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everythingne · 7 months

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out of the woods, 5 (ls2)

With clear favoritism boosting all of Ferrari's tactics, Dhanishka makes a difficult decision after a crash causes her to see the true colors of her team. Logan sweeps in to save the day.

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warnings/notes: mistreatment of Dhanishka by Ferrari, car accidents with very minor injuries, this chapter was originally twice the length.... i had to cut half of it for next chapter LMAO, wrote this instead of doing my finals !

(ch4) (ch6)

The little room they've shoved us all into for media is more crowded than I want it to be. The Chinese GP was off to a rocky start already, with downpour rains all day on Thursday. I'm looking for Charles, turned in on myself even in the room full of flashing lights as I try to hide from the world. I want nothing to do with media. I know its going to be a shit show, and my stomach churns and knots until I make eye contact with Logan across the room. A weird wave of calm hits me, before its also sprinkled with anixety.

We haven't spoke since he kicked me out.

I swallow my pride and smile at him, and though I note his smile isn't full, he does still return one. I can tell he senses my apprehension as he nods, and he excuses himself from Oscar and Alex's sides to cross the small, cramped room. I manage to slip through a wall of reporters surrounding Max, nearly being shoved aside before I'm grabbed and pulled and into the firm protective hold of Logan. Instinctively, his arm wraps tight around my waist as he brings me to his chest. My hands find his shoulders and slide across in a hug as he leans his head down to whisper,

"You look terrified, Isa." His hand squeezes my waist and leaves the skin tingly, as if he's shocked it with little electrodes hidden in his finger tips. All his lingering touches feel like that, they have since I was seventeen.

"I am." I say back to him as I pull back from the hug just enough for us to look at eachother, "It's first media day after we announced this whole... thing."

Logan nods and then sighs, bringing the hand thats not still clutching my waist up to comb through his hair, "This is probably the worst possible time to bring that up, but I'm sorry for just..."

He trails off and before he can finish, I shake my head softly and give him the tiniest reassuring smile I can muster. He quiets at the soft expression on my face as I bring one hand down from his shoulders to pat his forearm, before squeezing it as I speak,

"No, Logan. I should've told you from the beginning what I wanted. It was wrong of me to string you along like that," and I hesitate before adding, "I don't regret it, if you're scared about that, too."

He seems taken aback by my apology, but before we can say more, we're split apart by media duties. I try to turn back to say something when he grabs my wrist to pull me back to him and from Charles, who turns back with a confused look. Even I'm confused, before I'm laughing as Logan's planting a goodbye kiss on my cheek with a softy murmur of 'keeping up the look.' And no matter how hard I try, I can't find a logical defense for my blush.

So of course, Charles teases me about it, which is caught on nearly every camera in our direction as we're brought to the little media pen this time. Luckily out of the grabbing range of asshole reporters and the people who want a headline.

And the first reporter for me is luckily The Ophelia Piastri.

"Danny..!" She sings, handing me a microphone labeled 'VOGUE' as she steps in, ever so elegantly, next to me.

"Hi, Ophie." I smile, leaning in to give her a tight hug. Luckily during media I didn't have to wear my team uniform, so I had been dressed to the nines in the white and red Ferrari dress-jacket-thing, with the little cape thing on the back. I knew I looked good, which is why I assumed Ophelia had grabbed me before she went off to find Lewis.

"Since we last spoke, quite a bit has happened, but lets talk about this outfit?"

"So, this is Ferrari, of course. I cannot remember the name of the jacket for the life of me. It's a white leather trench coat with a red silk trim, Ferrari's black boots with, of course, the red trim, and a black Ferrari purse. I am completely Ferrari today."

"You look stunning, the red of the Ferrari suits has always looked good on your but this pop? Stunning, brilliant, we love to see it."

Her interview is a bit longer than I'm expecting, mostly because we keep getting off track, and then I'm pulled away and into the mass of the boring, normal interviews.

It's Sky News who comes to be annoying, some reporter I don’t recognize. I glance over to Logan, who is on my left side down a bit in the media pen and find him staring. He looks away quickly and I bite back a laugh as Charles knocks my shoulder with his to keep me paying attention. I miss the reporter introducing himself but don’t miss the way Charles tightens his grip on my wrist.

“Any specific reason you were spotted in London last weekend?” The man asks me, holding the microphone towards me and I shrug with a tiny smile.

“Just making some visits to my friends, is all. I also had some media responsibilities.” I reply calmly and catch Logan’s eye again, this time my look lingers long enough to see him try to mouth something to me before the reporter talking pulls me away again.

“A certain driver seems to have caught your eye, though, are we correct to assume there’s some heat between you and a certain Williams driver?” The man smiles almost predatory and Charles taps the back of my arm to signal me to move back as he eyes the reporter with a confused look. As I fall back, I let a soft laugh tumble out of my lips as I realize it’s fucking Anthony Davis and that’s why both Logan and Charles have stopped to watch.

“Thought my instagram post was pretty clear,” I chime once I find my footing and push my emotions back, “if that hallway stuff you released to press as blackmail against Logan to do that interview with you wasn’t already enough.”

Charles is staring like I’ve just cursed this man out, I think I can hear Lando laughing somewhere off to the side.

“We’re done with you, thanks sir, make sure to tell David I said hi.” I grin forcibly, watching as Anthony’s face grows in anger. Charles steps between us, asking Anthony to leave and I allow myself a reprieve here to look around. Logan gives me a little smile and an appreciative nod, which I return, before I’m being pulled away by PR.

Qualifying brings back Ferrari’s curse.

Charles tires go and he nearly crashes out right before the end and my back wing is broken by the time I’m done. With the challenges we faced, we both do qualify higher than expected which does make me feel a bit better.

After standing and talking about the car and strategy for way too long, I’m let loose to the solstice of my drivers room. The pristine and almost shockingly tidy room is a safe haven as most the chaos of this weekend and I allow myself to relax as I slowly get myself undone from the race.

I change and take my hair out of its now frizzy braid, taking the time to brush it as I stick my head under the sink faucet to wet my hair. I’m wringing it out as I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I call, grabbing a towel to place over my shoulders as the door pops open and I’m greeted with the soon to be Norris’ couple.

I gawk, “How did you both get in here?”

“Charles owed me a favor for all the times I’ve snuck him into Red Bull.” Olivia shrugs as she pops her purse down next to me on the couch, “and Lando doesn’t like me walking the paddocks by myself anymore.”

“That fucking reporter.”

“Don’t.” Olivia points at Lando, who huffs, and she then crosses the room to sit next to me on the couch before Lando can snag the seat. Olivia continues to speak after pausing to sip her drink, “good take down of Anthony today, little debutante."

“Ah. Thank you.” I laugh softly, brushing my hair with the same red brush, eyes glancing over to Lando and Olivia as I try to keep my blush to a minimum. Olivia's soft compliment made my heart skip, as any praise did. It was hard to come by it in this sport and I was honestly happy it was Olivia who was supporting me like this.

“How’re you feeling? You did pretty good for a busted car. I saw how fucked that rear wing was when I was pulling in the pits after Q1.” Lando continues the conversation and I shrug, turning at Olivia's cue so she can start to braid my hair for me. It's weirdly like having my mom or sister do it, I hate how much it makes me miss home.

“It sucks I’m not higher. Wallahi, I'm so tired of this." I complain, rolling my eyes back as I try and keep myself calm. Frustration wouldn't get me anywhere here, "they’ve been harping on me all season about getting back to the level I was at in Bahrain. And they're acting as if every race since, I haven’t had terrible car issues! Sorry you guys fucked up my car!"

"Sounds like Ferrari." Olivia hums, "I think I've heard both Charles and Carlos say this same thing over the years."

"Maybe talk to Charles about it, he'd know Ferrari better than I would." Lando suggests, watching his fiance as she finishes off my braid and then squeezes my shoulders and pulling me back to rest on her chest as she lazily wraps her arms around me. Lando kicking his legs up to rest on my lap as he yawns into the back of his hand.

"I have been, he's been a huge help, but it's still ridiculous." I complain, smushed against Olivia's Red Bull tee as I close my eyes to fight off the stress migraine forming. I complain for a bit longer, Olivia convincing me to talk to Charles about my frustrations once again. But by the time I've gone off to find him, I notice his attention being held by Fred and some of the engineers. Even when I try to get him away, he's continuously pulled back with soft sorry's thrown over his red clad shoulders.

I go to bed that night with a migraine. The next day I nearly crash twice when my tires are too worn but they won't box me, and sulk in my drivers room after due to losing my podium position. Sure, I finished a lucky P9 for my car issues... but I was fighting with Max in P2 when my rear tires decided they hated me.

I ask so many times to be boxed. It’s not the first time they refuse to pull me into the pits, but it’s the most dangerous. I have no grip, I have nothing but prayers and maybe a bit of luck because I don’t crash out.

And when Aakash is not supportive over the radio, maybe I lose my cool, and maybe that’s what causes half the garage to give me the cold shoulder as I get out of the car. I do what’s needed, barely speak, don’t smile, and then retreat to my room with the hope of my anger dissipating.

When my frustrations don't wear off, even after I snag the treadmill to sprint until my legs are jello, I go to try and find Charles for our little private post-race debrief. I need him in this moment like a fish needs water, the debriefs we have been having being the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in Ferrari. I spot him in the garage still, but he's being held captive by the team. They engross themselves in deep plans for his racing, smiling and waving hands in excitement. I notice no one had come to grab me and swallow the sick feeling in my gut.

"What about Dhanishka?" Charles asks, eyes flickering over to meet mine and I feel the pull to enter the conversation until Fred shakes his head and squeezes his golden boys shoulder, saying,

"Dhanishka comes second to you, Charles. You are more important than some girl. We'll use her to help you..."

Fred's voice fades out as I swallow hard, my hands shaking immediately in a mix of rage and embarrassment. How could I have been so stupid?

And when Charles snaps his head up to meet my eyes after a moment, I've already turned to rush down the hall. Tears prick in my eyes at my own stupidity, that I felt like I belonged in this red building. Sure, it was something off hand, maybe he didn't mean it the way he said it, but it was enough to frustrate me to tears.

If I cry one more time before the end of May, someone might get strangled.

I retire to my hotel room early that night. Even when all I wanna do it party, I choose not to join anyone in the festivities, and ignore the mass amounts of messages blowing up my phone asking why I'm not at the after party. I ignore the world, let the sun set into black skies as I stay tucked in my bed--still in my fireproofs. I can't bring myself to move, a mix of anxiety in my gut and genuine pain in my body keeping me in the plush blankets. My parents call to congratulate me, I humor them with a tired smile and blame it on the time zones. I pretend I'm asleep when I see Anya tries to call me twice. I can't lie to her.

I have to ignore her so they think I'm doing fine. I can't worry them about me turning into the monster I had been after Trident again. But that monster claws at the restraints and slowly breaks them.

Hours later, not that I would know the time, someone knocks at my door. I ignore it, even as the muffled voices call for me and ask if I'm alright. I just stay still, tucked up to my chin in blankets, until someone scans a card in the door and begins to let themselves in. I jump, preparing to throw my phone in defense, when it's Danny who pops his head in.

"Just checking to see if you're alive, mini-me." He smiles, opening the door a bit more so from my vantage on the bed, I can see Charles and Logan behind him. I know they all see I'm still wearing everything I had on at the track, and I see remorse in Charles' eyes when he sees my state, but I shake it off.

"I have a bad migraine, but I'm alive." I say, choosing for that to be the reason as to why I was laying in the dark. Not because I felt too tired to get up to turn the light on, or that I felt my seventeen year old rage returning.

"Need anything?" Logan asks, feather soft, before the others can. I hate how I can see him noticing all my soft lines turning hard. I just sit there, then I shrug when I realize they're expecting an answer.

"Just some sleep. I'll see you guys next race weekend." I wave them off, yawning into the back of my hand. Logan steps into the door frame, welcoming himself in. I don't argue as he crosses the room to sit on the edge of my bed, pressing his hand to my temple.

"You're not sick." He murmurs, "just a stress migraine this time, then?"

"You--huh?" I blink and Logan smiles party, a soft blush on his cheeks only illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"You always get migraines when you're stressed or when you've got a fever, Isa." He squeezes my wrist, watching my face carefully, "If you don't feel hot when you have a migraine, it's just stress."

“It’s just… it’s been a rough weekend and I kinda snapped after the race ‘cause this migraine won’t go away.” I lie half now, Logan seems to buy it a bit more as he leans forward and gently pulls some of my stray hairs back behind my ears—settling them how he knows I like it.

“You did really well for all the issues you were having. Can’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control, Danny.” Daniel says from the doorway where he and Charles lean, I squint when I look towards them in the light and see while Danny looks full of concern—Charles looks sick.

“I know. It’s just been a hard adjustment.” I shrug and Logan nods.

“Adjustings a bitch.” he says and I laugh. About twenty minutes later they leave, after Charles runs down to grab a Doordash they force me to order. Logan calls me much later, telling me to sleep so I don’t feel like shit tomorrow.

We talk on the phone for so long he ends up sleeping in the same bed as me, arm wrapped loosely around my waist as my head is tucked in the crook of his neck. It’s safe. It’s definitely not platonic, but it’s safe, and it’s what I need.

So far it's been:

Bahrain, P3,

Saudi, P5,

Australia, P8,

Japan, P4,

China, P7,

and now it's Miami, where I land a solid P10 after Carlos clearly attempts to knock me off the track entirely and runs me into the gravel. I have to fight for my way back up from P20. I'm impressed with the run some of the back drivers give me (especially Haas and Alpine) but I'm frustrated in general with my finish.

Because what could've been more is fucked over when Carlos in P9 swings purposefully wide and damages my front wing.

"It's not fair!" I complain to Charles as I pace the length of my tiny drivers room, "I don't know what he has against me!"

"Isa," Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Be proud of what you did accomplish, a wonderful ten place overtake in only seven or so laps! You did amazing tonight, even with that fuck up!"

"You've been podium every race except for Australia when Oscar beat you and Max." I snip, whipping around so hard my braid whacks the side of my face, "What I would do to be able to get up there... its just annoying some drivers have made it their agenda to get me off the track! Carlos has no reason to nearly knock me off the track multiple times today!"

"Carlos is frustrated Ferrari dropped him for you. He'll pretend to be amicable over at Mercedes but he's fucking miserable." Charles sighs, "Ferrari's been no help either, they've yet to pay him the rest of his contract."

"Well how is that my fault, Charles!" I ask, groaning softly as I bury my head in my hands and come to sit next to him. It's not like I had told Ferrari to pick me, it had been a huge surprise they had. Charles has no answer and I just huff and lean back into the couch's plush surface and hide my face.

"I'm miserable too." I complain into the air, and it's frustrating to admit it. Charles can tell I don't wanna talk about it, so he just pulls me to his side and lets me curl up there. I feel like a child, but I feel safe.

—

Miami proves to be more difficult than I expected.

I had qualified really well, starting in P4 with Max, Charles, and Lando ahead of me. I was holding my own during the race, but Ferrari wasn't clearing me to pass Charles to try and take P2. Which is honestly the least of my worries right now. Aakash has been non-exsistant on the radio today, barely answering as per usual. I was basically using my own strategy at this point, pulling off of tips I had been given by Charles for this track.

And everything is surprisingly going well.

“Woah!” I shout, turning clear of whoever is in the Alpine that’s stuck half off the gravel, I make some sort of contact but not enough to deter me, “Alpine is down on the track, hit him, I think front damage? Rear wing is still locked in DRS.”

“Understood. Possible red flag coming up, use these last seconds to try and secure position.” Aakash says into my headset and I reply back with a soft ‘copy’ as I go to turn normally but for some reason I find that I whip to the side—under steering hard. Luckily, by pure coincidence, it keeps Oscar behind me and secures a place in P3 behind Charles. But the car isn’t driveable in this state, extremely dangerous, and my hands shake as I struggle to press down my radio button while holding the wheel steady.

“My steering is going out!” I curse, trying to stabilize myself—waiting for a red flag or a safety or something. Where the fuck is this safety car for the crash?

“How bad is it?” Aakash asks and I grit my teeth as I pull into the next turn. I curse softly, breaking a bit harder than I need to but managing somehow to keep Oscar behind me. I think he knows to stay back, that something is clearly wrong,

“Terrible, terrible! I can’t fight like this!” I snap, groaning as we move now to a straightaway. Oscar comes to my left and I steer towards, Aakash is calling that the flag is flying and the safety car has been deployed, but my eyes are on Oscar as he tries to maneuver around the other side but I cut him off again—or try to.

I steer too hard, clipping the front of Oscar’s tire on the slick of the still drying Florida rain and spinning out. I feel the gravel as the car spins and then the world rocks when I hit the wall. I can't breathe for a moment, breath caught in my chest as I grip my seatbelts. No one calls over the radio for a moment, and then,

"Dhanishka, is the car okay?"

"Fuck you." Is my reply as I grab my restraints and slowly unclick them. It's agony to move as I take out my steering wheel and pop it on the top of the car, hoisting myself up and nearly buckling back down into the car in pure pain. I manage to get myself out by the time medics arrive, they take me to medical to get checked and it's like I'm not even worried about. No one from Ferrari comes to check on me.

I limp myself back to the paddock, guarded by McLaren employees and followed closely by Lando and Olivia--who is softly scolding the FIA in her phone. Her voice thick in frustration over Ferrari's dismissal of me, her hand on my lower back supporting me as I walk. Once they get me back to Ferrari, Olivia forces her way in to escort me to my drivers room.

And my migraine flares when Aakash knocks, entering my room. He's still got his headphones on, and I bite back about thirty insults as he crosses his arms.

"Feel better?"

"No." I huff, "and your precious car is fine."

"Listen, we're pushing you because we need you to be a better driver." The mechanic looks at me, arms taught over his chest and I wish it was still Ami in charge of my comms.

"I don't understand what you want from me!" I shout in frustration, my hand itching to throw my helmet across the room at him. I’m not violent, I never have been, I don’t understand why I’m so short of breath. It feels like the rage in my belly fights to be fed by all the oxygen in my lungs, my hands shaking as he slam my helmet down and punch the plush surface of my bedding.

“Dhanishka—“ Aakash tries and I whip around, pointing at him and watching his face fill with shock as I finally snap under the pressure of the weekend.

“No, listen to me! [You all love Charles, treat him like your golden child! He coughs and you all run to get medicine, but when I am out there and I am struggling and nearly dying, you do nothing! I fought with a broken wing and a fucked up steering wheel and what help did I get?!]” I snap at him in my mother tongue, watching his face fill with something like horror as I step even closer, “[None of you were there for me! You all went to coddle poor Charlie—he was fine! I was the one who suffered for you! Where is my help? You have all done this the whole season!]”

“[Charles was frustrated—]”

I cut Aakash off, screaming, “[And I nearly killed myself out there because none of you would help! Do you think I wasn’t also frustrated?!]”

“Listen, I—“

“Get the fuck out of my room! I’m not doing media! I’m going the fuck back to my hotel.” I snap and Aakash listens, quickly ducking out of the room. I rip off my suit and throw it in my bag and I get changed into my street clothing, only pausing to touch up my makeup. I pass by Charles coming back from podium with a cold shoulder and shove through the crowd to my car, digging out my keys and getting in. I sit there, hands tight on the wheel for a while, and my fingers start to go numb as I feel like my brain is shutting off and going into autopilot.

I just sit back and watch, like a movie goer, as the world around me fades in my mind.

I come back to my senses sharply, knees digging into the tile as I’m sitting on the floor in the bathroom. I can feel the remenants of a panic attack shaking off my limbs, leaving them staticky. My hands shaking at the slamming at the door to my hotel room.

“Isa!”

There’s only one man who calls me that.

I try to shout that I’m gonna let him in but the words are caught in my throat, and I hear him echo and think I’m going crazy as I whine into the bathroom air. Then I realize I’m clutching my phone tight enough to shatter the screen and Logan’s contact is up—blazing bright into my face.

“Lo…?” I wheeze and I hear him pause mid knock before he shuffles and—

“Isa?” He crackles into the phone screen and I nearly sob at the familiarity of his voice.

“I-Give me a second. I’m coming to the door.” I whisper, slowly raising to my feet and stumbling out into the hall as my senses fight to try and come back to me in full. My hands are numb when I un-deadbolt the door and I barely have enough time to step back after I pop the door open. In a flash, Logan is everything around me, tucking me against his chest, his hand carding through my hair, kicking the door shut behind us and sighing softly.

“Oh, Isa—“ He murmurs into my hair and I feel the numbness snap away in favor of tears as I bury into his grasp and sob. I have cried more since starting F1 than I have in my entire life.

“Oh, Isa, I’m so sorry they’ve turned you into me.” Logan presses his hands to either side of my face, lifting me back so I can look at him. I remember how a week ago I was afraid of loving him, how I was terrified I'd lose him, and yet here he was as stubborn and comforting as always.

"I can't do this Logan." I hiccup, letting him bring me into his arms once more, kisses trailing my forehead as he keeps me locked in tight, "I can't take another day of this comparing bullshit! They hate me, all of them in Ferrari. I don't even know if I still have Charles."

"Charles aactually spoke to me this morning about getting you out of Ferrari." Logan murmurs into my hair and I step back, wiping my face as I blink at him.

"What?"

"Ferrari is using you as a way to push Charles up and he hates it. He was seeing who is staying in what teams for next season. Alex might be moving, Williams might have an open seat, and I might've helped to convince them to write 'Dubey' on it." Logan wipes some tears I missed and smiles, kissing my forehead again and I lean into every soft touch of his, "Obviously, they still need to talk to you, but I can set up that meeting if you need help with that."

When I don't reply with words, but rather the quick press of my red lips to his, his eyes widen in shock and a giggle erupts from the back of my throat.

"Have I ever told you that you're amazing?" I whisper, watching blush peek on his cheeks as he wipes a few more tears from my splotchy face and grins.

"A few times, but I don't mind hearing it over and over again.” he grins.

f1 made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, anyadubey, logansargeant, and 697k others...

f1: hours after it was announced that @ scuderiaferrari is being investigated for mistreatment of @ dhanishkadubey, Dubey announced her departure from the team in the next season, citing 'differing opinions' as the reason for the split.

dhanishkadubey: love u tifosi thank u for an incredible rookie year so far <3

logansargeant: 👀

user1: run girl run

user2: that didn't take long.

charlesleclerc: je te souhaite le meilleur pour ton avenir, petite étoile xx

user3: WAIT?? IS SHE CONTRACTED FOR 2025 BC IT DOESNT SAY SHES LEAVING ENTIRELY??

user4: WHO IS TAKING MY POOKIE.

taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #nicole wrote this

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lemonzestywrites · 5 months

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fuck it friday

tagged by the wonderful @eddiebabygirldiaz and @devirnis

so hi not dead!! and yes im still writing! work has been very stressful lately so i haven't gotten much of a change to get much done but thankfully i am back to a bit more of a normalish schedule!

thank you all for being patient with me! i seriously really appreciate it!!

anyways heres a little snippet from ch4 (which is turning out longer than i had thought) to make up for it.

(nsfw under the cut!!)

A small huff of laughter falls from his lips. “It’s always so fun to see you get this eager for this. I’m gonna have such a fun time with you, you know.” If their first scene is any indicator of it, Buck is almost sure of it, honestly. “I bet even if I just circled my fingers right along your hole…all nice and slow, that would be enough to start getting you restless.” Eddie’s breathing picks up, a subtle tell. And honestly, if Buck wasn’t so keenly focused on every sound pouring out of Eddie right now, he absolutely would have missed it otherwise. But thankfully, he doesn’t. He smiles sweetly to himself, determined now to pull as many of those sweet noises out of him. It would definitely be easier in person, but Buck has never been one to turn down a challenge. “Gonna take my sweet time with you, Eds. Really enjoy you. If you thought I had you begging last time, it’ll be nothing compared to having you beg to come around my fingers.” Eddie whines, a sweet noise- one all high-pitched and keen, as if he’s getting lost in the mental image himself. Buck is almost tempted to follow close behind, let himself be tugged in by temptation and those desperate urges that follow. But Buck digs his heels into the ground, determined to hold steady. “...But we haven’t gotten there just yet.” Quite frankly, he deserves a fucking medal for still holding strong after the small eager groan Eddie lets out. Buck smiles, allowing slow growing confidence to tug at the corners of his lips, seeping through the timbre of his voice in that low, soft murmur. “Wanna make sure you’re nice and relaxed for me,” he purrs gently. “Gonna feel you get nice and loose beneath my fingers while I work you open.” “God, Buck,” Eddie mutters, but Buck doesn’t stop. He’s barely even started.

no pressure tagging - @hippolotamus @kitteneddiediaz @jeeyuns

@aroeddiediaz @wildlife4life @shyaudacity

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #zestywrites #afotalwcs

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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months

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Doe Eyes || CH4 - Worth Being Sore Over

See CH1 for warnings! || Chapter list || Masterlist

Thirty days had passed. You marked each day in a little notebook, and wrote down a song title for each day. Aside from Beth's occasional singing, you hadn't heard real music in a long time. Music was the thing you missed most from the world before, and you thought it would be a good method to keep music alive. Even if you couldn't hear it, you could remember it. The songs weren't even necessarily songs you likes, just the ones you remembered.

Day 28 - Don't Fear the Reaper ~ Blue Oyster Cult

Day 29 - Nights in White Satin ~ The Moody Blues

Day 30 - 21 Guns ~ Green Day

You guys had a run to make, so you scribbled your entry quickly and got dressed, grabbed a bite, chugged some water, and did a few stretches. You had learned the hard way how sore you could get doing so much labor with no warm up. So, every day you stretched.

The council was wary of you at first. Michonne recognized you from the time the Governor sent you after her with Merle, who you learned some time ago was dead, and she made her concerns known. Brandy stuck up for you, though, reminding them that it was you who hadn't gone after her when you could have. You also reminded them that you were on guard when they broke in to rescue Glenn and Maggie, and you didn't go after them. You asked to prove yourself and you did, taking down seven or eight walkers outside the fence on your own with just a crowbar. It worked, and you got to earn your place. So, when you were called upon to make a run with the group, you didn't protest.

Brandy hated it, though.

"You're really gonna go?" She asked you as you made sure your bag was empty to ensure plenty of space for loot.

"We've been over it." You shrugged. "Every single time, might I add. This is my job. It's how I earn my keep."

"There are so many jobs that need done around here." She argued. "I mean, I'm up to my ears in laundry. Why the hell are there only three of us on laundry duty? There are like a thousand people here!"

"A thousand?" You laughed. "Try again."

"Details aren't the point! Just stay and do a normal job!" She pleaded.

"This is a normal job, Brandy." You told her, stepping past her and exiting your cell.

"No it's not. It's like, betting with your life or something every time you go."

"Come on, stop being such a drama queen. We haven't had a single incident the entire time we've been here." You sighed. When her glare was unrelenting you decided to lay a hand on her arm and offer her a half smile. "Chillax, cowgirl. We're professionals and shit."

She laughed at that and shook her head.

"You better come back in one piece." She scolded.

"Always do!" You chirped as you skipped away before she could protest any further.

----

"Just give it a second." Daryl said after banging on the glass outside the grocery store to lure out some walkers.

"Okay, I think I got it." Zach announced.

"Got what?" Michonne asked, walking up behind him. You raised your eyebrows at him, awaiting his response.

"I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn." He said.

"He's been tryin' to guess for like six weeks." Daryl complained.

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself." Zach defended. "One shot a day."

"Alright, shoot." Daryl sighed.

"Well, the way you are at the prison," Zach began. "You being on the council, you're able to track.. You're helping people but you're still being kind of.." He trailed off for a second, gathering his thoughts. "Surly." He nodded. "Big swing here... Homicide cop."

Michonne started laughing, and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh yourself.

"What's so funny?" Daryl asked defensively.

"Nothing." Michonne shook her head, still smirking. "It makes perfect sense."

"Actually, the man's right." Daryl nodded. "Under cover."

"Come on, really?" Zach asked.

"Yup. I mean, I don't like to talk about it, 'cause it's a lot of heavy shit, you know?"

"Dude, c'mon. Really?" Zach scoffed as Daryl turned his head away and smirked a little. He turned his head back to Zach and gave him a look. One of those 'be fucking for real' type looks. "Okay. I'll just keep guessing, I guess."

"Yeah, you keep doin' that." Daryl nodded.

A walker slammed up against the glass, snarling. You scrunched your nose in disgust at its bloated neck and flaky rotten skin.

"We gonna do this, detective?" Michonne asked sarcastically.

"Let's do it!" Daryl said, strutting toward the entrance.

The group of you cleared the walkers that crowded up inside, hungry for your flesh.

"Alright." Sasha breathed. "We go in, stay in formation for the sweep. After that, you all know what you're supposed to look for. Any questions?"

"Was there any time that you weren't the boss of me?" Tyreese asked.

"You had a few years before I was born." She teased.

You shook your head and smiled at the siblings bantering as you guys filed inside. You pulled your bag off your shoulder and began searching the aisles for hygienic things, like soap, first aid, pads and tampons, diapers, lotions, just whatever. It wasn't long before a loud crash erupted, and you all rushed to find Bob stuck under a shelf of wine. As soon as you all went to help him, walkers started falling through the roof.

"Uh, we should get out of here." Glenn said.

A walker fell down on Glenn but he fought it off and shot it. They just kept coming. You looked around frantically, unsure what the next move was. A walker came up on your side and you whacked it once, then twice, and down it went. Thanks, crowbar, you thought to yourself.

You decided to just keep taking them down, until someone shouted some order into the chaos. You definitely couldn't leave anyone behind. You noticed Daryl and Zach working to get Bob out from under the shelf, so you hurried over to help. When the weight was lifted just enough, Bob slithered out from under it. Unfortunately, so did a walker, and it took a big chunk out of Zach's leg.

You all froze, stunned. Thirty days of good luck, and of course you had to witness the first tragedy in a month. The walkers swarmed him, taking bites from anywhere they could reach, including his face. You gagged at the grotesqueness, but ultimately you all had to go and preserve your own lives. You were teary eyed as you all made your escape.

The ride back was a solemn one. Nobody spoke, and you personally were filled with dread. Who was gonna tell Beth about her boyfriend?

"What about Beth?" You asked, clearing your throat first to break the silence.

"What about her?" Michonne asked.

"Who's gonna tell her? About Zach?"

"Me." Daryl grunted.

----

"His face?" Brandy asked in horror. She shook her head as she passed the wine you snagged back to you after taking a sizeable gulp. You nodded and tilted the bottle back, chugging a few mouthfuls for yourself. You and Brandy shared a cell, partially for space conservation but mostly because Brandy said it would be just like sharing a dorm in college. You wouldn't know, you never made good enough grades for a college.

"Yeah, man. It was sick. I can't get the image out of my head, you know? He was just screaming in agony and we couldn't do anything but run."

"Well, get some rest. We both need it." She sighed. You agreed as you closed the wine and climbed up to your bunk. You didn't get much sleep, though. Your thoughts ran rampant, and you weren't drunk enough to quiet them. You tossed and turned for a while, earning a few complaints from Brandy, but your eyes eventually fluttered shut.

The next morning you woke with a headache. Brandy was still asleep, so you went and found some instant coffee and made yourself some with room temperature water. No sugar, no cream, exactly how you didn't like your coffee, but at least it was caffeine. You were always more of an energy drink person, anyways.

You yawned and took a sip, rubbing your eyes. D Block was always quiet in the mornings. You heard shuffling walking toward you but you didn't look up. You assumed whoever it was, they were just as groggy as you. No need for chitchat. That was, until you heard that familiar guttural hissing. Your head snapped up and your heart dropped.

"Shit!" You shouted. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

You jumped up, dropping your coffee. Quick thinking wasn't always your strong suit. Your first idea was to throw a chair at them -- the two walkers that were headed straight for you, that is -- but of course in a prison they were all bolted to the ground. Your next closest option was a coffee mug, which did no damage when you chucked it at it's head. That was when you realized it was a familiar head, the kid with the glasses that always followed Carl around.

"Shit, man." You breathed. "How'd you die?"

Gunfire and screams followed shortly after. People filed in with guns as chaos ensued, gunning down walkers and being taken down by them. Rick and Daryl rushed in, so did Carol and Glenn, and eventually with their joint efforts the walkers were taken down. Lizzie and Mica's dad was bit, and Carol tended to him. You searched around for Brandy and found her crying on her cot.

"The hell was that?" You asked in disbelief as you plopped down beside her.

"How did they get in?" She cried.

"No clue." You sighed. "If it's not one thing, it's another."

At least I'm awake now, you thought.

----

Patrick died from some kind of flu, that was what started it. Now you were all quarantined to D Block, just in case it spread. How funny was it that a common flu could end a life so quickly. Patrick was fine yesterday, and so was Charlie. It killed fast. You and Brandy decided if you were confined to a cell, you'd finish off the wine and play the uno cards you took from the library.

"Draw four." Brandy gloated triumphantly.

"Asshole." You grumbled, pulling four cards from the deck.

"You know, if I survived all this, just to get taken out by a fucking flu, I'm havin' a personal conference with the big man upstairs when I get there." Brandy said.

"Oh yeah? What makes you think that's where you're going?" You wondered.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" She inquired.

"Didn't you know? All rich people go to hell." You joked. She rolled her eyes.

"You're a real sore loser, you know that?" She said. You glared at her. "Uno." She smirked.

"I'm just sad." You admitted, throwing your cards down. "Thirty good days, and then like ten tragedies within twenty four hours."

"Yeah." She nodded. "That's a loss worth being sore over."

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

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dreamerofasgard · 8 months

Text

Artifacts of Merlin

Chapter Two -

Train rides and Hidden Ties

Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Playlist

Ch 1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4

Warnings: Arguing, teasing, swearing, cuteness

Today was the day, you waited for Hermione at the normal spot on Platform 9¾. This morning you got dressed quickly in a blue blouse and black pelleted skirt, your mother always swore that you dressed as if Ravenclaw was more than just your house but your whole wardrobe. You were more than a half-hour earlier than the past couple of years due to your excitement. Taking a seat with your things and your two animal companions, Lyra your cat, and Hawthorn your owl, you began to go over what you know about the coded book to pass the time. Looking over what you know, it becomes clear that Merlin may have originally written in code to protect what he found from dark wizards.

Given that Morgan le Faye was one of the most powerful witches, a dark one at that, and a part of Authur's court it made the most sense for such caution but the more you looked at the code the more confusing it got. Once you were at Hogwarts you'd have access to all your code and cipher books again but until then you had to work with what you remember. The first thing about any code was to check for repeating words which you found quickly when Draco first presented the tome and journals to you.

Now all you had to do was figure out which words were part of the code and which were filler, you sighed as you looked over the passage you had copied. What words truly didn’t belong and which were the true code yet to be deciphered? As you sat there confused at your notes you didn’t hear the soft footsteps on the tile making their way towards you.

“We aren’t even on the train yet and you are already studying without me,” Hermione dressed in her normal casual clothes said as she set Crookshanks down to play with Lyra before sitting down next to you.

“Studying without you, never” closing your notebook before turning to look at Hermione, “Just a little puzzle Draco gave me to keep my mind extra sharp to beat you at the History of Magic, again,” you said as you hugged your her.

“I doubt Malfoy can help you beat me at anything, but I’ll take your word for it. Since you two are totally not into each other or anything of the sort,” she said as she looked down at the pen Draco got you for last Christmas.

“Hey now look who’s talking. You spent most of the summer at the Weasley’s and all you did other than fight with Ron was think about him,” you said crossing your arms as your cheeks turned red.

“Well he’s just being difficult and an oaf,” Hermione said as she looked down at the floor while blushing “Besides its not like we don’t hang out a lot we are practically glued to each other once Harry is around.” Saying as she looks up at you as another friend starts approaching from behind you as Hermione scowls at them.

“Well I think the three of you need to-AHH” you were cut off as someone tickled your sides from behind as you elbowed them in the stomach hearing them groan.

Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle as she saw Draco Malfoy dressed in an all-black suit hunched over holding his stomach as a ‘punishment’ for sneaking up and tickling you.

“Not funny Granger,” Draco said as he looked at the Gryffindor annoyed before he then Y/n turned around and looked at him, “Merlin’s sake Y/n that hurt.”

“Haven't I told you not to sneak up on me Draco,” you said jokingly as you got up and helped him sit down next to you. “Don’t you remember what happened last time someone did that?”

“I remember. I remember.” He said as he sat down on the small bench with you and Hermione as he leaned his head back groaning in pain.

“Says the one who didn’t learn from it and did it anyway,” Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. It was no secret that Hermione didn’t much care for Draco but in recent years he had become tolerable since she saw firsthand how different he was with you around.

“Last I remember I didn’t scare her, it was that Weasbee and Pottah,” Draco said as he looked over at Hermione with an amused expression, “I remember that I was working with Y/n in potions like always and Weasbee thought it would be a grand idea to try and take her wand while she was adding to the potion but he bumped her and then the potion blew up.” He said chuckling lightly before groaning again as his stomach still hurt.

“Ron bumped into her because Goyle and Crabbe behave like toddlers, you insufferable blonde ferret,” Hermione argued as you rolled your eyes at your two friends fighting like siblings.

"Hey now Harry dared Ron to do it," you tried to say before Hermione took out her frustration on Draco.

“Ferret? Why am I a ferret?” He said while sitting up and looking at both Hermione and Y/n as she shrugged her shoulders just as confused as he was.

"Because you are a spoiled, privileged, know-it-all trickster who up until two years ago was a bully toward me and so many other students," Hermione said as she looked at the blonde shooting daggers.

"And I've apologized for it," Draco said slightly pissed off as he looked from you to Hermione "I know I wasn't exactly the best these past couple of years," Draco said calmly as he looked over at Hermione before looking at you sadly as he knew that you hated the fighting. "I'm trying my best to make up for what I've done."

"I understand that Malfoy, but just because you are taking the right steps doesn't mean everyone will be quick to forgive you," Hermione said calmly while gathering her stuff and cat, "I'll see you later Y/n," she said before walking towards the Weasleys and Harry who just showed up.

"You have to admit Draco," you turn and look at him, "She is right. You kinda did put most of Gryffindor through hell until last year."

"I know I know," he says while looking down at the train station floor. "Thankfully you talked some sense into me before I got worse." He said shifting a bit in his seat remembering how angry you were after the Buckbeck incident. "Though I still don't understand how you tolerate Granger when she gets like that," Draco said as he sat up and looked over at the mostly ginger group as they chatted.

"Because despite how much you two hate each other my life wouldn't be complete without my two amazing and smart best friends," you said smiling at the blonde boy.

"When you put it that way it seems as though your friendship with both of them makes you feel whole, like how mooncalves without the moon hide away during the day. They would be lonely without the light of the moon every night,” said the soft angelic voice of Luna Lovegood as she knelt down to play with Lyra as both Draco and you looked at her dumbfounded.

“Luna you scare me sometimes with how accurate you are,” Y/n said as you smiled at your whimsical friend.

"And how you randomly appear," Draco said under his breath as you nudged him slightly, "I'm just saying."

"You two remind me of these Kneazles I raised over the summer," Luna started as she picked up your cat, "Both searching for some new adventure but coming back together when it gets too hard to go alone," she said mysteriously as she handed Draco the cat before leaving to get her stuff as the Hogwarts Express that just pulled into the station.

"We remind her of what?" Draco turned to you confused as Lyra played with his black tie.

"Apparently cats. But it was maybe, sweet? I don't know anymore" You said smiling a bit as you stood up and began to gather your things. "Come on now ferret boy we got a train to board." turning to him as you loaded up your trolly.

Draco groaned as he stood up and walked with you pushing his trolly as your cat jumped from his shoulder onto your trolly. "Really? I'm not a ferret," he said as he looked down slightly annoyed at the new nickname you made.

"Oh, come on Darco ferrets are smart and brilliant animals. Plus they are some of the cutest mammals out there," you said trying to ignore the blush forming as you nudge him while walking.

Draco blushed slightly as he looked up and smiled at you. "Ferrets are smart and brilliant you say?" he said as he walked with you.

"Indeed my dear Dragon, Hermione may have meant it as an insult but it does suit you," smiling as you parked your trolly by the luggage attendant and put Lyra in her carrier next to Hawthorn.

"Gotta catch up with a few friends," you said as you hugged Draco. "I'll see you and those journals, in a bit okay?"

"Yeah I'll see you soon Y/n," he said as he held you close not knowing that a few friends were watching from inside the train.

Draco POV

After Y/n walked away towards the booth that Hermione was most likely in. Draco just stood there for a minute before going to the booth his friends were in.

"What was that all about?" said Pansy as she was standing arms crossed just inside the hallway of the train.

"Excuse me?" he said confused about what Pansy meant as he tried to walk past her to their normal booth.

"That hug with Y/n. Please tell me you two finally started dating." Pansy said as she continued to block his path while smirking at him.

"No Pansy we didn't," he rolled his eyes, "Now please move I'd like to sit down." Getting more frustrated by the second.

"Well that's a shame, I like how she makes you less grumpy," she said as she stepped out of his way. "And she clearly has-” Before she could continue she was cut off by her boyfriend Blaise Zabini.

“Pansy, let him sit down and relax before you start gossiping, please darling,” Blaise said as Draco finally found his best mate in their normal booth.

“Fine I'll let the 'ferret boy' relax," smirking as she sat down next to Blaise as Draco sighed while sitting down across from the couple.

"You heard that?" Draco questioned as he wasn't angry but more embarrassed than anything else.

"Oh please Dray, I hear everything," Pansy smirked as the train car began to fill up with students from Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

"That's what scares me," said Draco under his breath as he looked out the window and saw all the parents waving at their children from the platform.

Blaise chuckled as he was the only one who heard Draco since Pansy was too busy watching people get onto the train car and carefully eavesdropping on each conversation. Draco's thoughts went to the journals and tome he had you look at. The books were safe in the black messenger bag you got him for Christmas since he put a small protection charm on it just in case someone wanted to take it.

Draco hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation his friends were having until he felt someone sit down next to him. He turned his head slightly and saw Theo Nott had sat down next to him.

“I see that Draco is his normal quiet self. Nothing interesting happened this summer?” Theo asked as he looked over at his friends.

"Well I can tell you one thing that didn't happen this summer," Pansy said smugly while looking at Draco.

"Oooh, do tell Pansy. I'm all ears about what the 'Prince of Slytherin' wasn't able to achieve," Theo jokingly said as he leaned back looking at Pansy.

"Well our dear prince still hasn't confessed his undying love towards his dear childhood friend Y/n this summer," she said dramatically as Blaise rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"He didn't," Theo said pretending to be shocked as he turned toward Draco. "Come on mate it's been a good while now since you've started 'fixing' up your attitude and building up the courage to tell her how you feel, so why haven't you?" he said teasing Draco's new behavior.

"It's complicated," Draco said coldly as he looked at his friends while loosening his tie.

"Bloody Hell Draco, no it isn't," Theo said while throwing his hands up, "You fancy her, ask her out on a date."

"You are ridiculous," Draco said as he stood up, "Move Nott," almost growling as he looked at Theo.

"Fine be in denial," Theo said as he stood up and moved out of the way. "But just know if you don't make a move, someone else will."

Before anyone else could say anything to Draco he was already out of the train car. On his way, he grabbed the bag with the journals and the tome checking to see if anyone tampered with it. Once he was sure nobody messed with it, he continued to where Y/n would meet him.

Normal POV

You'd been staring out the window waiting for Draco to come with the journals for only a few minutes thinking about all the secrets Merlin kept in his journals. To think after all this time, that one of the greatest wizards of all time's journals were at your disposal, let alone with your best friend. You were too lost in thought to hear the compartment door open and close before someone sat down next to you.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco said as he took out the journals and tome before standing up and closing the compartment blinds carefully.

"Nothing that you don't already know," you said happily as you opened the first journal. "How was the Slytherin gang? Pansy still the school gossip?" you questioned as you took out your notebook and pen.

"Still the school gossip it seems," he said as he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before sitting back down next to you, "Blaise is his normal quiet self. Pansy hasn't changed him yet, thankfully," smiling as he watched you began to write some notes.

"I highly doubt that Pansy can change him unless he wanted to though I believe his attitude about blood status has improved since I started helping you understand," looking up from the tome to look Draco in the eyes for a moment before copying down more notes. "Even if it was hard at first."

Draco smiled as he listened to you talk about his friend and how much progress he made since that first day you started 'whipping him into shape'. He'd never admit to anyone except you, his mother, and Blaise how much of an ass he really was two years ago. Theo had made fun of him after he once saw you and Draco practicing with Luna and Neville practicing charms by the Black Lake. Theo complained about how he was hanging out with Looney Lovegood and Loasy Longbottom, for some reason this made Draco mad when he talked about your friends but he didn't understand why.

"Hard yes, but it's easier thanks to you and your endless amount of patience," he said as he looked over at what you were copying down, "Are those star maps?" confused about how you got to star maps.

"I decoded a few of the first lines and they were talking about how 'Casseopia greets the Lion and the Dragon on a cool evening. Once greeted the confusione shall disappear from thy parchment' so I drew up a rough star map to see how the stars would be positioned during the coming months," you said as you explained happily what you found.

"So when do Cassiopeia, Leo, and Draco greet each other in the night sky?" he said awkwardly unsure if this was a big clue or not.

"it seems so but I'll check the star maps in the library to be sure. So how does it feel that your namesake is a part of this riddle my dear dragon?" teasing him a bit as you nudged him playfully.

"Confused yet important," he said as he sat up giving you his smug smirk. "And if it wasn't for me snooping around my family library we wouldn't be on whatever adventure this is." nudging you back as he normally would though it felt a little different.

"Well as much as that is true, you'd be lost without me Draco," smiling as you stood up, "probably best to get changed into my robes before I get lost in the journals"

"I'll stay here till you get back Y/n," smiling as he watched you open the compartment door and close it behind you. He looked over your notes while you were gone trying desperately to read your handwriting when he thought he saw the slightest hint of a heart next to his name.

Taglist: @delaneysart12

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campbyler · 1 year

Note

may i be the first person to offer up a song that i think fits the new chapter? :) (it came on shuffle while i was reading and listening to the playlist) i am OBSESSED with the acswy playlist btw. i love how much i can feel the exact line between the end of ch4 - to the start of ch5 just from swoon and talk too much back to back. everything about the playlist is so articulated!! i haven't even finished reading the chapter yet since i'm a slow reader but i see you guys gush about song contributions for this fic a lot so i figured i'd rush in and give mine :)

ok ONE: sorry about answering this literally two weeks late. i did in fact forget that our inbox is literally overflowing . and TWO: i'm currently on my lunch at work and my phone and headphones died and my coworker is also on lunch so i'm waiting for him to get back so i can beg a charger off him. all this to say that i am listening to this song at my desk w my speaker on 5% and my ear pressed to it. #dedication. and THREE: you're SOOOOO SOO SO RIGHT! "what is it that keeps me from letting you go" if anyone even CARES. thank you sm for this rec!! also EXTRA thank you for noticing the swoon -> talk too much transition because we were so proud of that! the ch05 playlist is my pride and joy and i think maybe my greatest contribution to this fic is the talk too much -> summerboy transition soooo twirls hair thank you! if you've finished reading by now i hope you enjoyed!

#ch05 #this got longer than expected but one thing about me is i will overshare #i'm eating popcorn for lunch if anyone even cares #asks

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wrightingdungeon · 3 months

Text

First Impressions

Chapter two of my Abigail series.

Ch1 / Ch3 / Ch4

Word #: 1251

No Warnings

Sebastian groaned as he lined up his shot, the familiar sounds of the saloon barely registering over his growing irritation. For the past week, he’d heard the same conversation from his family. “Have you met Dante yet?”, “Dante is so nice.”, “You have to see the new farmer.” It was like a broken record, and he was sick of it. His mom had been the first to start gushing about the newcomer.

And as if on cue, Sam had started the same conversation during their game of pool, asking them if they had met him yet. “No, I haven't met them yet. Dad has me locked in the tower practicing my potions right now,” Abigail said, sighing slightly.

“You don't think the red-eye thing is creepy?” Sebastian asked, snorting as he sunk a ball into a pocket. “My eyes go red!” Abigail scoffed, rolling her eyes at Sebastian. “Yeah, but we know you're a witch.” Sebastian leaned on his pool cue, watching Sam try to make his shot.

“Maybe he's a witch?” Sam asked, taking his shot. “He would be a wizard, Sam. Not a witch,” Abigail corrected as she leaned back in her seat.

“Well, he can't be that bad. He brought my mom cauliflower. Wouldn't let her pay for it.” Sam shrugged as he picked up his drink, taking a swig. “He brought her cauliflower?” Abigail repeated, raising an eyebrow. Sam nodded, now ignoring the game of pool. “Yeah, she was really happy. Said he was super polite and all.”

“People can be nice all they want… I just don't think the whole town should lose it over one guy,” Sebastian mumbled into his drink, looking out into the saloon’s main room. The place was bustling with activity, the regular Friday patrons chatting and laughing, but all he could think about was how tired he was of hearing about Dante.

Abigail tapped her fingers on the side table thoughtfully. “I heard he helped Harvey with some heavy lifting at the clinic too. He said he’s surprisingly strong.” Sebastian frowned. “Yeah. Maru told me. So what, he’s nice and strong. Great, cool. What’s next, he can walk on water?”

Sam chuckled, leaning closer to Sebastian. “I don't think that's possible, but he did get a kite out of a tree for Vincent and Jaz.” Sebastian groaned louder. “Of course he did. This guy sounds like he’s straight out of a fucking fairy tale.”

“Maybe he is,” Abigail said with a mischievous smile. “Maybe it's like Ella Enchanted.” Sebastian wasn’t amused by the current teasing, causing him to roll his eyes. “Or maybe everyone’s just seeing what he wants them to see,”

Just then, the saloon bell chimed, Dante walking in. “Hey! Speak of the devil, there he is,” Sam said, pointing at Dante with his glass. Something about Sam's words, even though they were just a joke, set off something in Sebastian's head, like a sign. He watched as Dante made his way to the bar, his presence drawing attention.

“That's the new farmer?” Abigail asked, looking at Dante with curiosity.

“Yep, shocked me as well. Never thought I would see someone bigger than Elliott.” Sam joked, shaking his head.

Sebastian stared at Dante, feeling a mix of curiosity and irritation. What was so special about this guy? He watched Dante exchange a few words with Gus before glancing around the room. Their eyes met for a brief moment, Sebastian quickly looked away, focusing on the game again.

"Maybe we should just give him a chance," Abigail suggested, her tone softer. "He might surprise us."

Sebastian sighed, lining up his next shot. "Doubt it."

Despite Sebastian's obvious disdain for the new addition to the town, Abigail waved Dante over, her smile warm and inviting. “Hey, Dante! Come join us for a bit.”

Sebastian inwardly groaned but plastered on a neutral expression as Dante approached. “So, you’re the famous new farmer everyone’s talking about,” Abigail said, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“I guess so. Not used to my name spreading so fast,” Dante laughed as he joined Abigail on the couch. “I’ve heard a bit about you as well.”

“Oh? Mostly good things, I hope,” Abigail said with a grin, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks as she scooted over to make room for Dante.

“All good,” Dante assured her, a fleeting flash in his eyes making Sebastian narrow his gaze slightly.

“Welcome to Pelican Town,” Sam said, raising his drink in a mock toast. “So, what made you decide to move here?”

Dante leaned back, relaxing into the conversation. “Oh, you know… Just needed a change of pace. Life was getting way too hectic, wanted to reconnect with nature.”

Sebastian watched Dante closely, searching for any sign of insincerity. There was something off about his answers, they sounded rehearsed, it was setting off alarm bells in Sebastian’s mind.

“Have you always been into farming?” Abigail asked, genuinely curious. “Not really,” Dante admitted. “I did some gardening with my dad when I was younger, but this is my first real experience with it. It’s been a learning curve.”

Sam nodded leaning on the pool table. “That’s cool, man. It takes guts to just pick up and start something new. Learned that with my board.”

“Thanks. I’ve had a lot of help from the community, though. People here really are nice, maybe a little too nice.” Dante smiled with a chuckle, his joke making Abigail and Sam laugh.

Walking home later that night, Sebastian listened to Abigail and Sam laugh as he smoked a cigarette. The cool night air was filled with their playful banter, a stark contrast to the unease that had settled in his mind.

“Did you see his face when you bit that amethyst?!” Sam threw his head back, letting his laughter scream into the night air.

“Oh shut up!” Abigail whined, shoving Sam. “He thinks I'm weird now!” She chuckled slightly, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

“Since when do you care if people think you're weird?” Sebastian asked as he flicked ash to the ground, blowing out smoke.

“N-No reason.” She stuttered quickly, looking away trying to act normal.

“Oooh, Abby's got a crush,” Sam teased, poking her. “Shut up, no.” Abigail warned, slapping Sam's fingers away. “She’s got a crush, Bastian!” Sam squealed, starting to run away from Abigail, who gave chase. “No, I don’t!”

Sebastian watched them run around, yelling at each other as he took another draw off his cigarette, amused by his friends but still preoccupied by the alarm bells ringing in his head.

Something about Dante's earlier conversation lingered in his mind, nagging at him. It was more than just the words; it was the way Dante had said them. Too smooth, too rehearsed. The way Dante’s eyes had darted away, just for a split second when he was questioned. It was subtle, but Sebastian had seen it.

Abigail’s laughter brought him back to the present. She had finally caught Sam, pinning him to the ground in a wrestling match. “Say it again and I’ll make you eat an amethyst!” she threatened, her voice light with mock seriousness.

Sam laughed, pretending to struggle under Abigail's grasp. He looked up at Sebastian with exaggerated pleading eyes. “Sebastian, dude, save me!”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “You got yourself into this mess, buddy. You'll have to fend for yourself.”

#stardew #sdv #stardew valley #sdv abigail #sdv farmer #sdv oc #sdv ocs #Stardew valley series #fanfiction #sdv fanfic #sdv abigail x reader #oc #stardew valley abigail #farmer x abigail #abigail x farmer #sdv sebastian #sdv sam

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measurelessdreamer · 1 month

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Do you have a scene you really liked but weren't able to fit it in a fic? Would you care to share? Do you have a most recent favorite line or scene? What is it?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

I'm one of the writers who start up tons of stories at the same time and never finish any of them, so, more than scenes I weren't able to fit, what saddens me is that some of my stories had really nice moments in them, that were actually written, but because I could never finish the fic or even finish some part of it that could be shared with other people, they sort of just stay in my docs, haunting me. There are two post-mountain break-up geraskier fics I was writing a long time ago that I feel particularly sorry I never continued. Neither was very long (one had 8k and the other only over 3k words), but I really liked the premise of both and I wanted them to become real stories, but they were both building up to be long fics and I had other stuff to write at the time as well and by now I haven't even looked at them for two years. The longer fic saddens me more and I still like to think that I haven't completely abandoned it, but the hope is minuscule these days.

With scenes that I had in mind at some point and I didn't manage to put them in... usually, I just like the alternative which turns into the final product much more and so I don't mourn them so much. I don't think if I can think of a single example right now, which, considering what I wrote in the previous paragraph, is kind of a relief haha.

As for recent lines, well, I have been having a bit of a hard time writing lately, so they are not recent per se, but they are the most recent ones I actually like? If it makes sense? They are more like passages, though, so that's why they are a bit longer:

(unpublished) Ch4 of my royjamie amnesia fic:

“Fine, let me rephrase that. I want you to tag along.” Jamie snorted and his eyes glowed with mischief. “Wouldn’t say no to helping an invalid. My mum raised me better than that.” “Oi!” Roy said, far more loudly than the non-existent distance between them warranted. “Fuck, man,” Jamie said after a grimace and Roy laughed and Jamie shook his head and kissed him, not stopping for a peck or a breath of air. He licked his way straight to Roy’s brain and Roy felt him absolutely everywhere and nowhere at once. Never in his life had he imagined that kissing Jamie Tartt could feel like this and that he would ever get to feel it. His hands tightened around where he was holding onto Jamie’s hoodie as he felt them go forward. He had no idea whether he was pulling or Jamie was leaning forward of his own accord but now he was lying on the grass and Jamie’s hands were on his waist and none of it rang any bell, but it still rang true. So much so that he’d almost forgotten where they were in the first place.

The (also unpublished) continuation of my Éomer/Faramir post ROTK fic:

Because he needed the solitude, needed to feel the cold air on his face instead of the warmth of the hall that felt almost scorching when it had Faramir orbiting inside and saying all the things Éomer had heard numerous times and still had no intention to heed. But were this the only hardship he’d had to face, he wouldn’t have lost his nerve. He hadn’t lost it with Elfhelm even though he had to face Elfhelm's opinions on this matter almost daily, and he hadn’t lost it once when Aragorn kept insisting that the Mark had only to call for aid and Gondor would answer. His blood wouldn’t boil the way it did now, and his instincts wouldn’t be so akin to fleeing.

They are both pretty out of context, but I really like them and I really hope they get to stay in my final versions of these stories. Otherwise, they would be the ones, I would actually mourn lol.

Thank you so much for the ask! I wish you an amazing day!

#ask box #answered asks #ask me anything #geraskier #royjamie #faramer #éomir #I never know which tag is better for them #I'm always happy to talk about my unfinished projects despite the haunting part

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weekend-whip · 10 months

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find a word

i got tagged by @lightning-chicken to find the words snap, blue, echo and flicker in my fics/wips! Yessss I love this game ahaha thank u Key!! (I only have two active wips atm tho so don't expect too much variety ahaha)

i'd tag some people but I'm drawing a blank on people who haven't been tagged, soooo if you're a fic writer out there feeling eager here's four words for ya: dance, horror, flood, and opposite!

snap- In the Company of the Stars (ch4, unpublished)

“…he was so genuine, Jay. I know that seems stupid, but, you didn't have the chance to talk to him…I, man, you should’ve seen him! He moved like magic, had such a gentle way with words, was silly, sweet, a little shy, but...still wasn't afraid to tell me and show me just what he thought about me." Jay shakes his head. “Cole—" “I know how it sounds! But I’ve spent years dealing with people proclaiming how much they wanted to be with me—" “Oh no, that’s horrible.” “—and I can see it on their faces every time that they never really meant it!” Jay’s mouth snaps shut as Cole jumps back to his feet. He starts pacing back and forth, working himself up as he rambles. “It was never about me with those people; it was the power, the money, the prestige…! Or that they felt obligated, or even pity sometimes, because how could I have gotten this far without finding anybody, right?! What kind of failure of a prince am I?!"

blue- In the Company of the Stars (ch4, unpublished)

Giddy with shameless glee, Cole scoops up the blue bouquet as well, inhaling the inviting floral aroma that makes him more ready for the day than any cup of coffee could ever hope to. He falls back upon his bed in a fit of laughter, coddling the bouquet in lieu of who he’d really like to be hugging right now. Even if the other party isn't here right now, Cole's never felt more beloved. Jay, meanwhile, leans in Cole’s doorway as the prince frolics around the room, beginning to sing wildly off-key. The retainer's expression remains absolutely gobsmacked, unsure of whether to be pleased that Cole’s found some sense of joy in this crazy situation…or show some concern for their guests who are wondering just who is "strangling an ostrich from three doors down".

echo- The Legend of the Green Ninja Lives (Ch4, unpublished)

Lloyd wouldn’t really call himself an early riser, so much as an…insomniac. If it’s not general restlessness, it’s nightmares, and if it’s not nightmares then it’s the thousand-and-one things going through his head at once. And with how yesterday went…it’s no wonder his thoughts just wouldn’t shut up. He tries pushing all his thoughts down, giving the world a golden hue as he does…but, that has the opposite effect consisting of total, complete silence in his mind. And an echoing nothing is just as unsettling as constant, self-depreciating thoughts. So, Lloyd wakes up. Even if only in the physical sense.

flicker- The Legend of the Green Ninja Lives (Ch--, unpublished)

"…I just wish life would stop hurting me." Lloyd stills. Gold flickers at the edge of his vision. He inhales, and his voices quivers as he says, "…yeah, me too."

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #long post #tag games #my stuff #fic tag #legacyverse

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g0nta-g0kuhara · 1 year

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Actually let me elaborate on this a bit more- There's a big issue in the fandom with infantilizing Gonta, especially in stuff made before 2020. Like, this problem is super well known. But even though I'd say its greatly improved nowadays, the more I've looked through Gonta fan art, the more I've started to notice a weird lack of serious pieces.

Using Kaito as a baseline of comparison, you see a lot of stuff focused on him being dumb, a force of positivity, and brave, but also stuff related to his sickness, his inability to ask others for help, and ch5. There's a good range of work you can find with him. On the other hand, with Gonta, most of the fanworks you can find focused on him are usually centered around how kind and positive he is, sometimes about him being a gentleman, sometimes about his connection to animals/bugs. It is pretty rare to see him in anything focused on ch4. Which is extremely surprising, considering that's his big chapter! With Kokichi as another primary focus! You'd think at least Kokichi's popularity would carry more fan stuff of ch4, but I just haven't seen that much.

A large part of this Is definitely due to him being a minor character who is not as popular as Kaito is, and I understand that that level of focus fandomwide isn't really realistic, and I'm biased by my preferences to the point of maybe not thinking realistically. But I do also think another reason is lingering infantilization of his character. People who understandably don't spend all day thinking about Gonta like I do just don't usually see deeper into his character past his naivete and cheerfulness.

I adore cute/sunshiney gonta art, I really really do, I make it all the time myself and will take as much as I can get. but I also wish so strongly that there was more focused on the more serious aspects of his character. Like his desire to be accepted by his birth family and seen as useful to his friends, his canonical *very explicit* self loathing, his bravery and desire to protect everyone even at the cost of his own life, and most of all, everything that happened to him in ch4.

#shut up me #probably gonna regret posting this tomorrow but ah. fuck it we ball #sorry if this makes no sense im tired

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lonisaiou · 19 days

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14, 23 and 91!

Ohhh oh!!!! I like these ones quite a lot! This is going to be a lenghty answer

14. I'm stuck between Kokichi's 4th freetime event because I find it absolutely hilarious how he predicts all of Shuichi's moves, and Ibuki's last freetime event because I truly felt seen through her words... It was a very touching moment that I think I won't ever forget; also Ibuki is pretty awesome

23. woah... what can I say, v3's chapter 1 is an absolute 10/10 from start to finish, and an incredible introduction to such a wonderful game! From the motive, the setting + buildup, the blackened and the victim, and also the REAL blackened.... What a crazy start! I would've normally answered v3's chapter 5 because it was genuinely one of the most stressful trials I had to endure, but I barely see chapter 1 getting the credit it deserves (also... I just love these two equally)

To this day it still sends me chills to my bones when we get to the protag switch on the trial, and I even start sobbing! Seriously after all this time and it still gets some tears out of me?? Not many cases gets me this emotional. It was also like such a bold move on the team for getting rid of the protagonist, and setting such an important message that carried all the way through till the end, and affected almost if not all the members of the cast! Kaede is such an amazing character seriously... And I think that's what v3 does best, making you feel so deeply for fictional characters that you truly get invested in the hardships they face

Also Rantaro was such a big enigma, I loved what they were setting up for him and it got me really intrigued as to find out more about him and his talent throughout the game, and when we got, later on, a segment of his video I was so hooked! He's such a mysterious character I can't help it but be drawn to him

Overall, rewatching this chapter for a second time truly hits different, knowing exactly what actually happened and seeing the countless of ways they could've avoided this situation can be a bit frustrating but I would personally not change anything as I enjoy the impact it had on the story

edit: I feel like I haven't properly answered the ask, as I've only touched the trial part of the chapter, but ch1's Daily Life was the real deal, as I was really invested in Kaede's will to work together with everyone, how little by little she formed almost an unbreakable bond with Shuichi (in such a short time at that) and the conflicts that came from her stubborness! Her rivalry with Rantaro, even if it was subtle, was really well handled, since they truly conveyed the Belief vs Distrust themes of v3, and even after their death that theme was thankfully explored through Kokichi and Kaito. I also like how ch1 and ch4 compliment each other as they don't shy away from tormenting these characters alongside the player, and how both blackeneds were almost impossible to imagine commit a crime such as murder. They knew exactly the right buttons to push to get you weeping on your seat

(Ahh.... I will probably talk about v3's chapter 5 on another, more elaborate, post, as I feel that if I start talking about it now this post is going to get reaaaaal long)

91. Dang it why does it always have to be one? There are so many good ones, I can't choose... So I will just link some down here ;)

Gravitational Attraction by whattheskyknows is without a debout one of my favourite oumota fics! And surprsignly enough, it's fluff. (I'm more into angsty fics haha) it's genuinely really funny and their romance is just so them! I would recomend it to anyone

Motive 5: Death Puzzles by lunarleonardo is a really good chapter 5 rewrite where it completely changes the course of the game (by adding this rather... special Motive, yk what to expect from the title alone),and it's also saiou, which I'm a big softie for. I'm pretty sure it was one of the first Danganronpa fanfictions I had read when I entered the fandom a couple of months back (?) It's filled with angst and the way lunarleonardo handled saiou's relationship made me feel deeply for these two. I would pay reaaally close attention to the warnings at the start of each chapter thoought, as it gets really bad at some points, but promise there's a happy ending!

I'd Trade My Life for Yours by grayimperia is definitely a must-read on the dr fandom (in my must humble opinion haha), like there's always this one fanfiction everyone has read or should read it within a fandom, just like with Amalgamate by DoctorHaifisch, and these two are definitely the v3 fanfictions! They're both wonderful pieces of fiction that delivered amazing new insights on the cast, and put together some really cool scenarios that are just as good as what canon gave us. I feel like I'm reading a script directly from a Danganronpa Game, because the characterization of each of the characters and their dialogues are on point, awesome stuff that I'm sure many have already read, but I couldn't not put them

finally (because this is getting really long, sorry) Reaching by kokichiouma is my personal favourite timeloop fic! I'm a big fan of the character exploration for Kokichi that the author made through this fic, and his relationship with Shuichi is just *cheffs kiss*, very high quiality fic! And a bit underrated too, it deserves so much more praise

..... Phew! That was a looot of yapping, my bad! Thanks for the ask btw <3

#ddloni yapping #ask game #ndrv3

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rainbows-and-shadows · 2 months

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Rainbows Tinted Pink: A Rainbow High Swap AU

Chapter 4: Digital Sunbeams

Previous - Ch4 - Next

As the week went on, the group worked away at their runway tasks. It was nearing the end of their Wednesday runway class, and everyone was displaying the work they'd done that week.

Skyler had begun pinning fabric together for Ruby’s outfit, while Amaya began sketching out drafts for her dress, Poppy was busy composing both the beginnings of a runway music mix and finishing the one for next Friday’s party, Ruby was trying to put a plan together to make a runway set, and Violet was practising filming and photography techniques.

Jade was almost done displaying her first drafts for their hair and makeup, then it would be Sunny’s turn. She couldn't wait to show off her new storyboards to her friends.

“Okay, that's Amaya’s look down, and the first drafts started for Skyler, Poppy and Violet! That’s my work done. Sunny, you're up!”

“Okay, these are my storyboards for Skyler, Poppy and Violet’s animation clips! Tada!”

She laid the three boards out on the table, each displaying eight rough frames of animation. Each had a similar cloud pattern, with orange, blue and purple skies respectively. Poppy’s had a few of her signature monarch butterflies fluttering about, Skyler’s showed shining gemstones softly falling away from the clouds, and Violet’s included raindrops morphing into iridescent pearls.

“Legendary!” Poppy exclaimed. “You think you can add more butterflies to my cloud animations? Ooh, and some black clef notes!”

“This is so cool Sunny, but I don’t think this works with everything else,” Skyler said uneasily.

“I know I said I wanted the raindrops to turn into pearls, but I was so wrong,” Violet added. “This is so not me.”

“Wait, you want me to redo these?” Sunny asked, unsure and a little hurt.

“Yeah,” Skyler rubbed her arm awkwardly. “Sorry, but it’s no big deal, right?”

“I guess not,” she mumbled, gathering up her boards. “I just wanted you to love my storyboards. I worked really hard on them.”

She grabbed her bag and glumly slipped out of the classroom.

“Sunny, wait,” Amaya called, hurrying after her.

As soon as she caught up to her, she immediately wrapped her arm around her roommate’s shoulders to soothe her. Sunny found her tension and upset lessening at her touch. Although Violet was always going to be a constant in her group of friends, Amaya, Skyler and Poppy were quickly becoming her closest friends in the group.

To Sunny, her friendships with others were held in high regard. She prides herself on being a good friend, helping others and cheering them up whenever they need it. And whenever she was feeling down, she knew she could count on her best friend, and now her roommates to always cheer her up. Which made the fact that Skyler, Poppy and Violet didn’t like her animations all the more stinging.

“Everyone's feeling pressure for our Runway show to be absolutely perfect,” Amaya continued soothingly. “Don't feel sad.”

“I just, I don't want to let everyone down,” she admitted as she walked down the hallway and into her next class. “I haven't even started on your storyboard, Maya!”

“What about ours?” Jade asked out of curiosity, as she entered with Ruby.

“No one,” Sunny replied glumly as she sank into a nearby chair. “Not yours, not Ruby's, not even mine.”

“Okay, maybe we need to chill a little bit with our feedback?” Amaya suggested, as Violet, Poppy and Skyler finally joined them.

“But everyone gives us notes on our fashion sketches too,” Skyler reasoned.

“Sure, but if we fall behind on what we've gotta do, we're toast!” Ruby remarked.

“Ahem,” an unfamiliar teacher in a smart pink outfit sitting at the desk at the front of the class caught their attention. “It looks like I picked the right day to meet my advisory group face-to-face!”

The girls immediately recognized her voice and realized she was their advisor, Miss Morton.

“Miss Morton!”

“You're here!”

“It's nice to meet you!”

“How was fashion week?”

“Can you tell us everything?”

“Afraid not,” she sighed, smiling at the girls. “But I’d love it if you told me what's going on?”

“Well, Sunny was showing us animation storyboards for Runway class, but the notes some of us gave her were upsetting,” Skyler explained gently.

“Okay. Sunny, did the critiques upset you?” Miss Morton asked her.

“I just, I worked really hard all week on them,” Sunny muttered, hugging the boards. “And I didn’t feel like they were appreciated.”

Just then, the bell rang. Miss Morton sighed and began gathering up her things.

“Listen, I have to take a study hall now, but I'll work out the best way to help you in the meantime,” she assured them as she walked to the door. “It's like Miss Anderson aptly said. Without teamwork, you're all toast.”

As Miss Morton paced down to Room 126, she started devising a plan to help her group. It was still the early stages of the term, so the girls were still getting to know each other properly. A bonding activity perhaps? She had seen on Sunny’s file that she enjoyed escape rooms…

💛🌈💛🌈💛🌈💛🌈💛

A few hours after class was finished, nearing nine o'clock, the girls had gathered in Sunny, Skyler, Amaya, and Poppy’s dorm for dinner and to watch TV. However, Sunny had retreated into her room after eating and hadn't come out since.

“Sunny, please come out!” Amaya knocked on her door but got no response.

“She needs to chill,” Violet sighed. “If I lost it over every comment on The Vi Life, I'd never post again.”

“She probably just went to sleep,” Skyler said. “It is getting late.”

Just then, the lights in every single room were switched off, plunging everyone into pitch-black darkness.

“Woah!”

“What's going on?”

“What happened?”

“Blackout!”

“Wrong,” Avery called from the door, illuminating the room with the torch on her phone, Ainsley just beside her. Strangely, her hands were full of what appeared to be blindfolds. “Prefect drop-in! Miss Morton sent us, she has plans for you.”

The two placed the black blindfolds over each girl’s eyes before they began to lead them out of the dorm, to their mystery destination.

💛🌈💛🌈💛🌈💛🌈💛

Ten minutes later, Avery and Ainsley had carefully taken them downstairs and removed their blindfolds. The girls realised the pair had taken them down to a salon in the Cosmetology department. Miss Morton stood in front of them, arms folded behind her back.

“Thank you, Avery and Ainsley. You can head back up to your dorms.”

The two prefects immediately left, as their advisor turned to the girls sharply.

“Listen up, ladies,” she announced. “This salon is now an escape room. Your mission is to work together, follow the clues, and find the key to get out!”

And with that, she slipped outside and closed the doors, locking them in.

“Yes! I love escape rooms!” Sunny immediately perked up. “My 10th, 11th, and 13th birthday parties were all in escape rooms!”

“Sunny and Vi, super escape artists. I'm all over filming this,” Violet grabbed her phone, only to see it was almost dead. “No! Low battery! Everybody, start the escape room without me. I'm gonna find a charger, you look for clues.”

“Well, if this place is an escape room now, that explains what those things are,” Jade pointed to a line of seven comb-shaped slots, each one a different colour of the rainbow on the far wall. There was also a large combination lock on one of the cabinets.

“I’m in here all the time, and I’ve never seen them before until now,” she continued.

“They must be part of the puzzle!” Ruby deduced. “Let’s start looking for clues.”

The group searched around the room for a few minutes, inspecting the shelves, cosmetic products and salon equipment. So far, nothing stood out.

Just then, Jade spotted a magenta slip of paper, just like a clue from their scavenger hunt. in between two salon chairs.

“Sick, I found a note! ‘Be the rainbow. The strength of your group is the mirror of your success. Okay, let's see,” she pondered, as she looked around the room.

“Wait! Mirror of your success,” Skyler said, staring at the mirror on the other side of the room. “Should we check the mirror?”

She and Sunny rushed over to the mirror, inspecting the sides. Sunny gently pulled at her side, and it swung open, revealing an unlit neon sign inside, decorated with a collection of random letters.

“Vroy ig boio rzav ad?” Amaya clumsily read the random letters out, clearly confused as to what they meant.

“Maybe it's an eye chart!” Poppy suggested, placing her hand over her right eye. “Vraggy boy ziels? Nope, still nothing.”

“I found something. Look!” Violet called over as she held up a bright yellow comb, with a magenta note stuck into the teeth. “It says, ‘Finding the rainbow may be hard, but with every single colour together, it's easy to see it shine.’ What does that mean?”

Sunny glanced at the sunshine yellow comb, then at the matching yellow slot on the wall.

“Wait, if I know escape rooms, which I do,” she took the comb from Violet, ran over to the comb-shaped slots on the wall, perfectly fitting into the yellow space, and watched as it lit up in bright neon yellow.

“Puzzle piece combs!” Ruby realised. “That’s tight. Let's look for more!”

The girls rushed around the room, eager to find the rest of the puzzle pieces.

Violet fished a blue comb out of the sink of a salon chair. Poppy spotted a green comb on a nearby dressing table. Jade dug a red comb out of a drawer full of hair supplies. Skyler spun a swivel chair around and saw an orange comb taped under the seat. Amaya found a pink comb atop a shelf of eyeshadow palettes. And finally, Ruby spotted a purple comb poking out of a selection of nail polishes.

Everyone lined their combs up with the slots, and on Sunny’s cue, pressed them in.

“Three, two, one, go!” Sunny declared as everyone stuck them in at the exact same time. Suddenly, seven of the letters in the mirror lit up, each in a different rainbow colour.

“Score! We got the letters,” Poppy cried.

“And the combination lock is glowing too!” Skyler added, pointing to it.

“The letters have to be the combination!” Amaya realised, kneeling to look at the lock. “Sunny, can you read them off?”

She turned to the neon sign. “R, O, Y, G, B, I, V. Wait, that's the colours of the rainbow! Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet!”

Amaya quickly entered the combination, pulled off the lock and flung open the cabinet doors. Inside was a fold-up projector in a box, Sunny’s sticker-coated laptop that she’d left charging in Animation class, pencils, and seven whiteboards, perfect for storyboarding.

“Star eyes emoji! I'm in animation heaven!” Sunny squealed.

“Awesome!” Amaya cried. “But I bet I would be too if we could see some of your cartoons?”

“Absolutely!”

“Yes!”

“Wait, guys like my animations now?” Sunny asked, a little confused.

“Now? Always,” Violet grinned.

“But you were all so judgy during Runway class.”

“It's just such a big project,” Skyler explained. “We all want it to be perfect, but I’m sorry if we were too harsh.”

“No, I get it. Thanks,” Sunny smiled, feeling her upset melting away immediately. “So, are we ready to escape or what?”

“How about we forget that and let you entertain us with a couple of episodes of Hi Hi Kawaii?” Amaya suggested as everyone else voiced their agreement.

“Of course! But it’s gonna take a while for me to set everything up. What do you wanna do in the meantime?”

“Well, we are in a salon, full of makeup and hair products,” Jade said suggestively, grabbing some hairspray and brushes. “I have been needing some hairstyling practice for our Runway looks.”

“Yes!”

“Me first!”

“I'm next!”

“Will you do mine?”

“Okay, pick your colours and hold on tight, 'cause it's gonna be a killer night!”

Sunny quickly got to work setting up the projector, connected it to her laptop, and pressed play on her latest Hi Hi Kawaii episodes, just as Jade sat Ruby down in a salon chair, with a pile of products and equipment ready at her side.

💛🌈💛🌈💛🌈💛🌈💛

A few hours later, the sun had begun to rise, unnoticed by the girls, still stuck in the salon. Sunny played almost all of the Hi Hi Kawaii episodes she had ever done, along with a few newer projects Meanwhile, everyone had new hairstyles, courtesy of Jade.

“We are everything!” Violet squealed, marvelling at the shimmering lilac ombre she had styled into her hair, as Jade stood behind her, proud of her handiwork.

Ruby had gone for a metallic gold streak in her locks, Sunny chose a little neon blue through a part of her bangs and a space bun, Poppy selected sparkly rose red, Amaya went with a golden yellow ombre, and Skyler chose a simple silver shine throughout her hair. Jade had even given herself a strand of glimmering pink.

And it wasn’t just her who’d gone through a sudden creative burst. While her animations were playing, Sunny entered a complete creative frenzy, and now has seven new storyboards for everyone in her arms.

“Thanks. We've got you guys,” Jade smirked, wrapping her arm around Sunny’s shoulders.

“We know. You can practise on us anytime,” Skyler replied.

“And feel free to use us as an audience if you need it Sunny!” Poppy added.

Just then, Miss Morton entered the salon, making Sunny and Jade tense. She glanced at the room, surprised to see the girls still there, with new hairstyles and the projector still hooked up to Sunny’s laptop.

“So, Miss Hunter gave you makeovers, and Miss Madison entertained you with her animations, instead of escaping. That was a bold choice ladies.”

The girls stared at the floor nervously.

“A bold choice I'm sure you made as a team! Good work,” she continued. “I hope you got some sleep, your first period is in forty-five minutes!”

Everyone startled and bolted off to get ready. Sunny paused, staring joyfully at the seven new storyboards in her arms. They were still rough drafts, but at least she had something she could work on and perfect over the next few weeks.

“Sunny, come on!” Skyler called from the door, Amaya and Poppy just beside her.

“Coming, Skyler,” she rushed out to them.

As Sunny walked alongside her roommates, slightly rushed so as to not be late for class, she felt content and at peace, after the slight misunderstanding of yesterday. But now, with Amaya, Poppy and Skyler at her side, she felt like she could take on the world.

As long as they had each other, nothing could ever go wrong.

————

AN: Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to like, reblog and comment, and I’ll see you next time, where a certain party has an unexpected revelation.

#rainbow high #rainbows tinted pink #rainbow high fanfiction #rainbow high fanfic #amaya raine #sunny madison #ruby anderson #poppy rowan #jade hunter #skyler bradshaw #violet willow #ainsley slater #avery styles

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everythingne · 6 months

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out of the woods, 5 (ls2)

With clear favoritism boosting all of Ferrari's tactics, Dhanishka makes a difficult decision after a crash causes her to see the true colors of her team. Logan sweeps in to save the day.

series masterlist

warnings/notes: mistreatment of Dhanishka by Ferrari, misogyny, migraines, car accidents with very minor injuries, dhanishka and logan kinda being toxic for eachother? yes this is rewritten !

(ch4) (ch6)

The little room they've shoved us all into for media is more crowded than I want it to be. The Chinese GP was off to a rocky start already, with downpour rains all day on Thursday and distant thunderstorms for all of Friday and Saturday, supposedly. Ducking through the media area, I'm looking for Charles, turned in on myself even in the room full of flashing lights as I try to hide from the world. I want nothing to do with media today. I know it's going to be a shit show, and my stomach churns and knots. I manage to hide pretty well, biting my tongue and moving as quickly and as silently as possible until I pop my head up to look. Charles had said he was in the back, but when I look around I can't spot his red shirt anywhere.

I'm about to leave, planning to head back to the garage until I have to come out for media, but I make solid eye contact with Logan across the room. A weird wave of calm hits me, before its also sprinkled with anxiety.

We haven't spoke since he kicked me out, and his face contorts somewhere between what I know to be his normal happy expression and his general frustrated expression.

I can't even read his expressions anymore.

I swallow my pride and smile at him, knowing the cameras are on me. I note his smile isn't full, he does still return one, which at least tells me he'll be normal around media. Which is still my biggest concern even with this new sort of tugging feeling in my heart, which I assume is from when he nestled himself in there and fancied himself a home. Even as he waves me over, I hesitate to move, and I can tell he senses my apprehension. Excusing himself from Oscar and Alex's sides, he begins to cross the small, cramped room. I manage to slip through a wall of reporters surrounding Max (who I don't notice is next to Charles), I'm accidentally being shoved aside and nearly falling flat on my head before I'm grabbed and pulled into the firm protective hold of Logan. Instinctively, his arm wraps tight around my waist as he brings me to his chest. My hands find his shoulders and slide across in a hug as he leans his head down to whisper,

"You look terrified, Isa." His hand squeezes my waist and leaves the skin tingly, as if he's shocked it with little electrodes hidden in his fingertips. All his lingering touches feel like that, they have since I was seventeen.

"I am." I say back to him as I pull back from the hug just enough for us to look at eachother, "It's first media day after we announced this whole... thing."

Logan nods and then sighs, but what I don't expect is for him to take me tight by the skin just above my elbows and into a quiet, dark corner. I also pretend I don't see Oscar cover up for our sudden disappearance from the media pen.

"What are we doing, Dhanishka?" He hisses through his teeth, trapping me in the corner. He's doing it to keep media from seeing our faces if they spot us through the tiny crowd behind Logan's back. But he's also doing it to pressure me into answering him, or at least it feels like that.

"What do you mean?" I ask, not exactly knowing what he's looking for me to say.

"With us." He emphasizes, "We never exactly spoke about it. And you look at me one way and treat me another, so figure out right now how you want this to go."

I pause, a deep feeling in my gut I can't name making its home there as I blink up at my ex-boyfriend now kinda-boyfriend.

"We go along with the PR plans." I say softly and he nods, stepping back to just huff, and run his hand through his hair before letting it fall to his side as he says, "This is probably the worst possible time to bring that up, but I'm sorry for just assuming you wanted to..."

He trails off and before he can finish, I shake my head softly and give him the tiniest reassuring smile I can muster. He quiets at the soft expression on my face as I bring one hand squeeze his forearm;

"No, Logan. I should've told you the truth of what I wanted out of this from from the beginning. It was wrong of me to string you along like that," and I hesitate before adding in a softer voice, "I don't regret it, if you're scared about that, too."

He seems taken aback by my apology, but before we can say more, Logan's manager Astrid comes up to us and smiles in the most fake way I've ever seen in my life.

"Oh good! You two, okay listen," She snaps at me to get my attention and I don't hide the obvious distaste for her attitude I have as she keeps talking, "you guys are acting super awkward and I know you aren't actors but we need to keep selling this to help PR, okay? Logan, be a bit touchier, Dhanishka, smile. You both have images to uphold!"

When she waves us over to media, everything just feels strained. We would've gotten somewhere without the rude interruption from his manager. Logan does listen though, and settles his hand on my lower back to guide me into the media area where a few different drivers are already being interviewed.

When we go to split off to do our interviews, he plants a soft kiss to the side of my head and fixes one of my necklaces thats twisted before squeezing my hand three times.

He did that when we were still kids.

I'm lucky Ophelia is calling me over to do the interview, so I can distract myself from the tears threatening to fall over my waterline. Luckily, for now, I'm out of the grabbing range of asshole reporters and the people who only want a headline.

"Danny..!" Ophelia sings, handing me a microphone labeled 'VOGUE' as she steps in, ever so elegantly, next to me.

"Since we last spoke, quite a bit has happened, but lets talk about this outfit?"

"You look stunning, the red of the Ferrari suits has always looked good on your but this pop? Stunning, brilliant, we love to see it."

We talk a bit more about fashion, and her interview is a bit longer than I'm expecting. I don't wanna leave the safety of her interview, but eventually I'm pulled away and into the mass of the boring, normal interviews.

I wanted to talk more about why Ferrari was using this specific shade of red, not why my rear wing continuously failed while Charles' was always fine. I chalked it up to me driving about a hundred times more aggressively than Charles.

After an hour of normal interviews, it's Sky News who comes to be the kicker. It's some white man reporter I don’t recognize. Unfortunately not Jenson today. When I feel someone staring at me while I greet myself to the reporter, I turn to their gaze and spot Logan. He's far down the pen on my left side and he's staring. When we make eye contact, he makes a foul face at the reporter before he's snagged by another reporter. I don't have time to try and ask further. I miss the reporter introducing himself but don’t miss the way Charles, on my right, comes behind me and roughly grips my wrist.

“Any specific reason you were spotted in London last weekend?” The man asks me. His grip is tightly holding the orange taped microphone towards me and I shrug with a tiny smile. I find myself awkwardly rocking from side to side out of habit. Something in my head tripping every red alarm.

“Just making some visits to my friends, is all. I also had some media responsibilities.” I reply calmly and catch Logan’s eye again. This time, my look lingers long enough to see him try to mouth something to me before the reporter talking pulls me away again.

“A certain driver seems to have caught your eye, though, are we correct to assume there’s some heat between you and a certain Williams driver?” The man smiles almost predatory. Immediately after, Charles taps the back of my arm to signal me to move back as he eyes the reporter. If looks could kill, we'd have a tag team homicide between him and Logan. So, I move back. My eyes study the mans face, the hooded eyes, the slightly narrower left eye. The crooked nose, the wobbly smile. It rings of Trident. Screams it in my face. I can't help but let a soft laugh tumble out of my lips at the realization. It's fucking Anthony Davis. That's why both Logan and Charles have stopped to watch.

“Thought my instagram post was pretty clear,” I chime once I find my footing and push my emotions back, “maybe not as clear as the literal blackmailing you did to Logan. But I'm sure that Williams' lawyers will be in contact soon enough."

My PR agent is gonna just quit one of these days due to my mouth. But I had to say what I needed to. I keep my ice cold glare on Anthony, who tries to stammer out some excuse about the blackmail and I scoff.

"Sorry your brother is too much of a liar to be able to dirty my name. So much so that he sent his baby brother to do his dirty work." I snip and Charles is staring like I’ve just cursed this man out.

I think I can hear Lando laughing somewhere off to the side.

"Dhanishka." Charles hisses through his teeth. Anthony tries to provoke me one more time, and then I point a finger in Anthony's face with a snarl as I step closer.

“We’re done with you and your bullshit, Davis. I hope you have a terrible day. Make sure to tell David I said hi, just to remind him of the woman who took his career from him.” I grin forcibly, watching as Anthony’s face grows in anger. Charles steps between us, asking Anthony to leave and I allow myself a reprieve here to look around. Logan gives me a little smile and an appreciative nod, which I return, before I’m being pulled away by PR.

Qualifying brings back Ferrari’s curse.

I change and take my hair out of its now frizzy braid, taking the time to brush it as I stick my head under the sink faucet to wet my hair. I’m wringing it out as I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I call, grabbing a towel to place over my shoulders as the door pops open and I’m greeted with the soon to be Norris’ couple.

I gawk, “How did you both get in here?”

“That fucking reporter.”

"Sounds like Ferrari, between this and the way Aakash speaks to you over the radios?" Olivia hums, "I think I've heard both Charles and Carlos say these same complaints over the years."

"Maybe talk to Charles about everything, he'd know Ferrari better than I would." Lando suggests, watching his fiance as she finishes off my braid. She then squeezes my shoulders and pulls me back to rest on her chest as she lazily wraps her arms around me. Lando kicking his legs up to rest on my lap as he yawns into the back of his hand.

"I have been, he's been a huge help, but it's still ridiculous." I complain, smushed against Olivia's Red Bull tee as I close my eyes to fight off the stress migraine forming.

"The car or the radio?" Olivia asks and I laugh,

"Both." I declare and she nods in agreement. I complain for a bit longer, Olivia convincing me to talk to Charles about my frustrations once again. But by the time I've gone off to find him, I notice his attention being held by Fred and some of the engineers. Even when I try to get him away, he's continuously pulled back with soft sorry's thrown over his red clad shoulders.

After an hour of trying and failing, I just go home. It's not worth my energy.

I go to bed that night with a migraine, but I'm not sick, nor do I feel stressed. The migraine comes from nowhere, I barely have enough time to get meds in me and get myself tucked in my blankets before it gets worse. I barely stomach my dinner, and it takes ages for me to finally fall asleep.

The next day I nearly crash twice when my tires are too worn. I keep asking, but they won't box me. After the race, I attend all my meetings, and while they celebrate another Charles podium, I can't help but sulk in my drivers room after giving Charles a tight hug in celebration. Sure, I finished a lucky P9 for my car issues... but I was fighting with Max in P2 when my rear tires decided they hated me.

I asked so many times to be boxed. It’s not the first time they've refused to pull me into the pits, but today was the most dangerous. I had no grip, I had nothing but prayers and maybe a bit of luck because I didn't crash out.

When my frustrations don't wear off, even after I snag the treadmill to sprint until my legs are jello, I go to try and find Charles for our little private post-race debrief. I need him in this moment like a fish needs water. The debriefs we have been having being the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in Ferrari. I spot him in the garage. He's being held captive by the team. They engross themselves in deep plans for his racing, smiling and waving hands in excitement. I notice no one had come to grab me. I dart my eyes around and swallow the sick feeling in my gut. Why wasn't I grabbed for a team meeting? Had they forgotten me?

"What about Dhanishka?" Charles asks, eyes flickering over to meet mine and I feel the pull to enter the conversation. I'm ready to make my way over, assuming it was a misunderstanding, until Fred shakes his head and squeezes his golden boys shoulder. The way he does it is so paternal. It almost makes me feel sick.

"Dhanishka comes second to you, Charles. You are more important than some girl. We'll use her to help you..."

Fred's voice fades out to a ringing in my ears. I feel my hands immediately start shaking. I feel myself becoming a mix of rage and embarrassment -- my face burns hotter than prodded embers.

More important than some girl?

How could I have been so stupid? All this time I've been trying to convince myself Ferrari wasn't Trident and here they are, planning behind my back. But to ass insult to injury, it's not for my benefit. In this moment, I am Viscaal, and I understand it now.

They've been straight up gaslighting me.

And when Charles snaps his head up to meet my eyes after a moment, I've already turned to rush down the hall. Tears of betrayal prick in my eyes at my own stupidity, that I felt like I belonged in this red building. Sure, it was something off hand, maybe he didn't mean it the way he said it due to poor translation from language to language, but it was enough to frustrate me to tears.

Would I ever escape teams like this?

I retire to my hotel room early that night. As soon as I can. All I wanna do is party, but to save myself the potential breakdown, I choose not to join anyone in the festivities. My mistake is thinking if I ignore the mass amounts of messages blowing up my phone, no one will search for further answers. Everyone, even drivers like Magnussen, knew I loved a good post race party.

I was the life of the party next to Lando after all.

As soon as I get back, still in all my racing gear save for the helmet, I drop my bag at the door, kick off my shoes, and crawl into bed. I ignore the world, let the sun set into black skies as I stay tucked in my bed. I can't bring myself to move, to change, to shower, to even eat. There's a mix of anxiety, fear, and disappointment in myself wrecking havoc in my gut and genuine pain in my body keeping me in the plush blankets.

My parents call to congratulate me, I humor them with a tired smile and blame it on the time zones. I pretend I'm asleep when I see Anya tries to call me twice.

I can't lie to her. I know she could tell it was more.

I have to ignore Anya so my family will continue to think I'm doing fine. I can't worry them about me turning into the monster I had been after Trident again. If that even seems true, my dad will somehow find a way to pull me out of F1 and bring me home immediately. I try to suppress it, but I can feel that monster clawing at the restraints. I've held it in for so long this season, making it all the way to China's GP, but I know one more thing might make me say fuck it and let myself grow cold again.

Half awake, several hours later, not that I would know the time, someone knocking at the door makes me jump. I ignore it, even as the muffled voices call for me and ask if I'm alright. They all sound like strangers due to how sleepy I am, refusing to move from my warmth, I just stay still. Laying curled up, tucked up to my chin in blankets, until someone scans a card in the door and begins to let themselves in. I jump, preparing to throw my phone in defense, when it's Danny who pops his head in.

"I have a bad migraine, but I'm alive." I say, choosing for that to be the reason as to why I was laying in the dark. Not because I felt too tired to get up to turn the light on. Or that I felt my seventeen year old rage returning.

"Need anything?" Logan asks, feather soft, before the others can. I hate how I can see him noticing all my soft lines turning hard. His eyes trace my face, across my shoulders and then to the way my body lumps under the blankets. I just sit there. Then I shrug when I realize they're expecting an answer.

"Just some sleep. I'll see you guys next race weekend." I wave them off, fake yawning into the back of my hand. Never a fool to my lies, Logan steps into the door frame. Just... welcoming himself in. I don't argue, though something tells me I wouldn't win anyway. Danny and Charles watch cautiously as Logan crosses the room to sit on the edge of my bed, pressing his hand to my temple.

"You're not sick." He murmurs, "just a stress migraine this time, then?"

"You--huh?" I blink and Logan smiles party, a soft blush on his cheeks only illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"You always get migraines when you're stressed or when you've got a fever, Isa." He squeezes my wrist, watching my face carefully, "If you don't feel hot when you have a migraine, it's just stress."

“I know. It’s just been a hard adjustment.” I shrug and Logan nods.

“Adjustings a bitch.” he says and I laugh softly as he frowns, "have you taken meds?"

"Wasn't able to get up and grab them before the migraine kicked in." I say and Charles moves immediately, picking up my back pack and settling it on the edge of the bed while he roots through the side pocket to find my medication bottles. Once found, he hands them to Logan, who hands them to me while Daniel roots through the kitchenette for a water bottle.

"You guys don't have to do this." I say softly as Daniel tosses a bottle to Logan, who cracks it open and hands it to me.

"We do it because we care, not because we have to." Charles sits next to me as I take the medication and Daniel nods, sitting at the foot of the bed while Logan leans on the wall to my side.

"Thank you." I hum and then spend the next five minutes convincing Daniel and Charles to leave, and they go, with the promise that Logan will stay while I shower and get changed into comfy clothes because, according to Daniel,

"Logan's the only guy who really should be seeing that."

With a shove from Charles out the door, Daniel bids goobye and Charles follows suit. I go to get up and before I can, Logan gently sets me down.

"Relax. I'll get everything in order for you." He says softly, then pauses and turns, "they're still as bad as they were with Tri-- Sorry, F2?"

I note Logan cuts himself off and adjusts his words, as if trying to keep Trident a distant memory so I didn't have to think about those days anymore.

Or so he doesn't have to bring up how he still doesn't believe me about back then.

I nod.

Logan opens my suitcase, dodging the underwear and bras, and finds a Ferrari team shirt and a pair of baggy sweats for me. He dissapears into the bathroom and I hear the shower running while he comes back out to grab my hair stuff from the same little bag I've always kept it in before he dissapears again. The medication is kicking in, so a bit of the big edge of the migraine is starting to fade.

Logan comes to my side, laying a cold compress across my forehead as he hums, "Do you have the magnesium and the lavender still?"

"Magnesium I already took with my Maxalt. Lavender is over here." I point to the bedside table and he nods once he spots it, then asks,

"How about an ice cap?"

"In the freezer."

"Other meds?"

"Triphala churan is in my bag, I have the other homeopathy stuff with it."

Logan nods once more, using one of my hands to keep the towel in place for a few moments while he moves to fully draw the curtains closed and he clicks off all the ambiant lighting save for one small orangey lamp off to the far side of the room just so we can see.

"Come on, lets get you up. Get those tense muscles relaxed and get you cleaned up."

It shocks me how much Logan remembers from my migraine attacks, and though this is the acute point where I'm the worst, I find it easier to manage with him at my side.

He brings me into the bathroom, where he's set everything out. Even my skincare is set next to the sink.

"I'll be in the bedroom." He says from the doorway, "I'll leave the door cracked so you have a bit of light but I promise I'm not peeking."

His playful grin makes me tiredly smile as I thank him as he leaves, and I turn to feel the water. It's the perfect temperature. If I didn't already have a searing headache, I might've started crying. I take the time to wash my hair and body, lavender filling the room. It was what was in most of my soaps, considering it helped my headache flare-ups and migraines. I swear I hear Logan open and close the door to the room, but chalk it up to the sound of my headache ringing in my ears.

When I get out of the shower, I dry off and change as quickly as possible, hoping to be able to get out of the bathroom before standing too long made my migraine flare. I manage to do my skincare, which is a bonus, and as I step into the bedroom I smell some sort of food.

Logan is doing something in the kitchenette as so I stumble over and pop my chin on his shoulder to see him making up two little salmon and rice bowls he must've gotten from carry out.

"Feeling better?" He hums softly and I shrug, closing my eyes and sighing heavily. I feel his hesitation, before an arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close to him.

"Salmon is supposed to help with migraines so I got these bowls from this place Zhou recommended nearby." Logan says, dropping his shoulder under mine so he can lift me up. He carries me over to the bed and sets me down, allowing me to tuck myself in while he brings over the food and sits across from me.

"if my head didn't hurt so much I'd have a genuine thank you coming out of my mouth." I say before taking a chomp of the food and rolling my eyes at the absolutely amazing taste. Logan just laughs softly, taking his own bite and opening his eyes wide.

"Oh shit, this is really good." He says once he swallows, then his eyes peek up to mine with a tiny grin as he says, "and definitely not on my meal plan."

With the mix of my medication, the excess of magnesium in my system, the lavender, and a warm shower followed by good food, my migraine has edged off enough that I can enjoy this moment. We mostly eat in silence, even if I can tell Logan is worried. So I cock my head at him and furrow my brow, making him sigh,

"What happened today? Other than the race, I know the race stuff, but that wouldn't be worrying you because car failures are out of your control." Logan explains, making sure to keep his voice abnormally soft, "was Aakash rude on the radios again? Did something happen in Ferrari?"

"I..." letting out a long sigh I lean back into the bed cushions, "Well, yeah, I snapped at Aakash today. Ferrari wouldn't box me and I almost crashed like... four separate times. Luckily Lando or McLaren noticed something was up and had him back off."

Logan nods, listening along to every word I say.

"And then he kinda pissed me off with him being dismissive on the radio, and then cursing at me on the damn radio? And the FIA hasn't done anything about it. And then..."

I sigh, rubbing the side of my head that hurts and Logan leans back to grab the lavender oil and he pops it open to tap some along the insides of my wrists and the sides of my neck without me even asking. So I keep talking.

"And then I heard Charles and Fred talking and... and Fred said 'You are more important than some girl' to Charles and they've just been using me like Trident used Viscaal. Which is just..." I stare Logan dead in the eyes as I grumble, "so ironic."

"Jesus." Logan says after a beat, running his hand through his hair as he sets down his half empty salmon bowl on the bed to adjust how he's seated, "Okay, so, Ferrari's treating you like shit which is why you have this migraine, right? Nothing else?"

"Nothing else." I clarify, "everything else has been absolutely wonderful."

The 'even you' goes unsaid.

Logan laughs softly and rhen groans, running his hand through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling, "I'm sorry Aakash is being a dick, thats not cool of him. And for Fred to say that? I really hope he just messed up his words in translation."

"God, me too." I sigh, finishing off the last of my bowl and leaning across Logan to set it on the bedside. He sets his bowl in mine and then turns to help me get under the blankets so I can finally get some well deserved rest.

I can sense the tension in Logan, and take his hand, rubbing it like a massage as I murmur, "I know mentioning Trident makes this odd bubble of tension between us, and I'm sorry, but god now that I know how Viscaal must've felt I really feel like shit. Why did they make him do that..? What was even the point of crashing into you? We had like four races left in the season, I could've made up the points."

"Trident wanted their Renault fame." He shrugs, looking over at me as I barely poke out of the blankets, just my hands out to hold his.

“It’s probably stupid to bring it back up but I need you to know I genuinely had nothing to do with Viscaal and Trident.” I say and Logan sighs, adjusting the way he’s seated as he says,

“Let’s not ruin a nice moment.”

We talk for so long Logan ends up sleeping in the same bed as me. His arm is wrapped loosely around my waist as my head is tucked in the crook of his neck. It’s safe. It’s definitely not platonic, but it’s safe, and it’s what I need.

So far it's been:

Bahrain, P3,

Saudi, P5,

Australia, P8,

Japan, P4,

China, P7,

and now it's Miami, where I land a solid P10 after Carlos clearly attempts to knock me off the track entirely and runs me into the gravel. I have to fight for my way back up from P20, and Carlos gets himself and Red Bull a 10 second penalty for aggressive driving. I'm impressed with the run some of the back drivers give me (especially Haas and Alpine) but I'm frustrated in general with my finish, I had been doing so well I could’ve easily ended top three, but here I am scoring a singular point.

What could've been more is fucked over when Carlos in P4 swings purposefully wide and damages my front wing, knocking me off the track but not enough for me to fail to recover. We both have to box to check damages, and are both cleared to continue. Everyone can feel my anger in Ferrari, so Aakash doesn’t even bother with saying anything on the radio other than what he needs to.

When we finish, I pull up and wait for podium in the drivers room. I always go to support Charles, and I can tell it means a lot to him when he spots me in the crowd and a big grin pokes across his face.

He walks back to the paddock with me, an arm slung over my shoulder as we talk about anything but the race, and when we get back he excuses himself from the team to pull me into his drivers room.

"You alright?" Charles asks immediately, sitting on his PT bed and wiping his face off with a towel.

"I'm fine, but it's just-- ugh, It's not fair!" I complain to Charles as I pace the length of the tiny drivers room, "I don't know what he has against me!"

"Danny," Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Be proud of what you did accomplish today. Seriously, a wonderful ten place overtake in only seven or so laps! You did amazing tonight, even with that fuck up from Carlos."

"You've been podium every race except for Australia." I snip, whipping around so hard my braid whacks the side of my face, "What I would do to be able to get up there... it's just annoying some drivers have made it their agenda to get me off the track! Carlos has no reason to nearly knock me off the track multiple times today!"

"Carlos is frustrated Ferrari dropped him for you. He'll pretend to be amicable over at Red Bull but he's fucking miserable." Charles sighs, "Ferrari's been no help either, they've yet to pay him the rest of his contract."

—

Imola proves to be more difficult than I expected.

And everything is surprisingly going well.

“My steering is going out!” I curse, trying to stabilize myself—waiting for a red flag or a safety or something. Where the fuck is this safety car for the crash?

I steer too hard, clipping the front of Oscar’s tire on the slick of the still drying rain and spinning out. I feel the gravel as the car spins and then the world rocks when I hit the wall. I can't breathe for a moment, breath caught in my chest as I grip my seatbelts.

"Fuck." I whisper, groaning aloud as I try to blink my brain back into order. It's like someone's hit me in the gut. My first F1 crash, not a terrible one, but I hope I didn't also take Oscar out with me. As I catch my breath, I begin to adjust in my seat so I can get out. No one calls over the radio for a moment, and then,

"Dhanishka, is the car okay?"

"I'm gonna get them fined for this bullshit." Olivia mutters, helping me sit down on my bed. I don't reply as she hands me a change of clothes and then gives me a soft hug, the painkillers slowly kicking in and making my dull pain fade, but my migraine fights through. Because of course it does. Once I feel a bit better, I wave her off to go home and she reluctantly does after ensuring someone will swing by my hotel later to check on me. It ends up being Logan, because of course it is.

And my migraine flares when Aakash knocks, entering my room. He's still got his headphones on, and I bite back about thirty insults as he crosses his arms.

"Feel better?"

"No." I huff, "and your precious car is fine."

"Listen, we're pushing you because we need you to be a better driver." The mechanic looks at me, arms taught over his chest and I wish it was still Ami in charge of my comms.

“Dhanishka—“ Aakash tries and I whip around, pointing at him and watching his face fill with shock as I finally snap under the pressure of the weekend.

“[Charles was frustrated—]”

I cut Aakash off, screaming, “[And I nearly killed myself out there because none of you would help! Do you think I wasn’t also frustrated?!]”

“Listen, I—“

I just sit back and watch, like a movie goer, as the world around me fades in my mind.

taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic

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ryndicate · 1 year

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i'm just so in love with a drop in time... something about this fic is deeply sensual, you have me glued to my phone once i start a chapter. i just want to know so much more about e v e r y t h i n g. and reader and megumi haven't even really interacted aaaah. he is so him... yet there is this intense power imbalance and the whole blood match stuff argh. i am so so so curious. and i have to say it again: your gojo is so fucking hot. god, i love this fic

*snifffff* sends you the uno reverse of the pic you used bc thats what my face look like rn😅🥺🥺💞😭🥺💞

100% the boost I needed to open the draft for ch4 because this chapter is my mt everest istg.

I spent so much time on the build up, setting the tone and universe and now I need to start getting into the meat of the story and I'm losing my mind 🥲🥲💞 over how much you like it. And GOJO YES. I straight up love him so much for this series,, I know he's not the ML but he is so so significant to this story so I gave him all I got 😭 there is more coming from him, lots lots more!!

I can't wait for you to meet Megumi and your comments on your reblogs had me all giggly and huehuehue bc I know what's bout to happen and the thought of your reaction is pure fuel for me. I can't wait to post again and to see how you react!!

#elite loves:: ofallthingsnasty #series::ADiT

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scully1998 · 2 years

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when my dad read htn he did so very slowly (for him), he had to start over after a few chapters, he found a lot of it to be kind of a slog...i know someone who became so frustrated or bored with it that they never finished...i can in some way understand why this is the case, bc it is intentionally a rly confusing and disorienting book to read!

that being said however that was Not my experience the first time & it isnt my experience now...every time i pick it up, i find it almost impossible to put back down. it scratches SUCH an itch idk. i recall seeing a post on here a while back that was like "we can all admit that the first chunk of harrow the ninth is not good" and i was like speak for yourself cunt!!! like, it's challenging, AND it fucking rules!! i can Understand being bored or frustrated with it but i cannot actually relate at all. every new question or inconsistency makes me all the more eager to keep reading and figure out what's up.

i am reading it much more slowly/closely this time and so far i haven't noticed anything new per se but i am really appreciating the actual writing even more. it's vivid and gut wrenching. really struck by "the great black throat of space" as a description. chapter 3 is full of details that i am obsessed with, a favorite being how "she found the sight of her own unpainted face in the mirror impossibly wearisome, monstrous, and nonsensical, somehow faraway and yet heinously attached to herself." a bit from ch4 that i am rotating in my brain is "you yourself never had power over anyone else but you misused it violently." and, ofc, "in the hope of future forgiveness, i remained," is just devastating.

i love this book as like a really insane exciting puzzle of a story and also as a portrait of a relatably ill little shrimp of a dyke and kind of most of all as a discussion about grief in its various ugly forms.

anyway what im SUPPOSED to be doing is taking an online exam and then writing an english paper about a completely different unrelated book.

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softnow · 5 years

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paracosm [iii/?]

msr | college au | this chapter: t | words: 2k

she is a puzzle wrapped in high-waisted denim that he’s desperate to solve.

s/o to @o6666666 for continuing to love bb fox and dana as much as i do. also tagging @today-in-fic.

← last chapter. / ao3.

— — —

Fox Mulder is not—despite what some might think, judging by the company he keeps—hopeless with the ladies. He’s had his fair share of dates and kisses and, when the dates and the kissing have gone particularly well, warm bodies in his bed. Or his warm body in somebody else’s bed. Or, on one memorable and near-impossible occasion, the backseat of somebody else’s Volkswagen Beetle.

He even had Diana sophomore year—not his first girlfriend, but certainly his most serious. They had talked about grad school together and about the little apartment they’d rent above the private practice they would open someday. She had wanted to call it Fox & Fowley. He—infatuated but not dumb—had not. (This was, of course, before she took off for a semester abroad and never returned.)

All of this to say, he isn’t some sweaty preteen with his first crush.

And yet.

He can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Can barely focus in class. He’s up at seven—seven!—even on days he doesn’t have to be anywhere until noon, just so he can be at the library by eight.

“Dude,” Langly said last week after Mulder spent a good—oh—forty-five minutes talking about the clips Dana wore in her hair on Thursday. “You’ve got it bad.”

And he does. God, he does. He’s never had it so bad. He’s seen the inside of the library more in the last two weeks than he has in the last three years. He’s never been so late to so many classes so many times in a row. It’s just impossible—actually, factually impossible—to walk away from her when she’s leaning towards him on her elbows, whispering words like special relativity and time dilation and inertial frame of reference.

She’s a physics major—pre-med!—and she reads James Joyce and string theory for fun, and three days ago, she wore her hair in the smallest french braid he’s ever seen and how—how—is he supposed to walk away from that?

He lies awake at night and thinks about her. Every night. All night. About library Dana and her big, blue eyes and her freckles and her sweet little waist. His hands would fit so perfectly around that little waist, he’s certain. He needs to know. That, yes, but so much more.

Where is she from? The closest approximation he’s been able to get out of her is not here. Does she have brothers? Sisters? A boyfriend? God, he thinks he would die if she did. What’s her favorite food? Is she a morning person? A night person? Does she snore in her sleep? Does she kiss the same way she talks, deliberate and measured and smart? What is her damn last name?

It’s become a game now, he thinks. He hopes. He hopes it’s a game and that she’s playing it too, this keep away, this Dana, who are you? He asks her daily. She rebuffs him daily with her self-satisfied smirks, her little pink tongue darting out to greet her lips.

(He dreams about that tongue. He—more than dreams about that tongue. A few choice magazines are collecting dust in his bedroom because of that tongue.)

He’s even asked around, but nobody seems to know a freshman named Dana with a tiny nose and a dry wit and a berry-pink mouth. (God, the mouth.)

Frohike tells him to take it easy. “She’ll come around,” he says. But Frohike doesn’t understand. Mulder’s going crazy. All day, every day, twenty-four/seven, it’s Dana. Dana Dana Dana. His brain is a radio that only gets one station: all Dana, all the time. She is a puzzle wrapped in high-waisted denim that he’s desperate to solve.

Which is why, after two excruciatingly Dana-less days, he approaches her on Monday with a stack of books and a smile.

“Mulder,” she says cautiously, in much the same tone one might reserve for a child who has just wandered in with something unnerving, like a dead rat. Or a bomb. “What are you doing?”

He pushes the stack towards her. “Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that this was a library.”

“Uh-huh,” she says slowly. “I just didn’t think you—”

“What? Read?” He rests his elbows on the desk and shakes his head. “Maybe you’d know that if you’d have dinner with me. It’s half-price pizza at the bowling alley tonight. What’dya say?”

Dana sighs, then lifts her chin and holds out a hand.

“Card, please.”

He grins as he hands it over and watches her do her thing. Her script is neat and tiny as she copies his name and student number onto the first date card. She stamps it and moves on to the next. She’s on the third when she pauses, her brow knitting together. He tightens down on his smile and tries to look innocent as she sits back in her chair and crosses her arms.

“Mulder,” she says, and god, he could listen to her say his name all day, even exasperated like that. “What is this?”

He drums his fingers on the countertop. “What is what?”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, a wry expression that says she knows that he knows what she’s talking about. She holds up the first book and reads the cover.

“Iron Town by Dana Chamberlain.” Then the second: “Fundamentals of Ecology and Society by Dana Rankin.” Then the third, the fourth, the fifth: “Dana Graham. Dana Olson. Dana Earle. Is this your idea of cute?”

“My idea of cute is you in that sweater,” he says, because she’s wrapped in some fuzzy, grey, oversized number today that swallows her whole and presumably guards against the fan blowing cold air behind the desk. Then quickly, before she can protest, he continues: “This is my idea of practical. You won’t tell me your last name.” He shrugs. “Thought I’d test out some possibilities. How’d I do?”

She looks nonplussed, but as someone who has devoted nearly two whole weeks to studying her face, he feels relatively confident that the little tic at the corner of her mouth means she’s at least a little plussed.

“Are you serious?” she asks.

He nods. “About you? Absolutely.”

She flushes the prettiest pink and drops her gaze, toying with the ripped edge of the Dana Olson paperback.

“You don’t even know me,” she mumbles.

“And whose fault is that?” He leans in a little closer, trying to catch her eye. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not exactly an open book.”

He realizes this was the exact wrong thing to say a moment too late as her forehead wrinkles and her lips draw up into a tight pucker.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, slamming all the Dana books back into a pile. “I didn’t realize I owed you my whole life story. Do you need my original birth certificate, or will a copy be enough?”

She starts to slide from her chair, but he reaches out and catches her arm. Her face is red, and she doesn’t look at him.

“Whoa,” he says. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t…it’s not a bad thing.”

She continues to glare at the countertop, and he takes a chance. He swipes his thumb across the inside of her wrist once, back and forth.

“I like you, Dana,” he says, “but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. If I’ve been too pushy… I’m sorry, okay? Tell me to go, and I’ll go. You don’t owe me anything.”

She settles back into her seat and sniffs. For a brief, horrible second, he thinks he’s made her cry. But when she finally looks up, her eyes are dry and clear.

“Scully,” she says.

He cocks his head. “Sorry?”

“My last name is Scully.”

The relief, the giddiness that floods him nearly knocks him off his feet. This is what winning the lottery must feel like. Dana (Scully!) brushes a little curl behind her ear and gives him an uncertain smile.

“Scully,” he says, liking the way it rolls around on his tongue. “Dana Scully.”

She nods. “Yes.”

“You wanna get some lunch, Dana Scully? My treat. You can tell me absolutely nothing about yourself. You don’t even have to talk. We can sit in total silence and pretend we’ve never met.”

She narrows her eyes at him but they’re playful, maybe even a little impish.

“Don’t push your luck,” she says.

But when he comes back half an hour later with turkey sandwiches and potato chips and two bottles of lemonade, she doesn’t kick him out. She also doesn’t kick him out when he follows her outside to the picnic tables behind the library, and she continues to not kick him out as she picks one in the shade of a big oak tree. He watches (with what he hopes isn’t slack-jawed amazement) as she pulls her fuzzy sweater over her head to reveal a little blue t-shirt and pale, smooth arms, and still, she doesn’t kick him out.

They sit on the same side of the table and watch other students lounge in the grass, toss frisbees, eat their own lunches. A warm September breeze ruffles Mulder’s hair, and occasionally, Dana’s knee brushes his thigh. He tries not to choke at the contact, electric even through his jeans.

True to his word, they don’t talk, but he eats slower than ever, savoring the nerve-wracking feeling of her next to him, the occasional touch of her elbow as she reaches for her drink. It turns out they don’t really need to speak anyway. She teaches him things even in total silence.

For example: when she finishes her chips, she steals the rest of his. She doesn’t ask permission; she simply watches him from the corner of her eye as she dips her fingers into the bag. He files food thief away in his mental rolodex of Dana facts and nudges the bag closer to her. (She also doesn’t say thank you, but the way she licks salt from her fingertips is thanks enough.)

When all the food is gone, they linger a little while longer, sipping the last of their lemonade. Beside him, she is serene, her eyes heavy-lidded, her face tipped up into the breeze. He wants to ask what she’s thinking about, but he bites his tongue. He promised her a silent lunch. He needs her to know he means what he says.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity or maybe only a minute, the black plastic Casio on her left wrist beeps. Lunchtime over.

Dana stands and does a little stretch. Her t-shirt rides up, baring an inch of milky white stomach, and Mulder is suddenly, painfully aware of the blood in his veins. He forces himself to look away. The last thing he needs is to ruin whatever modicum of progress he’s made this afternoon by ogling her belly.

He stares off into the middle distance until she begins gathering her things. She drapes her sweater over her arm and balls up her trash. After a moment’s hesitation, she takes his trash, too, and dumps it all in the nearest garbage can. Then she wanders back and hovers at the edge of the table, touching the corner with her fingertips.

“Um,” she says. “Okay. Well…”

Her cheeks are pink—though from what, he’s not sure.

“Thank you for lunch,” he says, and she flushes darker.

“You bought it.”

He just shrugs. “You know what I mean.”

She licks her bottom lip, then draws it between her teeth. He tries—really, he does—not to stare.

“I need to…” She gestures vaguely over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, not rising. As much as he wants to follow her back inside and whisper to her for the rest of the afternoon, something tells him to take her earlier advice and not push his extraordinary luck any further.

“Okay.” She raps her knuckles lightly on the table and holds his gaze for a moment longer, then heads for the doors.

The sway of her hips is enchanting, and he can’t help himself.

“Hey, Dana Scully,” he calls.

She pauses and turns around, eyebrow quirked. “Yeah?”

“Okay if I come see you tomorrow?”

She purses her lips (against a smile, he thinks) and begins walking backwards.

“I dunno,” she says with a little shrug. “Guess you’ll have to ask me then.”

#fox mulder #dana scully #msr #msr fanfic #txf #myfic #paracosm #i said i wasn't releasing this until i was done with ch4 #i haven't even started ch4 #but it's been a week and i'm trying to keep to some kind of schedule #so #here you go #thank u for being patient #and also for leaving such wonderful comments on this story so far #i'm glad other people are loving bb dana and fox as much as i love them #mulder #scully

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