and Sander warmly and as he stepped through the lobby area, the door behind him closed

"That's just the way it is. Don't be afraid hahah,"

"Just surprised on how loud it was, that's all,"

"Okay, you go to the 2nd room after you take left, okay? I'll be there in a sec, gotta talk to boss,"

"Sure thing,"

"Oh, and by the way, what do you want to drink?"

"Anything is fine actually. Just don't get me too drunk, we're still talking about apartment,"

"Okay, as you wished. Just wait for a sec, okay?"

"Sure bro,"

So Sander fidgeted rather awkwardly in the dimly-lit room all by himself, waiting for Andrei to come back. So that's the boss? Piotr something? Sander saw a glimpse of a man with traditional white Arab headdress, the guy is massive and he seemed like a rather stern boss. Is that guy the Russian's counterpart? He's pretty sure he heard Andrei said his boss is Russian, but that one clearly seemed like an Arab and he's pretty sure he read that "Piotr" is the one written in the gold plaque attached to the slightly opened door earlier

---

"Frankie, how's Piotr doing?"

"Still not awake and no response from his body, my Prince. Just very tense and excessively sweating. Probably the slug still trying to wrestle the control over," said the nerd from a hidden office suite right behind the bookshelves within the CEO room

"You see, Andrei? I told you, some of these guys are just not that easy to be taken over. It's beginner's luck that you got someone as massive as him as your vessel," said the Prince from his chair

"Well, clearly Piotr was not easy to be taken over. For starter, he doesn't even understand what the fuck you are saying since he only speaks Russian and here you are prancing as an Arabic prince, and two, I told you I'll take care of him. He trusted Andrei, trust means easier takeover as they won't raise their guard or being too defensive,"

"Show me then. I see you bring a fella earlier. Show me how much "trust" will help you take that guy over. I check his profile, seemed interesting,"

"Pffft, you're underestimating me, Prince Hamid. You see......*take a bottle of wine from one of the small cellar in the CEO room* *take his shorts down* *painted the glass with his black slug* it won't even take more than 5 minutes and he'll be under my control. You'll give that body up to me and the chain of command, including the fate of that dweeb, if I can prove it to you how well my method works," Andrei said as he poured the red wine into the slug-stained glass. The slug camouflaged itself by changing its color and texture to match the wine's depth of color. Mere seconds later and it seemed like it's always been red wine and nothing else ever added there.

"And if you failed?" the prince smirked

"I'll let that nerdy friend of yours used me as he pleased," Andrei hissed while looking at the nerd with disgusted look as the nerd tended to his passed out boss

"Deal. I'm inside a Prince for a reason, young man. I know what I'm doing,"

"Yeah, he's in the middle of a climax when you shot yourself into his asshole. It's not like he can fight you, he's spent. And you got that nerd helping you. Me getting inside of Andrei might be luck, but the rest of those folks you met, the people I takeover, all taken over smoothly because they never thought their own realtor turned out to be something out of this world and all of those process were hella smoother than my first takeover of this stud," Andrei said as he wipes the remnant of the cum-slug in his piss slit with his fingers, give it a delightful lick before putting on his pants back. He then strut to his office to seal the whole deal with his so-called "friend" while the Prince followed him with some distance.

----

"Hey there, sorry. Searched for some of the documents first and talked with the boss about work," said Andrei as he barged into the room where Sander already waited for him

"That's okay, is that for me?" Sander asked, his eyes eyeing the glass of wine Andrei held alongside the bottle and some papers in his other hand

"Oh yeah, for you. Sorry about that," said Andrei, a little bit forgetful about his sole goal as he played Andrei a bit too realistic sometimes while he handed over the wine glass

But instead of directly drinking it, Sander just simply put the glass on the table, which trigger raised eyebrow from Andrei

"You don't want to drink first?"

"Oh no, let's hear first about those units, and maybe if we reached a deal, I'll drink,"

"Ahh....okay *internally cursing Sander*. If that's what you want. So, basically, you can get those units with half of their prices, max,"

"What? Half?! That's so great, how the hell that happened?"

"I told them you're going to be a long-term tenant and with your job, they probably won't have to worry about the payment and all. Just basically convinced them, you know,"

"Are you playing with me right now? Is there something I have to do for them or anything? Half is crazy, bro,"

"No, I'm serious. But yeah, they wanted something. Nothing nefarious or anything, the owner of the last unit just wanted you to help by personally training their son," Andrei said, trying to hide his grin from Sander by turning his back to him and acting busy in his table

"Really? That simple? Huh well, cheers to that then," he said, instantly taking a gulp of the wine in one go due to his excitement

Not even 5 seconds later, the glass dropped to the floor as Sander's body instantly having a massive seizure. His eyes fluttered and mouth foaming like crazy as his body wriggled like a seaweed, flailing here and there purely moved by the spasm of his own body. The Prince steps into the room with his timer recorded 0:25 seconds left. Upon witnessing the state of the man he saw walked earlier, he smirked because there's no way this guy would be back to normal within seconds! But, in a plot twist the Prince didn't see coming, Sander instantly groaned when the timer left 0:08 seconds as he then stabilized and start taking normal, paused breath.

"You thought I'll fail, huh?"

The Prince just seethed in anger. The timer stops at 0:02 seconds, but promise is a promise so a black, oil-like slug gets out from the Prince's ear and then slide off to the floor. It purred upon meeting another slug that came from inside Andrei's body before heading to their respective new vessel. As both men cracked their neck upon the alien entering their brain, Sander murmured

"This guy really didn't see it coming. He simply thought he's going to die or something, that's all what I gathered from his final memory. The burst almost caused his clothes to torn apart by the way, he really likes tight clothing," He said while trying to assess and fix his tight shirt that enveloped his muscular virile form

"Well, the rest of his memories will be accessible to you for the next couple hours so you can lounge around if you want. But yeah, as I said, the owner of the unit wanted you to train their eldest son. Of course the owner is also one of us, but I guess he has that attachment issue to his human vessel or something, some of the team are watching him closely to ensure that he can serve in full capacity or else we will just abandon that old fit man. But in the meantime, I'm the one tasked to ensure we also convert his eldest son. He's based in UK, but he'll move to Dubai in the next few weeks. Since I'm no longer Andrei, you'll do the job alongside Sander, is that clear?" said the alien formerly inside Andrei that now comfortably reside inside the authoritative Prince

Both Sander and Andrei just nodded and said "okay" slowly, one still trying to adjust to a new life with a vessel and the other one still dejected that he just lost a nobility's physique. But not like any of them can say no, they understand that their mission is important to the cause.

"And now, I'm going to leave this premise and contacted HQ for update about our changes. And, let's not try to make my father's suspicious that his youngest Prince went missing for long period of time with no possible info on his whereabouts, don't want to make that old man worried sick. Let's update each other's progress a month from now, hopefully by then you two and Piotr plus the nerd have more progress in branching out, I'm the Prince after all, yall report to me,"

----

"So Mike, how do you like this condo? Your father told us to take good care of it for you. Or you want to look at some spaces to rent on your own?" said Andrei and Sander to the oblivious Mike, not knowing the fate that awaits him.....