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lovelynim · 6 months

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A Poor Bastard

Genshin Impact - Kazuha x Scaramouche

Collab with @ticklygiggles

A/N: I'm glad to present my very first collab with Mia (@ticklygiggles)! I've been wanting to write something with her for a looong time and I was really excited when she agreed to my request. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did! ~

Summary: After a night together with Kazuha, Scaramouche finds leaving the samurai in the next morning to be harder than he expected it to be.

Word count: 3539 words

He could barely stand the look on Kazuha's eyes. That fondness and love overflowing from his pupils made Scaramouche want to hide under a rock. The vulnerability that it brought him to feel those cold hands touching his body and his warm lips kissing his cheeks or brushing against his ears as words of love were whispered into his ears, it was all so overwhelming... but so nice at the same time.

It wasn’t long since he had the chance to meet this member of the Kaedahara clan, but the pace in which he got… fond of him was worrisome, to say the least. Unlike other people he met through the years, there was something different about the wandering samurai that made Scaramouche feel strange. The balladeer wasn’t sure himself why - or how - but before he could he take his actions in account, he found himself lying down in the middle of a pile of blankets and pillows, with a kimono that barely covered his skin and, on top of all that, in a room that wasn’t his own, but Kazuha’s.

Resting his head on Kazuha’s bare chest, Scaramouche looked up, still denying the most obvious explanation. The other had a peaceful, content expression in his sleep.

Against his better judgment, Scaramouche remembered last night and hated to feel his cheeks turning red, the heat traveling to his ears.

Yesterday, when Kazuha suddenly said that the night was perfect for taking a walk together in the Chinju Forest, (a place they both often went for privacy), Scaramouche, although he looked reluctant and sullen, followed the samurai who gently took his hand and intertwined his fingers with his.

Every step he took felt like he was floating, like Kazuha's hand in his was the only thing keeping him going. That was a sensation he often felt when he was with his partner, his senses becoming numb as he felt surrounded by Kazuha's presence. The only thing he could hear was Kazuha's voice; the only thing he could feel was Kazuha's cold hands; the only thing he could smell was the maple scent of Kazuha's skin; the only thing he could see was Kazuha's beautiful face; and the only thing he could taste were the kisses that Kazuha planted on his lips as they went deeper into the forest, leaving him breathless and with trembling legs.

They hadn't done much, they were both reserved people so they usually didn't talk and if they did, Kazuha had to corkscrew the words out of Scaramouche and it seemed like it was something he enjoyed doing.

It had been a quiet walk, stopping occasionally to enjoy the views and to share a kiss that Scaramouche complained about, but he always closed his eyes softly when he saw Kazuha approaching and opened his mouth slightly.

Scaramouche wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but suddenly he found himself in Kazuha's room, the samurai tugging at his clothes to make him wear something more comfortable. In the blink of an eye, both of them were in the same place where Scaramouche had woken up. Kazuha's arms wrapped around Scaramouche's body, snuggling happily against him.

“Hnng… Kuni?” A groan escaped Kazuha’s lips when Scaramouche decided to sit up, pushing the samurai away and bothering his slumber in the process. The fatui harbinger looked over his shoulder, feeling how the other guy pried at the back of his clothes, as if to pull him back to bed. “Good morning…” Kazuha sighed, smiling lazily at him. Damn it.

Scaramouche couldn’t stand that look in his eyes, the affection, the care, the- the care those eyes carried. Avoiding looking back, he turned his head away. “Morning, Kaedahara,” he muttered sharply, trying to keep his tone cold, uninterested, putting his best efforts to keep up with that sweet lie.

Feeling his hopes that those would be the only words they would exchange, Scaramouche felt a stronger tug at his back, noticing how Kazuha closed his palm around the hem of his kimono. “Where are you going? It’s too early…”

Scaramouche tsked, pressing his left hand on his forehead while trying to organize his thoughts. Don’t give it away, don’t give it away, he told himself repeatedly inside his head. “I have things to do, you can sleep all you want.”

“But we-”

“I was just bored and you kept me company and entertained me for the night, that’s all. Don’t get wrong ideas,” he replied sharply, already expecting to bring an end to those interactions that messed with his heart and mind. However, as a soft chuckle reached his ears, he couldn’t help but to turn around to face Kazuha.

The samurai rested his head on one arm, while the other remained stretched, tugging at Scaramouche’s clothes. He had a handsom- ahem, annoying grin on his lips. “So it was entertaining, Kuni?”

The sultry voice tone made heat reach Scaramouche’s cheeks at unmatchable speed, making the harbinger sink his teeth on his lower lip to restrain himself from squealing at that exact moment. He fought the urge to retort, only because he knew he was going to stutter like a fucking idiot and Kaedehara Kazuha would laugh at him, but did it really matter? As soon as he had opened his mouth to finally say something back, Kazuha let out a playful laugh, his eyes shining with mischief.

Scaramouche's breath hitched and he started to move again, "I'm leaving."

"Ah, Kuni!" The samurai complained, pulling at the fabric of Scaramouche’s kimono to make him stay between the warm pillows and blankets. "What's wrong, Kuni? I can entertain you a lot longer, if you want. Wouldn’t that be good?”

Scaramouche steadfastly refused to turn his head and see Kazuha straight in the face; he could hear that handsom- annoying smile on his lips and he was sure he wouldn't be able to contain himself if he saw it. What could he do if he saw Kazuha smiling at him sweetly and mischievously at the same time? He'd probably have red cheeks and, damn it, that pretty smile!

"Why are you so annoying? Do you think I have nothing better to do than waste my time here with you? Let me go this instant or you'll see what- K-Kaedehara!"

An offended gasp escaped Scaramuche's lips as Kazuha wrapped his arm around his waist. The balladeer tensed, but he turned his head to see Kazuha's face and instantly regretted it, his heart skipping a beat.

Kazuha was smiling widely. He seemed to be having so much fun despite Scaramouche's threats and harsh words. “That’s not fair,” the samurai complained lightheartedly, palming at the balladeer’s waist. “You always leave me like this, Kuni, and I never get to know when I’ll see you again.”

“You- ugh…” He felt a shiver run up his spine when Kazuha’s fingers brushed and stroked that spot, instinctively leaning away from the touch and - following the samurai’s plan - closer to Kazuha. Scaramouche tugged at the other’s arms with both of his hands, trying to pry it off his body while keeping his reactions down. “Don’t t-touch me so cahasually, Kaedahara,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as he felt another pull on the back of his clothes.

“But you like it, Kuni,” Kazuha was grinning even more than before, continuing to lightly stroke Scaramouche’s waist, grazing his fingers over the thin clothing that covered his skin. “Promise me you will stay longer… please…,” the samurai mumbled playfully, managing to drag the balladeer into an embrace despite his squirming.

Before the fatui harbinger could figure his way out, he was already laying back next to Kazuha, with one of his arms wrapped around his back and the other holding him by his waist. “Your hair smells so nice…” Kazuha whispered, inhaling deeply the sweet scent of Scaramouche’s perfume, kissing the shell of his ear before burying his face in the crook of his bare neck - which made his partner gasp lovingly.

It was hard to decide what he should focus on: Kazuha’s legs intertwining with his, the feeling of Kazuha’s lips against his skin or how awfully ticklish Kazuha’s hands felt while resting over his ribs and waist. That damned samurai, Scaramouche thought, leaning his head in the opposite direction. “You shahameless b-bastard,” he groaned as giggles threatened to pour from his lips, making his heartbeat increase in panic.

Scaramouche clenched one of the blankets around them with his free hand, grasping it tightly to try to make the other’s teasing more bearable. Meanwhile, he used his other limb in an attempt to push Kazuha away.

His foot kicked, planting his heel into the futon as the sensation was slowly overwhelming all his senses, making it hard to continue with any reasoning - did reasoning ever worked with Kazuha?

Kazuha giggled against his neck. "You look so nice dressed like this, Kuni," he said, taking a deep breath, continuing to inhale more Scaramouche's scent. "I want to eat you whole."

"Sh-Shahaha-meless!" Scaramouche repeated, pushing Kazuha harder and refusing to open his mouth once more because he knew those stupid giggles would spill out at any second.

"You keep calling me that, Kuni," Kazuha whined and Scaramouche shivered, shutting his eyes tightly when he felt the brush of Kazuha's lips against the fair skin of his neck. "Can't you be a little gentler with me?"

Scaramouche knew perfectly well that Kazuha was just acting hurt. It pained Scaramouche to admit that the samurai had grown immune to his snarky comments and mean words. If anything, it made him laugh every time he heard Scaramouche angrily yell at him, but what hurt him the most was the fact that he had already gotten so used to Kazuha that he knew that his words didn't come out with the same venom. He knew his words didn't have the effect they had on everyone else; he did not cause fear, but tenderness in Kazuha's eyes.

"What's the matter? Did the mouse eat your tongue, Kuni?"

He really couldn't stand that sweet but mischievous voice of Kazuha. It made his blood boil with anger, how dare this little samurai disrespect him like that?! However, at the same time, that playful tone caused something heavy, warm, and sticky to pour into his chest, his stomach filling with that feeling of wings fluttering. Disgusting!

"Kuni~," Kazuha sang, and Scaramouche jolted with a strangled noise when the hand on his waist lightly traced that curve over his kimono. "Kuni, can't you talk anymore? Won't you tell me I need to know my place?" Scaramouche felt his lips trembling, a stupid smile threatening to appear as he felt fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his ribs. "Won't you call me shameless again? Could it be that you are enjoying yourself?"

Not only was his face on fire, he also felt the heat of embarrassment going all the way down to his chest and his ears and even the back of his neck. He wanted to disappear! “Shuhu- agh, s-shut it, Kaehedahara!” He growled, trying to sound angry through a stream of adorable giggles.

He hated (but not really) how easily Kazuha handled him, having him just where he wanted to toy with his sensitive body as much as he pleased. Fingers stroking his ribs at a spot awfully close to his underarm and a hand squeezing and pinching his waist restlessly. Scaramouche felt weak, if he wasn’t already laid down, his knees would probably be at the verge of giving up - all thanks to that stupid samurai.

“Why?” Kazuha asked innocently, nuzzling against the balladeer’s cheeks and making an embarrassing squeal leave his lips when soft strands of his hair brushed against his ear. “I like when you smile like that, Kuni.”

“Y-you bastahahard, lehet go!” He protested, feeling how Kazuha only pulled him closer, even pressing him against his own body in retaliation to the constant pushing.

If there was anything that was making the fatui harbinger even more flustered was the fact that how effortlessly Kazuha made it look: the way he held him down, the way he rested comfortably by his side without a pinch of fear and even the way he could easily reduce Scaramouche to a puddle of sweet laughter. How utterly embarrassing, he thought.

But, (un)fortunately, he couldn’t pay much attention to this voice inside his head thanks to a new, electric sensation that ran across his body. Before Scaramouche could notice, Kazuha pushed the hem of the kimono away, having free access to scratch and tickle the delicate skin of his bare middle and sides, circling his navel in an awfully ticklish manner that made him want to crawl up the walls, not to mention how terribly effective the scratching on his sides were.

“I could spend all day playing like this, Kuni,” Kazuha breathed into his ear, making the balladeer jerk his head away in another fit of soft, but angry, laughter. “I could even let you play with me if you wanted,” he chuckled softly, amusing himself with Scaramouche’s reactions while his fingers drummed between his ribs. “So why must you leave me, hm?”

‘Red’ was an understatement to describe how Scaramouche’s face looked at that moment. “Stohohop it ahAHalready, yohohou l-lowly idihihiot!” He laughed through gritted teeth, not sounding as intimidating as he wanted. Kazuha smiled, as if those words passed through some sort of filter inside his head.

Actually, did Kazuha actually have some kind of filter for Scaramouche's words? Could it be that he was hearing the opposite of what Scaramouche was telling him? He didn't doubt it was like that, otherwise, how was it possible that his skillful little fingers kept digging into his ribs and squeezing his waist?!

"AHAHA! Ka-Kahahazuha!" Scaramouche complained between laughs, no longer feeling strong enough to contain all those embarrassing noises that Kazuha was forcing him to make. "I dohoHOHOn't wahahant to stahahay w-wihihith you- stahahap tihihickling mehehe!"

"Oh? Tickling? That's what I'm doing?" Kazuha teased, grinning widely against Scaramouche's cheek. "Is Kuni really ticklish?"

Oh he was enjoying every second of it: turning Scaramouche into a flustered mess, tickling him like this, gently but so maddening at the same time; Scaramouche knew Kazuha was enjoying all of it. He just wanted to make Scaramouche become a stuttering, laughing mess!

And Scaramouche hated how well it was working.

"Is my Kuni really ticklish?" Kazuha repeated and Scaramouche couldn't help but squeak when he felt cool air being blown into his ear, making him giggle like a kid. "Right here in this ear of him? Or all the way down to his ribs?" Scaramouche laughed brightly when he felt fingers clawing at his ribs, forcing him to lean closer to Kazuha's body. "Maybe his hips too?"

"Kahahazuhahaha!!" Scaramouche cackled loudly, throwing his head back as the electric, ticklish sensations washed over his body in mind. It was overwhelming, overwhelmingly… nice. No, no! What was he thinking? Kazuha- no, Kaedahara was an idiot for daring to touch him like that! “G-get yohohour hahAHAhands ohohoff mehehe!”

“But your skin feels so nice, Kuni,” Kazuha cooed, looking down to his own hands as he continued to tickle Scaramouche without a break, chuckling amused when he saw the way his partner reacted to each and every touch. “And I just found out it’s so sensitive, can’t you let me play a little longer?”

“F-fuhuhucking bahahastard!” Scaramouche cursed, pressing his arms tightly against his torso when the samurai threatened to move his hand a little higher. For some reason, it never got better: Kazuha’s caresses and touches only tickled more and more, as if his body couldn’t ever get used to it - as if the samurai knew just what buttons he needed to push to make the balladeer laugh like a little boy. “Yohou ahAHAlreheady knehehw it!!”

“Did I? Archons,” Kazuha gasped, feigning surprise before nestling his face close to Scaramouche’s, of course, without letting the tickling up. “Maybe it’s been so long that I forgot, Kuni,” he cooed, “and since you want to leave me so bad… maybe I should make sure I will remember it next time, hm?”

The fatui harbinger let out an ungodly howl when the samurai scratched his stomach with his short, blunt nails. It was definitely different from before, as if Kazuha wanted to show him what actual tickling felt like or, maybe, as if he wanted to tickle something out of him. Scaramouche tried to suck his stomach in as he laughed and squirmed inside the other’s grasp, but his fruitless attempts didn’t reward him any break from the assault - only more restless tickles on his middle and ribs.

“Unless, Kuni,” Kazuha resumed talking, not even sure if Scaramouche could bother himself to pay attention to his words when he was laughing so hard, “you decided to stay a little longer.”

“If you could spare this poor bastard some more of your precious time, it would be easier for me to remember such details about you, don’t you think?” The teasing, but stern voice tone Kazuha used felt more threatening than any of Scaramouche’s words.

Scaramouche knew he wouldn't be able to fight Kazuha's tickling anymore. His touches felt like electricity rushing through his whole body and the laughter wouldn't stop pouring from his lips. It all was driving him crazy and he absolutely hated it, he loathed that he was actually not hating this too much.

What had he become?

"So what do you say, Kuni?" Kazuha purred, so close to Scaramouche's lips. "Are you going to stay here with me?"

Scaramouche shook his head, "I wohohuld nehehever- OKAHAHAY! OHOHOKAY!" Scaramouche jerked heavily when he felt Kazuha's fingers clawing at his stomach, his other hand finally finding its way under one of his arms, making him howl in nearly hysterics. "FIHIHINE! I'll stahahay with yohohou, dahahahammit!"

"Will you? How do I know you won't flee away as soon as I stop, Kuni?"

Scaramouche shook his head, shrieking with laughter and feeling tears rushing down his cheeks. Was Kazuha trying to kill him right now? Or did he just want to drive him crazy?

"I wohoHOHOn't!"

"You promise?"

"Dahahammit, KAHAHAZUHA! Fuhuhcking stahahap! I prohohomise!"

As quickly as it had started, Kazuha finally stopped. His hands rested flat against Scaramouche's stomach and side, gently rubbing them to make the sensation fade away.

Scaramouche was breathless. He gulped on sweet air, trying to calm himself down as residual giggles still made their way out, his body twitching slightly. He felt stupidly light and tired after having laughed like a maniac; he thought maybe he could actually flee away after all, but Kazuha was smiling fondly at him and his arms were tightening around Scaramouche's body, embracing him in warmth. Kazuha's lips were also pressing kisses to his cheeks and his nose and his forehead and lips. And he was being annoyingly clingy, but Scaramouche was being annoyingly stupid and didn't push Kazuha away because he couldn't and didn't want to.

"You're so annoying," Scaramouche mumbled, closing his eyes when Kazuha pressed a kiss against his cheekbone. "Why are you all over me? Give me some space, I'm suffocating," he said, but didn't move an inch away from Kazuha.

Kazuha chuckled, now kissing the corner of Scaramouche's lips. "Are you now? I thought you had stopped laughing." Scaramouche rolled his eyes and he fought back a yawn that turned into a squeak when Kazuha poked his tummy. "Is my Kuni sleepy?"

"This is your fault, Kaedehara. Who was the annoyi-hihing- okahahay! Okay!"

Kazuha giggled and he held Scaramouche impossibly close to him, making his head rest against his chest and intertwining their legs together. The warmth and comfort of another body against his was something Scaramouche learned to appreciate after meeting Kazuha. Sleeping peacefully and resting properly was foreign to him, but now he could do that almost nightly.

All thanks to this stupidly clingy samurai.

"Sleep, Kuni," Kazuha said above him, his chin resting against Scaramouche's head. "Let's sleep a bit more."

"... Don't tell me what to do, Kaedehara."

Kazuha chuckled happily and kissed the top of Scaramouche's head before he fell into a peaceful slumber. Scaramouche heard Kazuha's breath slowing down and then heard him snoring softly, but his embrace never went weak.

Who would have thought that he would find himself in the arms of a Kaedehara like this after all. Something felt tight in his chest, it made him feel bad, but good at the same time. The butterflies in his stomach had not stopped for a second and now that he was doing nothing, he could feel their wings fluttering more strongly.

He sighed heavily and with his cheeks burning, angled his head to press a kiss on the hollow at the base of Kazuha's throat. His head was spinning, so it would be best to take a nap together with Kazuha, after all, when he woke up, he would still be in the samurai's arms and his lips would be on him all over again, even his fingers wanting to draw more of his laughter; so until then, he might as well take a rest with the only person he could really rest with.

"Sleep tight, Kazuha."

#genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #kaedahara kazuha #scaramouche #kazuscara #ticklish!scaramouche #lee!scaramouche #ler!kazuha #tickle fic #collab #mia's things #mia's fics #mia's collabs

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im-yn-suckers · 1 month

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»»————- 𓆩♡𓆪 ————-««

𓆩♡𓆪pairing- bf!niki x hyperfeminine!gf 𓆩♡𓆪 warnings- kissing (one w a tongue), teasing, petnames, reader is said to have round cheeks and wear meakeup, lmk what im missing !! 𓆩♡𓆪 a/n; isn't the way i made this so cute? also im back pls forgive me ive been a responsible student (skl is biting my ass)

down𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 Data. . ███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 𝟐𝟎%

you've always been the girl who dressed in pink, skirts, bows, and knee high socks, the style complimented you. your makeup complimented the roundness of your cheeks though niki himself hates pink, he loves when you wear it. it only adds to the power part of the power couple nickname

one day, you entered the living room with a baby blue sweater, white tennis skirt, your my melody slippers, knee high white socks with lace and a bow at the top. you entered the room chewing some pink bubblegum, looking at your boyfriend who shut his phone off as soon as you walked in.

'hey angel' he sends a wink your way. 'hi riki' you say and blow a bubble. 'got gum for me?' he asks, holding one hand, the other toying with the bow on your thigh. you stand infront of himsitting on the couch. 'nope, it was my last piece' he pulls you closer, hinting he wants your attention.

you sit on his lap and play with the hem of his black shirt, quite the opposite of what you were wearing. you smile softly and press your lips together, getting your lipstick on his lips. you feel him smile into the kiss and you smile back.

his tongue asks for entrance, sliding across your lipstick stained, lower lip. you allow his tongue to enter and he steals your gum. you taste the bubblegum, but your mouth is empty. he smirks at you once you realize his little trick.

you hop off and find your pack of gum. grabbing a piece 'i thought you said this was your last' 'looks like there was one left.' you giggle and run up the stairs to your bedroom. niki thought he was slick, was he? no, you were slicker (if thats a word)

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kikohao · 1 month

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ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. operation: one bed

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; agent!jeonghan x agent!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; you and jeonghan were assigned a case together, you both played the roles of an engaged couple. why is it that you had to share a bed to sell the act? ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; spy au, one bed trope. fluff, mentions of seungcheol, soonyoung, and joshua ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing, kissing, slight jealousy, use of nicknames ("babe") ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 2k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; one bed trope with jeonghan has been rotting my mind for almost a week omg im really happy i was able to finish it on time! i've never really wrote a "kissing" scene before so im really sorry if its weird bye 😭 requests are always open! (texts, ot13 scenarios, drabbles, fics, mtls, etc) send an ask to be added to my taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated! <3

"Agent Kim, do you hear me?" You try to maintain a formal persona, as you talk into your built-in earphones as you make your way to the grand venue.

"Loud and clear. Make sure your earpiece is switched on at all times." A tuneless voice followed.

Upon entering the hotel, you and Jeonghan were greeted by the expansive lobby that screamed elegance and sophistication.

"They must be bloody rich," Jeonghan muttered quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. He was right though, there were multiple marble chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow upon all the guests.

It was extraordinarily exquisite.

"Pass the details," Jeonghan spoke into his earpiece as we moved to a certain corner of the corridors, hoping to maintain a low profile throughout the whole party.

After a few shufflings of his notes, he responded.

"Agent Yoon, you're Jacob Choi, son of the most prestigious Grand Celestial Palace. I'm pretty sure no one would go into more detail about you, but make sure they buy the act. We can't risk anything. Agent Y/N, you're Ana Wang, Jacob's fiancee, I'll get back to both of you with more details on the individuals. For now, you both are an engaged couple, seemingly having an Alliance with Mr. Lin."

"Got it."

You and Jeonghan made your way towards the reception to mark you both in now that you've got your "personal" details. By doing so, you both were accompanied by a middle-aged man, possibly someone who worked there. He wore a black suit and bow, around 5'8?

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," Agent Kim spoke from the earpiece.

"Why are you so tense?" Jeonghan muttered, "I'm not." You replied swiftly with a scoff earning nothing but a soft chuckle from him that kept on making my ears ring.

Why did your stomach suddenly start to churn? You disregarded it, possibly assuming it was hunger or thirst. Your train of thought was interrupted by a man who made his way towards us. He looked old, although, his rosy cheeks and flawless demeanor said otherwise. Guess he was the well-known, Mr. Lin.

"Oh, Mr. Choi!" He exclaimed out loud for everyone to hear, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and shaking it vigorously.

You tried extremely hard to keep in the giggles that were trying to escape your mouth as you looked at Jeonghan's reaction to the sudden interaction from the man. You forcibly had to look away because you knew you'd fuck things up the second you made eye contact with him.

"It's been so long! How're you and your fiancee? Ms. Wang ain't it?" He questioned, looking towards you. Maybe it was just you and your overthinking capabilities, but you swore something was off about how he looked at you compared to how he looked at Jeonghan, but you decided to brush it off.

"We're doing quite well, thank you." Jeonghan put out, maintaining a calm composure that very well contrasted with his normal personality.

"How's your mom doing? I'm so sorry that happened to her," continued the man. You and Jeonghan shared a quick glance at each other, one that said -- "Oh we're so fucked if we mess this up."

"Mom is doing quite well, thanks for asking. She's doing much better." You replied, noticing the intense tension that followed. Seems like staying here for too long may be risky.

"Babe, why don't we get something to eat? I'm starving." You shared teasingly, looking at Jeonghan, enjoying the flushed expression that lay on his face as you managed to throw in a pout to make it seem more genuine. You both needed to instantly get away for a while to ask Agent Kim about the next plan, and this was the only resort.

Jeonghan excused himself as walked towards one of the empty tables, hand in hand. As soon as we took our seats, Jeonghan voiced through his earpiece, "What do we do next?"

"So far, we haven't found anything. And, I'm guessing neither have the two of you. I checked with Agent Kwon regarding the party details. Seems like everyone attending is encouraged to stay the night, I'm pretty sure it's just for them to make more affiliates, either that or just to show off how rich they are. Either way, I and the crew think it would be beneficial if you did so, in order to uncover more details on Mr. Lin, it would also help in selling your facade since I'm pretty sure he's catching up with suspicions of his."

"Are you sure about that?" You spoke softly into the earpiece, observing the surrounding area, "It sounds quite risky,"

"It is, indeed, but it's your call on whether you want to."

You look at Jeonghan, he seems to have similar thoughts as you do -- he doesn't seem too fond of the idea.

"What do you 'reckon?" you ask him, simultaneously taking a sip of the non-alcoholic wine they'd provided all the attendees.

"Well, it is pretty risky. But, we'd better do as per Mr. Kim and Mr. Kwon since we'd have to put up with these titles until we get the requirements. It'd help sell the act." He finally spoke.

It was unusual. It was unusual how he seemed calm and collected amidst something like this. You'd imagined him to be some kind of reckless person like the persona he usually played so you weren't quite fond of going with him.

You nodded -- he had a point. The faster Mr. Lin believed us, possibly the quicker we could get this case over with.

And, this was it.

Jeonghan hurried towards the hotel management before it was too late to get a room while you sat at your spot, gazing at everyone who attended such a social gathering.

Guess you realized you zoned out when a young man, maybe in his 20s, sat next to you and started up a conversation like good old friends.

"No way, Ana? Is that you?" He put up a question, his face in awe.

"Oh, yes, hello." you manage to spit out, giving off a small smile as you gaze at Jeonghan, his back facing towards you as he converses with the management team.

Guess I'm fucked.

"You were never the one for these kinda parties, you always mentioned that they were too crowded. Guess you grew out of your phase?" He smiled cheekily avoiding the fact that he most possibly just insulted you, or at least the role you're currently playing.

Is this gaslighting?

A phase? How is not wanting to go out and talk with people a phase? You didn't know who Ana was nor did you ever meet her, but you most certainly didn't like someone like him straight up insulting someone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, maintaining a small smile. The last thing you wanted was your cover to get blown.

"Oh, Nothing. How's Jacob? He be treating you well?" He continued as he took a small sip from his cocktail drink.

You nodded, glancing every now and then at your so-called "companion" who's left you to talk to some guy who supposedly knows you. It made you laugh how he thinks he's all that -- you could easily spot how the guy was wearing a worn-out suit and tie, most probably already used, and how he just seemed sketchy.

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight,"

He did seem quite sketchy.

You spotted Jeonghan making his way back, guess God did hear your prayers after all. As soon as the guy spotted "Jacob" making his way towards us, he excused himself and left. Possibly to get another drink.

"Guess who managed to get us a room with my good looks," he winked at you, holding the keys high up. You couldn't help but chuckle.

Cute, you thought. Instantly regretting it when Jeonghan pointed out who flushed your face looked.

"Oh shut it, Yoon. Look, now you've ruined the mood." You shot back before he got a chance to say something sly.

His smile didn't last long though. "Oh and, who was that?" He asked, most likely mentioning the guy who'd been talking with you while he went to get the keys.

"Some guy who knows Ana. No clue, but he seemed sketchy." You replied, taking the keys from him.

A few hours passed with nothing but talking with the other participants, drinking, eating, talking again, drinking, talking...

"Huge thanks to everyone who was able to attend today. I wish all those returning back home a safe ride. Everyone who's staying for the night, you may make your way towards your rooms. Have a wonderful night!" Mr. Lin spoke out after clinking his wine glass, attaining attention from everyone present in the hall.

You followed Jeonghan as you made your way toward your room, slightly gazing in awe at all the picturesque art on the walls.

As soon as we entered our rooms, we both noticed the same exact thing.

There was only one bed.

One bed.

Anyone would expect Jeonghan to take up the sofa that was present in the room. Well, guess what? You were wrong.

There was a minute of silence before Jeonghan spoke out loud. "I'm taking the bed. You can take the bed if you want, but I'm not taking the sofa if that's what you're thinking." He smirked as he took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack before heading towards the bed.

Well, what did you expect?

That Jeonghan would give up the bed?

No chance and not at all surprising.

"You're such a gentleman aren't you?" You placed your shoes alongside him, making your way to the bed, not ready to give it up either. "They should've sent Joshua with me," You sighed out loud for him to hear.

"Joshua?"

"Well, anyone taking a good look at us would know that we're meant to be," You reasoned, followed by a breathy scoff from Jeonghan. You cooed at his reaction, "Aw, babe, didn't know you were the jealous type," you added, teasingly. You hated to admit it but playing Ana was fun.

"Yeah, right."

We both had got into bed by the time it was 11. You switched the lamp that was present in your dimly lit room.

4 AM.

He stared right at me, with his dusk-brown eyes. But, it wasn't a normal stare. But a stare that held desire within. You both faced towards each other, the middle barrier made of pillows long gone.

"What?" You slurred slightly, still half-asleep, heart, leaping in your chest.

It was now that you realized that you failed to realize how ethereal he looked. His tired eyes bore into yours, as his bangs lay lazily on his face.

He leaned in slightly, reducing the gap between us.

"Your eyes are really pretty," He muttered. It always amazed you how he didn't have much of a deep voice like other men, but still seemed dominant without it.

That was a stab to the heart. Not in a bad way though. In a way that made you want to kiss him. You wanted to hold him.

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but you swore you couldn't breathe as soon as he gently placed his lips, carefully molded into a heart, onto yours, locking it in place for a swift second before pulling away.

It lasted like a second or two, but your face looked as if you'd just run a marathon.

"Yoon, are you drunk?" you finally spoke out, not believing what just happened. You thoroughly enjoyed it, but how could he kiss you just like that?

"Yoon doesn't sit right with me, 'Babe' sounds much better."

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tossawary · 3 months

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I was wondering before starting "Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney" how easy it would be to pull a Canon Divergence AU to let Mia Fey live and... wow. Both Phoenix and Maya were RIGHT there on the scene minutes after the murder. If Phoenix had been five minutes earlier to meet them for dinner, he might have been able to intervene.

Like, now I'm imagining Edgeworth gets put on an attempted murder case, no big deal. This is Tuesday to him. He goes to talk to one of the injured witnesses of the case, who managed to stop the murder but was knocked over and concussed himself on the desk or something, and... it's Phoenix Wright, after all these years. The Different Second Meeting AU possibilities are many and they are delicious.

#tossawary ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #wrightworth #fic ideas #spoilers #mia fey

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mysterycitrus · 12 days

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i think isolating the bats from their teams and external support systems is like….. functionally bad. like wdym red hood is on dicks speeddial but his actual soulmate donna troy isn’t. why is everyone in gotham. why do these people have no friends

#fic where the league never meets the bats and are super intimidated by them but somehow dick is still nightwing #every fic where people call jason for help instead of the titans or the bop #fic where wally hangs around dick 24/7 but there’s no linda or iris or the twins or hartley or anyone else mentioned #donna is just totally mia. roy is there for jason to get mad at or fight ollie for #kon waxes poetic about being a clone but is otherwise an accessory to tim #the bats are so smart and special and league is so afraid of them as if everyone doesn’t collectively think bruce is cringe #cass is in hong kong. again. for some reason #no one knows who garth is #look me in the eyes and tell me guy gardner would give a shit about bruce waynes menacing aura

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dokidoki-muffin · 6 months

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Tickletober Day 27: Monster

Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom | Link x Zelda

This is a collab with the lovely Ginny @otomiyaa 🥰✨ (previously @otomiya-tickles) We've been working on this for a while but given the recent circumstances we decided that I will post both, the two artworks and fic, on my blog as one. You can also read it on her 👉 AO3!! Word count: 1173

Zelda rubbed her eyes. How long had it been? Her stomach answered the question with a loud growl. Right. Past lunch time. For hours she had been sucked into her books and notes, investigating her latest discoveries about Hyrule and the Zonai. It was always like this when she was spending time at home, at her cozy shared house in Hateno, together with Link.

Speaking of Link…

“Link, I think I might say yes to that lunch offer from earlier,” Zelda called out to Link who had been busy downstairs. She had heard him prepare lunch, turned down his offer to eat together despite the delicious smell. She had heard him eat, then the distant sounds of him rummaging around, and she kind of forgot that somewhere, in between all those moments, Link had announced to her that he would be going on a hunt.

Not that the knowledge of his plans could have prepared her for the sudden sight of a… monster. Though, not a scary monster.

“Link?!” Zelda covered her mouth and literally held back a laugh. Barbarian armor. The most hideous Lynel mask she had ever seen… Link was looking absolutely hilarious.

“W-whahat are you dohohoing?” Zelda blurted out, failing to muffle her laughter as she continued to admire her boyfriend’s “monster attire”.

“Going on a mission,” Link reconfirmed. He spread his arms. “Do you think they will fall for it?” he asked.

Well, one person was literally falling and it was Zelda, sinking to her knees as she couldn’t stop giggling.

“You look ridiculous hahaha!” she laughed. Monster Link cocked his Lynel head and scratched himself in a totally uncharming way.

“Do I?” he asked, and he slowly approached her. Eep! Zelda could immediately recognize his mischievous mood, but she couldn’t really do anything but laugh hysterically. Although, if that was laughter… Well, she wouldn’t know what to call what came next from her very own mouth.

Squealing, shrieking, howling, whatever. But it was definitely loud. All because Link calmly lowered himself on top of her, straddling her while his fingers unleashed a merciless tickle attack on her poor stomach and sides. And Zelda happened to be very ticklish.

“LIHIHINK! Ahahaha nohoho!” With the crazy mask that stared at her with its ugly eyes, and the relentless tickling on her lower torso, Zelda was suffering from a double laughing fit right now, and it was taking all her breath away.

“AHhhehehe Liiiiink whahaha!” Zelda cackled. Her hands failed to pry off her boyfriend’s hands that crept under her blouse, moving the fabric up to tickle her bare tummy and sides. Link’s monster act was definitely better than the looks of it. He remained quiet and proved to be an excellent tickle monster, with speedy fingers that carefully tickled their way from Zelda’s stomach all the way up her ribs and under her arms.

“EEEHEHEe nooooo Liiiink!” Zelda cried, but monster Link was serious about his little revenge - at least, that was what she thought it was. One does not simply laugh in the face of the Hero of Hyrule.

“I gihihive! Plehehease!” Zelda laughed hysterically as Link kept scribbling persistently at her sensitive underarms. She could hear him break character under his mask: a playful giggle. Link finally stopped his attack on her and sighed. He still sat on top of her and watched her with that silly mask.

“It was that funny, hmm?” he commented when Zelda greedily caught her breath, blushing like crazy. Zelda nodded tiredly.

“Yeah,” she wheezed. They both giggled softly when her stomach suddenly growled again.

“Ah. Right, lunch. Late lunch,” Link muttered. It was so funny to hear him talk, still with that silly mask on.

“I will get you something warm to eat,” he offered gently, moving off her, as he grabbed his mask.

“So, you’re staying around a bit longer then, Mr. Monster?” Zelda said teasingly, getting up as well and watching him walk to the kitchen.

Link nodded. “Yes, yes, I can stay a little longer. We can eat together first, and… uh…” Zelda watched him fiddle with the mask. He was tugging it, looking like he was trying to take it off, but… Zelda snorted once again.

“Wait, are you stuck?” she asked when Link continued to struggle with the ugly beast covering his face. Link shook his head wildly.

“Stuck? No, no. I just - I can’t get it off,” he muttered. Zelda slowly approached him with a smirk on her face.

“That’s the meaning of ‘stuck’, Link,” she said, and she wiggled her fingers from his exposed underarms down his sides. A delicious shriek filled their little house.

“Hehehey! Nonono,” Link giggled nervously, stepping back and tumbling to the floor. Zelda followed him down and had him right where she wanted him for a nice and fitting payback.

“What’s this? Could it be that the tickle monster is in fact… ticklish himself?” Zelda sang, attacking Link’s tummy with fast scribbles. That’s one thing the barbarian set did well: it exposed his tickle spots and sensitive bare skin well. Way too well.

“Zehehehelda! Nohoho I’m sohohorry!” Link was quick to apologize for his tickly prank. He continued his attempts to take off the mask, flailing his free arm and kicking his legs. Link was so ticklish it was actually funny, but also the cutest thing in the world. Zelda smiled fondly, but went back into battle mode when she managed to snatch Link’s hand that tried to defend his tickle spots.

“Now I got you, little monster,” Zelda said, holding his hand tightly while her other hand tickled Link’s exposed underarm.

“HAAAaaahh!” Link’s loud screech must’ve scared the birds away around their house, and Zelda laughed along with him. Link, who wasn’t usually this vocal, now officially sounded like the monster he tried to be.

“Convincing,” Zelda said with a smile.

“Just one more time,” she encouraged. It didn’t matter if Link would stake his attempts at taking off the mask. She tickled his armpit and drew out the loudest most precious squeals.

“Zehehehelda ahahaah! You wihiihin hahahha!” Link laughed. It was never a competition to begin with, but Zelda decided to accept his words of defeat. She grabbed the mask and tugged it off Link’s head.

Link let out a tiny wail in pain when the mask got finally unstuck, probably stripping his head from a hair or two, but he let out a sigh of relief. Zelda admired his bright red face, and she giggled. The mask still between her hands, she leaned down and kissed his lips. And Link kissed her back.

“Let’s eat,” she suggested when they moved apart, and Link nodded. “G-great idea,” he said with a cute blush on his face. The mask stayed off, for now, and Zelda was more than pleased to enjoy Link in his cute barbarian outfit a little longer before he would leave for his hunt. She couldn’t stop smiling. Well, well. Maybe this whole monster dress up was something they had to do more often!

#tickletober #tickletober2023 #miya&mia's tickletober #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #link #zelda #tickling #art #tickle fic

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sinofwriting · 6 months

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Figlia Mia - Charles Leclerc

Words: 6,231 Summary: When she had met Charles Leclerc for the first time in 2017, she watched as her grandfather gave him the impossible task of restoring Ferrari’s greatness and her the task of making sure he does so. Note(s): This was a lot of fun to write. I got to do a lot of digging into Ferrari’s history in motorsports and F1, and make sure that the changes I made to the history of Ferrari made some sense. I also got to reignite my love for stats and things. I spent a lot of time looking at different circuit stats (which will be relevant in the second part of this fic) and just driver stats. Used a translator for the Italian but not google translate. Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but: How I write the drivers in these fics is not based on my feelings for them, it is just what I need them to be. So, please don’t send me hate because your favorite driver says or acts or is regarded in a certain way. Thanks! Hope you like this!

Taglist | Masterlist | Part Two | Patreon

Figlia mia - my daughter stella - star

2017

She eyes her grandfather wearily. He had called her home early from her classes and she had rushed home to Maranello.

“Nonno, what is the matter?” His gaze turns to her and he smiles, the solemn look on his face gone as he sees her. “My stella. You are back home.” His accent is thick as it wraps around the English words, always willing to indulge her. She sighs, leaning down to hug him. “You called me back. Did something happen?” He shakes his head, patting her hand when she straightens. “No, I have a meeting that I want you to attend with me.” She frowns. “It is late in the season for a meeting. Did Vettel or Räikkönen break contract?” “No. It’s for the team, but more of a future prospect.” Her frown deepens. “If it’s Hamilton, he won’t leave Mercedes and you shouldn’t entertain him, Nonno. You only have so much energy.” “I don’t want to take him from Mercedes. He wouldn’t be able to win with us anyways.” He groans as he thinks of how long it’s been since his team has won, and has achieved the greatness they are supposed to. “I just want your opinion, they should be here any minute.”

An uneasiness sits heavy in her stomach at how cryptic he’s being with her, something he never is, but she sits in the chair beside him. Taking his hand in both of hers and breathing a sigh of relief at the strongness still in his hands, no shakiness to be found. He was in good health, she reminded herself as they waited. He hadn’t even had a cold for three years, but still her mind worries.

“Mr. Enzo, Stella, your guests have arrived.” Anita’s voice says through the intercom. He presses the button to talk. “Please have Andrea get them and bring them back and tell him to stay as well.” “Andrea is here?” He hums, “I asked him to come. I have an idea.” She doesn’t say anything else to that and keeps quiet as she waits for whoever to arrive.

There’s a slight relief in it not being either Vettel or Räikkönen, she wasn’t keen to meet them for the first time right now, not when she had rushed home. She also didn’t want her grandfather meeting them now for the first time, so late in the year where he could catch an illness.

A knock sounds on the wooden door and she turns her head to look at it. Releasing her grandfather's hand from hers and moving to stand behind his chair. Her normal position in such meetings.

“Enter.” He calls and the door opens. “Signor.” Andrea greets, as he steps into the room, two, or rather one man and one boy following behind him with wide eyes. “I have your guests.” “Please sit, the three of you.” He tells them and they all quickly do.

Her eyes narrow as she recognises the familiar face of the man who is currently running the Ferrari Driver Academy and the just familiar face of the current F2 champion. The sight makes her want to lean down, to question why a F2 driver of all people is being allowed to meet her grandfather. A luxury he hasn’t afforded a single F1 driver since her father died other than Michael Schumacher. And even then he had won a championship first with them. But such a thing isn’t not her place, especially in front of guests, so she keeps quiet as her grandfather does as well, clearly waiting them out, letting the tension in the room build.

“Charles Leclerc.” Her grandfather says and the boy practically jumps. “You started winning in karting before you were even ten in 2005 and never stopped. A second place in Alps, then fourth in the European F3.” She watches as he winces at the reminder of what he clearly views as failures. “But you won your first year of GP3 and now have won F2. Truly impressive.” His eyes are still wide and they dart to the left before returning. “Thank you, Signor.” Her eyebrows raise at the way the Italian term leaves his mouth. He clearly had invested time in his Italian lessons. “Don’t thank me. You’ve done well for yourself. And now you have an F1 seat.” Her eyes darted to Andrea, “Nonno.” She hisses, stepping forward. “Andrea has signed the appropriate NDA’s and contracts, stella. There is no need for your worry.” This meeting seemed to be nothing but worrying for her. And suddenly the employment contract she had seen in her inbox for Andrea makes all the sense, especially since it had been sent to her directly, not cc'd.

“You will be joining Sauber this coming season. Are you ready?” “I hope and believe I am.” “And you have a team? A trainer, your own PR manager? A assistant?” Charles shakes his head, cheeks red. “I’m afraid not. I only signed the contract two days ago. I haven’t made arrangements.” “And your plans for the 2019 season? Still at Sauber?” “I only signed a one year contract with them. So I hope to stay with them if I can.” He hums and the tone if it tells her everything she needs to know and it takes everything in her to not show the horror she’s feeling. “There will be a spot open at Ferrari for the 2019 season. Show me you can handle an F1 car and perhaps it will be yours.” The three sitting opposite stare at him with wide eyes and Charles’ mouth is open, jaw dropped. “And Andrea will be your trainer. I have a good feeling about you Charles Leclerc, prove me right.” He then nods his head towards the door and the three scramble to stand and leave with rushed goodbyes.

She stands behind him for a moment before walking around the desk and flopping down in one of the seats.

“That boy is going to get destroyed.” “He is a boy to me. Barely a year younger than you, I believe.” She scoffs, “please, nonno. You have just put the biggest weight on his shoulders. Prove to me? And what if he speaks of this? Of getting to meet the great Enzo Ferrari when the man doesn’t leave his house and hasn’t met any drivers or even team principals in person since Schumacher.” “Then you will handle it, I suppose. And I will be proven wrong about the boy since he had to sign an NDA. Not a word of this meeting or this trip to Italy.” “And if people ask about Andrea? How they met? How he came to work with him?” “The academy put them in contact together. And no one will think anything of it. He is too distantly related to think that we have anything to do with it. Nor has he ever spoken of us.” His eyes soften as he really looks at her. “Everything will be fine, stella. I have a good feeling about this one.” She looks at him, worries still sitting heavy in her stomach, horror too, because god what if her grandfather had just sentenced him to forever chasing a dream he can’t have and faith in them that they are unable to deliver. She knows already that both Räikkönen and Vettel are feeling that way, their faith in Ferrari wavering if not gone. “I won’t be able to do anything to help him. Not for years.” “You will be able to help. Not as much as you will in a few years time, but you can still help. We still make decisions for the team and sign off on things.” “And if he leaves before then?” “He won’t.” His voice is quiet, but filled with unwavering faith. Faith she wants to feel herself. “He will be what our team needs to become champion and he won’t leave until he gets that.”

2018

“Vettel is not happy that he wasn’t told before about getting a rookie as a teammate.” She tells her grandfather, looking over the top of her laptop at him. “Sebastian will deal.” Enzo coughs. “And he won’t have a rookie as a teammate.” She makes a humming noise, looking at all of the articles about the announcement of Charles Leclerc joining the historic F1 team before opening her email again. “Should I cover Andrea’s costs again?” “Yes. As long as you aren’t in power with the team, I want Charles kept close.” “That won’t happen until the end of the 2023 season. You want us to pay for Andrea that long?” “Andrea is also family.” He reminds her, before lips twitch into a smile. “And there is a reason he doesn’t receive as large of a Christmas bonus as everyone else anymore.”

2020

“They want to sign Sainz for a two year deal.” He snorts, “and for what? Let me guess sponsors?” “They’re serious about this, nonno. His team has already approached us about a two year contract.” “And he can’t go to Aston because Vettel is going there for two years.” “And he’ll never go back to Red Bull. Mercedes won’t entertain the idea.” “But we are?” He groans, running a hand over his face. “God, what has happened to this team? He hasn’t gotten a single podium, a win! And he’ll hit a hundred races this year. That is who they want on the team?” “He was sixth in the driver standings last year.” “Could he handle it?” She frowns. “Maybe. We wouldn’t know until it happened. He’s older like Vettel, has more experience as well than Leclerc. But Leclerc already has wins under his belt, managed to get fourth in the standings in only his second year. He was teammates with Verstappen in his rookie year, so it’s possible he could handle it.” “A two year contract, huh?” “Two years.”

2022

“Sainz wants to be extended.” She rubs at her forehead, the email, moreso the wording was troubling. “And why should we?” “Because he finished ahead of Charles in the driver's standings last year.” “By less than ten points and due to our own team's failings. They way they embarrassed him in Monaco.” He shakes his head, the rage he felt that day watching it happen coming back. “Four podiums to one. And neither got a win.” “Who needs a seat?” “There’s rumors about Schumacher.” “No.” He shakes his head, fingers beginning to tap against his desk. “Maybe in a few seasons, but not now.” “Bottas, Guyuan, De Vries, Hulkenberg.” He scoffs at all the names. “A friend at McLaren said they’re looking to drop Ricciardo.” His fingers stop. “Ricciardo. He’d understand his role.” “And as long as we treat him better than Red Bull did or how McLaren are, we’d have him.” “Why do they want to drop him?” “Underperforming. Norris is doing better.” He looks at her disbelief. “Please tell me that’s a joke.” She shakes her head. “He gave that fucking fake British team their first win in a decade!” “He’s older and despite his knack for giving good development advice, they’re ignoring it for Norris’.” He rubs at his forehead. “Write him down. Maybe we can get a talk with him before another team manages to snatch him up. Who else?” “It’s all reserves and formers now. There’s Piastri who's serving as Alpine’s reserve this season, wouldn’t shock me if they’ve already signed a contract with him for the next year but haven’t announced it though. We or Haas really has Illot still under contract as a reserve.” He shakes his head. “Leave him in Indycar for a few seasons. Might try him in 2024 when we’re looking for another driver.” She nods, writing his name down with 2024 beside it. “And Piastri?” “No. Alpine probably has something signed with him already. They’d be stupid not to.” “That leaves Ricciardo and Sainz.” He frowns. “Reach out to Ricciardo. We nearly had him for 2021, we should’ve taken him.” “Understood.”

As she begins to type out her email to Ricciardo’s team and she wonders how Blake will react to seeing an email for Ferrari, Enzo speaks.

“How is Charles?” “Nonno.” “I can’t ask?” “You are fishing.” She replies, not looking away from her laptop. “But he is good. Ready for the season to start.” “Hmm. And will he be coming for dinner?” She pauses her typing, looking at him. “Are you asking him to come to dinner?” “I’d like to meet the boy that has made my granddaughter so happy.” “Oh, nonno. It is not a boy that is making me so happy. Just you. You have been in better spirits for the last year.” She laughs. “And isn't it interesting that it was only when you started seeing him that both of our spirits rose?” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t make me take the Leclerc name.” It’s a high insult to the Ferrari name, one that her grandfather has made sure that she knew better to even joke about, but he doesn’t react with his fiery temper, just smirks. “It’s serious enough for marriage but not for you to bring him to meet me?” Blood rushes to her cheeks. “You have met him.” “When he was a boy.” He counters. “One you had distaste for.” He reminds her not that she has ever forgotten.

She had told Charles on their third date about it, watching as his mouth gaped at her, unable to believe that the boy he was at the age could be distasteful. Now, he likes to tease her about it. About how she didn’t like him but as soon as he left the room and she was issued the challenge of making sure he got to Ferrari she did.

“I haven’t met him since. I haven’t met him as your partner. And we both know that you’ll be taking each other's names.” “It is too early to say that.” She tells him, voice quiet. “But I’ll message him. He’ll love to meet you.”

2023

“This is ridiculous!” “I told you that this would happen! You put your hopes and dreams on a boy and look at what has happened!” “I did no such thing!” “You did! And I told you that you would ruin him. That he would lose faith just like the ones before and now look.” She waves a hand at the TV in front of them, playing the lowlights of the season. “He didn’t just go to that meeting with Red Bull and then shut it down like he has before, he entertained it.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “He should’ve left us for them when they first fucking offered.” “You do not mean that.” “Look at what our team has done to him! Look at what you have done! I have no power there and barely do you. I get to vote on what drivers we add to the team, but it is one vote, against six others. Same goes for the general direction of the car, which we both were out voted in. And that is it, that is my power! I don’t get to give him the Ferrari team he deserves, that we deserve, because you signed it away when my father died until I turn twenty-seven!” She turns away from Enzo, taking in a shaky breath, before turning back to him. “And you will not ever bring it up to Charles that he considered leaving us or if he does. Because I set up that meeting with Red Bull for him.” He looks at her resigned, saddened, but not surprised. “You would let him leave?” “I don’t let him do anything. I love you, nonno. I love this team. But it is not just Charles that they are disappointing and letting down. It is our fans, our people, our family, our legacy, me, you. Next month, I get to finally take back our families power in the sport and it is already too late for this season and nearly too late for the next. I can’t even guarantee a good first season with me in charge because of where the car is already developed too. And the upgrades.” She shakes her head. “None of it would matter with the team that is working there.”

“What do you want to do?” She looks at him, struggling not to cry, and she folds herself down in front of him, taking her hands in his. “A new structure and house. The voting can stay, but it has anonymity, we don’t talk about who is going to vote for what, only after the votes have been cast we talk, discuss, but with us having the power to veto if decisions are being made too much on outside factors like money and perceptions. Drivers who have multi-year contracts starting next season can be present for the votes, hear why we voted for what we did and even jump in on discussions if they feel inclined. We change. We have been stagnant for too long. We need new blood and beliefs.” He starts to shake his head and she squeezes his hands.

“Nonno, please just listen to me.” She pleads. “We need a complete overhaul of the team, you know it and have said it yourself. I can’t just hire Italian first, not when that has ended with us where we are now. I can offer everyone severance packages, pay for it all myself, but no more Italian first. We take who is best suited for the team and hope they are Italian. Maybe we baptize them if they aren’t.” His lips quirk into a smile. “The strategy team needs to go, PR, social media, the race engineers.” “Sainz likes his race engineer.” “Sainz also likes to say that he comes up with the strategy used in the races but as soon as they fail, he backtracks. He is a fair driver, but he needs to be retrained in PR.” “His family needs a gag order.” Her grandfather huffs. “Yes, but that is not something we can do. What we can do is get him retrained and get a new PR manager for him, same with social media. Charles will be getting the same. He needs an image refresh.” “This is what you want?” “Yes. I want to bring our team back to greatness. I already have the people I want for the team, I’m just waiting for your approval and for the next month to pass before I start sending out contracts.” He sighs, looking in pain. “Can they at least speak Italian?” She smiles, standing to press a kiss to his cheek. “They can learn and they will quickly.” Another sigh leaves him but he smiles, warm and gentle at her. “Mia figlia, la mia stella, fai quello che devi. Il mio supporto è tuo, sempre.” My daughter, my star, do what you must. My support is yours, always. “Thank you, papa.”

October 23rd, 2023

She stands facing the back wall of the room, listening as the door opens and people trudge in. She tries to count the pairs of feet she hears. She knows how many are supposed to come to this meeting, how many she asked to come, but it wouldn’t surprise her if someone let slip that the new boss, and the big boss at that, had arranged a meeting that a few people would try tagging along.

It’s the sound of the door shutting and then locking from the inside that has her turning around, giving a nod of thanks to her bodyguard, Roman, who inclines his head before retreating to the left front corner of the room.

“I see you all made it.” She says, her Italian accent barely noticeable around the English words and she can see a few faces turn confused at the English. Ferrari was Italian, they spoke Italian, had meetings in Italian. And more importantly, she was not just Ferrari, but a Ferrari. One that only three people in this room had ever met in person, and only two others had seen her face because of video calls. “Good, let's talk about the dumpster fire that was yesterday.” She can see a few faces balk at her words, but it’s Sainz’s that gets her attention. “You don’t agree?” “It was an unfortunate thing that happened to Charles, but I still ended up in P3.” “Due to a disqualification. Which is also what happened to your teammate. This also is the third time you’ve ended up on the podium due to such a thing. Let us also not forget to acknowledge that while the FIA didn’t check your car, like they should have after finding that two of four of the cars they checked had issues with their planks, doesn’t mean we didn’t.” He frowns and so does a good majority of the room. “I don’t understand.” “Your planks were just like Leclerc’s. Just barely under what they should be. But still enough for disqualification.” Eyes widen and she continues. “Not that it matters, because I won’t be alerting the FIA of such a thing. Not when the teams didn’t get enough time to set up the car because of the sprint format and I don’t think we need to give McLaren more of a jump on us.”

Walking around the room, she nearly pauses behind Charles' chair. Wants so badly to squeeze his hand, to offer him comfort or a way to get his frustrations out, but she continues until she is at the front of the room.

“The FIA won’t get rid of sprint races, but myself and a few other team representatives, will be going to them with a new sprint format for the next season hopefully or for at least starting the 2025 season. I expect both of you,” she looks at Sainz and Charles, “to voice your support. And I’m sure Red Bull, Williams, Mercedes, McLaren, Aston Martin, Alpine, and Haas, will be saying the same to their drivers as well.” “You want us to support a format that could be worse?” Charles asks, and she can see a few shakes of the head at him. “No, I want you to support one that is better. For Sprint weekends, you will have free practice one and the sprint shootout on Friday. On Saturday, there will be the sprint, followed by second free practice, then qualifying. Sundays of course will just be race day. Does that sound worse?” “No. You think the FIA will go for it?” “The FIA won’t have much of a choice. And besides next year allows each team to have more tyre’s allocated, they’ll want something extra to help burn through them to make it more interesting.”

“Now,” She lifts the lid of one of the two file boxes she has. “Leclerc, Sainz.” Both grimace at the use of their last names, but she catches a glimpse of amusement from Charles. “I have meetings with both of your management teams after this. Sainz, you’ll be getting a new PR manager, Ana. She or her assistant Val, will be with you for every event, interview, or anything else PR wise. Sometimes they both will.”

She turns her head to look at Charles. “Leclerc, you're getting an image refresh. I’m not letting a driver for this team have a vast majority of people thinking there’s nothing behind your apparently good looks.”

“Why isn’t Charles getting a babysitter?” She raises a brow at the tone and question. “Ana and Val aren’t babysitters, they work in PR. They will be retraining you. Because at the moment I could be breaking your contract right now with four races left in the season due to the public clause and if you have to ask why, you need more help than I thought.” He looks at her in shock and she can see a few people in the room shift uncomfortably. “Also concerning both of you, you both will have new race engineers in Mexico. Your previous engineers were lacking.” They both look uncomfortable with the decision but don’t say anything and she turns her attention to Fred.

“Fred.” “Ms. Ferrari.” She smiles at the title, though there’s nothing polite or happy about it. “This is your team is not?” She gestures to the drivers, the heads of different departments that all sit in the room with them. “Yes.” “Then, why am I doing your job for you and handling them?” With that she starts throwing out the severance packages onto the table. When she runs out of ones in the first box, she takes the lid off the second and just tips it over, letting them spill out.

“Severance packages.” She states, seeing some people's confused looks. “Some are effective immediately. Others will be given after the last race.” “Fabio’s name is here.” “So is Gualtieri and Cardile. They have been given generous severance packages.” She reassures. “You will meet their replacements either later today or in Mexico.” “They are heads of their departments!” “And they have failed at their jobs. As has everyone who has been issued one of these.”

—

“How did they take it?” “Safe to say I haven’t made any friends.” “So, it's going well.” She snorts, smiling at Charles as he enters her hotel suite. “I’m fairly certain they all would like to burn me at the stake.” Charles frowns. “Not Charles of course.” “Is he there?” “Just got here.” She confirms. “Do you want to talk to your grandson?” She teases and predictably Charles flushes. “Yes, yes. I want to make sure that he’s taking care of you, protecting you.” She rolls her eyes at the last part but passes the phone to Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she does before stepping around him to her open laptop.

Leaning against the desk, she stares at the list in front of her. A list of drivers, currently on the grid, reserves, and not yet on the grid. Before the halfway point of the 2024 season she’d either have to sign contracts for one new driver or two for the 2025 season and now it just came down to who she wanted to reach out to.

A good amount of them are already on the bottom half of the page under the bolded words, not an option.

Verstappen was there, both Mercedes drivers, Bottas, Hulkenberg, Magnuessen, Alonso, Ocon, Stroll, Perez, Norris. She chooses not to look too closely at the fact that she doesn’t have Piastri there. She’d buy out a contract if need be and she knew Mark. If she proved that Ferrari could improve and be a winning team under her, he’d be willing to help her break a contract or two.

She jolts when a pair of lips presses themselves to her forehead, her phone being set down next to her laptop. “Your list is interesting. No Antonio?” “He’s a good development driver.” She says, typing his name out under not an option. Charles hums, sitting in the chair and then pulling her onto his lap, carefully pulling her legs to hangover the arm of the chair. “You have two Indycar drivers under possible.” She shrugs. “I’ll watch closely as the first few races go for them. They only have contracts for the 2024 season.” “Not that it would matter.” She grins, huffing out a laugh. “Not that it would matter.”

She watches as he peers at the list, his hands rubbing at her calf. “You have a lot of no’s.” His eyes narrow as he scans it again. “Mick, Ollie, and Vesti all under maybe?” “Vesti’s done well for himself, Mercedes is just going to waste him. Especially if he’s any good in an F1 car. Bearman’s had a strong first season in F2. Schumacher,” She hesitates. “I’m not keen on the idea. Especially with two seasons out of F1, but there is the opportunity to put him in Alfa Romeo.” “But Valterri and Zhou.” “Valterri knows he won’t be promoted back up. He’s doing good for being at Alfa Romeo, but he also has a lot of other ventures and pursuits. I’d like to keep him for another year or two after for development if I can.” He hums, “Alex and Schwartzman?” “Albon is sticking to Williams like glue. Which is understandable after Red Bull, but there’s hope.” She doesn’t mention that she’d think that he’d be a good teammate for Charles. “Schwartzman is already under contract with us. Just as a reserve and for testing, but who knows.”

He presses a kiss to her shoulder and he reads the top of the list, the possibles. He had only skimmed it before, but now he gives it his full attention.

“I’m on here.” “Yes.” “But,” “You don’t have an extension with us. You are only contracted with us for this next season. And as much as I’d like to keep you as would the fans and nonno, we haven’t proven that we deserve to have you here. I have to keep my options open that there will be two drivers I have to sign for 2025.” “I don’t like it.” He tells her, frowning. He didn’t like to think about not being at Ferrari, at the possibility of it, especially now with her at the helm and already making drastic changes. He didn’t know yet if those changes were good or not, but it felt like they were, he hoped that they were.

Piastri, Ricciardo, Drugovich, and he blinks as reads the last name, saying it outloud. “Sargeant. You have Sargeant under possible? Not a maybe but possible?” “Sargeant would sign a contract with us in a heartbeat, no contracts to break. 2024 will be a one year for him.” “Something has been signed?” She shrugs, “it’s common sense to keep him. Otherwise they’d just be dealing with a whole other rookie.” He sighs, jaw twitching. “I don’t like it. He has only scored a point because of my disqualification.” “I know.” “He has cost them much.” “I know.” Charles pouts, “he is American.” She lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “That will be your issue with him? His Americanness?” “Yes.” “Well, it’s just a possibility.” She smiles, before leaning down to press their lips together in a quick kiss. “Now, tell me out of everyone in the maybes and possibles who you’d want as a teammate.” “And what? You’ll make it happen?” “If I can give you a good season next year, I’ll do everything I can.”

He eyes the list, taking in the names he mentioned before and the few he didn’t.

Pierre would end in a dumpster fire and he was selfish enough to say that he didn’t want him as a teammate so they could keep their friendship, one so close to his heart. Lawson was an interesting idea, he had performed well for having to suddenly jump into a car. Alex would be a good teammate as well and he knew that Alex would also love the development side of things like he did.

He didn’t know enough about Drugovich or either of the Indycar drivers really. They had performed fair in F2 and were doing well in Indycar, but it was unknown. He could see them both though at Alfa Romeo. Ollie was too young to step into such a huge seat, maybe for him also Alfa Romeo in 2025 and by 2028 he’d be ready to step in and then take over a seat.

Oscar and Sargeant are both interesting for completely different reasons. He wishes that she had gotten power in the beginning of 2022 and when the Alpine drama happened, snatched Oscar up.

But there’s one name that he keeps on looking at, that’s circling in his head.

“Daniel. If I could have anyone, I’d want Daniel.”

There’s a shared pained history there and Charles knows that he took what was going to be Daniel’s seat in 2019 before Ferrari really started gunning for him while Renault took a keen interest in Daniel.

Charles could still remember around the fifth race of the 2020 season when Daniel had cornered him, looking nervous to be around him for the first time since their accidentally shared Vegas trip that made them break the ice. Daniel seemed so much smaller as he asked Charles if he’d be okay with them being teammates next season, and had seemed shocked by the relieved and happy grin Charles had given him.

She hesitates, “I never said anything, but I tried getting Daniel for 2024 and even 2023 when the rumors about McLaren dropping him started up.” “But Carlos?” “He asked for an extension, but nonno and me wanted to present a different option. But by the time I reached out, Red Bull had managed to snatch him back up. He’s only with them though for 2024. He’s free after that.” “So, you are saying?” He hopes. “I’m saying that, I’ve already reached out as of yesterday. Red Bull isn't in any hurry to get him under contract for 2025 and Blake has made it clear that Daniel isn’t signing any contracts until May or June to them and us.” “Which is enough time to prove that the team is improving.” “Yes.”

He stares at her wide eyed speechless. “What does that mean?” “If we improve?” He nods. “We sign you and Daniel until 2027.” She pauses, hesitating, but she won’t lie to him now. “We let you two battle it out at the beginning of the 2025 season. If Daniel is scoring more points, higher on the podium than you by break, you defend. We’ll ask you to let him pass if both of you can get on the podium or he has better pace and can get on it. We let him become world champion first. And it would go the other way around as well.” He rolls the idea in his mind, lets it sit in his stomach. “Daniel Ricciardo the 2025 world champion and Charles Leclerc the 2026 world champion.”

He lets them sit in the air, the idea of practically another three seasons before it could happen. Could he wait that long? Watch as Daniel got it before him? Watch as his teammate got it before him? Could he let himself be sacrificed for his teammates gain again? He thinks it over, because it is not fair for her to ask, to say, but that is what driving in Formula One is. It is not fair, with unequal machinery and only twenty spots available. To have to worry not just about your race but also your teammates depending on where the point standings are at.

But she is offering him something that he wasn’t before and with clearness, transparency. Not something that will be dropped on him in the middle of the race or as he’s about to finish lap ten or fifty. She’s telling him now what to expect and how it will go. She’s letting him know that it doesn’t matter which one is in the lead for the championship, just that whichever one isn’t when they come back from break, will be defending and he thinks now of her emphasis on the word. Not sacrificing, but defending. She wouldn’t let either of them be compromised so badly that they drop either low in the points or out of the points completely, but she would ask that they defend the other.

“I want it. Even if I do have to wait an extra year. It’d be worth it.” “And if you won in 2025 and then Daniel in 2026?” “We could trade off years, but I want it, I want that.” She smiles and there’s something sweet and dangerous about it. “Then I’ll make it happen.”

@eleetalks @cixrosie @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @benstormy @bibliosaurous

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #figlia mia - charles fic

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leclerc-s · 5 months

Text

mamma mia! - part three

masterlist previous next

mia tate do you think i would go to german jail for punching a reporter in the face?

daniel ricciardo please tell me you haven't already done that.

mia tate no.

mia tate but hypothetically speaking, if i did, it was because he asked me a really gross question and he was annoying.

max verstappen oh my god. this is hilarious. please tell me you did.

charles leclerc she did. it's on twitter.

daniel ricciardo is this why fernando was cackling earlier??

mia tate yes, and he also pulled me away from the reporter before he could punch me. hypothetically speaking

max verstappen alright, i'm settling this the only way daniel has taught me

max verstappen added two people

mia tate well you got one thing right, you are motorsports biggest headache.

max verstappen i didn't add you so i could be bullied. i added you so that someone could fucking explain what happened earlier. christian is glaring at me and i had nothing to do with this

lando norris oh she rocked the shit out of that reporter.

alex albon who taught you to punch and can they teach me?

mia tate my ex boyfriend

george russell well that took a turn mia tate AND NOT IN THE WAY YOU GUYS THINK!! I LIVE IN NEW YORK! ONE WRONG MOVE AND THEY'LL MUG ME! abigail tate you idiot.

fernando alonso oh it was great maxie, the reporter said some things i will not be repeating, it went on for ages and mia took it like a champ until finally he asked a really gross question and she punched him. i think abigail almost bit him, or that's what twitter is saying.

fernando alonso being the driver closest to them i stepped in when he looked like he was going to hurt mia and abigail. sebastian vettel, being the great guy he is, called security on the guy before you could show up and go all mad-max on him.

max verstappen i would not have done that.

daniel ricciardo oh my god

lance stroll oh this just made my day so much better.

sebastian vettel lance, not the time lance stroll i feel like i should be honest. they should know the mess they're getting into.

pierre gasly how is this whole thing going to work? like is mia moving to monaco or are the three stooges moving to new york?

charles leclerc she just said we could get mugged! i am not moving to new york

max verstappen what? your pretty face can't take a hit? charles leclerc are you flirting with me? abigail tate how have you two not fucked? matter of fact how has max not fucked daniel or charles? lando norris THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING!! JUST FUCK EACH OTHER AND GET RID OF THE SEXUAL TENSION!

mia tate why would i move to monaco??

daniel ricciardo because that's where we live? you could bring your emotional support mia tate bunch of tax evaders you people are. a french, an aussie, and a dutch, who would've thought? charles leclerc I'M MONEGASQUE!! mia tate TAX EVADER!! charles leclerc I WAS BORN THERE!! MAX AND DANIEL ARE THE TAX EVADERS!! max verstappen AND YOU'RE JUST AN INCHIDENT BITCH!

sebastian vettel can you stop acting like children?

esteban ocon i'm not even religious but i pray for that child's sanity

charles leclerc sorry seb

max verstappen sorry seb

mia tate for the record, i'm not sorry

daniel ricciardo i, for once, did nothing wrong

mick schumacher can i be godfather?

max verstappen you're a child?? how are you supposed to look after another child mia tate but he's so adorable? how can i say no to him?? charles leclerc by saying no?? mick schumacher haters. let me have this one thing

carlos sainz let me be godfather. i'm charles teammate.

daniel ricciardo we are not having this conversation right now. max has been silently plotting how to murder a reporter. can everyone please focus?

max verstappen yes, like what was his name?

sebastian vettel NO MURDER!

mia tate wow, you really are a dad.

sebastian vettel someone has to be the responsible one here and it's not fernando, kimi, or lewis.

kimi raikkonen 👍

kimi raikkonen 🤰🏼?

lewis hamilton yes kimi, the girl is pregnant kimi raikkonen 🦥 🦡 🏎️? lewis hamilton yes, no one knows who that dad is yet. it's either max, daniel, or charles. kimi raikkonen 😂

abigail tate how did you get that from a few emojis?

lando norris max is the sloth because he's sid from ice age

max verstappen fuck you norris

george russell daniel is the badger because people call him honey badger

alex albon and charles is the car because of this

mick schumacher does that make mia, sally?

abigail tate OH MY GOD THIS IS GREAT!

mia tate CODE DAD ABBY! CODE DAD!

lance stroll what the fuck is code dad? is she going into labour?

lando norris don't be ridiculous, she's only a month pregnant. their dad is probably here.

lando norris OH SHIT! EVERYONE RUN FOR COVER!

mia tate don't be so dramatic. he's not an asshole, he never abused us. he just had bigger dreams for us and when we failed to do what he wanted he disowned us.

sebastian vettel that's still not good mia. he left you two when you needed him. you're children.

kimi raikkonen 🤬

esteban ocon even kimi agrees, which is a first

esteban ocon uh oh sebastian has adopted two more kids. mia and abigail, welcome to the family lance stroll he’s only known them 2 hours?? esteban ocon the girl is pregnant because of his former teammate and the mini versions of him. he’s attached lance.

mia tate he was a single dad raising three kids under the age of 8. he tried his best sebastian. it may not have been the best but i turned out alright, jury's still out on abby.

daniel ricciardo do you two need anything? like do you need us to keep him away from you two?

abigail tate we'll be okay danny, besides, i think sebastian and fernando have made it their mission to be our personal bodyguards. like mia said, he was never a bad father, he just made some mistakes.

robert tate why did i just get asked around the paddock if i was excited to be a grandfather? who got someone pregnant or who's pregnant?

abigail tate i forgot we let the idiot name this chat.

marc tate take that fucking back! i am a stressed medical student in his final year of school, let me fucking be.

robert tate AM I GOING TO BE A GRANDFATHER?? YES OR NO??

marc tate do you think i have time to date?? much less sleep around? wasn't me.

abigail tate kids are icky.

robert tate mia?? is it you??

mia tate mia can't come to the phone right now. please leave a message after the beep. love, the war criminal.

marc tate war criminal?? what the hell have you two been up too.

mia tate mia is unavailable - seb

mia tate 🖕- 7️⃣

abigail tate her phone's been hijacked by three world champions.

marc tate YOU GUYS ARE AT SPA??

marc tate THE ONE WEEKEND I CHOSE NOT TO GO WITH DAD??

abigail tate what the fuck happened to 'i'm a medical student, i have no life?'

marc tate school does not matter when it comes to f1.

mia tate DAD! I FUCKED UP! I WENT TO GREECE, SLEPT WITH A FEW PEOPLE AND NOW I'M PREGNANT! - MIA

mia tate SHE'S LYING - WAR CRIMINAL

robert tate abby?

abigail tate oh, she's not lying. CONGRATS YOU'RE GOING TO BE A GRANDFATHER!!

marc tate oh my god she's the girl that f1 twitter is losing it's mind over?

abigail tate congrats your grandchild is either half honey badger, half mad-max, or half il predestinato. we're not quite sure who the dad is.

marc tate HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM MIA!!

robert tate abby, is she okay? our problems aside, for once, how is she?

abigail tate she's fine or at least as well as anyone who is faced with this current situation is. ignoring the sexist and misogynistic comments people seem to throw at her. she punched a reporter today, i almost bit his ankles (in theory).

robert tate can we talk? all three of us?

mia tate if you want to talk to mia, you're going to have to apologize for your actions and choices against her and abby. - seb

mia tate MAN UP AND APOLOGIZE TO YOUR DAUGHTERS! - WAR CRIMINAL

mia tate mia will talk to you but i will be present. there is no excuse for what you did to your children. - seb

abigail tate so that's why they call him paddock dad

mia tate heyyyy - charles

mia tate pleasure to meet you two! hi abby! - daniel

mia tate why does charles get to be called il predestinato but i get stuck with mad max? it's not fair! - max

mia tate i swear to god if one more driver steals my phone i will be committing crimes against them.

robert tate okay. i made choices i'm not proud of and i will take responsibility for my actions. i have been going to therapy now. i can see where i made mistakes.

mia tate wow. it's almost like mom leaving didn't just affect us and it affected you too. WHICH IS WHAT I'VE BEEN FUCKING SAYING FOR YEARS!

marc tate oh that she has been saying. therapist also said that dad was afraid of you and abby leaving so he pushed you two away. it's not an excuse btw, that's what dad's told me. look at that maybe we should all go to therapy.

abigail tate maybe max can join us!

mia tate fuck you - max

abigail tate wow is that any way to talk to your sister-in-law verstappen??

mia tate MIA'S MOVING TO MONACO! - CHARLES

robert tate what the fuck?

mia tate I HAVEN'T EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT IT! THE ANSWER IS NO!

mia tate FOR NOW! - CHARLES

marc tate well, this family has a lot of issues to solve.

taglist: @six-call @barcelonaloverf1life @janeholt3 @queen-aria-things @camdensreg @mycenterfold @woozarts @vellicora @nichmeddar @thisismereading @inloveallthetime @baw-sixteen @floxly @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @ilove-tswizzle

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! listen i needed someone who was a motorsports fan and had played a doctor and i could only think of one person, patrick dempsey. (i've never seen an episode of grey's anatomy in my life) i was also going to make him an asshole but i do that too much, so i gave him a redemption (sort of). is it a redemption? i also know nothing about therapy because i've never gone, feel free to correct me if i get anything wrong in that aspect.

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

#leclerc-s #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #formula 1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #mamma mia series #fanfic #fanfiction #daniel ricciardo x female oc #max verstappen x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #f1 x mamma mia crossover

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eliounora · 1 year

Photo

miles as a defense lawyer AU!?

#REPOST the colours were all over the place #wrightworth #narumitsu #ace attorney #my art #point me to the nearest fic of this AU #i'm thinking nick and miles got slightly estranged when miles went to law school #but they become closer friends again when mia and miles defend phoenix in court!!!

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ticklygiggles · 2 months

Text

A bored King and a poor ticklish servant | Mobei-Jun x Shang Qinghua

A/N: A little gift for a very dear friend's birthday! I hope this fics reaches you! Happy birthday! 🎂 This is a fandom I haber never written for, and it's been sooo long since I read the novel, but I hope you enjoy it! We miss you! ❤️

Summary: What's a servant use but entertain his King? At what extend though?

This is not N$FW but there are mild mentions of things

“M-My King,” Shang Qinghua stuttered, shifting his position for the umpteenth time and groaning when he was forced back in place by a cold, firm hand on his hip. “My King… I've been sitting here for a while now, and with all due respect, you're not the most comfortable piece of furniture out there and something has been poking at me, maybe we could please move-

“Shut it,” Mobei-Jun said against his ear and Shang Qinghua shivered, feeling the freezing breathing swirling into his ear canal. “I am working.”

“That I can see, My King,” he answered, his head nodding softly as he eyed the bunch of reports scattered across the desk. At first, he was willing to help Mobei-Jun, but when the Clan Leader simply sat him down onto his lap, silently ordering him to stay put.

Shang Qinghua didn't put up a fight, after all it was useless, and it wasn't like he hated being there… but it had been ages. His butt was hurting and the blush spread across his cheeks everytime he moved and felt Mobei-Jun’s… ahem... He was a very gifted man, that was all he could say.

There was nothing left but to resign himself, so letting out a long sigh, he leaned against Mobei-Jun's strong and muscular chest. It really was like leaning against a wall, but a little softer, just a little, but he was happy. No matter how much he looked at him, Mobei-Jun was definitely his best creation. A beautiful and handsome face chiseled in cold marble. A body that made his mouth water every time they were intimate. He has always been his favorite character and his ideal person, so being in his arms like that, well, maybe he was thankful that he accidentally electrocuted himself to death.

Now they were even husbands! Destiny does have a million things prepared that one would not even-

“Haah! My King!” Shang Qinghua gasped heavily, squirming in Mobei-Jun's lap. “M-My K-King! We've talked about this before! You need to warn me before touching my bare skin with your hands! You are always so c-cohohold ahahand- ahahahaha!”

Sudden, embarrassing giggles sputtered out as he felt a soft squeeze on his left side. Shang Qinghua squirmed, but Mobei-Jun's hand was latched to him. He didn't noticed until it was too late, one of Mobei-Jun’s had slipped one hand under his clothes and was now tickling him silly.

“My Kihihing! Oh! Yohohou knohohow I'm teheherribly tihihihicklish! Y-You cahahahannot–

“I said I'm working.”

“Ihihi apohohilogihihize profuhuhusely, b-but yohohou reheheally- ahahahack, my Kihihing plehehehease!”

This was terrible. Shang Qinghua never thought that Mobei-Jun would be so attracted to tickling him after two nights ago he discovered that Shang Qinghua's body was horribly sensitive to gentle, playful touches. Since that day, there wasn't a moment where Shang Qinghua wasn't laughing like an idiot if he was within a meter of Mobei-Jun's reach. He was grateful that at least Mobei-Jun kept his little games to himself when the two of them were alone, but still! His laugh sounded so silly and embarrassing. If Shang Qinghua could, his head would be buried inside the earth like an ostrich.

Erratic and silly giggles filled the studio as one of Mobei-Jun's icy hands squeezed Shang Qinghua's side, skittered his fingers against his ribs, clawed at his tummy, pinched at his hip and also wiggled his fingers under his arm. His hand was so fast that Shang Qinghua didn't even try to stop him and simply wriggled like a fish out of water while laughing his head off.

“Plehehehease, my Kihihing!” He begged again, feeling tears in his eyes as Mobei-Jun decided to settle under his arm, his whole body leaning to the opposite side. “Thihihis pohohoor sehehervahahant cahahan't tahake thihihis anymohohore! I'm vehehery tihihicklish thehehere!”

Mobei-Jun simply hummed, but no matter what he said, he seemed deaf to his words. Shang Qinghua’s clothes were in disarray, his tunic open and falling off one of his shoulders. His face was definitely red and his laugh- no, he didn't even want to talk about it.

Also... why was Mobei-Jun tickling him right at that moment?! Hadn't he said that he was busy with the silly reports of him? Ah, he probably had grown bored, right? And instead of giving Shang Qinghua a sweet, heated kiss, he decided to torment him with his biggest weakness. How was that fair?

“I need you to stop moving right now,” Mobei-Jun said, but his fingers kept wiggling under Shang Qinghua's arm, driving him up the wall.

Shang Qinghua shook his head. “I cahahan't! I cahahahannohot! It tickles so bahahahd!”

Mobei-Jun growled and Shang Qinghua squealed when he was suddenly manhandled into the wooden floor. Mobei-Jun straddled him as he gathered both Shang Qinghua's wrists in one of his hands. Shang Qinghua opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but only laughter came out.

“NOHOHO, PLEHEHEASE!” He shrieked as Mobei-Jun used his free hand to wreak havoc in both his armpits. Shang Qinghua was in hysterics in just two seconds; he cackled and kicked, squirmed and pulled at his arms, but they barely flinched in Mobei-Jun’s grasp. “MY KIHIHING! I'm gohohonna dihihie!”

Above him Mobei-Jun was smiling faintly, tender eyes tracing Shang Qinghua's features. Shang Qinghua was simply dying, laughing and jumping every time Mobei-Jun jumped from one underarm to the other.

“HAHAVE MEHEHERCY PLEHEHEASE!” Tears of laughter clinged to his lashes and rolled down the sides of his face. He was definitely going to die again. And by tickling this time! Would his third death be also embarrassingly pathetic too? What a disgrace, he-

“Ohohoho, gohohoodnehehess, thahahank you!” He said breathlessly as the tickling stopped. He went limp as his arms were released and gently moved down. “M-My Kihing,” he chuckled softly as Mobei-Jun gently touched his cheek. Shang Qinghua leaned against the cold hand. “If yohou w-wanted my attention so much, you c-could have a-asked.”

Mobei-Jun’s face remained neutral as he looked down at his husband, but Shang Qinghua had learned to read his expression and he clearly saw he was sulking. Shang Qinghua smiled, oh that was adorable.

“Let this servant help you relax for a while, My King,” he said, wrapping his arms around Mobei-Jun's neck and bringing him closer to his face for a kiss. “This servant knows exactly what his King needs, leave everything to me- w-wahait! Watch your hands, please, if you tickle me I- ahahaha!”

Ah, so he was feeling playful, huh? Well… it was alright, Shang Qinghua thought he could probably stand another tickle attack if Mobei-Jun wanted to torture him so much. It was the last thing he could do after being blessed with his perfect side character!

#scum villian self saving system #scumbag system #scumbag self saving system #mobei jun #mobei-jun #shang qinghua #moshang #mobei jun x Shang Qinghua #ticklish!Shang Qinghua #tickle fic #mia's things #mia's fics

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