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alvojake · 5 months

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The Murder House | Masterlist & Intro ⏃

↳ this is inspired by an ask from the lovely @addictedtohobi

「parings」 : enha x fem!reader

「synopsis」 : it was halloween season once again, and your brother begged you and your friends to go to this new hit escape room that just came into town; the only problem? you hated going to them almost as much as you hated waking up early in the morning. however, being the good friend and sister you were you went with them. you expected cheesy props, dumb riddles and questions, and a rigged room, so you couldn't get out even if you got the right answers. what you weren't expecting was being drugged and waking up in a room with a dead body and separated from all of your friends.

「genre」 : horror/thriller, gore, angst, psychological thriller, mystery

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, heavy gore, blood, murder, mentions of suicide, cussing, death, manipulation, mentions of being drugged, toxic behavior, reader is speculated to be an 03' liner, trauma bonding, other specific warnings on individual parts.

𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

「taglist」 : CLOSED

↳ a/n: I have decided to make this into a short series because I just know trying to write one long fic won't suffice, so I am making it into separate parts! I am super excited to see what you guys think so far and to hear all of your theories. don't forget to read the intro at the bottom!! I will be figuring out release dates for all of the parts at a later time, but they will all be subject to change depending on multiple factors! also, if you were on the taglist located on the wip post, then you are still on there, so don't worry! with that being said you will only be added to the taglist if you are 18+ and your age is visible on your page. if you don't meet either of those criteria, you will be ignored.

「start」 : May 8th, 2024 「end」 : June 20th, 2024

「synopsis」 : after waking up trapped in a room with a dead body, you are saved by none other than heeseung, but you're still left with questions. why were you and your friends trapped there, and who is behind it all? though it would seem that you won't be getting your answers very easily and definitely not without a few losses. 「word count」 : 10.2k 「warnings」 : blood, dead body, cussing, mentions of murder, mind games, drugging, mentions of mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, etc...), jungwon is kinda reckless, lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : with everyone's lives on the line will luck be on your side? except it seems like whoever trapped you here doesn't plan on letting any of you leave that easy... suspicion is rising and trust is starting to falter, but can you save everyone and bust whoever put you and your friends through this hell? or will you have to watch all of your friends die? 「word count」 : 11.3k 「warnings」 : cussing, spiders/bugs, water, blood, mentions of betrayal, arguments, mentions of claustrophobia & arachnophobia/entomophobia, mentions of spider venom, life or death situations, more mind games, mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, breakdowns, etc...), (some tags will be hidden as to not spoil the story!) 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : everything seems to be going downhill at a rapid pace and nothing is going right and you've already suffered the loss of two friends, but the mastermind behind this doesn't seem to be satisfied just yet. another test is thrown your way but things are starting to become more clear and you're realizing that the culprit has been with you the whole time... but will you be able to stop him and escape this hell house with your lives intact? 「word count」 : 10.5k 「warnings」 : cussing, even more 'games', blood, violence, gore, gun goes pew pew, poisoning, betrayal, gaslighting, familial issues, mentions of abuse (mental & physical), knife goes stabby, threats, death, obsessive/stalker-ish behavior, mental health disorders, even more betrayal, traumatic events, police, pls lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : it's been a few weeks since you managed to escape from the murder house, but it's not quite over yet. your brother's trial was right around the corner and everything is brought back to the table. after he's found guilty and sent to prison you are determined to find out some answers, though you aren't sure if you'll like what he has to say.... 「word count」 : 6.2k 「warnings」 : cussing, petnames (my love, love...), kissing, court trial, sister complex, familial issues, mentions of abuse (mental & physical), obsessive behavior, threats, mentions of death, gaslighting, lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

“Come on, y/n. We never get the chance to do this!” Riki whined as he draped his taller frame over your back, causing you to slouch forward. You let out an annoyed huff, letting your hands fall to your lap. Your phone slid from your fingers as you tilted your head to look back at your brother.

“Riki, how many times have I told you that I hate going to things like that?” You pushed back against him, causing the boy to fall dramatically back on the couch. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your discarded phone off the ground, Riki watching you with a pout.

“You watch too many horror movies,” he grumbled, remembering all the nights you would watch horror movies only to have some new-found fear afterward, even if it was something completely unnecessary.

You dropped your phone once more before glaring up at your brother, “ya know, there is always some truth to them.”

“y/n, please. They are just movies. Complete fiction. Ghosts aren’t real.” Riki rolled his eyes, picking at the loose strings of the couch cushion.

“Even rumors stem from some kind of truth, Riki.” You huffed out, but it didn’t seem like your brother would stop pestering you until you finally gave in. So after hours of continuously asking and begging, you finally gave in to him, telling him that you would ask your friends only if he brought his own.

And he agreed.

When that dreadful night finally came, you were stuck in a car with all of your friends. The crisp October air was cold on your skin, but the heating in the vehicle that Jay had turned on was enough to leave you comfortable. Jake had some random playlist filling the speakers jamming out in the passenger seat while Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung were crammed into the far back of the SUV, all three on the brink of passing out from how long the drive was.

“I thought you said this place was in town, Riki.” You grumbled, flexing your jaw, trying to ease the discomfort from having it placed on your hand as you stared mindlessly out the car window. However, now that it was fully dark outside, there wasn’t much to look at, seeing that there were no streetlights.

“I mean, the address said it was in town; how was I supposed to know it was in the ass crack of it?” Riki sassed as he scrolled through his phone, looking at whatever was posted on social media.

“Language, dude.” Jay scolded the boy, his eyes staring at him through the rearview mirror.

“Korean, what else?”

Pursing your lips, you reached over and landed a smack on the back of his head, resulting in him letting out a groan as his head fell forward.

“What was that for?!” Riki exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he looked over at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t be such a smart ass.” You scolded him, and Riki grumbled before showing Sunoo something on his phone.

Shaking your head, you lean forward, resting your arms on the back of Jay’s seat, “How much longer do we have to go?”

Jay quickly glanced at you from the rearview mirror, much like he did Riki, before glancing down at the GPS on his dash.

"It's saying we have about ten or so minutes left until we get there." He told you before putting his eyes back on the road.

It was then that you started to notice just how desolate the surrounding area was. If this was such a hit attraction, why weren't any other cars around? Or any kind of sign of life. It was starting to give you the creeps. However, you just reminded yourself that you were doing this for your brother and that it was probably just your imagination playing tricks on you. So you just tried to relax, sitting back in your seat once more, eyes staring out at the blackness of the trees.

That feeling of unease only grew more once Jay pulled into the driveway, and you noticed that there wasn’t a single car in sight. You pulled your seatbelt off slowly, eyes searching everywhere, trying to find anything to settle this unnerving feeling that was twisting in your gut. As you opened the door, welcoming the chilling air outside, goosebumps littered your skin.

“Come on, y/n, get out. My legs are cramping!” Riki complained, pushing on your shoulder and urging you to leave the vehicle.

With a shaky sigh, you slowly let your foot fall to the ground, your knees feeling like jelly. Jay stepped out of the car, pocketing the keys before looking over at you. His eyebrows scrunched together, taking in the uneasy expression on your face.

“Hey, y/n, are you okay?” he asked, softly taking your arm and pulling you away from the open door so everyone else could pile out.

“Yeah, it’s just…” You trailed on as your eyes caught sight of the small sign that was hammered into the ground.

The Murder House

You could have sworn that you felt your heart stop. What kind of douchebag names their escape room that? As if the air around you wasn’t suffocating enough, seeing that only made it feel like you were fighting for your breath.

“Sunoo, you’re in the back on the way home.” Heeseung groans as he stretches out, his joints groaning in protest. Sunoo just gave the older male the side eye before moving to stand on the other side of Jake, who had just gotten out of the car.

“Riki, I thought you said this was a hit attraction.” You looked over at your brother, who was inspecting the area much like you were until his eyes landed on you. “Why is there no one here?”

“Calm your tits, sis. I’m sure we just came on a night that no one else wanted to?” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that just means we won’t get stuck with some randos.” Heeseung shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Come on, y'know, we didn't come all this way just to chicken out," Jungwon grumbled, tossing his hair with his fingers.

You curled your lips inward, knowing that they were right and that you were just thinking too much about the situation. Crossing your arms over your chest, you nodded your head in silent agreement. Jay wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze, ignoring the prying eyes that were on the two of you.

“Don’t let it get to you too much, okay? We’ll just get it over with, and if anything, we just let the timer go out.” He whispered softly in your ear, and the warmth of his breath eased your mind slightly.

“You’re right, I’m just overthinking.” You gave him a small smile before following after him and the others.

“God damn, Riki, why did we have to walk all the way up here?” Sunghoon huffed as all of you reached the steps of the porch.

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was right because that was a pretty lengthy walk uphill. All of the guys nodded in agreement before Jake walked further up the step, trying to see if you were able to get in. He then noticed a welcome sign hanging from the door, with a small basket underneath holding a piece of paper.

“It looks like we got some instructions, boys and girls,” Jake exclaimed with a broad smile, turning with the paper held high.

You looked at him uneasily as he unfolded it with a flourish and started reading it out loud so everyone could hear.

‘You will have two hours to uncover the grand mystery and escape the murder house. You will find clues and puzzles, but be careful, for everything isn’t as it seems… Good luck!’

A shiver ran down your spine as he finished reading. You weren't sure whether it was the chilling breeze that swept through or the cryptic words of the note. However, you did know that it wasn't just your mind messing with you; there was something deeply wrong with this place.

“Hey guys, this seems really weird. Maybe we should just go.” You voiced your concern, earning yourself a collection of groans from the guys.

“Oh, come on, y/n. Stop being such a negative Nancy and have some fun for once in your life.” Jake rolled his eyes, his hands falling to his side.

Your jaw clenched shut, and a glare adorned your features before you leaned forward, snatching the paper out of his hands.

“You’re such an asshole, Jake.” The words tumbled out quietly as you reread the same message that Jake had just read aloud, trying to see if there was anything else that he had missed.

“Yeah, yeah.” The brunette rolled his eyes before going on to complain about how thirsty he was and how he was sure that they would have drinks for sale or something inside. Then, without another word, he opened the door despite the multiple protests from you and a few others.

“Jake, you can’t just walk in like you own the place!” You exclaim, hands slapping against your thighs as he disappears around the corner.

Letting out a huff, you step past the threshold, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that started to settle into your bones before going in the direction you saw Jake go, everyone trailing after you.

You walked into the foyer with a groan as you saw the older male chugging down a water bottle, some of it trickling down his chin before catching on his shirt. Your eyes then trail over to a tray that sat in the center of the table, six other bottles neatly placed inside.

“Jake, you can’t just take shit that’s not yours!” You scolded him, which only caused him to stop drinking, a gasp leaving his lips as he pulled the bottle away.

Riki then walked past you, looking down at the table and seeing some kind of note. Taking it, he held it up so everyone could see.

Free refreshments!

“The host probably just sat them out for people to take.” Riki shrugged, setting the paper back down on the table before grabbing a bottle for himself.

Your stomach turned as you watched him unscrew the cap, “we can’t just trust drinks that are given to us by some random strangers.”

Heeseung then moves past you, his arm brushing yours, before grabbing one of the bottles. He inspected it for a few seconds before meeting your gaze.

"It's still sealed; there's no way someone tampered with it," he explained before twisting the cap open and swallowing a few drinks.

“Weren’t you the one complaining about being thirsty in the car?” Riki raised an eyebrow at you, and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but-” “But what, just drink the water, it’s not like you’re gonna die.” Riki quipped, causing your jaw to tighten. You knew he was right; you had been complaining about not bringing an extra drink for the road, but you weren’t quite sure if you were thirsty enough to drink some random water given out by a stranger. However, the dry feeling in your throat was telling you otherwise, so with some hesitation, you took the bottle Jay was handing you before twisting the cap off and bringing it to your lips; the liquid instantly quenched your dying thirst.

After everyone got a much-needed drink, they all needed you all gathered around the coffee table. You, Heeseung, and Jay were on the long couch while Sunoo, Niki, and Jake cramped on the loveseat, leaving the armchair for Sunghoon, Jungwon perched on the armrest.

“So… when does this game start?” Sunoo asked, leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice that the room was neatly decorated and clean, yet there was no sign of anyone being there.

Heeseung then leaned forward to grab something sitting on the table, catching everyone’s attention. He flipped it around, trying to find any indication of what it was, but nothing was written on the outside, so he opened the flap and pulled out the papers inside.

“It’s more instructions,” he explains as he starts to read them aloud. It says that as soon as the… the… sorry, I just feel really lightheaded.” He mumbles, shaking his head while squeezing his eyes shut, trying to stabilize his vision.

"Hee man, are you good?" Jay asked, putting a hand on the older male's shoulder, and Heeseung just nodded.

“Yeah, I just…” Heeseung’s words slurred as he started to sway, his eyes drooping.

Panic started to set in your chest as you noticed that Heeseung looked like he was on the brink of passing out. Just then, Jungwon slumped to the side, falling right into Sunghoon’s lap, causing him to start calling out the boy’s name.

You quickly stood to your feet to check on him, but you fell back into your seat just as soon as you stood, your vision swimming. However, as you looked around, you noticed that all of the boys were either slumped over or on the brink of passing out.

Worry then etched itself into your bones when your hazy vision landed on your brother's motionless form. You opened your mouth to call out for him and tried to get your body to move, but it wouldn't respond, and no words left your lips. Then everything seemed to fade, and your body grew weaker and weaker until you fell to the side, your head resting against Jay's back before everything went black.

Your body shot up with a gasp, and your ears rang so loud you could have thought it was coming from some kind of speaker. However, as it started to die down to a dull shrill, you realized that it was just you.

Looking around, you felt a chill run down your spine. You couldn’t see a thing. The room was shrouded in darkness, with not a single light in sight. Panic then started to set in as the earlier events started to play in your head.

Where was your brother? Or your friends? What caused you all to black out?

So many questions started filling your brain, some overlapping others as you fumbled to get to your feet. You blinked multiple times, trying to fully stabilize your vision and to see in the darkness.

A scream escaped from your lips as you tripped over something, landing in some kind of liquid. Your heartbeat roared in your ears as you hurriedly tried to get to your feet, the ringing in your ears growing louder.

Scrambling to your feet, you reach out in front of you, trying to find the wall, and as soon as you do, you start searching for the light switch. With shaky hands, you felt around the wall until you felt the switch. Letting out a relieved sigh, you flipped it, allowing the room to flood with light.

You looked up with a smile before remembering that your hands were still covered in whatever you had fallen into. Your gaze then fell down to your hands, only for the smile to be wiped away and your eyes to go wide.

Blood. Your palms were covered in blood.

Your stomach turns the urge to throw up very strong; dread then fills your veins as you slowly turn around. A high-pitched scream leaves your lips as your eyes are set upon the body of a man, blood pooling all around him.

Fear clouded your brain as you quickly turned back around to open the door. Rushing over to the wooden door, you wrapped your hands around the knob, hoping that it would turn. But it didn’t.

The door was locked, and you were trapped.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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fangirl-dot-com · 10 months

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Alex Albon ft. Lily - Karma

Aaahhhhh, welcome to part 5 of this series! Now this one takes place farther into the season. But, I wanted to publish this series as one, instead of doing separate chapters for when they happened after races. This one is going to take place leading up to the Silverstone Grand Prix! So the July 3-ish (Austria is July 2 and Silverstone is July 9, so the week in between). As of this chapter, reader now has three different couples who would absolutely do ANTYHING for her.

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]

“Are you for real?” you muttered to yourself as you looked at your mismatched luggage. You really needed to ask Lando if he could get you some new suitcases with that fancy company he has a partnership with. And someone had tried to get into your suitcase, because you noticed the latch had a few scratches on it. You’d definitely be calling the airline later. Max was right, you should have just flown in with him on Air-Max.

Definitely next time.

At least you had all of your luggage. You were still standing next to the carousel when another small bag caught your eye. For some reason, the tag also had your name on in. You carefully grabbed the bag with mesh windows and looked at it. This was definitely not yours. You stepped away from the area and took a seat on a bench. You placed the bag on your lap and unzipped it. Your eyes widened at the sight.

Inside was a large, fluffy cat. Big eyes stared up at you as you stared back. Your head leaned to the side, and it’s head followed you. Your hand bolted to your phone in your pocket. You needed to call the number one cat-dad.

The phone rang for a few before, and before Max had an opportunity to answer, you voice flooded the air.

“Max, I have a cat and I don’t know what to do with it!”

Max paused for a bit on the line.

“Hello?”

“I heard you kid. Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport?”

You huffed. “I am. But when I was getting my bags, this carrier-thing had a tag with my name on it. I opened it and there’s a cat inside! I’m too young to be a mother.”

“Y/n,” you could image him pinching his brow.

“I had a goldfish once and he died three days later.” You were starting to freak out.

“Take a deep breath.” You did as instructed. “Ok, here’s what you’re going to do. First, does the cat have any identification on it?”

You reached in and carefully parted the cat’s fur. On his neck was a little collar with a pendent that had a figure of a horse. Other than that though, there was nothing.

You spoke into the phone, “No. It doesn’t.”

Max sighed on the other line. “When I fly in, I will meet you at your flat and we’ll see what we can do. Are you being picked up at the airport?”

“No. I have to go get my car. Someone brought it last night so I could drive to my flat by myself for a few days before the race.”

“That’s nice kid. When I get in, I’ll call and come over. Kelly has been wanting to see your flat for a while. Something about her promising you that she’ll help you decorate the rest of it? Can’t believe you didn’t ask me.”

You deadpanned, even if he couldn’t see it. “Max, you display your championship trophy on your Red Bull mini fridge. You have no interior design instincts.”

He sputtered over the phone, before he was interrupted on the other side. “Ok kid. I’ll see you when I get there. Houd van je geitje.” (Translation : Love you kid)

“Love you too. Have a safe flight.” You hung up and looked back down at the cat, who seemed to be more wide awake. “Hi bud.” Your hand reached under its face and scratched lightly. The cat started to purr lightly.

You stood up after you re-zipped the carrier. Luckily, it had a shoulder strap so that your two hands could be free to get your suitcase and keys. “Ok cat, let’s get going.”

You started to make your way to the pickup car line. Thankfully, there weren’t too many people there. You walked right up to the counter. You gave the nice lady your name and ID so that she could get your keys for you.

As you waited, your mind drifted to your semi-new vehicle. You had finally decided what car you actually wanted, so Christian, Vito, and Max had decided to come with you for the purchase. You, of course, had matching cars. One for Monaco and one for London. Lando had begged you to get a Jolly like he had, but you wanted something a little more classy.

Your dark green Porsches were your children.

Unlike Max, you didn’t want to necessarily buy a car that “supported” a rival team. You were tempted with one of the new Audi models, but the two Porsches just screamed at you. It had taken a while to get approved, but they had finally become yours about two months ago. The one you kept in Monaco was an older, classier model. The one you had in London was a bit more flashy with its convertible top.

As you were daydreaming about driving your beloved car once again, two people had come into the room. And one of them did not sound happy.

“What do you mean our hotel has been canceled. Yes I know we still have the nights for the two days closer, but not for the next two! Where are we supposed to stay? Also, has there been any news on Horsey?” The man sighed, and sounded like he was choking back a sob. “Ok, please keep me updated.”

Your curiosity got the better of you. Turning your head, your eyes landed on one British-Thai Williams driver and his amazing golfer-girlfriend. You decided to be friendly, and a bit nosey.

“Hi Alex,” you almost whispered.

His and Lily’s head whipped up at your voice. He was able to shoot you a small smile.

“Uh, is everything ok?” you prodded.

Alex’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find words. When he couldn’t, Lily spoke up for the two of them.

“Well, our hotel was canceled and we really can’t find a place go figure. And the airline somehow lost Horsey.”

You cocked your head. “How does an airline lose a whole horse?” The two of them giggled.

Alex finally spoke up, “Logan thought that Horsey was an actual horse the first time as well. Horsey is actually my cat.”

Your eyes bulged. You were about to speak when the nice lady returned with your keys. You quickly thanked her before walking closer to the couple. You gestured for them to follow you. Once the three of you were outside, you parked you suitcase before pulling the carrier closer.

“So, I’m thinking that he’s actually yours then.” You handed the carrier over. You had never seen Alex act as quickly as he did. He gently placed the small bag on the floor and unzipped the top. Horsey’s head popped out and he meowed loudly at the sight of his owner. Alex scooped him up and brought him close to his face.

You continued, “Somehow, he had one of my name tags on his bag. I’m glad that Max now doesn’t have to help me find where he’s supposed to go.” You offered a small smile as your hand now rested on the top of your suitcase handle.

Alex now had a bright smile. “Thank you so much. I was devastated when I couldn’t find him. The airline swore that he was on the flight. I guess he just got a bit misplaced.” He turned to Lily. “Now what are we going to do about the hotel situation.”

Lily got out her phone and started to scroll; Alex’s head was leaned over, trying to see the screen. An idea popped into your head.

You spoke up, “Well, my flat has a guest bedroom and my car is big enough to hold the luggage.” You shrugged as you pointed in what you hoped was the direction of your Porsche.

Lily shook her head, “We don’t want to intrude.”

Your hands waved in front of you. “Nonsense. I invited first. And besides, a friend of Logan’s is a friend of mine.”

Alex looked shy as he smiled, “Well if you don’t mind. It would only be for a night or two!” He quickly added that last bit. Redness flushed his embarrassed face.

“Perfectly fine. I think Max and Kelly are coming over tomorrow if that’s ok,” you asked as you made your way to the car, Alex and Lily followed.

“Y/n. It’s your flat, we don’t care.” You popped the trunk and struggled to get your suitcase in. Stupid clothes. Alex quickly shoved the fur ball into your arms and took yours and Lily’s suitcases. The two of you smiled at each other as you also watched Alex struggle.

“What did you both pack in here?”

“Clothes,” your voices sounded at the same time. A smirk was shared as the trunk finally was able to be closed. You handed the cat back to Alex as you opened your door. Lily climbed into the passenger seat, while Alex took up the back row with Horsey.

You carefully turned your car on, and it rumbled to life. You slowly backed out of the parking space, turned, and headed to the exit. As you stopped at the stop sign, your finger pressed the button for the top to fold back. As soon as your car was outside the garage, the sun seemed to fill up the extra space around your group.

As you drove to your flat, you mentioned, “Lily, you can play some music if you’d like to.”

She swiped up on her phone and connected it to the Bluetooth. “Any song you want to listen to?”

You thought for a moment. What song could you choose and not be embarrassed to death. Lily seemed like a T-Swizzle woman.

“Uh, how about Karma by Taylor Swift?” You thought that Lily would be the excited one, but a gasp from Alex had your eye brows raised.

Lily rolled her eyes, “Alex is such a swiftie.”

It was your turn to gasp, “I say when we’re all together, us, Daniel, and Lando need to go to a concert together.”

“Lando is Swiftie?”

“A closeted one, but a swiftie none-the-less. I think Charles is one too.”

Alex also added, “George is one as well.”

“Shut up. I love that. Go Carmen.” Lily finally took this opportunity to sing. You rolled the dial for the volume and turned it up. As the car flew down the street, the three of you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“Karma is a cat!” Alex held Horsey up in the middle.

“Purring in my lap cause he loves me,” Lily say along. You had been able to put your sunglasses on. You felt cool. Look at you, hanging out with adults. If Max could see you now.

The drive to your flat wasn’t a long one and you got there quickly. As the car came to a stop under the covered walkway, your doorman came out to meet you.

“Hi Richard,” you sweetly said to the older man. He wasn’t like grandpa old, more like Christian-old.

“Welcome back ma’am. I see you’ve brought visitors?” He gazed at the driver and golfer.

“Yes sir. They’re staying for a couple of days. Something went wrong with their hotel.” By now, Lily had been given Horsey and Alex was working on getting the luggage out.

“Glad to see that you’ve taken Mr. Verstappen’s advice.” Richard smiled at you.

You scoffed. “Max just thinks that I have no friends.”

Richard replied, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you really don’t.” You heard Alex laugh behind you. Your eyes squinted at the Thai.

“I will leave you down here.” Alex looked worried for a bit before Richard started to laugh. “Richard I don’t pay you enough to laugh at me.”

“Y/n, you don’t pay me.”

“I know. All right folks, let’s go upstairs.” You took your suitcase from Alex and hauled it behind you. Richard always so kindly parked your car for you. Something about how he didn’t want you to have to walk from the parking area to the door.

The elevator was filled with a comfortable silence. You quickly sent a text to Max to explain the situation. He and Kelly were already planning to stay at a hotel nearby. Your flat was open to them if they didn’t want to sit in the room.

The elevator doors opened and you led the pair to your door. You looked over fondly at Logan’s door as you unlocked your own. You would have invited him over as well, but he wasn’t getting in until later.

Once the lock had clicked, you opened the door and was met with the scent that was undeniably you. The warm hints of vanilla and cinnamon wafted around the space. You were so glad that the automatic air freshener had kept working while you were gone. Your apartment in Nice never smelled the best, and it was so depressing to come back to.

“Welcome to mi casa, that’s French for front door.” You channeled you inner George Russell and held your hands out wide, showing off your living room. The pair just looked at you a bit strangely. You put your hands back down. “That’s actually not French, uh, Arthur and Charles would have my head.”

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but it’s too late to change anything. “Uh, I can show you the room? It’s not decorated the best, but there’s a pretty big bed and closet space.” You turned around to start walking down the hallway. They followed you closely.

Once you opened the room, the two gasped. You winced, thinking that it was a bad one.

“Y/n this is so lovely,” Lily told you, putting her hand on your shoulder.

You beamed at the praise.

“Thank you,” you shyly muttered. Alex still had a look of shock and awe as he stepped into the room. You think that the big window helped bring the room in a lot.

“You need to tell me how you decorated this,” Lily spoke as she looked around the room. You rubbed the back of your neck.

“Well, Kelly helped me a lot. And I spent a questionable amount of time on Pinterest. The rest of the house still needs some help, but the bedrooms were the easiest to get done.”

“It looks great,” Alex finally found his voice.

“Thank you. You two are welcome to look around. I’m going to go unpack and take a shower. Did you two want to go to dinner? Or we can stay in and I can make something?”

The girlfriend and boyfriend looked at each other, silently communicating. Finally Lily broke eye contact and looked at you.

“If you don’t mind, and if it’s no trouble, we’d like to stay in.”

“You two both agreed with that by looking into each other’s eyes?” They nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll go to the store after.”

Lily offered to go with you and you happily accepted. The minute you got to your room, you allowed yourself to breathe. You shot a quick text to the group chat with you, Max, and Kelly.

Little Racer:

Hey, so we made it and I’m making dinner tonight Do you two want to join?

Big Racer:

Sure kid. We land in a few hours. Just let us know when you want us to come over!

The Better Half:

Hi sweetie, sounds good. Are we still on to go out tomorrow?

Little Racer:

Max you still need to learn how to not type with punctuation Yep I’m all good! Also, Lily and Alex are staying with me for a bit, could I invite her as well?? Max and Alex can do something manly

Big Racer:

eXcUsE mE? Interior design is manly enough

Little Racer:

*Blink* sure

The Better Half:

Max, I love you, but your apartment is terrible We’ll talk more about it at dinner See you then Y/n <;3

Little Racer:

Bye Kellyyyyy <3 Bye Max

Big Racer:

Why does SHE get a heart and not me :( See you soon kid

You placed your phone down on your charger and got clothes for after your shower. You didn’t want to take long, as there were guests that you needed to entertain. You just stuck to the basics to get the stale airplane air off of your skin. You’d feel better once you smelled like yourself. You changed right after, not caring about your wet hair.

You were pleased to see the two on your couch. You worried that they might have felt as though they needed to wait for your instruction. You grabbed your cross body bag and your sneakers.

“Lily will you be ready to go in the next few? Also, Max and Kelly might come back while we’re gone, so Alex could you let them in?” Alex gave you a nod and Lily let you know that she was ready whenever you were. You slipped your shoes on and headed for the door, Lily was right behind you.

You had texted Richard beforehand that you were coming down soon. It was nice to see your car waiting for you. Richard held the keys on his finger that you took as you passed. You have him a quick thanks and tipped him well. He had told you time and time again that he was paid more than enough, but you never listened. You weren’t stingy with the people who were good to you.

The trip to the store was uneventful. You were thankful that Lily was with you so that she could buy some adult drinks that your ID would not be enough for. The plan for the meal was simple enough. Something that could cater to your, Max’s, and Alex’s diets without any one of your trainers getting onto you.

When you got back, you noticed an unfamiliar car in the front. You shrugged at the sight, knowing it was probably Max and Kelly’s rental for the first few days. As you opened the door, you could hear Alex and Max talking wildly. You rolled your eyes.

“Wow, thanks guys for the offer to help with the groceries. Real nice.” The two immediately shot up and you laughed. Alex took Lily’s bags while Max took yours. Kelly stood up to give you a hug.

“Hi Y/n,” she said, bringing you into her arms. You squeezed tight. It had been a while since you’ve seen her outside of “work.”

After you let go, Kelly reached over to give Lily a hug as well. Seeing the two women in conversation, you made your way to the kitchen.

“Kid, your lack of Red Bull in your fridge is disturbing,” Max said once he saw you.

“Was that a Star Wars quote?” you asked, giving him a hug.

“Possibly.” He shot you a sneaky smile. By your legs, Horsey had started to rub up against you. You leaned down to pet him.

“I think he likes you,” Alex said in a sing-song voice. You just scoffed as you pet him.

“Everyone likes me.” Now that earned you a scoff from Max. You looked up at him and raised your eyebrow. “Name one person who doesn’t.”

“Marko?” Max questioned with a wince.

“False. He texted me early and said that we need to get brunch this weekend. You’re losing your spot as Red Bull’s golden child.” Max only responded with an eye roll.

Alex thought hard as well. “Uh, there’s that one journalist who seems to hate you. What’s his name again?”

You rolled your eyes at the mention, “Louise Tynker. Mans has made it his mission to get me to say the wrong things. Like last week he asked if I thought Daniel should have taken Checo’s seat instead of me.”

Max smirked, “And what did you tell him?” He took a sip from his drink.

“I told him that Daniel is a great driver, but Christian made a decision to put me in the seat instead. Sorry that I didn’t know I was in the running for even being considered to take the seat.”

“And what did you say after that?” Oh.

You exhaled a laugh, “I told him that his microphone might get more juicy answers if he got it out of his ass.”

“That’s my kid.” Max raised a hand and you hit it. Alex’s eyes were wide at the confession of the story before he started to laugh as well. You quickly got the dinner ready, and before you knew it everyone was enjoying themselves at your table.

As you picked at your food, you decided to ask, “So do you two want to come with us to look at decorations or do you want to just stay here?”

Lily groaned, “Alex has no design skills.” Alex gawked at her.

Kelly spoke up too, “Same with Max. Y/n are you sure you wanted to invited them?” All eyes were on you and you shrank back into your chair.

“Uh. He can’t be worse than Max?”

Max squawked in his seat, trying to come up with an argument.

Lily cut into her dish, “Trust me, he is. He put all of his trophies in the laundry room.”

You looked over at him, “Alex, you know trophies are supposed to be displayed on mini fridges, not washers and dryers.”

“Hey! Leave my championship trophy and mini fridge alone. You can’t talk cause you don’t have one.”

You quickly pointed to your F2 championship trophy in the beautiful display case that was the centerpiece in your living room. You raised an eye brow. “Wanna try again?”

“Trophies don’t belong on mini fridges.”

You looked at Alex.

“And not on washers and dryers.”

You, Lily, and Kelly all hummed in agreement before getting back to the conversation. Tomorrow would be hectic, but you’d have fun.

Hopefully.

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formulaforza · 1 year

Text

—strawberry wine

and all the times we used to have. (nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft). pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: language, angst babyyy love, mackie... 5k ish. this is. definitely something. perhaps it should have stayed in the drafts but dani selected it from a group of it's peers yesterday evening.

It’s been years since you last spent enough time at the vineyard to be considered even a part-time employee. It’s hard to be there, now, in a way it didn’t used to be. Watching it fade away into obscurity and beg someone–anyone–to buy the property to land so your family can get out without generational debt. The fields just hold so many memories, an ancestral kind of history; your first job, the place you had your first drink, where you fell both in, and out of love for the first time. Being there now, watching it die a malignant death is just… sad. There isn’t anything poetic about it.

You long for the days of the peak, of never ending days spent behind the counter in the barn selling wealthy people on the aesthetics of a small, family-run vineyard. Of your father hosting tours and your mother tastings, of you, pink nose and shoulders kissed by the sun, picking grapes by hand. Of the days where help still had to be hired.

For a while there, it seemed like there was a never ending rotation of teenagers and twenty-somethings willing to do manual labor for minimum wage–thirteen an hour–from sunup to sundown. They’d even host the occasional tour on busy Saturday evenings, would be compensated in under the table bottles of wine and cash tips. None of them ever stuck around longer than a couple months, found better jobs indoors, closer to school, better pay. Well, nobody except Daniel.

Daniel worked at the vineyard for… four-ish years, with varying availability depending on seasons and school and racing.

Sometimes, when you lose yourself to sentiments and fantasy, you imagine a world where the Vineyard never faced any competition, where it is still thriving and you take over your mother’s job when she retires. Daniel still works there, maybe in the fields where he was always supposed to be, or maybe front of house guiding tours and helping you with tastings. Life is simple and plain and at the end of every night you lock the barn doors and go home together and eat dinner and grocery shop and do your taxes. Daniel strums the guitar on the porch when it rains. Life is easy and fun and you laugh more than you don’t.

It’s silly, really. But first loves are always silly.

He is one of the many memories that haunt the property, walking the lines of grapevines feeling more like a walk through a fogged out graveyard than anything.

Even now, all these years later, you can still see him sat in the swivel chair in the office doorway, throwing grapes at you while you attempt to run the dusty cash register. It’s a cool July afternoon and he’s got a stupid grin on his face and can’t look anywhere but you.

Daniel is kind of like those people you know you’re given young so that for the rest of your life you know what real feels like. They’re more a lesson than a lover, unfortunately.

—

You move through the place like you own it, which, you suppose technically you do, in some will locked away in an accountant’s filing cabinet, this all belongs to you. Right now, though, you’re seventeen and just returning from school, already setting up your homework on the end of the counter, a spattering of greetings from the local customers and the local hands, the people who know that this is more of a natural habitat than anywhere else on the planet will ever be.

Danny also moves around the place like he owns it, which, if it was up to him he probably would. He hums your name as he moves past, taps the opposite shoulder to the one he leans over, reading your textbook over your shoulder. “It’s seventeen,” he quips.

“It’s a history textbook,” you reply, eyes unmoving from the page.

“Seventeen-seventy, cunt.” There’s a half-empty bowl of fruit sitting on the counter. He leans over you to grab an orange. “Captain Hook and such,” he adds, hosting himself up onto the counter with a thud. You’re sure one day the old wood is going to give out on him and he’ll fall straight onto his ass. Part of you hopes you’re around to see it, the other knows that he’ll find a way to not only make it your fault, but also tease you about it for a minimum of six months.

“Fuck off, Danny,” you punctuate, just loud enough for him to hear.

“It’s Daniel, now.”

You snort. Finally, you give him your attention. “Danny is too unprofessional for a hot-shot Red Bull junior driver like you?”

“See,” he pops his thumb harshly through the peel of the orange, the citrus scent wafting out into the humid air. “You get it.”

You pout. “I’m still going to call you Danny.”

“No you won’t,” he laughs. God, the smell of orange is overwhelming, the kind that lingers long after the fruit is gone. When Danny goes back to work in a few minutes, tosses the peel and into the trash by the office door, he’ll still linger in the room with the smell of citrus.

“I will.”

“You know what,” he hums, biting into a slice. “Let me make you a deal.”

You smile, shake your head. “Shouldn’t I be the one making you a deal?”

He groans against the fruit, “Can you just?”

When you look up again, lean back in your chair and cross your arms, he has orange juice running down the side of his hand, all sweet and sticky and summery. “Fine.”

He smiles goofily, all fucking proud of himself just because you agreed to shut up for thirty seconds. “You can keep calling me Danny, but only if you let me take you out this weekend.”

“Danny,” you protest. This is far from the first time he’s tried to plant the seed of a date with him. It’s had to’ve been a year, by now. You know he’d drop it if you would just give him an answer, but a year later you still haven’t been able to deliver anything definitive.

He shrugs. “‘Dem’s the rules, honey.”

Maybe what you say next is your greatest mistake, or maybe it was what you were always going to say. Maybe you feel like you can say it because he leaves again soon, for longer than ever. You won’t have to live with the consequences of your actions, of your words. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s simply that you think Daniel is far too proper a name for the sticky-handed vineyard tour guide you’ve grown particularly fond of. Danny is much more fitting for him, which is most certainly why you say, okay. When are you picking me up?

—

You drive out from your parents house with your dad in his old Ford Bronco. It’s half rusted out and half chipped blue paint, with worn leather seats and a steering wheel somehow more worn than the rest of it. Seven black tree air fresheners hand from the rearview mirror, new car smell. This relic is well past that–he’s been driving it out to the property literally forever, and this trip won’t be any exception.

You hardly recognize the place, you think as you slam the squeaky door shut with enough force to make sure it really latches.

The fields are overgrown with tall grass and shrubs and mustard flowers. The trunks of the grapevines act as headstones for the sprawling field of dry, sunburnt plants. You don’t think anyone has been out there with a plow in months, if not years.

The barn, the one you grew up in, has been lost with the rest of the place to time. Red paint chips off the wood in massive flakes. The branding that had once run in big wooden letters along the top of the door have all since fallen, leaving a sad outline of your family name in its weathered wake. Two padlocks, one rusted shut, sit on the lock. Every step you take kicks up more dust.

You’re removed from your thoughts, from the hauntings and the sentiment and the memories, by the creaking of the tailgate on your father’s truck. Stuffed in the back of the Bronco are your afternoon tasks; a pair of bulk cutters for the padlocks, a new, state of the art keypad lock given to your Dad by a realtor, a post hole digger, and five for-sale signs haphazardly packed any way they would fit.

You spend most of the next couple hours digging holes along the road, filling them with the wooden posts of the for-sale signs, looking disapprovingly at the thirty-something in a suit that has been tasked with selling the unsellable property.

This is, what… the fifth person you’d hired to sell this fucking place. Soon enough, you’re going to be sticking up For Sale by Owner signs with a hand-written phone number in black sharpie along the fences that were supposed to keep animals out. Realtors were never in the budget to begin with.

—

You’re waiting on the old front porch when he pulls up in his beat-up truck, John Denver playing through the open windows, his hand moving in the wind up the entire dusty driveway. You don’t know what he can see, that your Mom is watching out the kitchen window with a friendly smile.

You’ve got your best sundress on, one that you’d debated wearing for almost thirty-six hours. The first week Danny worked in front of house with you, he spent the entire shift flirting with one of your Dad’s friend’s daughters. He said that sundresses are a crime committed against teenage boys and that when he meets God he’s going to have words with him over pretty girls and their affinity for said sundresses.

You’d laughed then, because you thought it was silly. You remembered it because you thought the new kid was kind of cute, in a you work for my parents and I could never think you’re cute way.

“Fuck,” is the first word out of his mouth, before the car door is even closed behind him, followed quickly by a check of his watch and “am I late?”

“No, no,” you smile, tucking a wind-blown strand of hair behind your ear, standing to your feet on the wooden stairs. “You’re early, actually. I think,” you chuckle. “I’m just,” you can feel your cheeks flushing. “I’m just excited.”

“Yeah,” he moves to you quickly, nervously. In the way only teenage boys on a first date do. “I’m excited too.”

“You look nice,” you say, stepping down the final couple of steps and meeting his waiting hand. “Your hair. I feel like I only ever see you in a hat.”

“Thanks, yeah,” he laughs. You’ve always loved his laugh, even when he’s annoying you and annoying customers and annoying himself. His laugh has always been good. “You look beautiful. I’ve never seen you, I mean. Not that you don’t always look–”

“Danny,” you interject as he opens the passenger side door.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he offers a smile and closes the door. Just before it latches shut, though, you hear him finish his sentence. “Thank you.”

He takes you to King’s Park, to the botanical garden after a stop for ice cream. He tells you that he’s had a crush on you this entire time and you ask him to tell you something you don’t already know. It’s then, in the botanical garden next to the water garden, that he tells you about his quote-en-quote ‘silly, kind of, like, backup dream, I guess’ where he has his own vineyard, brews his own wine and spends every day half drunk and wholly happy.

He stumbles through the entire telling of it, which is how you know he’s not fucking with you. He never gets nervous when it comes to fucking with you.

Perhaps that is where your silly, kind of like, backup dream started. The one where you and Daniel are working at the vineyard together and life is all death and taxes and grocery bills but somehow, in the midst of all the dull normalcy, you’re both happy as happy can be.

—

“Someone is out there looking at the place today,” your father tells you over the phone. You try to talk every day, a habit you’ve both picked up in the past couple years, in the time and space since you’ve turned thirty.

“You’re kidding,” you say. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, shoveling spoonfuls of some health-conscious cereal into your mouth (another post-thirtieth habit). “Who?”

“I don’t know, kid,” you swear you can hear the frown on his face, the deep smile lines and the frustrated forehead wrinkles from months in the direct southern sun. “Probably some fucking developer.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he sighs. “If I’m right, I’d bet they break ground on a neighborhood within the year.”

Your sigh matches his. You can’t even imagine it, front yards and vinyl flooring and white walls built on a foundation of your childhood memories. It’s like going back home, to your childhood home that you sold so many years ago, and discovering it’s been bulldozed, wiped clean from the face of the Earth. “That’s so sad.”

“I know, but, well. You know, honey. It’s not like we have much choice.”

You nod. You do understand. You understand more than you wish you did. “I know. I know. Still pretty fuckin’ sad, though.”

There’s a long silence. The kind of silence that can only be shared by a father and a daughter; a silence that speaks more words than the dictionary can hold. “She’d understand it,” he finally speaks. “She wouldn’t fucking like it, but she would understand it.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know she would.”

—

“Are you going to kill me?” You giggled, stumbling over your feet. Danny is leading you on the property, one hand over your eyes, the other on your waist, guiding you poorly.

“And be the first fucking suspect?” He laughs. “I think not.”

“Okay, then where are you taking me?” You beg. It's been going on like this for some half hour, before he even covered your eyes.

He laughs. You laugh. All the two of you do is laugh. “Can’t you lighten up?”

“Not when I’m being led to my death. No, I can’t!”

He stops, turns you around a hundred and eighty degrees and takes his hand off your eyes, fingers digging into either of your shoulders. “Babe," he says, and you'd think he was about to tell you he killed someone.

You mimic his seriousness, find humor in it. “Babe.”

“You trust me.”

“Do I?” You smile. He cocks his head to one side and rolls his big brown eyes. You would commit crimes for his eyes. “I do.”

“Okay, so then fucking trust me.”

“Okay,” you nod, closing your eyes.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Okay," you reach blindly for his hand, bring it to your eyes to block the light from them once more. "I trust you. Let’s go.”

After a short, terribly blind walk, Danny finally stops. You’ve been able to hear the river that flows out the back of the property for twenty minutes, but it’s close enough now that you can smell it; the sticks and the rocks and the mud and the water. You can practically feel the splashing of the water bouncing off the boulders.

“Okay. Open,” he instructs, removing his hand from your eye, moving his arms to hug you from behind, arms wrapped over the front of your chest.

You open your eyes to find a picnic, carefully set up with a spread of dinner and drinks and dessert, complete with a plaid flannel blanket and candles that smell like citronella masked with lavender and a bouquet of white roses already in a water filled vase. “Danny,” you hum, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

He kisses your temple, whispers against your hair, “Happy Anniversary.”

“Danny,” you drag out the letters of his name, of the nickname he only lets the people he loves call him by. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy and special.

“Honey,” he mocks you, sways behind you.

“This is too much,” You crane your neck to look at him, and then turn your whole body so you’re flush against his chest, close in a way only you get to be. “You’re so sweet.”

He laughs and it vibrates in both of your chests. A feeling you’ll never tire of. “I mean, this is not too much. Arguably, this is too little.”

“No,” you back away, out of his grip and take small steps backwards, towards the picnic and the waiting meal, pulling him along with you by interlocked pinkies. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Well,” his grin grows. “I can’t argue with that.”

“I love you so much,” you tell him, because you do, because you’re eighteen and everything in this life is so simple and black and white.

“I love you, too, and–”

“Oh my gosh,” you cut him off, wide-eyed and giddy. “Wine with strawberries?”

He nods. “Strawberry wine, if you will. For the winery with no strawberry fields.”

“This is better,” you state, with the utmost confidence, without even a sip or a sniff or any idea of what white wine he’d used as a base for his little cocktail.

“Definitely not, but sure.”

“It is, because you made it for me. That makes it perfect.”

—

You’re completely removed from the actual buying and selling of the property. It isn’t up to you to decline or accept or field offers, that’s all your dad. The place is still his, at least for a couple more weeks while all the paperwork processes.

It was an anonymous buyer, according to your Dad. Cash offer, over asking price. He’s not sure how the real estate agent managed it, and honestly? Neither are you. Objectively, that land isn’t worth the cost of cleaning it up. Everyone in their right mind knows it. You just come from a particular bloodline where the mind never was quite right when it came to the vineyard.

What shocks you most, though, is that the anonymous buyer–supposedly–is interested in restoring the place rather than bulldozing it.

“They asked me about the dirt,” your dad tells you on one of your daily phone calls. “Wanted to know about berries.”

“Berries?”

“Yeah, strawberries or raspberries or something like that.”

You scoff. What kind of fucking idiot is buying this land? It might just be a herd of manufactured houses after all. “Well, it’s too hot here for raspberries. Everyone knows that.”

“I know, that’s what I told them. They could probably grow strawberries in July or August.”

“Are they trying to make strawberry wine or something?” And, as if this is some fucked up kind of movie, and not real life, it all comes back to you. Every memory, every moment, all at the thought of fucking strawberries in wine.

“Good fucking luck to them, if they are.” Your grandparents entertained the idea of it once, all the fruit wines. It’s a fucking shit-show, according to legend. Hell to try and make, Heaven to taste. It just wasn’t worth it for them. But apparently now it’s worth it to someone.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, bite and bite until you’re worried you’ll draw blood, that you’re a single tooth away from popping a hole clear through the skin. There’s no way, there’s genuinely no way, right? “Dad?”

“Shoot.”

“It’s not.” You almost stop yourself, you almost have some common fucking sense and realize just how vast the world is and how completely unlikely it is that– almost. You almost stop yourself. “The anonymous buyer, it isn’t Daniel, is it?”

“Daniel?” He scoffs on the other end. “Better not be that fucking cunt.”

You smile, the kind of smile that you know you should feel guilty for having. “He’s not a cunt, Dad.”

“I never fucking liked that kid.”

You’re right–you think. You’re right, Dad. You didn’t like him. “You loved him.”

“No, I lost all my respect for him when he left you like he did,” his voice is laced with a calm seriousness. He’s always been your blind defender.

“Yeah, Dad,” you pause. Now’s as good a time as any, you suppose. “I’ve been… that’s not exactly how it went down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Daniel didn’t leave me, and even if he did, Dad, he wouldn’t have done it then.”

—

“What the fuck are you talking about, you’re breaking up with me?” His voice cuts through continents. He’s somewhere in the UK, or maybe Italy, or maybe Asia. You honestly can’t keep track anymore, can barely keep track of the days of the week that you’re living much less the ones he’s in.

“It’s exactly what I said, Daniel,” you say, try to keep your voice as level headed as possible, to juxtapose the way your mind races, the way your heart rate spikes and your palms sweat and everything in you hurts. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“No, no. I’m making this fucking hard,” he’s riled up enough for the both of you. “You don’t just. This isn’t how this works, babe. You can’t just break up with me.” He’s raising his voice with you. You can count on one hand and have fingers left over the amount of times Danny has yelled at you, and this is the first time it’s not scary.

“I can, and I am,” your voice comes from your throat, choked out over the lull of your entire body begging you to please, please don’t do this. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry!” He yells, the last letter sound cracking with the realization of his actions. “You’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Okay, sure. Whatever.” He doesn’t make this easy, not that you’d expected it to be easy. You’d hoped for something cleaner, though. Less mess. “I’m having a great time breaking your heart.”

“Just. Why? Why are you doing this? What happened? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, D,” you sigh. You didn’t know that your heart could physically hurt. You thought that was some crap that they made up for movies and songs and poems, some grand metaphor for how sad you get. “I can’t be a girlfriend right now. To anyone.”

“That’s such bullshit.”

You can feel yourself shutting down, closing every part of yourself off, running on pure survival instincts. “I know. I’m a cunt.”

“You aren’t… fuck me. I mean, fuck, dude.” He laughs. There’s not a thing about it that sounds happy. “I know you don’t want this, I know it. Talk to me, please. Tell me what’s going on and I can help you and everything is going to be fine, baby. Just. Please.”

“Daniel.”

“Why are you calling me that?!”

“It’s what you like to be called!” You yell back, feel the burn in your nose and your cheeks and the sting in your chest.

There’s silence for so long you wonder if he’s hung up, if you’re supposed to. It’s minutes before he speaks again. “Not by you, it’s not.”

—

It’s been just past a year since the place got sold, and nobody from your family–nobody–has been there since. You moved out of town years before the sale, and your Dad has joined you, wants to be near you in his ever increasing age and always deepening wrinkles. When the arthritis sets in, someone needs to forge my signature for me, he tells you.

It’s not until her birthday that you’re back in Perth, that you’re struck with the sudden spark, with the idea to drive past the vineyard, to see what idiot is trying to plant raspberries in the Australian heat, to see who's living in your shoes and wearing your clothes and sleeping under your bed like a monster.

“I don’t know that we should do that,” your Dad says. “It’s going to make you sad.”

You shrug in the passenger seat of the old Bronco. “We’re in the parking lot of a cemetery, so,” you offer a near silent chuckle. “I think we’re a bit past sad.”

“Okay,” he nods. “There’s something you should know, then.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a neighborhood.”

“No, no. It’s a vineyard. Strawberries and grapes in the fields.”

“Well, good then,” you nod, glide your hands through the air outside the open window. “What’s wrong with it?”

He shrugs, drums his fingers on the beat up steering wheel. “You remember when you asked me last year if it was Daniel?”

“Dad. Don’t.”

“Well, I didn’t know it then, but–”

“I’m serious. Don’t tell me this, please,” you’re a second away from sticking your fingers in your ears and humming a nursery rhyme to keep the unsaid unspoken.

“Daniel bought the place, hon.”

“My Daniel?” You squeak. You haven’t felt this young in a while. Or this small.

He laughs, turns to face you with a look that begs you not to be so damn daft. “The only Daniel that means anything to anyone in this family.”

“When did you find out?”

“As soon as they put the sign up. I was still living out here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You have so many questions. You don’t think there’s any you actually want answers to.

“What good was it going to do? I never thought you’d be back here.”

“Well. I’m back.”

He nods. “You’re back.”

You’re back. You never really left, you don’t think. It’s not something you can do around here. Perth is in your blood the same way wine is, some grand, immovable part of your soul. You suppose Daniel is there too, taking up a plot of land in your soul that can never be sold. He lives in you like summertime and sadness and strawberries. Strawberries. Him and his fucking strawberry white wines.

“He’s got strawberries?” You croak. Tears pull on your voice but you won’t give them the satisfaction. You’re grown now, it’s time to fucking act like it.

“Strawberry wine. First batches just came out last month. I heard it’s pretty good.”

“I bet.”

“You still wanna go?”

You nod, cold and stunted. “Yeah.”

You see the cars before you see the barn, they’re overflowing out of the parking lot and stopped on the side of the dirt road that leads to the drive. You’ve never seen it so busy. It looks like the pictures your parents used to show you, the ones where the place was fresh and new and shiny. The barn has a fresh coat of red paint, the parking lot is repaved and half full of ATVs with a logo for DR3 Wines printed on either side.

Above the door, a matching phrase, in simple white wooden letters–like what once was–hangs, announces the place to passers by.

Inside, it smells like wood, like lavender and citronella and alcohol. There are pictures on every wall, carefully framed photos of everyone in the world besides him. The counter is that same old slab of wood, the one that you always hoped he would fall through. On the wall behind is are more 4x6 photos than you can count, all unframed, all messily taken. He’s in some of those, holding a camera or posing with friends or hugging a grapevine. There’s one with you, right in the middle. You and he and your Mom on the back field picking grapes. It’s taken by your dad, you still remember that morning clear as day.

There’s another of you; a selfie taken on a point-and-shoot, the two of you with glasses of white wine and strawberries. Next to it is a picture of Kristen Bell and Dax Shephard leaning against the counter, half-drunk glasses in each of their hands.

Framed, on the edge of the counter, right beside the register, is a photo of the place when he first started working there, of your Mom and your Dad standing proudly in front of it. You took it. You left it in the office when your Dad decided to lock the doors for good. Our Story, the plaque below it reads, with a QR code to scan.

It leads to a linktree, to social media links and tasting menus and a merchandise shop. The last link, though, is stomach curling. It’s her name, your Mom’s. Fighting for her, it reads. When you click it, you’re taken to a website that encourages donations, that spreads awareness and promotes research, that thanks Daniel by name twice in two paragraphs for his consistent and generous donations and support.

Before you can make a bee-line for the exit, to tell your Dad that he was right and this was a mistake, you’re met with a red-faced teenage girl asking you if there’s anything she can help you with. “No, uh,” you swallow hard. “My parents were the previous owners, we just stopped in to see the place.”

“Oh my gosh, would you like a tour?”

“Um…” you pause, because you don’t know if you can handle being here. Seeing the place like this again. “Danny’s not… Daniel isn’t here, is he?” She shakes her head. You nod. “Then yeah, I guess. Let me just grab my dad?”

—

You get an invite to a VIP tasting at his vineyard two weeks after your visit. It’s scheduled during the F1 summer break, so you have no doubt he’ll be there, and if that wasn’t clue enough, his handwriting glaring back at you on the invite is about as obvious as obvious can be.

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your Dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine–the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

read part two, everywhere, everything, here!

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acesgarden · 4 months

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Hi. Could you write reader x ninjas. Reader is a villain before season one of Ninjago because they were manipulated by their guardian. Reader later on joins the ninjas in their journey

HIIIII! Yes I can :0 This is such a coincidence of a request because my ninjago oc is sorta a vilian ish? (They’re part Oni.) It’s a whole thing but when I got this I thought of them lolol.

|| Redemption

Pairing(s) ->

Lloyd G. Nya S-J. Jay W-G. Kai S-J. Cole B. Zane J.(separate) x Redeemed Villain!Reader.

Warning(s) ->

N/A.

Summary ->

A villain trying out redemption and the ninja are helping.

Masterlist

Lloyd ->

You started out only as a nuisance. Not a major threat. That’s all you were. Till you (and your guardian) sided with someone that made you a threat.

Eventually defeating you, and I could see you either sacrificing the relationship with your guardian, or your guardian betraying you.

Either way you begin redeeming yourself (being forced into it since you really don’t have anywhere else to go,) helping the ninja on their journey.

When it comes to helping I think he’s very, skeptical kinda, very wary. Cause of the whole Harumi incident (assuming this is taking place after that.)

You make it hard for them /lh

But Lloyd eventually comes around to be very patient with you.

He helps you a lot, especially as an ex vilain himself. He helps you adjust and everything.

Lots of meditation and like sensei training.

I give it a 9/10.

Nya ->

She’s similar to Lloyd, a bit wary but over all patient.

Also really good regarding emotion stuff and writhing through past teachings.

Helps you get settled in to this new life.

Gives you things that can help with redirecting habits to something else.

8/10.

Jay ->

Really good at easing you in.

You guys get along through his awkwardness.

He can get you to open up pretty easily, and getting you to loosen up.

Probably the first one you trust.

But also kinda not the best at the emotional stuff idk.

7/10.

Kai ->

Has a shit ton of unspoken wisdom he shares with you.

You can understand it easily and begin to trust the ninja more.

Even though you can no dw get on his nerves with your tactics.

It kinda reminds him of Wyldfyre, kinda treats you like a little sibling.

8/10.

Cole ->

Okay depending on when it’s either 5/10 or 10/10.

But going with dr. He 10/10 raising 3 kids.

Kinda gentle parents you sorta 😭

But also sets boundaries and such.

Actually really good at the emotional and mental side of the transition.

Zane ->

He would make you feel at home, although not the best with emotional stuff.

Bakes you stuff, and helps you get into a routine.

Depending on your past helps you get caught up in school or training.

He’s been patient from the beginning.

7/10.

#aces writing #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #lego ninjago x reader #ninjago lloyd x reader #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya x reader #ninjago nya #ninjago jay x reader #ninjago jay #ninjago kai x reader #ninjago kai #ninjago cole x reader #ninjago cole #ninjago zane x reader #ninjago zane

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surelysilly · 18 days

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i love your King Of Hell Danny (superphantom) au and i would greatly (very much) appreciate it if you could talk more about it (King Of Hell Danny) i love his (danny) smug cat energy (smug) in all of your drawing for it (hell is under New Management)

i hope you're ready for this some rambling but ask and you shall receive!!! yes i waited to post this for superphantom week i gotta shill for my own event, y'know :9

So. You want to know more about King of Hell Danny, is it?

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

Well. Well. He's certainly Danny. Or more specifically I've decided as of recent, Dark Danny. I'm waffling on whether he's Dan Dark Danny or just... Phantom sans Plasimus. The latter feels less likely as i try to flesh him out, but you never know with these guys... he does prefer to look like his 14 yr old self though.

But whatever version he is of himself... it's post-TUE, and he hates himself more than anyone is allowed to know.

Not sure exactly how he ended up in the SPNverse (portal probably!), but he'd definitely prefer going back to his own world/dimension in a heavily buried sense of self-flagellation and unreliable narrator-ness.

Everyone is waiting for him there, not here, wherever he is exactly. This implies anyone is left alive, but he never said that. People (Crowley, etc.) just assume so.

and he's the worst lil jerk you could ever meet, at a first, second, and third, glance, anyway.

Smug cat, indeed. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, and taking over Hell felt right. (isn't that where he'd go? he thinks, after learning Hell is actually real.)

he's overpowered for sure, but it also comes from a misconception for what he is. Not a demon, not human, a secret Third Thing: weird ghost.

i like to think most regular ghost counter measures work on him, but no one thinks to try them because that ain't no ghost??? He plays the part really well though, pretending to be a demon (and gets mislabelled a crossroads demon for his red eyes) -- it doesn't bother him to kill people, but he doesn't go out of his way to do it anymore.

KOH!Danny having it out for the Winchesters is a very thoughtless and fun thing, and it would piss him off when they try to summon Crowley, but in all actuality, he'd probably end up begrudgingly working with them or something.

And ultimately betray them.

I also think his goal would be to fuse with Lucifer when he's freed from the Cage. That should give him enough power to bust a hole back to his OG dimension, right?

maybe. Who knows.

You can certainly find him at DIY skateparks across the globe. He's an asshole to anyone and everyone, but god have mercy on anyone looking to cause trouble while he's trying to have a good time (he feels guilty about it, though, having fun -- it's a circle of shame/guilt/fuck it we ball mentality, here for a good time not a long time).

he can 'see' Castiel's wings and if in his presense, will pluck at them because he's annoying like that.

Crowley became his lap dog though, regardless of intial beheadings because... Hell generates a lot of paperwork the way Crowley was running it, and KOH!Danny don't got the time for all of that.

eventually I'm sure someone will figure him out, ghost weaknesses and all, but it's not 1:1 SPNverse ghost: no bones to burn, no records of him being alive ever, etc., but he's definitely solid enough.

i could see a later quest like what the Winchesters did to find Crowley's remains, but they'd spiral down a hole of "where hell did this creature even come from???" and the Men of Letters/Angels/anyone wouldn't know jack about what he even is exactly.

i'm so rusty on SPN though... but those are my cobbled together ideas. I'd place him mid-ish seasons Supernatural (because ive only really seen s4 thru s8...) but i think the 'hijinks' of later seasons could be fun with the seriousness of early, early seasons sprinked in!

#asks #superphantom #superphantomweek2024 #dpxspn #dp x spn #<<< i use these last two tags under vague duress cos im old #hell is under new management au #thank you for asking!!!!

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gumbootillustrations · 9 days

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dame katelyn de feu my beloved 😭😭😭

more bits under the cut!!

katelyn first shows up to phoenix drop towards the end of season one under similar circumstances to canon mcd - jeffory's about to be executed for treason, and she's desperately trying to get his name cleared before he dies. however, when it becomes clearer and clearer to her that zane's using him as a scapegoat, she decides to turn on him and side with aphmau and the phoenix alliance ahead of the battle for phoenix drop.

in ashes, ashes, jurors were originally ordained through the bestowal of relics - however, after they went missing a couple of centuries after the first war of the magi, they pretty much became just. super politically powerful guards until about twenty years before the start of ashes, ashes, when the high priest of o'khasis at the time (zane's predecessor) figured out a way to bestow the powers of the juror relics to the jurors without using the relics themselves. anyway, its blood magick and it essentially brands the jurors with a seven-pointed star on their foreheads as a mark of the ritual being completed. katelyn hates what the ritual has turned her into - even though long hair is lowkey pretty impractical in a fight, she keeps hers long so that her mark is hidden (jeffory did the same, and garroth will also grow his hair out a little to cover his mark). when she transforms, a lot of the saturation in her skin in hair is drained out due to the magick not being suuuper holy (in fact, the first casting of the ritual upset the balance of the universe so much that it woke up the primordial gods n they sicked a plague on o'khasis that garte would later blame on tu'lan biological warfare). additionally, because the magick of the ritual sort of like. blends in? with any magicks or witchcraft already present in the juror their juror form will reflect this - katelyn has fire magicks, so when she transforms, her hair turns into this sort of sickly pale blue fire. her fire is hot enough that it burns blue anyway, but yeah.

katelyn burns her juror armour the minute she can once everyone gets out of the irene dimension. for a while, she just wears whatever she can scrounge up from around phoenix drop, but when cadenza finds out about this she gives katelyn this outfit! it's definitely done out of the kindness of her heart, there definitely aren't any ulterior motives don't worry. it's a lot more of a mercenary-ish look compared to her juror armour, but katelyn likes it just fine - especially since a certain flame-haired seamstress with a winning smile made it especially for her.

a little headcanon i have about katelyn - i feel like even though she isn't great at sewing, having grown up in a minor noble house in o'khasis, i feel like she would have some skills with textiles. specifically, i feel like she'd knit and/or crochet in her down time! before everyone heads out to gal'ruk, she knits everyone some mittens/scarves/socks/etc. not sweaters, though - she's loathe to admit it, but she's a firm believer in the sweater curse. otherwise, nothing much changes except that she throws on a coat and calls it a day - i like to think that, similar to laurance, she runs a little hotter than most people due to her fire magicks sort of acting as a bit of an internal furnace, so she doesn't need to bundle up quite as much as the others.

her day-to-day outfit is pretty much her standard guard outfit without the armour. she does wear an underbust corset/belt/thing with a small pouch attached, though - its very useful for carrying around knickknacks n stuff. otherwise, there's not much else to really comment on? idk. i probably shouldve added in some scars on her arms but its 11:30 pm at the time im writing this n ive spent way too long on this dang ref sheet already so yeah.

i decided to change up her conqueror form quite a bit - the form i drew in my original lineup of the second war's divine warriors wasn't really katelyn n looking back on it i shouldve spent more time trying to get it right. anyway, katelyn's mother was from southern tu'la, and was from a merchant family with some distant blood ties to the royal family - katelyn is technically related to the king of tu'la, but the relation is so distant that she doesn't really consider him (or any of the tu'lan nobles, really) to be blood relations. it's through this lineage, though, that she's able to resonate with menphia's relic, although it definitely helps that she's the second war's incarnation of the conqueror. mostly, the design notes from her first conqueror design remain the same - all i've really done is change the colour palette.

aaaand some headshots. i haven't exactly worked out how she got her facial scars - the big one was probably gotten on her first major assignment as a juror. however, it's nasty enough that when it healed it sort of fucked up her facial muscles - the scar tissue has permanently warped the right side of her mouth into a grimace, so anytime she makes a facial expression it's pretty lopsided (it's especially noticeable when she smiles). also, i changed the titling system for the jury to be more similar to the commonwealth knighthood system? like as much as i think "lady katelyn" is sick as fuck, the fact that it's the same title used for the female spouses of lords just sorta,,, didn't sit right? i guess? so yeah. dame katelyn.

anyway, feel free to ask questions if u want! :D

#....i may have been infected with the katedenza brainrot #anyway. i love mcd katelyn sm #she was lowkey a major part of my bisexual awakening #aphblr #aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphverse #mcd #aphmau art #aphmau fanart #mcd rewrite #katelyn the fire fist #katelyn the firefist #katelyn mcd #minecraft diaries rewrite #ashes ashes mcd #jury of nine

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months

Text

To Find What Once Was Lost

Warnings: None really. Some angst. Regrets.

Summary: Y/N has found Dean, can she find what they lost when she said goodbye?

Pairings: Dean x Y/N

Word Count: 1250

A/N: So this fic is a sequel to Love Misunderstood. That little drabble was written just over a year ago, and I've been meaning to write this almost ever since.

@paarthurnax59 sent a very kind ask inquiring about a part 2 for them, and I was quickly inspired to write this sequel. It's more than twice as long as the first one - sorry! Couldn't keep this one short and sweet. 😏

Anyway, hope you all enjoy them both!

P.S. For reference, I pictured the first part of the story taking place when Dean was around 22 or 23. (2001/2002 - ish) This one is supposed to take place almost 11 years later, when Dean was 33/34 (2012/2013 - ish.) So around season 8. But there's room for interpretation as your imagination prefers. 😊

The day he stepped back into my life was just an idle Tuesday. I’d spent more than a decade avoiding him one way or another, either by design or by accident.

Then one Tuesday night in Stedman’s Bar and Grill - there he was, leaning against the bar, swirling a glass of cheap whiskey.

Dean Winchester.

The boy that I loved without understanding that I did. The boy who told me he loved me just so I could stomp on his heart. The boy I regretted more than any other mistake I’d made, and I’d made a lot of them.

I stared at him across the room and the first thing I realized was that he wasn't a boy anymore.

In some ways he still looked exactly the same, the same perfect profile, the same wide, disarming smile, the same jewel-bright green eyes that widened with surprise when they caught mine from across the room.

But as I stared at him, I saw the differences too. When I’d known him, he’d been tall and muscular, but still a little lanky, as though he hadn’t quite grown into his size yet, like a puppy.

Now, he’d definitely achieved his full potential. His body was thick and broad, sturdy, like an oak tree - one that had weathered years and years of storms.

As he walked slowly towards me, his glass of whiskey in hand, I could see the changes in his face too. He was still inordinately beautiful - there was something almost surreal about that kind of beauty - but there was a warning in his eyes now, a set to his mouth that was harder. His smile was more cautious, less automatic.

He approached my table and my heart beat wildly. Then he spoke and I realized another big change.

“Hey, Y/N, long time no see.”

Like the rest of him, his voice had matured, deepened significantly. It was rougher, harder. But it had also gained the power to make an electric shiver run up my spine.

I tried to remember how to smile, as I greeted him. “Yeah, a long time. How…how are you?”

He shrugged and gestured to the chair across from me, questioning. I gave a nod. “Yeah, please, sit.”

He sat down and took a sip from his glass. “I’m good. You?”

I laughed lightly, nervously. “Well, over the last ten years or so?” I tilted my head. “Mostly okay.”

He frowned. “Hasn’t been ten years.”

I nodded. “You’re right, closer to eleven.”

I saw realization slowly dawn in his eyes and I chuckled. “Yeah.”

A charged silence descended and I knew we were both remembering that last meeting. I knew my memory of it was shrouded in regret and pain. How did he remember it?

As the time that bitch ripped his heart out? Puppy love for an unremarkable and undeserving girl? Or was his memory of me muted and fuzzy around the edges?

Was I just a distant memory he had trouble accessing?

I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t. Because what if I told him I remembered everything about our time together, that I remembered the way he smelled when he was fresh out of the shower, that I still make grilled cheese sandwiches the way he taught me, that I can’t listen to Nothing Else Matters because it makes me cry to remember the way he held me pressed close to him in the back of the Impala while it played softly over the radio.

What if I told him all those things and he remembered nothing, or he remembers and doesn’t care, remembers and curses my name, remembers and knows he dodged a bullet.

The endless what ifs kept my mouth sealed tight.

He cleared his throat. “So, still hunting?”

I nodded, grateful for the conversational lifeline. “Yeah, still at it. You too, from what I hear.” I smiled. “Thanks for uh…saving the world.”

He snorted softly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Yeah, no problem. Nothin’ else to do that day.”

I grinned. “Well, good thing.”

His smile softened slightly, and he sighed deeply. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

I returned the soft smile. “Dean Winchester.”

In the renewed silence I heard a distant alarm bell going off in the back of my mind. For years I’d wanted the chance to tell him I was sorry, that I regretted hurting him, that he wasn’t wrong, it was love between us, that I’d been a fool.

And now my mouth was sealed shut. But I was the one who did the hurting, and even though Dean was the one who walked out the door, I was the one who ended what we had. So, I had to be the one to speak first.

With determination and terror I pried open my jaw and let my cartwheeling thoughts fall out.

“This is probably gonna be stupid and maybe you don’t care, or maybe you don’t wanna hear it, but I need to say I’m sorry.”

Dean was frowning. “No, Y/N-”

But I cut him off. “Please, yes. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long that I was the one who was wrong. I told you you were mistaken, that you didn’t love me, that we didn’t love each other, but I was so wrong. I was just a scared, stupid kid and I’ve regretted hurting you every day since. Because, you did love me, I did love you, it was real. Okay, maybe it was young and untested, but it was real. And…well, I’m just sorry I couldn’t understand that then.”

My voice got quiet. “I think about you a lot, and I always hope you’re well, happy.” I looked at him, my expression turning the statement into a question, and he just shrugged.

“I’ve been happy.” He paused a beat and then scoffed. “Been miserable and scared and broken, and stomped on quite a bit too.” He answered with a lopsided, heartbreaking smile. “But yeah, I’ve been happy.”

He caught my eye. “I’m happy now.”

My heart grew and thumped against my ribcage and I couldn’t help the tears that came to my eyes. I blinked them away and reached across the table to put my hand on his, smiling wide. “I’m happy too.”

He shook his head, inhaling deeply, and exhaling slowly. “Man, I’ll tell you one thing - I missed that smile.”

I felt myself blush and Dean chuckled and winked. “Missed making you blush too.”

I waved away his flirtations, though they made my pulse race, and I gave him a serious look. “Do you accept my apology? Forgive me?”

Dean’s face was gentle now, closer to the soft boy I remembered, though still forever altered. “Yeah, sweetheart. Long time ago. Life’s too short and mean to hold on to old hurts.”

A shy smile turned up the corner of his mouth and he stared into his whiskey. “Still think about you lots though too, still…still regret walking away.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re right, gotta let go of those regrets.”

He looked back up at me and nodded. “Yeah, and maybe…?”

I got lost in the forest of his eyes for a moment, but then raised an eyebrow in question. “Maybe…what?”

He shrugged, his expression sheepish. “Maybe start making new memories instead?”

There was a familiar warmth in his gaze that had goosebumps racing across my skin and the blush back in my cheeks.

“Yeah, definitely, new memories, new chances?”

He raised his glass of whiskey and winked at me again. “I’ll drink to that.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

#dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester drabble

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rbr4c1ng · 5 months

Note

Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe explain the bus bros fallout or p2p gate or pretty much all of the McLaughlin-Newgarden lore to me since I'm only getting in to IndyCar now and I want to be caught up before the 500. I understand this is a big ask but I've seen that youve posted about it and I just NEED to know. Any links to other pieces of lore would also be much apreciated. Completely understand if you don't want to write anything though so thank you so much I advance!! <3

YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL EXPLAIN! this is my special interest dw i could write an 18 page essay about their lore.

SO basically scott came into indycar from supercars in 2020-2021 ish and him a josef started getting along like super well, which is honestly a bit odd bc josef is known to not really let people get so close to him, so scotty is a bit of an outlier in that respect.

eventually! they make bus bros!!! wooooo everyone loves it etc etc they have fun making it…. until they don’t! leading up to their breakup there were QUITE a few clues that they knew it was gonna end in flames like scott talked about it on off track (see audio excerpt below) and on hot seats with hinch if i remember correctly?

there’s also a fair share of articles that mention it. they basically knew it was inevitable but i don’t think anyone thought it was gonna happen so quickly??

so then the winter break leading into the 2024 szn happened! this is about when i started getting really into bus bros and was honestly pretty present for some of this shit (i was at the daytona 24 and st pete so i’ve got some first hand evidence but we will get to that later)… anyways so the rumors start going around that bus bros is over around?? st pete time i think??? a little bit earlier. which is odd given that they seemed okay with each other at the daytona 24, even though i thought it was strange that they weren’t both on tower motorsports anymore cause josef switched to penske porsche but GENERALLY it seemed okay (although based on this pic idk their relationship seems a little charged atp but it’s all speculation really)

then after the rumors come out i think it was jenna fryer’s article that did it in? (idk it has a paywall on it for me right now and i don’t care enough to find it here but there’s definitely excerpts floating around) now i do recommend to take anything jenna fryer says with a grain of salt bc she is essentially a gossip columnist for all intents and purposes. but the article basically said that josef and scotty were done and scott wouldn’t answer any questions about it and was only saying that they’re fine or to ask josef about it (tea from todays 100 days to indy episode actually…). they promptly took down the bus bros merch site and have been relatively quiet since then. at st pete they talked on the podium and didn’t seem too bad but i’ve seen other clips where they won’t even sit next to each other or speak to each other so take that as you will. podiums are pretty much just publicity, cameras everywhere, you’d probably want to seem at least cordial with your teammate.

(pic 1 is mine, pic 2 is a pic of my tv from todays episode LMFAO)

so heres where most of the speculative stuff comes in. Josef dissolved his media company, unfollowed everyone, and cancelled bus bros leading into the 2024 season because he wanted to “get rid of distractions”, and really we could leave it at that, but i find it hard to believe that that’s the only thing that happened.

Josef is the dictionary definition of Penske Perfect, you won’t get any closer to it than him. he’s fucking OBSESSED with this idea of being perfect. perfect season, perfect body, perfect car, perfect team. obviously this isn’t feasible, but scotty seemed to have broken through that block in his little Penske Perfect brain and got him to LIGHTEN UP A BIT. and then the 2023 season happened. sure, josef won the indy 500 but it was one of his worst season finishes in a while and, to make matters worse, scott BEAT him. little scotty mac, supercars champion transplant from 2021 beat josef newgarden at his own fucking game after breaking down his walls and making him soft. i can see how that scared josef honestly. so he ended it. Scott doesn’t see things on a plane of winning/losing imo, everything is just experience for him. hell, he didn’t even know if he would end up in indycar and he sure as hell didn’t think he’d win races so soon AND beat his teammate. to josef, it’s JUST winning/losing. if he’s losing, he needs to be better. and he lost sight of that for the 2023 season. that’s why he had to come back and put an end to the shenanigans bc he knows scott makes him soft.

but that’s just my speculation!!!!! literally could just be nothing. maybe it is to josef, but i know for a FACT it isn’t to scott.

OH and with the p2pgate stuff! basically they had a component in their car that. was not supposed to be there! that prevented race control from turning off their push to pass like normal. (marshall pruitt has a rlly good article explaining it all here) and they were caught in long beach when race control forgot to turn on the push to pass during the sunday warm up and HMMMMM why do the penske cars still have it???? when has this happened before??? oh ok st pete! now they’re disqualified. josef used 9 seconds of p2p when it was not enabled and scotty only used 1.9 and will used none. so i’m led to believe that it was a josef-centered choice IF it was intentional to use the p2p when it was supposed to be inactive.

now josef really laid down the water works for that press conference at barber to the point that i was having a VERY hard time watching it. i felt bad for the guy. he seemed really fucking upset and i almost believe that it WASNT on purpose but. it’s just too good to be true right?

honestly i think this all could tie back to the downfall of bus bros in that scott maybe didn’t want to do the p2p thing but josef was willing to? and maybe that caused some sort of divide between them bc then again for josef it’s about Winning No Matter What, and yes scott wants to win but cheating isn’t the way for him. idk.

for more of their lore when they WERE friends, watch bus bros (duh), admit one, 100 days to indy, scott learns america: nashville, hot seats with hinch, and listen to scott’s episode on off track with hinch and rossi! also there are some very brief interactions between them on some older penske games videos before bus bros was even a thing but it’s not much. there are more but i can’t think of them rn…

sorry for rambling, if you have any more qs feel free to ask!!! i’m always available for brain picking :)

#anyways.#this is how my brain works #this is all i think about all the time 24/7/365 #psychoanalyzing race car drivers…#indycar #bus bros #josef newgarden #scott mclaughlin #p2pgate #correct me if any of this is wrong bc sometimes i just say shit

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heyclickadee · 8 months

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Okay, a few thoughts on the trailer now that I’ve collected my thoughts a bit:

1. Between the shots of the crashed ship and Omega in the cockpit, it’s looking like a self-rescue on Omega’s part. At this point I’m thinking she gets herself and Crosshair out, and then, based on the shots of Cross with the batch, gets separated from him at some point. He rejoins the batch, and she is…somewhere else. Though I don’t know if that means she goes back to Tantiss.

2. It’s entirely possible that she gets got by one of the bounty Hunters in the trailer, and that’s what separates her from Crosshair.

3. I do think that it is Crosshair in the armor, but other possibilities include: one, Tech, who may not have his own armor anymore and needed to wear something protective on short notice, and; two, Hunter’s having a real bad time and is actually hallucinating Crosshair being with them. I don’t think that’s the case though—I think it really is Crosshair.

4. It’s also possible that those shots with Crosshair are from a little later on in the season.

5. Poor Omega’s going to be in Tantiss for months.

6. I swear Hunter looks like he’s lost weight. Like. I know a lot of the fandom is deep in the Crosshair and Tech are twins sauce (and honestly, I am too, I adore that head-canon and basically think if it as canon), but darn it if Hunter isn’t getting so drawn he’s starting to look a little like Crosshair.

7. I find it weirdly amusing that the half the trailer in which the bad batch actually features is mostly taken up by Hunter and Wrecker doing Adventure Man things. I get the sense they were scrounging to find shots of the batchers that weren’t massively spoilery (and they still put those shots of Crosshair in. Which, admittedly, is one of the things that makes me slightly suspicious of that being Crosshair at all, because that could be a misdirect, but only slightly).

8. I’m going to laugh if it turns out that Cid hired all of the bounty hunters we see to find Omega. Like, if that’s what she uses the money she got from Hemlock for, and she’s basically trying to get Omega out of the situation she got Omega into and goes a little overboard on the means.

9. Ventress! I’ll be honest, Ventress has never been at the top of my favorite character list, though I’ve warmed up to her quite a bit (I used to like the idea of her more than the execution), but I always love Nika Futterman’s performance, and I’m intrigued to see Ventress here at the very least. Because. How. She was very dead. Very, very dead. Not “fell into The Mists” dead—she had a funeral after being dead for months. My only thoughts are that were either seeing her in a flashback sequence that takes place before Dark Disciple, or it turns out that nightsisters can use their force magic to do some weird shit after getting hit by lightning. Either way, I don’t think she’s fighting Wrecker and Hunter here—that’s just some misleading editing.

10. Man, I hope Hemlock dies a lot.

11. Anyway, speaking of the dead and those back from it, Tech is so alive and I’m trying to not be the Smuggest of Gremlins until we for sure see him, but jeez are they making that difficult. (I checked the trailer release blurb on the Star Wars dot com page—it doesn’t mention Tech being dead. It just says the team is “scattered” after the events of season two. Like. Guys, you’re not even trying anymore.)

12. And more on Tech, I do think it’s possible—possible, mind you—that Tech is the guy we see in the clone X armor in front of what looks like the Archium. There are some small differences between that armor and both the armor we see on Clone X in season two, and the Clone X we see speaking later in the trailer—namely, the shoulder straps, what looks like a glass visor covering the two eyeholes, and *sigh* the pouches. And it’s the straps and the pouches that are giving him a bit more of a Tech-ish silhouette—especially the pouches, and especially from behind. If it is Tech, though, I don’t think it’s a brainwashed Tech at all (and honestly, it’s the pouches that make me lean towards not brainwashed if it is Tech in there, because a shin pouch is just a very Tech-and-not-blank-slate thing to wear).

I actually think it’s more likely that it’s Tech in disguise and having taken the armor from the Clone X we see later in the trailer (with some adjustments of his own), and that that’s what’s being referred to by the titles “Infiltration” and “Extraction;” Tech infiltrating imperial forces, and then the others having to get him (and probably the people of Pabu) out. And, if that’s the case, I’m banking on these shots being from the midseason. (I know I said I wasn’t going to speculate on the episode titles. That was aspirational.)

Basically, I could be persuaded that it’s Tech in there or that it’s not. I’m less likely to be persuaded that it’s a brainwashed Tech in there—I still don’t think that’s happening.

12. Whether that is Tech in that armor or not, I do think that the clone X we see speaking in the trailer isn’t the same guy in the armor in the Archium shot.

13. I am SO HAPPY to see Phee back THANK GOODNESS. I was a little worried they’d drop her like a rock, but nope! She’s here! She’s got her cool jacket! We see her ship!

14. There is a criminally small amount of Echo in the trailer, but I’m not giving up on seeing more of him. It’s possible that he’s either a walking spoiler, or that he features a little more heavily in the back half of the season.

15. “The Cavalry Has Arrived” is the most optimistic episode title in the whole damn show and, yes, I will die on this hill.

16. Crosshair. Oh, Crosshair. Someone please save him immediately.

17. There’s a lot of early doom panic around, well, everyone and everyone (especially Hunter) dying that I’m honestly going to ignore going forward. For reasons.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #here in the land of wild speculation

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holllandtrash · 1 year

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better match | lando norris, pierre gasly

pairing: pierre gasly x reader, lando norris x reader blurb (epilogue ish i guess) to better left unsaid (the better series)

based off an anon message that the f1 drivers, specifically pierre and lando in monaco watching tennis but not sitting near each other was giving: “The Better Series” Pierre bringing y/n along as his plus one and her and lando just briefly acknowledging each other from across the court

word count: 1.7k (this is not proofread i wrote this so fast)

Pierre reached for your hand as you walked up the steps to the vip stands. Charles was waiting for the two of you next to the row of chairs and he flashed you both a smile.

"I didn't know you liked tennis," Charles said, stepping forward to pull you in for a hug.

"I don't," you laughed, dropping your sunglasses to rest on the bridge of your nose. You glanced at Pierre, "I was practically dragged here."

"Is that why you spent two hours on your hair and make up? Because you didn't want to come?" Pierre teased, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You placed your hand against his chest as his arm moved around your waist to hold you close to his side. It took everything you had to not tilt your chin up to kiss him, but Pierre had told you that there would be dozens of cameras around.

Your relationship was by no means a secret, but there was still a line you didn't like to cross when it came to PDA.

"Come on, let's sit," Pierre led the way, finding your seats easily.

There were perks to dating a Formula 1 driver. You may not have been a fan of tennis, but you could appreciate the good view of the match. There was no one in front of you, you had plenty of leg room and without even asking, one of the employees working brought you and Pierre each a bottle of sparkling water.

Pierre rested his hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb aimlessly over your exposed skin as he fell into a conversation with Charles.

You tried to pay attention to the match, but you kept having to lean towards Pierre and ask to him to explain what was going on or what the call meant. Pierre didn't mind helping you out though, he sort of figured that bringing you along would come with a lot of questions.

Pierre loved bringing you everywhere. Any sporting events, any dinners, any media requirements, he made sure to do whatever he could so that his invite was extended to you.

He always joked about you quitting your job so you could travel with him more, but they weren't actually jokes and you both knew that.

Since you started dating, you managed to split your time pretty evenly between your career and spending time with Pierre over his winter break but he somehow managed to convince you to take an extended leave that lined up with his first break of the season. Him having four weeks off in April wasn't expected and you really had no reason as to why you couldn't take time off.

So you went to Milan with him and then Paris and now you were in Monaco.

It was definitely nice to see Charles, it had been a while since you had caught up with him. George and Carmen were also somewhere watching the match, you made a mental note to try and meet up with them later.

As far as you were concerned, none of the other drivers were present but when you opened up your phone and saw that Lando's instagram story was the first one highlighted, you clicked it.

And that's when you found out he was watching the tennis match too.

You looked up from your screen and started to scan the audience that was across from you. When no one sitting down looked like Lando, you peered to your left and right, trying to see if you could spot the Brit.

"What's up?" Pierre asked, squeezing your leg. He noticed your sudden interest, not in the sport, but in trying to find something, or someone.

You weren't going to lie to him. Pierre and you had a very honest relationship, there were no secrets.

"Lando's here," you said.

Pierre nodded. His jaw tightened momentarily, but not enough to cause concern. You hadn't spoken to Lando face to face since he visited you at your place of work. You had seen him in the paddock when you attended the first race of the season, but you weren't able to go to the other ones so there was no opportunity to connect.

You logged into Twitch once over the winter break and watched one of his streams. You left a comment, one that went unnoticed by Lando, but when his viewers recognized your username in the chat, they started springing a bunch of questions on him.

And Lando had a really bad habit of reading the chat out loud.

"...what's up with you and Y/N..." Lando muttered and then smiled to himself as he leaned back in the chair. "Yeah we're friends, that's all. She'll always be one of my biggest supporters, dont worry."

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. But his fans didn’t need any more information than that. You would always support Lando, you still considered him a friend, you were just hovering in this area of uncertainty.

At that point, Max, who had been hovering over his shoulder, felt it was smart to chime in, "Yeah she'll just be wearing pink now instead of orange."

Lando elbowed his side, "She never wore orange anyway. It wasn't her colour."

And you don't know why you did this, but you felt the need to share your two cents and you typed in the chat, "It's not your colour either. It washes you out."

His viewers all loved that one. Lando must have seen the comment too, or at least the hundreds of responses to it, because he rolled his eyes and just tried to change the topic but with Max laughing in the background it wasn't all that easy to segue into something else.

There was no malice, though. No hatred, no anger. You were on good terms, even if you hadn't spoken or sent any texts over the last few months.

But now you were in the same vicinity and it wasn't a race weekend.

Did you want to talk to him?

Pierre had the same question for you, "Did you want to go say hi?"

"I don't even know where he is," you shrugged, but that wasn't the answer he was expecting, or hoping for.

"That's not what I asked."

You placed your hand overtop of Pierre's and gave it a squeeze, "Let's just watch the match, yeah?"

And you both did, for a while. Both of you pretending that you weren't subtly looking for the British driver in the stands.

Only Pierre didn't find Lando first. You did.

And it was on complete accident.

At the end of one of the sets, a young fan approached Charles from the right and naturally both you and Pierre turned your heads to watch the adorable interaction.

And that's when you saw Lando. Just a few metres down. Sitting in the same section as you but at the complete opposite end and a few rows up.

You could have pretended you didn't see him if he wasn't looking your way, but his eyes found yours in a heartbeat. He was wearing a light pink shirt that looked good against his tan skin. He was sitting with Max who was too engrossed with his phone. And you had officially been staring for too long.

Pierre glanced at you and then followed your line of sight up and over his shoulder. When he spotted Lando, Pierre gave him a friendly wave, mostly because it would look back on all of you if any rumours of bad blood resurfaced.

Lando waved back with two fingers, clearly directing it at Pierre because you hadn't done anything since seeing him. It wasn't until Lando looked forwards again did Pierre squeeze your leg, pulling your attention to him.

"You can say hi to him," Pierre told you. He didn't need to give you permission, he knew you would have gotten up and said hi if you wanted to. His words were more of a reminder. Lando was one of your oldest friends, it was almost strange that you hadn't said anything.

"Maybe later," you smiled. "Set's about to start."

"Oh now you care about tennis," Pierre smirked leaning in to kiss the side of your head. You tilted your head towards him and rested it on his shoulder for a minute as you returned to watching the game.

But you couldn't focus for long. You straightened up and glanced over your shoulder, hoping to see Lando again, which you did. He hadn't gone anywhere.

Pierre didn't have to say a word. He just pulled his hand off of your leg and rested it in his lap, taking away the only mental barrier keeping you from seeing Lando.

He didn't want to keep you from talking to him. He wasn't going to stop you either. It wasn't something he would have liked to see, but he loved you. He trusted you. He knew you didn't have those feelings for him anymore.

You loved Pierre. So much.

But that didn't mean you ready to open up the door to a friendship with Lando just yet.

So you settled on giving Lando a gentle smile. Something that would get the message across that you weren't ignoring him, you were acknowledging him, but you still needed time.

Lando respected that and he smiled back. He noticed that your smile didn't quite reach your eyes but there was a good chance his didn't either. It was clear there was a lot that was unsaid between you, and would remain unsaid, and Lando just had to accept that.

You and Pierre looked good together.

As you dropped your head to his shoulder, Lando told himself not to think about how you used to do that with him if you were ever watching a movie. You nudged your knee against Pierre's before you asked a question, something else you would do with Lando if you were confused about what was in front of you.

And then you reached for Pierre's hand.

While you had grabbed Lando's hand on multiple occasions, he had never brought your intertwined fingers up to his lips to kiss your knuckles like Pierre was doing now. A new kind of smile spread across your face as Pierre rested your connected hands in his lap, a smile that Lando didn't ever see, or if he did, didn't recognize what it was at the time.

Pierre made you happy. Ridiculously happy. Lando knew that he would never have been able to make you that happy.

But he kept glancing your way throughout the rest of the tennis match, waiting, hoping that you would look up at him again.

Only you never did. You didn't need to.

bro if this is kinda sad im sorry but like we all know their relationship ended with some uncertainty so like there is no happy platonic ending for them, not yet at least. i just wanted to write this bc it shows growth in this (fictional) friendship. its not over, it'll never be completely over but maybe i just have to write another blurb about them actually talking again for the first time

#holllandtrash #lando norris one shot #lando norris #lando norris au #ln4 #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly #f1 one shot #f1 requests #pg10

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jaegeraether · 9 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 51)

Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (8)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan wasn’t in the starting line-up, just as she’d expected. She was however, subbed on at half time which she hadn’t. She’d expected to be subbed on much later than that. The game against West Ham was tough, and she felt her lungs burning as she covered more ground that she had all season. As the sub, she knew she was fresher than the starting players and so she pushed herself further and chased the ball around the field, though she felt she was barely making an impact and became increasingly frustrated which led to her shouting and throwing her arms up. After all this time, she still didn’t understand why she became so frustrated and angry on the field; perhaps it was because she’d blame herself when things didn’t go right. The thoughts of being dropped from the England squad and leaving Arsenal without Jonas even bothering to fight for her also weighed on her mind when it came to decision making, especially the split-second ones on the field.

She’d expected herself to have a fun, calm game after spending the night before with YFN at Lucy’s apartment in London. They ordered some health-ish take-out because Lucy’s London apartment obviously didn’t have any fresh food of course and had fun at home with Blu, entertaining him and talking all things from Kyra’s little date with Courtney to where they’d be spending Christmas.

‘You should be happy!’ she almost yelled at herself as she threw her arms up in frustration at the player who’d tripped her teammate.

She looked for YFN on the side-line, her eyes wandering over the numerous purple and yellow hoodies and beanies until she found her already watching her instead of the argument between the player and the ref. She looked freezing cold, her nose red and her arms around herself but when they caught eyes, she gave her a supportive dimply smirk and thumbs up. Jordan couldn’t help but smile back. YFN placed her hand on her chest and gave an obvious deep breath in and out; a sign for Jordan to do the same which she did. Much better. She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the Australian and turned her attention back to the game. The rest of the game was more chaotic as it went. Five minutes of overtime were added and they were drawn 2-2. In the 91st minute, she had the perfect view behind Rachel Daly to see her volley a ball from a header straight into the net. 3-2. Jordan ran to her excited and grabbed her in a hug, along with the rest of the team.

That eased some tension only temporarily though because the West Ham players were not giving up. They fought back more aggressively than they had all game, and as it was their home game in front of their screaming fans who urged them on. Jordan’s frustration built back up to the 95th minute where she was wiping the sweat from her brow and her lungs were on fire. Her teammate Alisha Lehmann fouled a player in front of her and Jordan ran over to grab the ball, just hoping to drag the time out. One of the West Ham players grabbed at the ball and shoved her until the ref held up their yellow card. She dropped the ball and tried to explain but knew she was in the wrong. She was just trying to give her teammates some extra breathing time to keep defending before the final whistle blew and if she was completely honest, the West Ham player had been an annoyance all game.

They started again and West Ham managed to score a corner, and even their Captain and goalkeeper Mackenzie Arnold came down for it. They were into the 96th minute with no whistle blown. The ball went up and for a single panicked moment, she thought there was a goal but Daphne van Domselaar, her goalkeeper teammate, managed to stop it on the line. There was one final shot from outside the box but that missed also. The final whistle blew and she let out a sigh of relief. They’d won!

She shook hands with everyone and grabbed the first water bottle she could find, along with a jacket. It was so cold she’d been wearing gloves for the game. When she was done with the team requirements, she ran over to YFN who caught her in a big, warm hug.

“Great game, Dory! You must be tired, yeah?”

“Dying!” she groaned.

“You played fifty-one minutes and it was high, high intensity. Jeez, I’d love to see how much ground you covered.”

She hadn’t known she’d played so long. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I need a shower and bed.”

She laughed. “You’ll have that soon enough… before your date that is.”

She groaned again. She was so tired she couldn’t even comprehend trying to navigate the awkwardness of whatever would happen with Leah in a few hours. She was tempted to cancel but YFN gave her a look and she knew she was right.

Jordan and Rachel Daly did a Lumos interview with Mackenzie Arnold and Risa Shimizu from West Ham with YFN asking questions. Jordan loved seeing YFN at work and it was so cold that she was cuddled up to her. The interview didn’t last too long, just enough to get a few laughs and good content before they said their goodbyes. Before they went, YFN gathered some information about the players in regards to interviews, what they’d want to talk about more or less etc, and asked general opinions of some of the ideas she had floating around like interviews outside of stadiums doing different things. Jordan loved the puppy interview suggestion best and YFN didn’t look surprised as she put her down for that.

“The debrief should be quick and then I’ll get changed and meet you at the car,” she said to the Australian after they’d finished.

She looked at her watch. “We’re still on time if we leave in 15. I need to talk to my group anyways. I’ll see you outside!”

After battling the traffic, Jordan managed to drop her off just in time. It’s lucky they’d done most of their speaking about Leah in the car as when they arrived it was just a jump out and run situation for YFN. Once her little suitcase and backpack were out of the car, she jumped back in the car and leant over to wrap Jordan in a tight hug.

“I love you, Dory. Please go at your own pace and communicate, okay? Let her know what you need. She’ll listen.”

Jordan nodded against her. “Stay safe in Barca and give Ridley a happy birthday for me.”

“Will do! Oh and here…” she removed the red house key from her keychain and gave it to Jordan. “Lucy’s house key. I’ll grab it when I get back.”

“I’ll try not to lose it,” she joked.

“With Lucy stalkers around? You’d better not!”

Jordan watched her walking away dragging her suitcase and smiled. She’d be with Lucy soon.

She drove to the apartment where she found a half-asleep Blu who must have been napping. Jordan gave him some love and attention and apologised for being gone. She took a shower and got changed into just a simple outfit; pants, shirt and a hoody, though she hesitated over how she looked. She found herself staring in the mirror, wondering if she should change or do her hair down rather than up. Eventually she became so annoyed with herself that she just gave up. She checked the Arsenal score so she’d know what mood to expect from Leah and saw that they’d won 3-0 against Brighton. Yep, she’d be happy. She loaded her luggage into the car before heading back inside for her most important item.

“Come on Blu, let’s go.” She picked the little guy up and took him outside, holding him close to keep him warm from the cold UK weather. She double checked that she locked the apartment properly before heading to the car and keeping the key safe there. There’s no way she was going to risk the crazies, especially with that YFN and Lucy had been through already.

The drive to Leah’s wasn’t far and even driving slower, it went quicker than usual because she was so nervous. She was still a little worked up about her game, let alone the idea of spending time with Leah.

She pulled up outside her apartment and gripped the steering wheel. Why was she doing this? Why was she going back to the person who’d caused her so much pain? They were so different in so many ways, which had to be expected as Leah was five years younger than her. Although she was mature for her age, and Jordan debatably less mature, they did have an incredible amount of similarities also. She thought back to the night before last and the feeling of Leah’s arms around her. Her smell, her feel, her warmth. Her words from the award night.

“I love you,” Leah said from the doorstep, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I made a decision without involving you. I thought I was protecting you, but I took your choice away. I never stopped and will never stop loving you. I can’t change the past, but I can tell you here and now that I’ll give you everything, all of me, and I’ll never make a decision without you again. I’ve lost a year with you, and I can’t stand to lose another second. If you take me back and realise you can’t trust me….then I’ll bear that burden of pain and I need you to know that I’d never beg you to stay just for my feelings. I’d hold the door open and offer you everything I had, because you deserve everything, Jord. Just…think on it.”

Jordan felt a tear roll down her cheek as she remembered that.

“You’re my person. I love you, Jord.”

Blue yapped from next to her which got her attention and she wiped the tear from her cheek and reached over to pat him.

“Sorry Blu, I’m just a little overwhelmed. Are you ready to see Leah for the first time in a year? She’s still the same…I mean she is in the best ways.” She put her hand out which he nuzzled and she picked him up. “Up you come my boy, let’s go see if she’s learnt how to cook, hm?”

Jordan rang the front door bell and waited, Blu cuddled in her arms and getting a little heavy. She heard a crashing sound and the patter of feet before the door was opened to reveal an overwhelmed looking Leah. As soon as she saw Jordan, she gave that smile of hers. Not her public smile, but her genuine one. The one that reached her eyes and crinkled at the corners of them.

Leah opened her mouth and hesitated before closing it and giving a little wave. Her eyes fell down to Blu and she reached out half-way, as if to ask, before Jordan nodded and stepped forward to hand him over. It was an awkward exchange of body parts, moving a dog from chest to chest but it was well worth his excited yaps and licking of her chin. They stepped inside and when she let Blu go, he was straight into exploring the place he hadn’t been in over a year. His legs were short though, so that took a while. Leah looked at her and hesitated again as if waiting for something. She gave up quickly and gestured to the living room where she led the way. Only when she turned did Jordan realised she’d probably been waiting for a hug. They walking into the living area which was overlooked by the kitchen and it looked like chaos. Like Leah was cooking for a whole family. She had a large amount of food and was overwhelmed with the amount she had to do, it seemed. Jordan couldn’t help but chuckle at that as Leah gestured her into a kitchen counter seat and put a drink in front of her. Jordan noticed a little whiteboard that was on the kitchen counter and Leah wrote on it, holding it up.

‘Sorry dinner isn’t ready – girls stopped by and wouldn’t leave.’

“That’s okay,” Jordan shrugged. “What’s for dinner?”

Leah rubbed her writing off and changed it. ‘Roast.’

Jordan nodded, impressed, before she looked around again and saw the mess. That’s when she noticed that the music playing was some of Jordan’s favourites. Her throwbacks and the songs she’d had on repeat for weeks.

“Leah… you can change back to your music if you want, it’s okay.”

Leah shook her head.

Jordan sighed. “At least let’s go half-half?”

She thought for a second before she nodded slowly in agreement and took her phone to alter the music to half country and half Jordan’s favourites before Leah got back to work.

Jordan’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it.

Katie: Hey chicken, give us a text when you’re almost here. We’ll be awake until midnight. Have fun x

Jordan: Will do, not sure how long I’ll be. Putting my phone away now x

Jordan always thought it was rude to have a phone out when you were with guests or… whatever this was. She looked back up and saw Leah with her head in her hands, her elbows on the counter as she read from a book. She was reading instructions? She looked stressed. Still reading, she pushed herself back upright and grabbed the knife, starting to cut the potatoes when she gasped and dropped the knife, grabbing at her finger. Jordan was up immediately and at her side.

“Here…come here,” she said as she took her wrist and put her finger under the tap. She examined it and was happy that it didn’t look deep, just a nick. She found Leah’s first aid kid and when she realised automatically she’d done just that, she turned to see Leah looking at her with so much emotion she could barely contain her tears. Of course, Jordan knew where her first aid kit was. And of course, she’d jumped up immediately to help her. Jordan was always worrying about other people. She returned with the kit and plastered her finger up gently, both women relishing the soft touches they shared.

“How about I help you cook, yes?”

Leah thought about it, obviously not wanting to admit she needed help. She took the marker and wrote on the whiteboard again. ‘I’m sorry.’

“Don’t be, we’ve both had busy days. Let’s see if we can work this out together, hm?”

Jordan helped Leah to make dinner. They moved silently and seamlessly together in the kitchen, Jordan saying instructions out loud from the book as she was also not great at cooking. There would be times where they’d run into each other or brush up against each other, and she couldn’t say she didn’t like it.

They finished making dinner and plated up, Leah also putting food out for Blu before they sat down to eat across the table from each other. Jordan had thought it would be strange with Leah not speaking but it was surprisingly relaxing not just for her, but she could tell it was for Leah also. There were no expectations, no worries about arguments or pain through words, they were just together and enjoying each other’s company. Both worked symbiotically as if no time had passed and from the little looks Jordan accidentally made of her apartment, it seemed very much the same as it had done a year ago. The same smell, same aura, same furniture, even the same country music. It was… nice. Really nice.

They finished dinner which was surprisingly edible and washed up, packing the leftovers away in Leah’s fridge. Jordan turned to the whiteboard again.

‘Movie?’

“Okay.”

She settled onto the couch and Leah joined shortly, bringing what seemed to be a new circular dog bed with her. She put it down on the carpet in front of them and Blu made himself at home, spinning a few times on the spot before he laid down. Leah gave a happy grin at the sight of that and sat down close to Jordan. The couch was large, but now they were so close they were almost touching. Jordan felt giddy at the thought that Leah had gone out to buy a bed just so he’d have something to fall asleep in. But it wasn’t only that. It was the dog food she’d bought. And the music she was playing. And the fact that she’d attempted to make a roast dinner when she couldn’t cook at all. Leah was trying.

The movie started and the title popped up on screen; The Lord of the Rings. Jordan scoffed at the audacity.

“Did you pick this just because it’s three hours long?!” she asked accusingly.

Leah gave a sheepish grin and tilted her head to see it Jordan was actually mad. She wasn’t. She was enjoying their night. For some reason, just being near Leah calmed her. It stopped her negative thoughts and overthinking and just simplified everything for her.

They were half an hour in when Leah wrote on her whiteboard again.

‘I bought cake for dessert. You had a hard game, I thought you’d might want some?’

If anything was a way to Jordan’s heart, it was cake. She loved cake more than any other human. She nodded excitedly and Leah smiled, victorious. They both got up to stretch and wandered to the kitchen, Blu following his mums. Leah opened the fridge and paused as if she were malfunctioning. She started shifting items around and eventually closed the door frustratedly and grabbed her phone. She read a message and shook her head before telling Jordan.

‘Kyra stole the cake when they stopped by after the game… I’m sorry. I’ll go get some from the shops around the corner.’

“No, you don’t have to do tha-” Jordan started to say, only to be cut off by Leah’s whiteboard.

‘Yes I do. I’ll be back soon.’

“At least let me come with you? It’s cold and dark and Blu needs a walk today…”

They strode in happy silence, all clothed up and Jordan wearing one of Leah’s beanies she’d offered her. She let Leah hold Blu’s lead while they went on the walk that they’d done so often before. The night air was cold but it didn’t stop Jordan from feeling the warming presence of the woman next to her. She wondered if their little knuckle and shoulder grazes were on purpose or not and decided she didn’t care. She liked it.

They reached the store and Jordan stood outside with Blu while Leah ducked inside for the cake Jordan felt she so deserved after her game. As she was standing outside holding Blu in her arms to keep the little short hair from freezing, she was approached by a few people she recognised as media for women’s football, but not the good kind…the vultures.

She had a few microphones put in her face and the brightness of the video camera blinded her so she had to step back.

“Jordan Nobbs! How do you feel after your win against West Ham?”

She put her hand up. “No interviews, please.”

They tried to ask her more things, and each time she told them to just leave her alone but they were insistent. “Another thing, is it true that you and Leah Williamson are dating again?”

“What?”

“Come on, you can tell us!”

“She said to leave her alone!” Leah snapped and stepped in front of Jordan and Blu. Leah was usually the polite, well-mannered Captain in front of media. She wasn’t right now, and the sound of her voice sparked something in Jordan.

“Just a few questions Leah, sorry we didn’t realise you were here.”

“I know you better than that, Stanley, and I need to say that I’m very disappointed in all three of you for approaching her when I specifically asked you not to! You know what that means…”

She’d asked them to not approach her? Leah was still protecting her and she didn’t even realise how much.

“It was just a few questions, Leah. No harm.”

“This is disgusting, disgusting behaviour. I expected more from all of you. As promised, from now on, all of the media I do will be through Lumos. Please tell your boss.”

They started to argue when Leah put her arm around the pair and walked them away, her hand rubbing Jordan’s shoulder as they walked. When they were far enough away, she dropped her hand and gave her space back. Jordan didn’t say anything, but she missed her touch as soon as it was gone.

Soon enough they were settled back into the couch with their cake and Jordan ate excitedly, groaning at the first bite.

“Oh god that hits the spot. Thanks, Lea.”

Leah’s eyes softened and she looked back at her plate with a little smile. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it.

YFN: Why am I getting second-hand news that you’re only going to be using Lumos for media from now on? Is everything okay?

Leah: I asked the reporters to not approach Jordan outside of football and they did. Fair punishment for them, I reckon.

YFN: So it’s true?”

Leah: Yeah if that’s okay?

YFN: Mate, perfectly fine with me. Everything okay with this little interaction?

Leah: Everything’s fine – I sorted them. Jordan’s okay, she has cake.

YFN: Ah, yes she’s fine then *laughing emoji* I’ll leave you to it. We’ll chat about this later. x

Jordan looked curious and so Leah showed her the few messages they’d exchanged.

“You’re serious about that?”

Leah nodded.

The movie continued and Blu went back to sleep. Leah and Jordan were so close that it was almost impossible to focus on anything else. Something loud and violent happened in the movie and Jordan couldn’t help but jump and grab onto Leah, putting her head behind her shoulder.

“Oh no, no, no…tell me when that part’s over please.”

Leah chuckled and let her arm be grabbed by her ex. When the scary part was over, she tapped her gently and Jordan looked at the TV again, but she didn’t let Leah’s arm go. She dragged it over further and hugged herself around it with both arms, her head finding Leah’s shoulder.

Jordan felt Leah let out a bigger sigh than usual and without lifting her head she asked. “What’s wrong, Lea?”

Leah took her whiteboard with her spare hand and put it on her lap to write when Jordan’s hand touched hers softly. Leah paused and let Jordan gently take the whiteboard off of her lap and slide it back where it was. Hint taken.

“I just wanted everything tonight to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” she murmured, and she wasn’t lying. “We cooked together, cleaned together, went for a walk with Blu and had dessert. And now we’re watching a movie together. How could it not be perfect?”

She felt the tension in Leah’s body leave as she softened and Jordan readjusted her grip on her arm and her head on her shoulder. She felt Leah’s head lean against the top of hers as they continued to watch the movie in silence.

It wasn’t long before Jordan was yawning and they were nowhere near the end of the film. Leah paused it.

Jordan lifted her head in question.

“That’s your third yawn, Jord.”

“So?”

“So that means your next will be your last before you’re asleep. And you know you’re more than welcome to stay here tonight but I have the feeling you’re going to want to go…”

Jordan hesitated as she thought before she nodded. “I need to go.”

Leah nodded also, as if she already knew. “Back to Lucy’s?”

“To Katie and Caitlin’s actually.”

“Oh… I didn’t know.”

Jordan was surprised at that. She thought they would have mentioned it at the game but obviously they’d respected Jordan’s privacy.

“It’s just for the night so I’m not alone.”

Leah gave a melancholy smile. “I know how that feels.”

There was a pause then. Jordan broke it by leaning over and putting her forehead on her shoulder in an unspoken word. She rested it there for a little before she released her and stood.

Blu was hard to wake, and Jordan felt bad that she was waking him for yet another trip. Leah took a few leftovers and cake and wrapped them up, putting them in a bag for Jordan to take to Katie and Caitlin. She helped her load them and Blu in the car while Jordan texted Katie that she was on her way.

They were stood in the doorway, Leah looking like she didn’t want her to go. She didn’t blame her. Her whole body was telling her to stay. It was only her fear of pain that was driving her to go, and it sure was strong.

She wrapped her arms around Leah who did so in kind; the two holding each other close for a while. Leah was so warm and soft and she just felt safe.

After a while Jordan spoke. “Thank you for tonight, it was perfect. I know Blu missed you a lot too.”

“It was really good to see him, and you,” Leah murmured huskily.

“Can I…” Jordan trailed off and Leah’s arms tightened.

“You’d like to pencil in another hug?”

“Yes please,” she whispered. YFN was right. Hugs were healing. She knew that because right here and now in Leah’s arms, she was happy.

“Whenever you want, just let me know.”

Leah watched from the driveway as Jordan backed out and drove off. They’d only been together three hours but it had lifted both of their moods to a level of happiness they hadn’t felt in a while. Jordan gave her a little wave as she drove off.

It was just clicking over to 10pm when Jordan arrived at Katie and Caitlin’s. She grabbed her overnight back pack and Blu and knocked on the door. Caitlin opened it with wild eyes.

“Did you see the messages?!”

“What?”

She dragged her inside and Jordan barely managed to put Blu down before she was being pulled into the kitchen.

“Did you see?!” Katie almost yelled, worried.

“See what?”

“Lucy’s messages!” They said in unison.

She frowned and looked at her phone that had been in her pocket on silent. She read the messages from Lucy and gasped out loud.

Oh no… YFN! What the fuck?

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