#To the Ends of the Earth part 19

[ourloveisforthelovely]

To the Ends of the Earth Part 19

Supernatural

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary:  AU Supernatural. Gabriel is tired of Micahel and Raphael’s constant interfering and dictating what’s best for him. Little do they know that he’s been sneaking to earth to fall in love with you. When he convinces you to run away with him, all hell is about to break loose.

Link to Part 18

Song in Chapter: “Running up that Hill” by Kate Bush

_______

“I didn’t watch…watch. I just overheard what was going through both of your heads. It wasn’t hard to miss. Anyway, long story short, you're going to be a mommy. Congratulations!”

You stood looking at Chuck stupidly. Did he really say what you thought he said?

“Are you sure that you aren’t just screwing with me?”

Chuck scoffed.

“No, this is no joke. I have heard what you have been thinking about wanting a baby with Gabriel.”

You held a hand up. All of this was a little much. Even if this was what you wanted something inside you had already accepted that it wouldn’t happen.

“Look, wanting and getting are two totally different things. You can’t always get what you want. Gabriel is going to freak out. He’s totally against making a Nephilim child. I ask questions about it and he will hardly answer them. Whatever you beat into his head years ago has stuck.”

Chuck was still smiling like a fool.

“Funny how things change. Y/n, I know what you want deep in your heart. I also know how you have tried to talk to Gabriel about this and how he reacts. I promise it will be okay. I’m sure Gabriel will be fine once you explain everything to him.”

You shook your head and started laughing coldly.

“Oh no, pal. You are telling him! You are not going to leave until you tell him every single grimy little detail. If you think that you aren’t, ward your ass here.”

“Tell me what?”

Both Chuck and yourself froze. You didn’t want to turn around to face Gabriel. You weren’t sure how much he had heard. The fact that he wasn’t trying to attack Chuck told you that he hadn’t heard everything.

Finally, you turned to face your lover. Gabriel stood in the doorway with his shirt halfway unbuttoned. He was clearly coming to see what was taking you so long to come back to bed. Gabriel was looking between Chuck and yourself with a curious frown on his face.

“Gabriel.”

You whispered his name as he came over to stand near you. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Chuck.

“Tell me what? Who are you, pal?”

Gabriel repeated. It was clear to you that Chuck was keeping his “real” persona under wraps for the moment. Chuck probably knew better than to just drop the bomb on Gabriel…at least you hoped.

You, meanwhile, wrapped your hand around Gabriel’s as Sam and Dean came skidding into the room. Both froze seeing Chuck. Dean automatically groaned.

“Oh crap, here we go.”

Chuck grinned and waved to both Winchester brothers.

“Sam, Dean…good to see you.”

Gabriel meanwhile, was getting even more annoyed. He had no idea who this guy was, even using all of his archangel power. This inability was quickly driving Gabriel up the wall.

“Hey, who the hell are you?”

Chuck turned back to Gabriel with a smirk. He didn’t say it but he was glad to know that Gabriel was happy with you. The fact the soul mate bond worked so well was yet another testament to Chuck knowing what he was doing. Chuck didn’t want to brag but he knew that you were just “perfect” for his son. Gabriel needed someone who truly understood him and that was most definitely you.

Snapping his fingers, Chuck let the “hidden glamour” fade away so Gabriel could clearly see who he was. As Chuck expected, Gabriel didn’t look the least bit happy or surprised to see him. Gabriel stood with an insolent cold frown on his face.

You inched closer to Gabriel holding his hand a little tighter. It was probably a vain hope to think that you would be able to hold him back but that didn’t stop you from trying. The less damage that Gabriel could attempt to inflect the better.

Sam and Dean both winced as Gabriel started laughing. He took a few moments before stopping instantly.

“Hello, dad. What’s it been? One trillion years…give or take a few years.”

Chuck nodded.

“Something like that. It's good to see you, son.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“I truly wish that I could say the same. Now back to what you were saying to Y/n. What do you need to tell me?”

Chuck sighed.

“Straight to business, huh? You don’t want to catch up?”

Gabriel stared at Chuck as if he had lost his flipping mind.

“Let's see…you created everything then abandoned us all…yep that covers it. Now start talking before I leave.”

Chuck turned his attention to you with an “innocent smile.”

“Well, okay fine. I suppose you are right on that one. So, you know that I paired you with Y/n for a reason, right?”

Gabriel’s eyes flickered over to you. You were looking at him carefully almost pleading for him to remain calm. Gabriel took a breath before turning back to Chuck.

“Yes. That is the one favor that you have done for me.”

Chuck grinned.

“Splendid. Well, I’m adding to that gift. Y/n is pregnant.”

The whole room fell silent. Sam and Dean’s mouths dropped. Dean said “son of a bitch” under his breath while Sam pinched his arm to shut his elder brother up. You groaned, hoping that Chuck would have told Gabriel a bit more “gently” than that…but no.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Gabriel for a moment. When you finally got brave enough his face was stone-cold archangel fury. His amber eyes were locked on Chuck as if he was trying to determine if this was some fucked up joke.

Had Chuck really said what he thought? Gabriel couldn’t move. It felt as if the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. Of all of the shit that he had been through in the past few years, this…this right here had to be the worst. Gabriel never…NEVER planned on this happening. He had been so careful with you. Now here his father stood with this stupid shit-eating grin on his face.

Gabriel finally pulled himself from his thoughts before quickly turning to you. He placed a hand on your stomach and closed his eyes. Sure enough, in his mind, he could sense the life growing within you.

“Is this some joke? Take this away from her right now. I will not let the one human I love die because of your poor decisions!”

Gabriel nearly shouted at Chuck. The lights flickered in the room making both Sam and Dean back up. Chuck looked around as the smile faded from his face.

“I thought that you would be happy.”

Gabriel’s mouth fell open.

“Happy?! HAPPY?! Did you really just say that to me? You were the one who declared nephilim to be forbidden. You made a slide show that you made all of us sit through! How about all of those angels that you ordered us to kill? Now here you are cursing her. I mean it, take it out of her now!”

Dean stepped in.

“Chuck, you better do what he says! I am not losing my sister because you want to play grandpa! This isn’t just a normal child…this is the child of a damn archangel. We know what happened to Kelly with Jack. She died. My sister isn’t going to be some casualty. Gabriel, talk some goddamn sense into her!”

Dean nearly screamed the word casualty. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet your older brother’s eyes. Without looking at him, you knew what he was thinking. Dean was clearly thinking of how he damn nearly raised you. He invested so much time and love. Losing his baby sister wasn’t something that he was ready to accept.

“She isn’t going to die. I already promised her that.”

Chuck started before blinking a few times before looking at you. Gabriel glowered at Chuck.

“WE don’t trust your promises. I know how they have gone.”

“What do you want, Y/n?”

Chuck asked. Gabriel, Sam, and Dean all looked at you with petrified eyes. You swallowed nervously. For the first time, you sat back and considered everything. In ways, you wanted to agree with Gabriel. This was a bad idea. You knew how hard things were for Jack to adjust to what he was.

On the other hand, you knew that you were having Gabriel’s baby. You were getting what your heart secretly desired…a child with the man that you loved. The moment that Gabriel put his hand on your stomach and confirmed that there was actually life there it made it seem even more real. You knew Gabriel would know if a baby was there or not.

“I don’t want to give the baby up.”

You said in a weak tone. Gabriel’s mouth dropped. He looked, if possible, even more devastated. Running a hand through his hair, Gabriel was about to lose his grip on reality. He quickly turned to you taking both of your hands in his.

“No, we are not doing this. We can’t do this! Y/n, I know what you want but it's not happening.”

Dean came back in. He was nearly yelling too. As much as he wanted to keep a grip on himself, he couldn’t.

“This will kill you! You don’t get to just check out of our lives because you want to play house.”

Gabriel didn’t move to look at his father. He kept his amber eyes locked on you. Your heart ached at the look in his eyes. Gabriel looked ready to cry…or burn the world down. It was a real toss-up on which one it was.

“Y/n, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. You can’t be making deals with God! What about me? What about us, Y/n?! I can’t just spend your whole life looking out for you and then fall in love with you to lose you.”

Chuck pipped in.

“She didn’t make a deal with me but now that you mention it…”

Chuck appeared in front of you. He gave you a gentle nod while totally ignoring his trembling son.

“Y/n, I agree to not let this baby kill you. Everything will work out and you’ll survive to have a future.”

He held his hand out. You looked down at his hand and ignored Gabriel who was pleading with you in your mind to not do it. You tentatively reached out and shook Chuck’s hand.

“I have to get out of here!”

Dean yelled before stomping out of the room without another word. Chuck briefly watched Dean before turning back to you.

“You have yourself a deal. See you soon.”

Chuck vanished from the room leaving everyone in an uncomfortable silence. Sam was frozen in his place. He didn’t know what to say. All Sam could do was pray that Chuck was telling the truth. Sam was in the same position as Dean. He couldn’t handle the thought of losing his only sister.

You turned to Gabriel who looked on the edge of totally losing it. Biting your lip, you gently reached for his hand.

“Gabriel, it will be fine.”

He laughed bitterly before running a hand through his hair. Gabriel didn’t know what to say or do. Throwing a tantrum would do no good. He could “terminate” the pregnancy when you weren’t awake…that was an option. Something told Gabriel to not even think about it. You would resent him forever. The last thing that Gabriel even wanted to consider was losing his soul mate due to his own actions. He wouldn’t be able to handle you kicking him out of your life then having to sit back and watch you move on. The mere thought of you moving on with someone else, someone human, enraged Gabriel even more.

“Come on, I need to get out of here.”

Gabriel reached for your hand and pulled you toward the garage. He needed air and to be out of the bunker!

10 minutes later, the two of you sat in silence as Gabriel sped down a dark Kansas street. You sat in the passenger seat looking dead ahead. After a moment, you turned to look at Gabriel carefully.

“Please say something.”

Gabriel’s hand tightened on the steering wheel.

“I can’t believe that you did it. You went and made a deal with God because you wanted something that is forbidden. After everything that you know…you go and shake his hand. Why do you think I have never spoken to you about this…or at least tried not to. Y/n, I have killed angels, their human brides, and their nephilim children! You have no idea how many people I have killed for this and now here we are doing it. You're going to die and I am going to be totally destroyed.”

You pressed your lips together before placing a hand on your still currently flat stomach.

“You heard him…he promised that I wouldn’t die.”

Gabriel trembled again.

“I have heard so many of his promises…and they were for nothing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be for us…not this. Everything was so good and now it's ruined! We are going through all of this shit with my brothers and now this.”

You couldn’t help but feel sorry for Gabriel and consider, again, your feelings. Were you being selfish? You couldn’t answer that question. Yes, you wanted this baby. After the shock of Chuck’s news wore off, you could admit that (even for a brief moment) you were happy. You were getting what you wanted. Now here was the love of your life going to absolute pieces.

“Gabriel, can you pull over?”

Gabriel immediately did as you asked him and pulled to the side of the road. He didn’t, however, move to look at you. He looked dead ahead with eyes full of rage and absolute sadness. All he could think of was losing you. You were what was important to him. The baby, he had no emotion for whatsoever. If you told him to get rid of it, Gabriel wouldn’t be sad. He would be damn elated!

The silence between the two of you was deafening. You wanted to say something, anything, to make Gabriel feel better but you knew that you couldn’t. Nothing that you could say would bring him any peace. Unfortunately, you had a feeling that this would be the way things would be for a very long time.

“If I could say something to make you feel better…”

You started. Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Nothing is going to make me feel better until that thing is out of you and you're normal again.

You immediately closed your mouth and let the silence of the car, minus the radio playing lightly sink back in.

Oh, come on, baby. Oh, come on, darling Let me steal this moment from you now Oh, come on, angel. Come on, come on, darling Let's exchange the experience, ooh

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God And I'd get him to swap our places I'd be running up that road Be running up that hill With no problem

Gabriel looked down at the radio with an icy glare.

“I don’t know about you but I have heard enough from God to do me a lifetime.”

_______

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @justfinishthis @georgeweasleydumbhoe @siriuslyceleste @coffeeaddictednymph @acciosiriusblack @millies0bsimp @fific7 @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsval @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @saramaple @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @missgorldafirst @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @stelleduarte @mentally-unstable-hoe @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @yousmellllikecaca @lostarc @un-lovesherself @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @mimisparkle12 @rubyroscoe1 @ad-astra-again @criminalyetminimal @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner @tas898 @knight-of-gleefulness @li0nh34rt @untoldshortsofthefandoms @melaninnbarbie @marichromatic 

#Supernatural #Gabriel #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Gabriel x Reader #Reader x Gabriel #Supernatural Fan Fiction #supernatural fanfiction #SPN #Gabriel fics #Winchester sister reader #Chuck Shurley #Chuck causing problems #spn fics #Gabriel x Reader fics #AU Story #To the Ends of the Earth #To the Ends of the Earth part 19 #update

[nasa]

What We Learned from Flying a Helicopter on Mars

The Ingenuity Mars Helicopter made history – not only as the first aircraft to perform powered, controlled flight on another world – but also for exceeding expectations, pushing the limits, and setting the stage for future NASA aerial exploration of other worlds.

Built as a technology demonstration designed to perform up to five experimental test flights over 30 days, Ingenuity performed flight operations from the Martian surface for almost three years. The helicopter ended its mission on Jan. 25, 2024, after sustaining damage to its rotor blades during its 72nd flight.

So, what did we learn from this small but mighty helicopter?

We can fly rotorcraft in the thin atmosphere of other planets.

Ingenuity proved that powered, controlled flight is possible on other worlds when it took to the Martian skies for the first time on April 19, 2021.

Flying on planets like Mars is no easy feat: The Red Planet has a significantly lower gravity – one-third that of Earth’s – and an extremely thin atmosphere, with only 1% the pressure at the surface compared to our planet. This means there are relatively few air molecules with which Ingenuity’s two 4-foot-wide (1.2-meter-wide) rotor blades can interact to achieve flight.

Ingenuity performed several flights dedicated to understanding key aerodynamic effects and how they interact with the structure and control system of the helicopter, providing us with a treasure-trove of data on how aircraft fly in the Martian atmosphere.

Now, we can use this knowledge to directly improve performance and reduce risk on future planetary aerial vehicles.

Creative solutions and “ingenuity” kept the helicopter flying longer than expected.

Over an extended mission that lasted for almost 1,000 Martian days (more than 33 times longer than originally planned), Ingenuity was upgraded with the ability to autonomously choose landing sites in treacherous terrain, dealt with a dead sensor, dusted itself off after dust storms, operated from 48 different airfields, performed three emergency landings, and survived a frigid Martian winter.

Fun fact: To keep costs low, the helicopter contained many off-the-shelf-commercial parts from the smartphone industry - parts that had never been tested in deep space. Those parts also surpassed expectations, proving durable throughout Ingenuity’s extended mission, and can inform future budget-conscious hardware solutions.

There is value in adding an aerial dimension to interplanetary surface missions.

Ingenuity traveled to Mars on the belly of the Perseverance rover, which served as the communications relay for Ingenuity and, therefore, was its constant companion. The helicopter also proved itself a helpful scout to the rover.

After its initial five flights in 2021, Ingenuity transitioned to an “operations demonstration,” serving as Perseverance’s eyes in the sky as it scouted science targets, potential rover routes, and inaccessible features, while also capturing stereo images for digital elevation maps.

Airborne assets like Ingenuity unlock a new dimension of exploration on Mars that we did not yet have – providing more pixels per meter of resolution for imaging than an orbiter and exploring locations a rover cannot reach.

Tech demos can pay off big time.

Ingenuity was flown as a technology demonstration payload on the Mars 2020 mission, and was a high risk, high reward, low-cost endeavor that paid off big. The data collected by the helicopter will be analyzed for years to come and will benefit future Mars and other planetary missions.

Just as the Sojourner rover led to the MER-class (Spirit and Opportunity) rovers, and the MSL-class (Curiosity and Perseverance) rovers, the team believes Ingenuity’s success will lead to future fleets of aircraft at Mars.

In general, NASA’s Technology Demonstration Missions test and advance new technologies, and then transition those capabilities to NASA missions, industry, and other government agencies. Chosen technologies are thoroughly ground- and flight-tested in relevant operating environments — reducing risks to future flight missions, gaining operational heritage and continuing NASA’s long history as a technological leader.

You can fall in love with robots on another planet.

Following in the tracks of beloved Martian rovers, the Ingenuity Mars Helicopter built up a worldwide fanbase. The Ingenuity team and public awaited every single flight with anticipation, awe, humor, and hope.

Check out #ThanksIngenuity on social media to see what’s been said about the helicopter’s accomplishments.

Learn more about Ingenuity’s accomplishments here. And make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#tech #technology #futurism #space #robotics #inspiration #science #planets #NASA #aviation #Youtube

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

#scream #scream 1996 #ghostface #poly!ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #housewife #x reader #slashers #slasher x reader #horror

[fangirl-dot-com]

Across Every Universe - Part 2

Well, I didn't expect this work to get this long. It was only supposed to be short but then I worked on it all day and for multiple hours on end?? I guess I just enjoy this concept so much! These are basically the stories I wanted to put in last time, but they needed their own chapter to truly shine.

I know people asked for Arthur and reader romance, but To Do Is To Dare has always been a racing fic first and romance second. I tried to add in all the people I could without going crazy with the plot line or it would have gotten out of hand (or more than it already is). There is a lot of Max and Charles (my two favorite boys on the grid).

If anyone has anything against Lestappen - there's the door :)

Please enjoy :)

Earth 33891

“Please stand for his Majesty King Max Emilian Verstappen, King of the Netherlands and Prince of Orange.” 

Max always hated these announcements. Like, why did they have to always say his middle name and all the titles that came with it? He put on a gentle smile and waved to the crowds around him. Thankfully, his dressers had decided to forgo the kingly robes and opted for a nice suit with his pins. Definitely fitting for the Dutch Grand Prix. 

This would be his ninth to attend since taking the throne at 18-years-old after his father passed away. The kind always enjoyed seeing the Orange Army at the home race. 

After greeting everyone, he was led to the special box. Apparently, more than one royal had decided to attend as well. Max’s shoulders loosened when his eyes landed on a familiar figure. 

“Charles!”

Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, The Sovereign Prince of the Principality of Monaco. Max was always glad that his mother only chose one middle name for him instead of three. 

The prince’s green eyes widened at the sight of the Dutchman. He waved off whoever he was speaking to and all but glided across the room. The two forwent the formalities and brought each other into a hug. 

Max leaned back a bit to look the Monegasque in the eye. 

“What are you doing here? Monaco not enough for you?” 

There was a playful glint in his eyes as Charles rolled his. The brunet gestured to a plush couch in the corner, one that Max was excited to sit in. 

Charles began to speak, a small smile on his face, “Well as you know, my brother is currently dating one of the drivers on the grid. And it is her home race so Arthur wanted to come watch.” 

Max nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew exactly who Charles was talking about.

Y/n L/n, the only female driver, who currently was working on her fourth World Champion.

“And where is your brother now?” 

“He’s in the garage,” Charles rolled his eyes. He had wanted to go, but an ambassador had insisted that he needed to talk to the prince. 

“Why don’t we head there. I always want to say hello to my race winner.” 

Now, Max and Y/n had a very loving sibling relationship. The king had watched her grow up karting and made sure to sponsor her and support her through her career. Without his support, the girl would not have been able to continue. Yet, when you put the royal Dutch crest on your Formula 3 car, someone has to know that it means something. 

This would be her 4th season in Red Bull, having been 19 when she joined in 2019. She was only 20 when she won her first World Championship, breaking the record for the youngest ever to dominate the sport. 

Now she was 24 and is on a path to win her fourth in only five races if she keeps up the winning streak. Max was only older by 3 years, yet he watched over her like a very protective older brother. 

He and Charles had made their way down to the pitlane, much to their advisors’ chagrin. They passed by the Mercedes garage to say hello to King Lewis Hamilton III and then George Russell, Duke of Sussex. The two Brits had been friends or well, colleagues, with the other two reigning monarchs for quite some time. They were currently backing Kimi Antonelli and Mick Schumacher, the current driver line up for Mercedes.

Right next to the silver garage stood a very orange and bright one. Max was excited to see Lando Norris, Duke of York also in attendance. He was very close with the two Aussie drivers, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. 

Down the line was Williams, who was attending to a very eager Logan Sargeant, the President of the United States’ kid. Max was fond of the blond and often said hello to him whenever he got the chance in diplomatic settings. 

But finally, they were able to reach the big navy garage. Max could definitely pick up Arthur’s almost French accent everywhere. But, his ears were tuned to the sound of your Dutch accent that was similar to his. 

“Geitje!” he called out, finding your blond hair against the navy racing suit. 

You looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation with your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes when you saw Max in his kingly splendor. You took a few steps toward the fellow Dutch and gave him a hug. 

“I told you to quit calling me that. I’m not a kid anymore, or was never a goat for that matter.” 

Charles took this moment to catch up with his brother. 

Max looked down at you fondly. “You’ll always be that small kid whose suit was two sizes too big on her.” 

You honestly wanted to cry, but you kept the tears in. There was a race that you needed to win. 

“Are you going to give me my trophy this year?” 

“Don’t I every year?” 

You looked up in mock thought. “Well, there was that one year that you had appendicitis and your mom gave me my trophy.” 

Max lightly nudged you. “That was one year, let it go.” 

You grumbled. “Well I hope that someone won’t break my trophy this year.” 

Your teammate, Ollie Bearman, popped his head up from where he was looking at his tyres. 

“It was one year Y/n! One year!” 

You giggled at the disgruntled yells from the British Driver. Ollie had been one of your favorite teammates. 

Your first year, you were paired with the golden boy himself, Sebastian Vettel, before he retired with one last championship. And then your first year as world champion, you were paired with Oscar Piastri before he left for McLaren. Ollie had been your teammate for the past two years, but you had a feeling that he’d stick around for more than a year. 

You got the heads up that the race would be starting soon. You turned back to Max. 

“Are you staying here or do you have to go?” 

Max had a mischievous glint in his eyes and was about to reply before being interrupted. 

“Actually, their royal highnesses need to return to the royal box.” 

Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. You only laughed and pushed him in the direction of the exit. 

“Go, I’ll see you at the top.” 

“Blijf veilig, alsjeblieft,” Max softly pleaded. 

He really hated that you put your life on the line every weekend for the job that you loved. He remembers the first time you had a terrifying crash when you were unconscious until they got you to the hospital. He was told that you probably wouldn’t wake up. However, you defied the odds and were back in the seat for the next race. 

You responded, just as gentle, “Voor jou, mijn koning, altijd.” 

When Max left, he turned around one last time and witnessed you giving Arthur a quick kiss before he put your helmet on. It was something that the two of you had been doing since you started dating almost two years ago. 

The Dutch king was back to walking with Charles to the box. 

“So, when is he proposing.” 

He hadn’t expected an answer, but was surprised when he got one. 

Charles gave Max a look. “They’re actually going to a restaurant, and he plans to propose tonight.” 

Max’s eyes widened at the confession. But, he got over it quickly before gently smiling. You deserved happiness, and you found that in his closest friend’s brother. 

“So will she have to stop racing for royal duties?” the blond questioned. 

Charles shook his head. “Non. Arthur will step down.” 

Max clapped him on the back. “Guess you and Alexandra need to start with some heirs huh?” 

Charles squinted up at him. “Says the man who currently needs to propose as well.” 

The prince got the last laugh as he left Max stuttering for a comeback. 

You won the race like Max knew you would. The king watched as you held your head up high as the Dutch National Anthem played loudly through the crowds. He saw the crowds of orange, the only ones rivaling the red Tifosi at Monza. 

The crowds were shouting, “De Langverwachte! Onze kleine leeuw!” 

The Long Awaited. 

Their Little Lion. 

Max had always wished for a champion from his home country. Something to ode back to the sport he loved as a kid. His wish came true in the form of you. People talked as the king publicly backed the only female driver on the grid. But he knew that you were something special. He was there as you took the championship from Vettel in the last lap of the 2020 season fair and square. Obviously he was thankful that there was no safety car to ruin your race of any kind. You had coped brilliantly against your older teammate and your talent truly showed.

Max was given the signal to head out with the hand painted trophy. He was honestly kind of scared to drop it. But he made it across the stage and handed it out to you.

You proudly took the trophy from Max after you bowed in respect. He may have been your friend, but he was your king first. 

The ceramic trophy was held high once it was safely in your hands. Jokingly you hugged it tight as you gently stepped down off the podium. Ollie gawked at your childishness before spraying you with the champagne. 

With trophy set down a nice ways away, you took your own bottle. Except, instead of spraying Ollie, you pointed it at Max, whose jaw was on the floor as you came after him with the liquid. 

If you were having fun now, you wouldn’t expect what was coming later that night. 

And you said yes. 

Earth 12399

“Zusje!”

Your eyes widened at the familiar squeaky and young voice. You turned your whole body away from your race engineer to only be taken down in the knees. Once you were on the floor, you laps was immediately filled with a small body that had bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes. 

“Maxy, Ik heb je gemist Kleintje!” 

“Uh Y/n, is everything good?” Charles’s voice sounded from above. You stared back at your teammate in the red overalls. You grabbed under the child’s arms and hoisted him up along with yourself. 

“Yep! Charles meet Max. Max meet Charlie.” 

Max’s small eyes widened before he tucked himself in your neck. Your hand came up and rubbed his back as you cooed. You turned back to Charles. 

“He’s a bit shy in front of his favorite driver.” 

You poked Max’s side and his giggles filled the room. The small one turned his head and peered at the Monegasque whose eyes were wide, looking at the child in his teammate’s arms. 

“Didn’t know you had a kid.” 

Your jaw dropped at his statement. 

“He’s not my kid, idiot. He’s my brother,” you hissed, lightly bouncing Max up and down as you swayed side to side. 

“Oooohhhh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah oh. I’m younger than you.” 

“One night stand?” 

“Charles!”

The brunet laughed loudly, making Max giggle a bit with him. You looked down into his blue eyes. 

“Oh so you think that’s funny hm? I’m getting bullied.” 

Max only giggled more before pointing at Charles. 

“Rari?” 

You lovingly stared at him in your arms. “Yep, Rari.” You saw how Charles was staring at Max. “You want to hold him?” 

Charles dropped everything (only his water bottle) and reached out to take Max. Once he was in Charles’s arms, Max immediately rested his head on his shoulder and gripped the red suit. You smiled fondly at the two. 

“He’s so small,” Charles whispered after seeing the kid’s eyes close in slumber. 

You ruffled the spiky blond hair. “Yeah, he’s only 3 though. Full of wonder.” 

“Y/n!” 

Ah, there was your mother. You looked over and saw Sophie walking with your other sister Victoria. Thankfully, your dad was nowhere to be found. After you found out what he had done to Max, you put in a restraining order against him immediately. 

It was a hard discussion with your mom when you told her that she needed to divorce him. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. But, you never wanted to see another bruise on your younger brother again. 

It was fine if he did that to you. But to Max? 

Jos wouldn’t stand a chance against your anger. He had shaped you to be like him. 

A racer. A winner. The best. 

But being the best wasn’t supposed to be the most important anymore. And if he wanted you to be like him, then he’ll get his own anger thrown back into his face. You remembered how your fist met his eye after you found Max alone with him one night. An ugly purple thing covered Max’s tiny wrist and there was a scratch on his face. 

You had just returned home from a triple header and wanted to surprise your family. Only, you came home to Max’s screams of terror and Jos Verstappen yelling. You didn’t think, you just did. Sophie and Victoria returned home to multiple police cars and an ambulance in front of the house. When they finally were told what happened, they found you covering Max’s body with your arms as you spoke to one of the paramedics. A blanket was draped around your shoulders and a bruise was forming on your face as well. 

After that, you moved your entire family to Monaco with you. Your house was plenty bit and you only shared it with Charles whenever he came over to play FIFA. But now, whenever he wanted to play, you insisted on going to his house. 

It might have been to protect your family. Or it might have had to do with a certain handsome brother that Charles had. 

Definitely the first one.   

Hence why Charles had never met Max beforehand. But that also didn’t stop the little gremlin from choosing Charles as his favorite driver and not his sister. 

It’s not like you were bitter or anything. 

You walked toward your family and gave the two women a hug. 

“I’m glad that you could come today!” you told them, truly happy at their arrival. It wasn’t like it was a big race. You had already won the championship last week, which sadly they weren’t able to make it. But Max was still up past his bedtime when you got home after. The kid sleepily muttered that he was glad you won, even though you had beaten Charles. Yet, you reminded him that Charles had won the year before and it was sissy’s turn. 

Sophie looked at Max in Charles’s arms. “He’s so comfortable. I honestly thought he’d be scared of men after what happened.” 

Victoria nodded in agreement. 

You crossed your arms. “I think that Max knows that dad wasn’t a good man. And well, he still loves Lando though.” 

“Is that Max?” 

Speaking of. 

Max’s head jerked up from Charles’s shoulder at the familiar voice. His little head swerved in the direction of the papaya clad driver. 

“Lanno!” 

Max started to squirm in the captive arms. Charles quickly set him down, not wanting him to fall. Max immediately ran to the Briton, who picked him up with ease. At the sight of the two, Charles pouted. 

You knocked him with your shoulder. “Don’t’ worry, you’re still his favorite. He bought Max a toy McLaren for his birthday and Max demanded that I paint it red and add a 16 on the side.” 

Charles seemed to gleam with pride at the confession. 

“Don’t tell Lando though. He’d be devastated.” 

What Lando didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Hey little man. You ready to watch the race?” 

Max’s head bobbed quickly. 

“Are you going to watch Lanno win?” 

At that, Max shook his head making Lando’s eyes widened. 

“Little Verstappen I am hurt.” Lando clutched his hand to his heart in mock hurt. Max only stared at him while the McLaren driver put on a bit of a show. 

Charles piped up from beside you. “Max, is Charlie going to win?” 

Max, once again, shook his head. Now that made you confused, because Max always cheered for Charles. You cocked your head as you looked at your brother. 

“Then who Maxy?” 

The boy shyly pointed at you before muttering, “Zusje gaat jullie allemaal verslaan.” 

Not that made you laugh out loud, causing even more confusion to the two male drivers. You covered your mouth as you continued to laugh. Sophie and Victoria laughing as well. 

You smirked at your rival and teammate. 

“He said I’m going to kick your asses.” 

Max gasped as he heard your words. 

“Bad words!” 

Max pouted as he was put down by Lando. His little legs ran to you and his arms stretched out wanting you to pick him up. You squatted and scooped him up. Your arms tightened around him as he tried his best to hug you. 

“Sorry for the bad words kid.” 

“’S ok,” he slurred, getting even more tired. It was definitely his nap time. And it was time to get in your car. You handed him back to Sophie, who gave you a kiss on your head as you stooped. You gave a quick hug to Victoria before going back to kiss Max’s head. 

“I’ll win for you ok?” 

Obviously, he couldn’t hear you, but you would say it anyway. You turned away from your family to get ready. 

“Going soft on me L/n?” Lando quipped, making his way out of your garage. 

You discreetly flipped him off, to which he laughed at as he left. It took about 30 minutes to get in the car and get everything ready. You swerved your head, making sure the helmet was tight. Your eyes flitted about the garage and caught sight of your family again. Max was now wide awake and waving at you. 

Your gloved hand reached out and displayed your fingers wide. The little boy reached over in his mom’s arms and clapped your hand with his small one. You were given the signal that it was time and drove off once Sophie was out of the way. 

Her and Max watched as you rounded the corner in your red Ferrari, out of sight. 

Sophie leaned down and kissed her youngest’s head.

“Mijn baby, zal zus winnen?” 

Max’s small voice was just loud enough for her to hear. 

“Ja mama, sij is kampioen.” 

Earth 9596 

(btw - I made the max pic because no one has good edits of him in a ferrari suit)

“Scuderia Ferrari Signs Y/n L/n for the 2024 Season”

“Ferrari Mistake? The Formula 1 Team Signs the Youngest Driver to Date” 

“Ferrari Becomes the First Formula 1 Team to Sign Female Driver” 

“Former F1 Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Backs Goddaughter as Her Race Engineer” 

“How Will Verstappen React to His Younger Teammate on the Track?” 

You hadn’t known what to expect when you arrived at the paddock first thing on Saturday morning. You had convinced Lorenzo to bring you early so you could at least avoid some of the crowds, if not all. However, it seemed like everyone else liked that plan as well, and the paddock was full. 

You hung back near Enzo as the two of you walked side by side. Your hands gripped your backpack straps hard, turning your knuckles almost stark white. Thankfully, your sunglasses kept your wide and scared eyes from the public. It wasn’t that you were scared of people. It’s what you thought that they thought about you that made you nervous. 

Just 17 and baby faced. 

Something that wasn’t heard of in 2024. Yet, with older drivers retiring back and forth, the FIA had to make new changes to deal with the need of rookie drivers. Hence why Lorenzo pushed to have Ferrari sign you as early as possible. You basically went from karting, to Formula 2 and didn’t even start your second season. 

It came as a shock when Lewis Hamilton finally retired after only one year at Ferrari. You had thought that he’d want to get one more championship to make it to 9. But, life throws curveballs and it was headed straight to you. 

Now you had to face your new teammate, a champion himself, Max Verstappen. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that he was talking to Charles Leclerc and Fernando Alonso. The two black Mercedes polos stood out in contrast to Max’s red one. You took a quick glance at the two drivers and realized that they were already watching you. 

Your cheeks heated up as you quickened your steps to get to the garage faster. Once you were in the safety of the garage, you let out a deep sigh. 

Lorenzo looked at you with a sad smile. He knew you were going to be overwhelmed for the entire day. He took his backpack off and reached down in, fingers feeling for your headphones. He took them out and handed them to you. 

You immediately put them on, connected them to your phone, turned on the music, and got to work on your racing journal. You wanted to go over your notes before the race. While you were distracted, Enzo took a little walk, trying to find some coffee. 

He ended up walking past the group of three drivers and smiled at Charles. The Italian knew of him growing up and was excited to see him in a team that gave him a good championship winning car. 

He nodded his head toward your new teammate. “Max.” 

Max’s eyes lightened at the familiar face. “Enzo!” 

The two bro-hugged before parting, letting Enzo greet the two Merc drivers. When he was done, Max had a teasing attitude. 

“Can’t convince you to stay as my engineer? Don’t get me wrong, I love GP, but you knew me better.” 

Enzo smiled and shook his head. “No can do. Gotta take care of my kid.” 

Fernando entered the conversation. “Where is she? We saw her walking but then she disappeared.” 

The older man scratched his head. “Yeah, she tends to do that. She’s a bit nervous.” 

Charles scoffed. “I’ll say. They shouldn’t have said anything until Wednesday. Sky Sports announced it way too early.” 

The Monegasque had something similar happen to him when he first joined Mercedes. It had all been planned that he would take Valtteri Bottas’s seat mid-season. Yet, Sky Sports announced it before Mercedes had a chance to even say that Bottas had wanted to retire early due to an illness. The media had made Charles into a seat-stealing villain his first season. 

The engineer nodded sadly. “I think she’s also nervous about the team.” 

Max looked at him with a shocked expression. “The team?” 

Enzo waved his hands. “She has full confidence. Y/n’s a bit nervous about trying to be on your level Max.” 

Well, that didn’t settle well with the Dutchman. Great, he was excited to have such a young teammate: someone who he could get along with and help them grow in the sport. But now, you were afraid of him? 

“She’s not scared of you Max, just nervous.” 

Oh. He said that out loud. 

Max glanced back at the garage. “Can I go talk to her.” 

Enzo nodded before handing him a pen. “I forgot to give this to her, she’ll be looking for it. You don’t mind giving it to her right?” 

“Not at all,” he responded, thankful for something that could break the ice between the two of you. 

Max grasped the pen and made his way to the overly bright red garage. He really wished Ferrari would take a page out of Mercedes’s book and make everything black. But no, they had to show off the corsa rosso red. 

You were too busy writing some notes down, with the wrong pen, to notice Max’s shoes now in your line of sight. The Dutchman lightly nudged your own shoe, which had your head jerking up to look at him. 

Your eyes widened and your hands reached to pull your headphones off. 

Max only smiled down at you. He thought that you looked like a scared mouse. He wondered if you were quiet like one as well. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked. 

You could only shake your head no and scoot over as Max sat down on the concrete near you. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to scribble. Max suddenly remembered the pen in his hand. 

“Here. Enzo wanted me to give this to you.” 

Your fingers lightly touched his as you grabbed it from him. 

To Max, you also reminded him of his sister at this age. Shy, meek, quiet. But he had seen your videos and your impressiveness on the track. Your overtakes were nothing to be overlooked. He heard you sigh as the pen now nicely glided over the pages. 

The Dutchman let his eyes wander over the pages. He noticed that you were even taking notes on him as well.

You didn’t look at him, but you spoke, “If you break a bit later on turn 4, you can cut off another tenth.” 

Your voice gave Max whiplash as he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him without being prompted. His mind ran as he tried to remember turn 4. When he did the calculations he was surprised to find that you were correct. 

“How did you..” 

“I watched your onboards from last season. You’re very, what’s the word,” you gave him a smirk, “predictable.” 

Max’s jaw dropped, which caused you to laugh a bit. Max, although shocked, was glad that you were coming out of your shell a bit. 

He leaned over to whisper, “Are you overwhelmed with the red as much as I am.” 

You smiled as you whispered back, “It is positively draining. Why can’t they do black like Mercedes?” 

Max threw his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying.” 

You pretended to think. “What if we gang up on them. They can’t resist both drivers.” 

Max put on a weird accent, making his voice higher. “It’s either change the garage and everything to black or we walk.” 

That made you snort which caused Max to wheeze. 

Enzo was just on his way back with two coffees (both for him) when he heard the sound of you laughs mixed with Max’s. He smiled fondly at the two drivers. He took a sip before putting on his bright red headphones that he needed for qualifying. He coughed a bit, but it was soon over. Nothing like the sickness that he barely beat back in 2019. He was thankful that he got to continue to watch you grow. 

Max asked, “How far do you think you’ll get in qualifying?” 

You thought for a moment. “Uh, I hope to make it to Q2 if possible.”

The Dutchman lifted his hand to ruffle your hair. Your hands swatted at him as you pouted. 

“I think you can get farther.” 

You only shrugged. “We’ll see.” 

The car was definitely your safe space. You felt as though you could finally breathe easier. 

“Radio check please.” 

“Loud and clear Enzo.” 

“Ok, let’s get this bread.” 

You shook your head as you sat in the car. “Please never say that again.” 

Much to your and the team’s delight, you made it past Q1 and Q2. And you ended Q3 in the second row in P3. Max had just missed pole by mere hundredths. Charles Leclerc always had scarily good one lappers in the third session. 

Max gave you a giant hug at the end of the session, very glad at your positioning. 

As he had his arms around you, he thought to himself. 

“Yeah. You were going to be great.” 

Earth 331649 

The big letters stood out to Max as his eyes began to water. 

“Not Applicable for Adoption at this Time” was all the top said. He hadn’t bothered to read the rest. He knew what it was going to say. It’s what every letter said for the past few months. 

They weren’t approved. 

They traveled too much. 

There weren’t any in their preferred age group that were adoptable right now. 

They wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby. 

They were…Max didn’t even want to mention the word. 

He glanced at the gold band that adorned his ring finger on his left hand. The sight made his eyes water more. The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown to the side. The Dutchman leaned forward and put his hands over his face and just sobbed. 

They had been trying for so long. The conversation had started two years ago as they lied in bed one night. They were nearing the ends of their careers, but they hadn’t wanted to wait until they were retired. They were sure in their marriage enough to where they both could handle a baby in their lives. 

A mini them running around, playing with Jimmy and Sassy. The thought was too much to bear right now though. 

The door clicked but Max hadn’t heard, he just continued to sob. 

“Amore, I’m back from the shop. They had the pastries that you really liked. Amore?”

Max started sobbing harder. Before he heard knew it, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He heard a big sigh as a head rested against his back. 

“Another one?” 

Max didn’t even reply, but his sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles. Charles glanced over at the crumpled paper that had been tossed to the side. He’s told Max time and time again to wait until he gets home to read them, but the older was always a bit too excited or anxious to wait. He bit his tough, not wanting to say anything that could upset the Dutchman even more. 

“It will be all right.” 

“Will it?” Max bit back, full of sadness and anger. But, it wasn’t anger at Charles. He was angry at the world. 

“It will,” Charles hummed. However, the Monegasque was also getting run down by all the rejection letters. He didn’t know how much more he could take. But, he wanted to be strong for Max. For himself. For their hopeful future child. 

“Every time Charlie. Every time, it’s always a different excuse.” 

“Our time will come.” 

“But what if it doesn’t? We aren’t getting any younger Charles.” 

The Monegasque harshly inhaled. He stopped rubbing Max’s back. Although, he really didn’t know when he started. 

He went to say something, yet his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the room. Charles muttered something about wanting to hang up, but his breath hitched at the sight of the name at the top of his phone. His thumb had never pressed the answer button. 

He quickly put the call on speaker. 

“Bonjour?”

“Ah, Mr. Verstappen?”  

“This is he.” 

“Is your husband here with you?” 

Max perked up at the question. His eyes were bloodshot, but he was now paying attention. He scooted even closer to Charles, face almost in the phone. 

Charles chuckled at Max’s closeness. 

“Oui, he is here.” 

“Ok, so we just got a call from the Princess Grace Hospital. We think you want to come here for this.” 

Max gulped before whispering. “It is what we think it is?” 

Charles held his breath as he and Max waited for the answer. 

“Why don’t you come find out.”

The two of them could hear the playfulness as the their adoption agent hung up the phone. They looked into each other’s eyes before they dashed around, getting their shoes on. Max almost tripped as he hopped on one foot, his shoe getting caught on his finger. Charles chuckled as he bent to tie his own shoe. 

Max was halfway out the door, still waiting. 

“Come on Charlie.”

“Mon amore, are you forgetting something?” 

Max patted his pockets and realized he forgot the key that were now dangling on Charles’s finger. 

“Oh.” 

Charles rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door, grabbing Max’s waste as he walked. The Dutchman quickly followed him to the Monegasque’s Ferrari Purosangue. He bought the SUV when he and Max put in their first adoption profile. 

Max huffed as he noticed that Charles was going below the speed limit. 

“Baby, can you maybe, hurry up?” 

Charles only hummed as a reply. He did step on the gas a bit, but the Monaco speeds were slow as it. It wasn’t their fault that they drove ridiculously fast cars and his husband was currently high strung. 

Charles put his hand on Max’s thigh and started to rub small circles, which in the long run did help Max calm down a bit. 

The Dutchman had calmed down some by the time they parked in front. Charles started to get out of the car, but Max’s hand grabbed his arm before he got far. Charles recognized the look of fear on his husband’s face. His pointer finger found the golden band on Max’s finger and started to rub it. 

“What if- What if- What if it happens again.” 

Charles’s eyes drooped a bit at the sadness in Max’s voice. 

“But what if it doesn’t?” 

A glimmer of hope came back to Max’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss on Charles’s lips. 

“Let’s go.”

With an unbuckle of his seatbelt, Max was out the door. Charles had to catch up to Max’s larger steps. His hand soon found Max’s as they walked in. He squeezed three times, and got three in return. 

Charles look the lead as they approached the front desk. The lady at the computer had a nice attitude as she gave them a smile when she looked up from her screen. 

“May I help you gentlemen?” 

“Ah, yes, my husband and I got a call from our adoption agent, Mitch Walker.” 

The lady’s eyebrows raised as she started to type on her computer once again. Max bounced in his place, willing the lady to type faster. 

“Ah, floor three, room 89.” 

“Thank you,” Charles stated, already watching Max walk toward the elevator. He chuckled as he slowly followed, knowing the elevator would arrive when he got there. Inside the contraption, Max read the list of floors. 

His finger traced them until he got to the third floor. 

“Charlie.”

Charles looked where his finger had landed. 

Delivery floor.

Before Charles could react, the elevator doors opened. They both bolted into the hallway. 

86. 

87. 

88. 

89. 

They both paused in front. 

“Ready?” 

“Ready.” 

Charles grabbed the nob and slowly twisted. The room was a bit dim and Mitch was standing in the middle of the room. She turned at the sound of the door and a smile made a way on her face. 

“Hi guys,” she whispered. She stepped closer and pulled a curtain that cut the room in half. 

“Hi,” Charles replied, also whispering. 

Mitch put her hands together. “So, we have a little someone who was given up today. If everything goes well, you two might be going home with a baby today.” 

Tears welled up in Max’s eyes at her words. He choked down a sob and bit his knuckle.

“I just need you two to wash your hands and then you can meet her.” 

Charles whispered, “Her?” 

Mitch only nodded. 

This time, Charles was the one to let out a small sob. They gingerly walked over to the sink, hands bumping into each other as they rinsed under the water. Once dry, Mitch dragged the curtain back over. 

In the middle of the smaller section near a couch, lied a bassinet. With bated breath, Charles and Max peered over. Tears now welling in both their eyes. Max’s finger gently moved towards the baby’s face. 

He lightly grazed the soft cheek, causing the baby to squirm. Max had never jerked his hand away from something faster. Charles let out a small and quiet laugh. The baby’s hand was open, inviting Charles to put his finger in the tiny palm. 

The baby suddenly curled her fingers around the one finger, eyes suddenly opening. The Dutchman wanted to cry once again. Her green eyes peered up at him. Max’s eyes caught a tuft of hair and he gently pulled back the tiny hat. Blond hair appeared in a small bit. He gently pulled the hat back into place. 

His blond hair. 

Charles’s green eyes. 

Charles turned to Mitch. 

“Can I hold her.” 

A single nod had Charles scooping the baby in his arms, and he placed her on his chest. His body leaned back just a bit to accommodate her. Max immediately took his phone out and took a picture. He was definitely going to use that as his lock screen picture from now on. 

Max watched as Charles sat on the small couch in the corner. Max followed suit and sat next to him. 

The baby was looking right at him. 

“Hello little one,” he whispered, finding the courage to graze her face once again. A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but it was short lived. But, Max had seen it and he was happy that it was directed at him. 

“-ax, Amore.”

His eyes shot up to Charles’s face. 

“Yes?” 

The brunet rolled his eyes. “I asked: Do you want to hold her?” 

Max could only nod. Charles gently handed her over to his husband and watched as his big hands cradled the baby. One hand was gently placed on her bum and the other on her head. He cooed at the man and baby, seeing tears stream down his face. 

Mitch quietly approached the couple. “So, it seems like everything is going well. I can almost read your minds and I got your application approved. It’ll take a while for everything to come in but you are good to take her home.” 

Charles stood and gave her a giant hug: big enough for the both of them. She patted Charles’s back before grinning widely again. 

“You know, she doesn’t have a name yet.” 

Max’s head whipped from the baby to the woman. 

“We get to name her?” he questioned, heart filling with so much love. There were so many names that he and Charles had picked out. The first name would be something special, something not used before. The middle names would be in honor of loved ones past and present. And then, the baby would take both last names. 

Mitch came over with a certificate and pen in hand. 

“Do you two know or do you need a moment?” 

Max nodded at Charles and then looked back down at the beautiful green eyes that stared up with him. 

Charles did the honors. 

“Her name is Y/n Julia Sophie Pascale Antoinette Leclerc-Verstappen.” 

Little Y/n. Oh how the world wasn’t ready. But it would welcome her with open arms.

Earth 959589 

“Shit!” you yelled, tumbling out of bed. You were late, oh you were so late. Max was going to kill you and you could say goodbye to your seat. 

Before the season even started. 

You tripped as you pulled on a shoe, face planting back into the bed. Your phone was currently blowing up with notifications as it rested on the side table. You hastily pulled on your Red Bull polo and grabbed your jeans. Your foot got stuck since you put your shoes on first. 

Great move Y/n, great move. 

You finally got a hand on your phone and answered the call. 

“Where are you? Max is close to having an aneurism,” your race engineer hissed through the phone.  

“I know Charles, but my alarm never went off!” 

Your head was pressing your phone to your shoulder as you talked and walked toward the elevator. 

“Just please get here ASAP,” he sighed. You could see the man rubbing his eyebrows, even if you couldn’t see him. 

“I’m getting in the car now.” 

“You better be thankful. I’ll see you here.” 

When you arrived to the paddock, you went directly to the interviews, which you were late for as well. You winced as you walked in front of everyone and sat down, face ablaze in red. 

Lando poked your side. At least he went with the polo so you two could be matching some. He leaned over when a question was directed to Arthur. 

“Max is going to kill you.” He smirked as he leaned away. Your microphone accidentally picked up the smack to his shoulder. Some eyes landed on you as you tried to duck away. 

Arthur looked over at you. “Nice of you to join us champ.” 

You shrugged. “My alarm didn’t go off.” 

“Sure.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse you?” 

Before you could get any farther, a journalist asked a question directed toward you. 

“Y/n, if I may, how is this season a bit different than last?” 

Your eyes looked up as you thought of a good answer. “Uh, well, there was a lot of change within Red Bull this past winter break. My old teammate went to being my team principal. And then he somehow convinced Charles to join as well and be my race engineer.” 

A scoff came from Arthur that cause you to lean to look at him. 

“Are you all right Leclerc?” 

The Monegasque rolled his eyes. 

“I would like to have my brother back please.” 

“Well, too bad I got him first. And then back to my question. Lando became my teammate and he’s giving me a run for my money.” 

Lando smirked at that statement. 

“Ah yes, the cheeky little bugger he is. But, I’m really on track for my second championship. Maybe next year I’ll let Lando get one.” 

The journalist thanked you for your good answer.

Fortunately the press conference ended after that. Yet, it was unfortunate for you since you could feel Max’s glare from miles away. You stopped, causing Arthur to bump into your back. 

“Any chance I can come hide in your driver’s room?” 

Arthur shook his head yes, giving you some hope. 

“No.” 

You visibly deflated as you watched him walk toward the bright red garage. 

A sigh left your lips as you stalked toward the garage. Charles gave you a sympathetic look as you walked past. His hand rubbed your shoulder until he gently pushed you toward Max. You winced under the Dutchman’s glare. 

“My office Y/n.” 

You could only follow him into the office. You took the first seat you passed in front of the large desk. Max rubbed his eyebrows and sighed. But, you panicked. 

“I’m so sorry Max. I swore I turned on my alarms last night, but I was up late going over data again because I can’t let the team down again like last race. I know that I can make up the speed. And then my phone was on silent and then I tripped on my shoe and the car got stuck in traffic. I swear I went straight to the conference. I won’t be late again I promise, just please don’t take away my seat.” 

Max watched in horror as you lost your composure right in front of him. This monologue only told him that you were truly scared that he’d kick you off the team because of a little DNF last race. His heart dropped as he saw tears stream down your face as you visibly shook. 

He stood up quickly and rounded the desk. His hands dropped on your shoulders. 

“Kid, kid. Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your seat. I was just worried when you didn’t show up and when you didn’t answer mine or Charles’s calls.” 

“Oh.” 

Max wanted to laugh. “Yes, oh. Do you remember all the times I used to show up late? The times that Charles showed up late as well?” 

You let out a chuckle as you remembered both Ferrari drivers would show up a bit late. No one ever seemed to mind. You let out a sigh of relief. 

Max stood up and walked toward the door. “Now, let’s go out there and what do we do?” 

“Kick names and take ass!” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Sure kid. Sure.” 

Earth 1218 - Present Earth   

You gasped as you sat up in your bed. 

“Kid?” Max questioned, head popping up from the couch. Vegas had been super early again and you and Max didn’t want to go back to the hotel when you had FP2 soon. So, the two of you just curled up in his driver’s room. His voice was groggy as he had just gotten up from an interrupted nap as well. 

You clutched your head and groaned. 

“I had such weird dreams.” 

“Oh. Tell me?” Max’s head was already back down on his pillow. 

“You were a king, and then you were my younger brother?” 

Max snorted but let you continue. He knew that you wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway. 

“And then you were my teammate at Ferrari and Charles drove for Mercedes, Enzo was there. Oh, and then you and Charles were married.” 

“Kid you have been watching too many Lestappen edits on Twitter and TikTok.” 

You only grumbled. 

“I do not. Finally you were my team principal.” 

“Strange. Go back to sleep.” 

Max never got an answer back, because you were already zonked. He chucked and turned back over, phone clenched in his hand as he watched the edit of Charles’s 2022 sunset lap into his 2023 pre-storm qualification. However, he didn’t know that his volume was so loud. 

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain…And I could see it all in my mind…” 

“I KNEW IT! YOU WATCH THEM TOO!” 

“GO TO SLEEP!” 

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#f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #fernando alonso x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #across every universe #f1 au #to do is to dare fic #lestappen #formula 1 x reader #or any universe for that matter #formula one x reader #formula 1 edition #formula 1 imagine #different dimension #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1

[heartlilith]

Astrology Observations

Here are some of my observations and opinions on various placements - Part 5

🖤Pay attention to the degrees in your natal chart, as they influence the energy projected by a specific planet/placement. Here are some quick notes:

0° - Marks a fresh energy, beginnings, a lot of things to learn, growing into this placement, can make this placement more naive/immature.

1°/ 13° / 25°- Aries/Mars energy - Makes a placement more aggressive/brave, extroverted, and quick. Brings more of a leadership energy to the placement.

2° / 14° / 26° - Taurus/Venus energy - Can make a placement more polite, grounded, sensual, and down to Earth. This degree can also signify wealth. Makes a placement more appealing and agreeable.

3° / 15° / 27°- Gemini/Mercury energy - Placements with these degrees can be more curious, detached, less grounded, more talkative. These degrees can also signify high intellect or a duality.

4° / 16° / 28° - Cancer/Moon energy - Can make a placement more soft, adds feminine energy or placement could be highly influenced by feminine energy (MC in 4° can signify working with women or women having a big impact on your career for example), can make a placement more emotional.

5° / 17° - Leo/Sun energy - The fame degree! Makes a placement more recognizable, popular, self-centered. These degrees also add creativity, boldness, and confidence to a placement.

6° / 18° - Virgo/Mercury energy - Adds more logic/analytical energy to a placement, adds wisdom and nervous energy, makes a placement more "neat" and confined.

7° / 19° - Libra/Venus energy - Emphasizes the beauty of a placement, politeness, creativity. Can make a placement more apt to romanticize (ASC - how you see the world, Venus - how you see love, Mars - liking romantic sex more than casual sex)

8° / 20° - Scorpio/Pluto energy - Signifies a lot of transformations for a specific placement, a lot of breaking and healing in the area of this degree. Can add obsessiveness/powerfulness/mystery/depth to a placement.

9° / 21° - Sagittarius/Jupiter energy - Adds a more "happy go lucky" vibe, more free flowing, popularity, brings luck and wisdom. Jupiter is expansions it could also expand whatever placement you have this degree in (Mars - more physical energy, Sun - more egotistical, 5th house - more children, creativity).

10° / 22° - Capricorn/Saturn energy - Can slow down a placement (Venus - won't be in a relationship until later in life, Mercury - might talk in a slower pace). Brings lessons and trials to the area of this degree, maturity, ambition, seriousness.

11° / 23° - Aquarius/Uranus energy - Brings something unique to a placement, gives a placement some shock factor and flare. Can make a placement more easy going and inclusive.

12° / 24° - Pisces/Neptune energy - Makes a placement more delulu (lol). Higher octave of Venus so it adds to the beauty of a placement (Sun - adds beauty to your energy, Mercury - adds beauty to your writing/speaking abilities, Mars - adds beauty to the way you physically move (like a dancer)).

29° - Can add mastery, maturity, karmic lessons to a placement. Can signify something that is ending, lessons learned, an almost finished book.

🖤There's so much more I could say about degrees and degree theory but that would take me all day. Here is a link that goes more in depth: 360 Symbolic Degrees

🖤Jupiter is the planet of luck and expansion, therefore looking at the sign and house that Jupiter is in can signify how to lean into that luck. Sign = how, house = where. For example, I have Jupiter in Gemini in the 5th house: using my writing/speaking/communication abilities (Gemini) can help me earn luck especially if it has to do with creativity, children, and romance (5th house).

🖤The sign Mercury is in can have an impact on your learning style. Water: Reading/Writing, Fire: Auditory, Air: Kinesthetic, Earth: Visual... (this is strictly opinion based)

🖤When I look at someone's chart that I'm interested in romantically, I like to make a Venn-Diagram in my head with their Venus and Mars signs (this is the most Virgo Moon shit I've ever written). For example, Sagittarius Venus + Capricorn Mars = Detached, money-minded/materalistic, likes to take things slow, hates possessiveness and feeling "anchored".

🖤THANK YOU FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS🖤

Masterlist

#astro observations #astrology community #astrology #rising signs #astro #scorpio #astro community #sagittarius #cancer

[indieyuugure]

Part 3 of Hell on Earth! Now you get to see what Krang’s been up to this whole comic: rebuilding the Technodrome to be Kraangy-er than ever! There is definitely no way this could end badly.

Previous: (11) Pages 7-12

Next: (11) Pages 19-24

See All…

#rise of the parallel #ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #comics #fan comic #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2k12 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #fan fiction

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 2

It was a very weird ride. Danny felt like he was an authority on uncomfortable and strange conversations, given his bizarre family and all the experiences he'd had: but it was exquisitely uncomfortable sitting next to his bride sacrifice and making conversation.

The guy didn't offer his name. He was- honestly, he was built. Danny tried not to get caught visually measuring how absurdly broad the guy's shoulders were. He was weirdly offended that the cultists had sent him someone who was more ripped than he was.

"What's that?" The guy prompted. Jason. This guy's name was Jason. It was a little hard to keep in mind given he didn't really look like a Jason. He looked like… The Red Biker 👻😱🩸 or some shit.

Danny mentally rewound his own babbling and brightened when he realized that there was at least some interest in NASA's newest telescope. He infodumped on rote. It genuinely was an interesting topic! But he'd told 3 people about it already so it didn't take all of his attention.

At one point, Jason pinched his middle finger and used the grip to pull off his glove. Danny swallowed. He tried not to stare at the first glimpse of skin. It was not super light or super dark– a little tanner than Danny, maybe. Not that that said much when he was living like a cave creature in a dorm room, trying to get the grades to be an astronaut.

'He's human,' Danny thought. Of course he was, he'd been sent from earth, but-

He just felt like a ghost.

The confusion put his hackles up. It was weird to perceive this guy as a possible threat. But he wasn't! He was just some hot dummy who got caught by friggin Jeremy Waters. Jeremy. Come on. It didn't get much sadder than that.

But overall? He could see why the Infinite Realms had gotten mixed up enough to accept this guy. Red was definitely weird enough to be a ghost, dressed up for the combination war front/biker bar/club. He hadn't made a move to take off his ugly motorcycle helmet the whole time they'd been talking. It was kind of creepy, to be honest.

The most disturbing part was that he smelled, like, really good. He smelled like sexy death and Danny kinda wanted to roll around in it like the world's most educated cat.

It was with some relief that Danny bounded away from his semi husband, up the stairs to Clockwork. "You know who it is and why I'm here!" He hollered, hands making a megaphone shape around his mouth. "Help me! I'm too young to be a child bride."

"Technically," Clockwork said, floating pleasantly into view, "you are too old to be a child bride. As you are not a child, Danny."

He waved that off. "I'm a kid on the inside," he dismissed. "And 19 is basically a high schooler."

"As you say." Clockwork drifted away. Danny followed. "How is your university coursework?"

"It's fine." Danny shrugged. "The Gen Eds are giving me war flashbacks to Mr. Lancer, though."

"You liked him," Clockwork said.

Danny bristled. "I did not!"

He kinda had. Mr. Lancer could have been a lot worse.

That was beside the point. Danny caught up to his ghost mentor. "I can't be distracted from this," he said, aiming for stern. "There's some human out there who wants to go home. I also want him to go home. How do we make that happen ?"

"Why Danny, have you forgotten about portals?"

Danny scowled. "You know what I mean," he groused. "I want to send him home single. Unattached. Not married to me at all."

Clockwork finally stopped moving and looked directly at him. His large eyes held only a kind of curiosity. "I suppose that you could banish him. That would have the effect of ending your relationship."

Danny hesitated. He'd learned that accepting suggestions on their face could go very badly. "That seems kinda harsh," he said. "Would there be any repercussions of that?"

Clockwork hummed from the back of his throat. "Yes, it would prevent young Jason from becoming a ghost when he passes again. Excuse me, I want that shelf behind you."

Danny moved out of the way on reflex before he processed those words. "That sounds bad."

The older ghost seemed to shrug. "The Ghost king can banish ghosts, and your paramour is ghostly enough to qualify. It would solve your current dilemma."

He deliberately chose not to respond to the word 'paramour.'

"I'm actually looking for a solution that doesn't interfere with the state of his soul and afterlife," Danny said dryly. Then he blinked. "You're really gonna call him Jason?"

Clockwork reached up and withdrew a metal object from the shelf. It clicked in his hand. "Indeed."

Danny waited for another divorce suggestion. When Clockwork didn't give one, he groaned. "How do I find another solution?" He asked, tired. This was another test, wasn't it? It was a chance for him to problem solve on his own.

That netted him a beaming smile. "You should take him to the royal library."

"And look for information about ghost divorces?" Danny asked. Clockwork gave him an enigmatic smile.

He chose to believe that was a yes. Danny patted his mentor's shoulder. "Thanks!" He shouted, already turning on his heel. "I'll do that. Have a good day!"

"Goodbye, Danny."

Jason hadn't moved at all, sitting weirdly tense and tall in the passenger seat. Danny gave him a nervous smile as he jumped in.

"Did you find out anything?" Jason asked. His voice was even enough to obscure whatever it was he thought, and the helmet made the words come out kinda flat and mechanical.

Danny winced. "Yes and no," he said, trying to find cheerful. "The first solution seems kinda bad, to be honest, so let's go to the library and look for another one!"

"...Ghosts have public libraries?" Jason said.

"No," Danny said. And then he frowned. "Maybe? I don't know. I haven't seen one but I haven't been here long. We're going to Pariah's creepy old castle to look at his library." He started up the Specter Speeder and took off. "It's big. And he was a real creep, so he probably had, uh." He cleared his throat. "Paramours." His face was getting hot and red. Maybe it wasn't obvious. He tried to look unaffected. "Probably why that ritual was out there," he babbled. Wow, the minutes separating their destinations felt very long when he was digging a verbal hole. "He probably had a lot of sacrifices he accepted, maybe that's where the skeleton army came from actually."

"Skeleton army?" Jason managed to sound incredulous through the world's ugliest motorcycle helmet. "How do ghosts and skeletons both exist in proximity?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, if you don't need the physical body to exist, why would anyone retain their corpse?"

Danny laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's weird," he agreed.

'Don't ask me afterlife questions,' he mentally begged. 'I just work here. I don't know the answers.'

"Metaphysically-"

"Do you like sports?" Danny interrupted in a high voice.

Jason paused. "No. Do you?"

"...Not really," Danny admitted, thinking of getting ganged up on in dodgeball and knocked down in basketball.

They existed in what felt like a confused silence for a few minutes. Danny parked the Speeder outside of the castle and I clicked his seatbelt with a rush of relief. "We're here," he said. He threw open the top.

Jason didn't move from where he was flat against the backrest, only lifting his head. "... Should I come too?"

Danny blinked down at him and waved a hand in invitation. "Yeah, let's go. This is kinda my place now so I can invite you in."

Jason moved forward abruptly, like he'd just gotten unstuck from the seat. Something about it looked wrong to his hindbrain. But Danny dismissed it and started off at a jog. It wasn't his business if Jason was a weird little guy. (Weird big guy? It didn't sound the same, but Jason wasn't petite.)

Jason paused on the battlements. Danny looked back and tried to see it from his perspective. The architecture was jagged, pitch black, and without any of the friendly colorful touches a castle should have. "It's kind of creepy," he said apologetically. "Pariah has just the worst vibe. Rancid energy."

"...Is it smart to say that?" Jason wondered. He started walking again.

Danny shrugged. "What's he gonna do to me?" He asked rhetorically. "Get his butt kicked again?"

#red hot ghouls #dcdp #deadonmain #dp x dc

[theyluvkarolina]

Saw your post about requests being open and had this idea and I didn’t want to fall asleep and forget about it. Idk if you do Esteban Ocon but yeah. Esteban and Kpop idol, she real famous and she’s been soft launching someone for years but never revealed them because her management won’t allow her to reveal who it is. Anyways her contract ends and she reveals that the person she’s been soft launching is Esteban and they’re actually married and have a kid. (You can pick the gender). Thanks. Love the two works you put out already and can’t wait to read more 🫶

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓

. ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` why the french guy bro 😞 … ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ kpop and f1? what on earth would that have in common? a lot actually!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ esteban ocon x reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ most photos are of jennie!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ cursing, reader speaks her mind lol, pregnancy and kids?

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ I would be lying if I said I didn’t start tearing up at the end 🥹🩶 thank you so so much! people like you encourage me to keep going :)) Fair warning, I’m practically clueless about K-pop… but I still tried my best! I decided against having the reader be part of a group, but rather a soloist, just for my sake until I gain more knowledge. again, thank you so much lovely, I hope you and everyone else enjoy 🫶

this is def the longest one yet 😵‍💫

some of the concept isn’t exactly the same, but I definitely tried to best to give what you requested!

TWITTER, 2019

INSTAGRAM, 2019

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln merci, paris! thank you to all who joined the show!

1,234 comments

username3 i literally couldn’t stop screaming,… best show yet!

→ therealyn_ln tysm! You fans always encourage me to try even harder!

username7 oh she’s totally ignoring the recent news flash…

→ username9 what news?! → username10 apparently, she was seen with some guy after her show in Paris!

username8 who is the mystery man?!

username11 why is no one mentioning the fact that esteban ocon is in the comments?!

→ username12 the fact that a f1 driver is even in the comments of a kpop idol is strange enough. → username13 it’s not even that, he WATCHED the show!

estebanocon glad to know you loved Paris! The show was amazing!

*liked by therealyn_ln!*

urmanagersuser call me. right now.

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln my biggest supporter 🧸🤎

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COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN TURNED OFF…

TWITTER, 2021

INSTAGRAM, 2021

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln Me 🤝 First F1 Race! Honored to be a part of Alpine’s garage tonight! Wonderful work by @ fernandoalonso and @ estebanocon!

2,143 comments

fernandoalonso Of course. You are always welcome. 👍

username14 WHO IS THAT MAN??? I’VE BEEN WAITING SINCE ‘19!

username15 we lost her guys 😔😔

username16 Y/N and F1?! My life is at it’s highest!

username17 is that… the guy at her Paris show before the COVID-19 shut down?!

alpinef1team Thank you, Y/n! Overjoyed to have you join our garage and team! You certainly energized us this race 😉

estebanocon always willing to win! especially with your support 😊

username18 I can’t be the only one that’s been noticing something fishy lately…

estebanocon

liked by lance_stroll and therealyn_ln

estebanocon celebrating in style 🥂

5,213 comments

username19 estie bestie!!

username20 uhmm…. the dinner photo?!

username21 WHO IS HE WITH 🤔 🤔

username22 surely Y/N posting that photo with her soft launch bf and estie’s dinner isn’t a coincidence…

alpinef1team we keep pushing! 👊

IMESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM, 2022

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln Hello fans, for the next upcoming year, I will be taking a break from music, and embracing the love of my fans, and finally being able to share my love for my husband with not just me, but to finally show it to all of you.

happy new years to all! Happy 2022 :)

3,283 comments

username21 why the french guy bro 😞

username19 HUSBAND?!

username22 SINCE WHEN WAS SHE MARRIED?!

username20 what happened to hi? my name is?

username18 I TOLD YOU GUYS SOMETHING I FISHY

alpinef1team Mr and Mrs L/N-Ocon 🫡

estebanocon ma beauté 🩷

*liked by therealyn_ln!* → therealyn_ln the prettiest :))

INSTAGRAM, 2023

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln happy anniversary my love! 🤍 this was the best gift anyone can receive. Loving you now and for forever.

username21 WHAT IS HAPPENING RN

username19 no way.

username22 A BABY ALREADY?

username20 i’m at a loss for words.

alpinef1team Future driver in the works! 🏁👀

estebanocon so happy to be part of this journey with you my love ❤️

→ therealyn_ln my favorite frenchie 🥐 → charles_leclerc :( → pierregasly damn. → francisca.cgomes don’t worry @ pierre_gasly you’re always my fav ❤️

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln welcome to the world baby Alix 🤍

12 comments

landonorris can’t wait to be the favorite uncle

→ charles_leclerc sorry to break it to you Lando, but i’m going to be the favorite → alex_albon you’re lying it’s me → lance_stroll definitely me → maxverstappen1 nope, me. → carlossainz55 lo siento, it’s me! → danielricciardo bursting your bubble! It’s none of you cause I’m right here! → logansargeant i can’t wait to teach them some american football :) → pierregasly it’s definitely not me.

#☆ﾟ smau ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝ #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 smau #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x you #esteban ocon #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon x you #☆ﾟasks ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝ #f1 fic

[pineapplerightsideupcake]

So.. I'm confused about something. If your beliefs in radical feminism say that trans people aren't valid in their feelings of being trans, what's stopping you from making bisexual people not part of the LGB? B stands for bisexual. What if their sexuality is just a phase? What if they are *actually* just heterosexual? For that matter what's stopping you from excluding YOURSELF from the community? At some point, you can't exclude any more people from a space that wasn't supposed to be gatekept to begin with! -Vero of CFC

You people always use that word “valid”. It’s absolutely meaningless post modern nonsense. Trans people feel that despite having a male or female body, their feelings about it change reality. I’m not telling trans people how they feel. Because you’re right, I can’t know that. What I’m telling them is that their feelings don’t change their bio sex. I’m telling them their feelings don’t supersede the rights and dignity of women. That’s not at all the same thing as being same sex attracted.

If I tell you that I am attracted to both men and women you can believe me or not. It doesn’t change my sexuality. You can’t know how I personally experience sexual attraction. But if I tell you I’m an Olympic Figure Skater, that’s something external and material. That’s something that either is or isn’t. And it doesn’t matter how true I want it to be.

This isn’t about people being invalid or valid. It isn’t about telling others I know better than them how they feel. It’s me telling them that their feelings don’t change material reality.

And we don’t get to sidestep reality because language is limited and imprecise. We create words to express ideas and categorize things so we don’t have to start every conversation from the ground up. Think of the quote “a rose by any other name”. The word ‘rose’ is made up but the flower it refers to exists in the material world. And you and everyone on earth could declare a rose a tulip but as long as people needed to specify they’d find a way to invent the word rose again. It’s why every 3 years your movement declares old terms verboten. MtF and FtM got used until people got mad it didn’t erase the reality of bio sex and people just used those terms in place of “male and female”. Then the same thing happened with AFAB and AMAB. Now we’re onto TME and no one knows what anyone is talking about because at the end of the day, people are male or female and no amount of “validation” or the right words erases that reality.

I am bisexual because I am attracted to both men and women. Lesbians are women exclusively attracted to women. Gay men are men exclusively attracted to men. Straight people are exclusively attracted to the opposite sex. The LGB community formed because the thing we had in common- same sex attraction- is punished in most societies. It absolutely was designed to gatekeep. It was a civil rights movement- not a secret club house. The LGB have no more moral responsibility to admit opposite sex attracted people than black activists have to include white or Asian people.

“Queer” has nothing to do with it. Demi flux genderoo aroallo fox kin have nothing to do with it. A group of men that believe their internal state of mind makes them literally a woman has nothing to do with it. You people overran a movement for same sex attracted people, convinced everyone to call our community a slur, and demand that we center heterosexual teens too immature for a relationship thinking that makes them the same as a Gay man.

I’m tired of arguing with 19 year olds that read too much mlm fanfiction that having short hair and wearing hoodies from the boys section doesn’t mean they’re gay men. I’m tired of arguing with those same girls that the 45 year old man with pigtails and a pink pinafore sucking his thumb and holding a dolly on social media isn’t a brave woman defying The Man. He’s just a pervert.

#radical feminism #radical feminist safe #radical feminist community #radical feminists do interact #radical feminists do touch #radical feminists please interact #radblr #feminism #radical feminists please touch #trans

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about secret dating

requested by: various anons requests: I saw the "Forbidden Love" prompts, mostly about not admitting to themselves / each other, and it really made me yearn for forbidden love prompts where they're together but they have to hide it from everyone else; one sided “keeping a relationship hidden from coworkers”; can you post prompts about two oblivious people who are already dating but the other people don't know they're dating? dialogues or scenarios would do<3 thank you and love your prompt contents!

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1: ~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about confessing a forbidden crush Part 2: ~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about showing love without confessing

Setting/scenario:

#1 - keeping it secret at first because they didn't think it would turn into something that serious anyway #2 - enjoying the thrill of the secrecy #3 - being unsure whether that nervous feeling in their stomach is coming from their feelings for the other or the fact the relationship has to be kept a secret #4 - it's killing them that they have no one they can share their thoughts about their new relationship with #5 - making up the most random excuses to secretly meet up with the other #6 - screaming internally because they're having a date but they can't talk about it #7 - trying to act casual and unsuspicious in public when they're together but it's so hard #8 - teasing the other because they know how hard it is for them to keep their affection/arousal to themselves #9 - making promises that they don't have to keep it secret for much longer (but is it really realistic?) #10 - developing a method to communicate in code #11 - keeping it secret to protect the other #12 - keeping it secret until better times come #13 - making up for keeping it secret by extremely romantic/spoiling dates when they're alone #14 - wanting to fix everything before making the other their official s/o #15 - finding it the least stressful way to date to just keep it secret #16 - enjoying their little, happy secret because that way, no one can ruin it/take it from them #17 - it's like living in two completely separate worlds because their relationship is something that just exists between the two of them and the time together is always otherworldly #18 - wanting to stay in their happy dream world forever #19 - making plans for the future together, even though they don't know where they will be tomorrow #20 - they're keeping the other's love letters hidden under their pillow even though they know how risky it is

Dialogue:

#21 - "You're the most precious thing to me. So, I have to keep you as safe as possible." #22 - "Ah, I'm glad to have you finally to myself." #23 - "When I'm with you, it's like the earth stood still. I'm never so at peace." #24 - "You know, I really don't want to imagine what would happen if the others knew." #25 - "We have to be more careful. This was really a close call." #26 - "Do you really think it's necessary we keep it secret for much longer?" #27 - "I'm doing this for you. You're much better off when the others don't know." "You always say that. But I'm not sure if I still believe it." #28 - "It's not ideal but hell would break lose if it came out. I'm really glad we have the moments of peace. And intimacy." #29 - "Could you have imagined that we would someday end up like this?" #30 - "You're the best that happened to me. And I can tell no one about it. But I want to shout it from the rooftops." "Oh, you better don't. But you can always whisper it to my ear." #31 - "Isn't it fun to have this secret?" #32 - ^ "That's one way to call it." #33 - "I was really impressed how you handled that earlier. So cool. So smooth. So casual. As if I hadn't just made you whimper and made your eyes roll back minutes prior." #34 - "It's all worth it. I would risk it all again just to be with you." #35 - "Do you really think this is a good idea? They could find us." #36 - "You'll be the death of me." #37 - "To be honest, it's pretty funny to see you acting so unfazed and oblivious when we both know you were still thinking about me being naked." #38 - ^ "I always think about you being naked. It's not as if it's a new challenge to keep a straight face." #39 - "But you do know that I'm doing this all for you, right? Otherwise, I couldn't care less." "But you have to act as if you were in for the thing itself. They cannot connect you to me." #40 - "One day, I will carry you off to a place where it's just us. So, be prepared to be kindly abducted one day, alright?"

#forbidden love prompts #forbidden romance prompts #secret dating prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #prompts #otp prompts #otp #fanfic prompts #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writeblr #setting prompts #dialogue prompts #romance prompts #romantic prompts #40 prompts

[sssilverstoned]

memory lane ꩜ ln4

type: instagram/twitter au

A trip through time as everyone's favorite kids in love grew up.

lily said: back to back ahhhh! hopefully part three tomorrow. wanting to get this out asap bc I’ve been stewing over posting for so long! glad you all enjoy :)

also, i think I’ll be opening requests soon, but please feel free to inbox me anything you’d be interested in seeing <3

part 1

Liked by yourbestfriend, yourusername, and 32,619 others

landonorris Happy birthday y/n! #19

maxfewtrell Happy birthday y/n/n!

yourusername thank yaaaa maxy!

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Liked by yourbestfriend, maxfewtrell, and 93,679 others

yourusername Happy birthday Lando! Welcome to 19 :)

yourbestfriend Dawwww so cute

landonorris Thank you! Love you old lady

yourbestfriend it's only 8 months difference between you two????? yourusername he's so annoying landonorris hey. It's my birthday

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Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 300,991 others

landonorris y/n's sleeping through her 20th birthday so I'm here to post about it in case she misses it.

user1 long neck ass

user2 facts. but hbd y/n 💯

danielricciardo quite the angle here, how long is your arm?

yourbestfriend Slaying while sleeping, love her

yourusername I try

yourusername: So this is how we're doing 20?

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Liked by kaiagerber, romeobeckham, and 688,142 others

user1 BAHAHAHA is this payback from your birthday??

user2 omg they're so aggravating 😭 favs fr user3 posting this with absolutely no caption on his bday is so funny

yourbestfriend the biggest little shit to ever walk the earth

landonorris aw thanks for the birthday wish x

landonorris: Love you too baby

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Liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, and 411,997 others

landonorris Happy 21 my love! Wait for me so we can club together in NYC finally like we always said #cradlerobber

user1 CRADLE ROBBER

yourusername The club awaits!

carlossainz55 happy birthday y/n/n!

yourusername thank you carlosssssss! landonorris too many s's for my liking

yourbestfriend wait is this in my house??

yourusername nothings broken. trust

user2 this photo is so chaotic

user3 him constantly calling her old like SIR

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Liked by kendalljenner, lewishamilton, and 700,817 others

yourusername Cheers baby! 21 21 21

landonorris Head's spinning still

yourusername So I'm "old" AND I hold liquor better? Pick a struggle

maxfewtrell Mate she's winning this round landonorris Always does

user1 oh this is cuteeee

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Liked by pierregasly, alex_albon, and 800,131 others

landonorris 22. Hope it's the best one yet

user1 so cozy so domestic omg

user2 dating for 3 years, 30 years, same thing

user3 awwww he's wearing the bracelets she made him for their anni

yourusername Lovessss ya

yourusername Was very surprised I will admit you got me good

user4 THIS WAS A SURPRISE? user5 This man flew across the globe so he wouldn't miss her birthday...my word

charles_leclerc: He almost missed his plane back btw

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Liked by lirisaw, yourbestfriend, and 900,878 others

yourusername Scorpios, you've got to love them #22 #CradleHasBeenRobbed

user1 color coordinated suits...every post you make me even more bitter

user2 the loving look in their eyes...can't wait for the 79th bday posts

user3 right im here for the long haul!

lilymhe you all will never stop this joke

yourusername he started it!! lilymhe and yet you have not ended it landonorris she's older than me, this is a fact

View more comments...

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #social media au

[silverstonesainz]

august

─── august slipped away into a moment in time... 'cause it was never mine

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader warnings; just sad. 17.8 k words

Everything with Daniel came easy. It came naturally, beautifully, and all at once. It was a good thing.

You met him in August, under the scorching summer sun and bottomless margaritas. Between glasses of mango and lime, you bumped into him. He smiled, you smiled too, and the rest wrote itself. You were drunk– a little too drunk for three in the afternoon, but what was summer for? You stumbled on your feet,  toes slipping through the straps of your flimsy shoes as you staggered for your own balance. And in a failed attempt to keep yourself upright, you reached out for a chair but instead found your fingers gripping onto the white linen of his shirt. His hands were quick to find their place on your torso, like it was always meant to be there, like he’d done this a million times before. Daniel helped you find your balance, knees bent so that he’s at your eye level. His smile was sobering, knocking the air right out of your lungs. Thank you was caught in your throat, even if your lips were parted to give them way. But you were rendered speechless. 

“You alright?” He asked, the warmth of his hands seeping through the thin material of your sundress. 

“Y-yeah.” You finally managed, putting your weight back onto your feet. “I’m alright.” 

“Good. I’m Daniel, by the way.” 

He let you go, and you missed him. He held his hand out of you to shake, one you gladly take as you tell him your name. He repeated with a smile. You were the first to pull your hand from his. “Could I buy you a drink? As a thank you, for saving me?”

He obliged. And after another strawberry– or was it watermelon? You couldn’t distinguish the details by then. All you could remember is that Daniel sat at the bar with you and  laughed at jokes you’re sure made no sense. You have a vague memory of the party ending, of having to bid adieu even if you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye to your new friend. But that’s when your memory goes spotty and the next thing you know you’re waking up in yesterday’s clothes with a pounding in your head. The sun beckons a new day, your last day in Mykonos begs you to fight through your hangover to enjoy your last twenty-something hours in paradise. So you do. You rinsed all your mistakes under the cool water, flashes of honey brown eyes and a smile so wide it hurt your cheeks thinking about it. 

Two texts sat waiting for you when you stepped out of the shower. 

Unknown   9:19 AM Hey, it’s Daniel.  Care to join me for breakfast? 

You weren’t sure when you had given him your number, but you silently thanked your drunk-self for doing something sober-you could never muster the courage to do. By then, your friends had already gone on their final adventure, leaving you to recover in the hotel room. You had no plans for your last day, so you replied with a quick sure, and got ready. 

Daniel is already sitting at the table when you make it down. He’s seated at the far corner of the hotel restaurant, nursing a cup of coffee as he read something on his phone. The nerves rattled your chest with every step you take, hoping silently that he would look up at you so you wouldn’t have to awkwardly announce your presence. And he did, setting his cup and phone down the closer you got. Hey you he says softly, standing from his chair to greet you with a hug. 

He was warm, smelled of rain in the spring, of the happy earth after a downpour. He smelled like a backyard of freshly watered flowers, of home and comfort. You tried not to let yourself drown in it, but you know it would be something you’ll be chasing for the rest of your days. 

You sat across from him, allowing small talk of the weather to unravel into a two hour conversation. You talked about work, about your best friend’s bachelorette party– the reason you were in Mykonos in the first place. You told him about your hopes and dreams, the silly ones and the serious ones. And he spoke of the world, of the places he’s traveled, the people he’s met. He made life sound so exciting, He speaks of life so happily, you were almost envious of him. His eyes glistened with every word, every laugh, every ounce of hope you could ever wish for yourself. 

“So when do you leave?” Daniel asked, sipping on his water. 

You blew out a sigh, “Tomorrow morning.”

It was the first time you saw him frown. A deep frown that had his lips curved down and brows furrowed. That’s too soon he complained. It was. It was far too soon, but you didn’t have the heart to admit it outloud. So you nodded, a soft hum buzzing past your closed lips as you brought your hot tea up to your mouth. 

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” You shook your head. “Would you let me take up your time then?” 

You could feel your cheeks turn red, heat rising to the tips of your ears. Daniel smiled, eyes wide and bright like they knew what your answer was going to be. How could you deny him? 

Daniel didn’t have much of a plan, but it didn’t matter. You enjoyed his company, you enjoyed the laughter and the way he looked at you. You walked the streets, played tourist with him. You walked in and out of shops, convincing each other you needed this little knickknack and that tacky magnet. And by the end of it, you had handfuls of cheesy souvenirs to remember the day by. 

The last stop was the gift shop in the hotel lobby. You followed each other up and down the aisles of the little store, past overpriced snacks and toiletries. Sneaky glances and smiles after catching the other, you and Daniel play cat and mouse throughout the store till you part ways. You found yourself spinning the display of touristy jewelry. Leather straps, tarnishable chains, with beachy charms attached. Flowers, a turtle, even a single wave. You stole a glance at Daniel who looked up at the shirt selections, flipping through the sizes in search of his own. A bit of sadness settled in your chest as you came to realize that the end of your day– of your time– with Daniel was coming slow & torturous. You ached at the thought, biting on the inside of your cheek as you crouch down to get a better view of the adjustable bracelets. 

You met him at the register with an exchange of sad smiles. You paid for your stuff, he paid for his. And as you stepped out of the  gift shop, your heart lacked a heaviness you had been expecting. The sadness was there, but no dread. You stopped with a soft stomp, turning on your heel to look up at Daniel. He stared down at you with a certain kind of softness, the smile maybe a bit dampened by the incoming goodbyes that you were yet to exchange, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time you were going to see him. 

“Thank you for today,” You said softly, “I had a lot of fun.” 

“Me too.” 

Silence. Shifty feet. An unwillingness to say farewell. 

You looked down at your small gift bag, pushing around the crumpled receipts to pull out a bracelet. It had black, adjustable straps, looped through dark blue beads. You held it out to him, “For you. Something to remember…” 

Remember what? You couldn’t say. But Daniel understood. He took it, ripped apart the plastic and slipped it on. He shook it on his wrist, smiling up at you like a kid who did something right. Then he was fishing his bags until he pulled out his own little gift to you. He held it out in his palm, a silver keychain with a photo of the windmills in the middle of it, uttering the same words you had moments before. Something to remember. You took it with a soft thank you, holding it tight in your fist. 

This was it, the impending goodbye, the inevitable end to it all. Neither of you wanted to say it, to end the chapter– close the book. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He asked hopefully, the grip on his bags suddenly tighter. 

You smiled. “I’ll visit you in Monaco.” 

“I’ll visit you in London.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

One breath. Inhale. Exhale. 

You threw your arms around him, savored the way his own found solace around your middle. You tried to memorize the way it felt to be in his arms, the smell of the fresh rain– the feeling of home. You’d known the man for twenty-four hours and yet, all this came easy. Melting into him, picturing the rain, promises of flying country to country, it all came so easy. 

His hands rubbed your sides as you pulled away from him. Safe travels, doll. 

You too Danny. 

Maybe walking away wasn’t the easiest thing, to turn your back on him while silently wishing he would stop you. You wished you lived in a movie where the guy impeded your travel plans. Because truth be told, if Daniel asked you to stay a little longer, you might’ve done it. But you made it to the elevator all by yourself, turned to catch a final glimpse of Daniel, who stood in the same place you left him. He lifted his hand, waved one more time before the doors shut. You huffed a sigh, tried to turn your focus to repacking your luggage. Your friends were all back in the room, pestering you on your whereabouts. But you smiled, shrugged your shoulders as you let the day behind you play in the back of your mind.

You finished packing most of your things by ten that evening, promptly falling asleep as the exhaustion from walking all day swallowed you whole. Your dreams were filled with fantasies of a boy with curly hair and honey brown eyes, and his warmth engulfing you. It was pleasant, comforting, homey.

And in the middle of all that good, your eyes sprung open. You had a sudden burst of energy, unable to fall back asleep even if your flight wasn’t for another five hours. You tossed and turned, trying to find a sweet spot that would allow you to slip back into a slumber. But to no avail, it’s three-thirty and there was no hope in falling asleep. You sighed, sitting up and reaching over to grab your phone off the nightstand. Your phone pinged. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Daniel   3:32 AM Are you awake? Please say you’re awake

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip. 

You   3:33 AM I’m awake.

Daniel   3:33 AM Good. Meet in the lobby. PJs mandatory. 

You’re giddy, slipping out of bed as quickly and quietly as you can. You grabbed your room key and cellphone, slipped on your slippers, before taking the elevator. The doors slid open, revealing Daniel standing in the same place you left him. His smile was contagious, making your cheeks hurt as you took quick steps over to him. He held his hand out, palm facing up as he mocked a bow while whispering a soft m’lady.

You grinned, taking his hand and letting him whisk you away. You walked the length of the hotel beach, up and down, chasing your shadows given by the warm lamps that illuminate your path. Your toes dug into the wet sand, leaving an imprint of yourself with every step. You bumped shoulders with Daniel, exchanged sleepy smiles, all too happy to bask in the other’s company for a moment longer. Finally, Daniel pulled you down on the sand by him, higher up the property, but still close enough to the threat of the tide. The stars glimmered, twinkled down at you. 

“Why were you up?” You asked, turning to look at him. You traced the arch of his nose as he stared up at the sky, traced the curls that lay on his forehead. Daniel blew out a breath through puckered lips, shrugging. 

“Why were you?” 

The question rested in the air above them, leaving the other to assume the answer. Another comfortable silence, accompanied by the ocean coming and receding. Fingers unknowingly inch closer and closer, begging to be laced between each other. But they danced on the sand, pinkies brushing but never linking. 

It’s Daniel’s turn to look at you. His turn to trace the curve of your lips, the curl of your lashes, to commit you to memory. “I want to see you again.” 

You smiled, coughed a laugh. “I leave in a couple hours Daniel.” 

“Yeah I know. But… we could meet again.” 

You turned your head. You searched for the joke, for the punchline, the goofy smile followed by light-hearted laughter. But all Daniel did was smile. Lips touching, dimples deep. His eyes read with so much hope, it sent your heart into a frenzy. 

“We could.” 

He grinned. “We could.” 

You nodded, teeth digging into your bottom lip to hide the dopey smile that threatened to peek through. 

There weren’t many words exchanged for the remainder of the hour. You memorized the placement of the stars in the night sky, the sound of the tide rolling to and fro. You remembered the night exactly as it was: just you, Daniel, and the world quietly watching. 

The fifth hour rolled around, forcing you on your feet. Your hands found themselves in Daniel’s, giggling as you tried to pull him up onto his feet with you. You brushed away the sand, shook out your hair. You looked up at Daniel as he did the same, smiling over at him when he looked at you. The walk back to the lobby was slow, filled with small talk about the weather and travel plans. He rode the elevator up to your floor, walked you to your door, just as a gentleman does. He tucks your hair back, chuckles softly. 

“I’ll text you.” 

“And I’ll respond.” 

He smiled, taking a step backwards, “I’ll see you soon.”

Another step back, and another, and another until he’s at the end of the hall and waving at you. You stood at your door, watching him leave, waving back before he turned the corner and disappeared. You tapped your key against the door, unlocking it and shut it softly. With your back pressed against the hardwood, you exhaled softly. Head in your hands and a hole in your chest in the shape of Daniel. You felt crazy, maybe a little delirious. Another huff, another hopeful sigh as you pushed yourself off the door and got ready to fly home.

The morning flew past you. Between security lines and scrambling to buy some coffee, you barely had a moment to breathe. And when you finally did find the time, all you could think of was Daniel. Of his laughter, the smell of his cologne, the sweet promise to see each other soon. You slipped your phone out of your pocket, a bit disappointed at the lack of a text. But it was half-past seven in the morning, the man must’ve been asleep… right?

You boarded the plane, buckled yourself into your seat minutes before eight. Still not a single text from the Australian. Your fingers hovered above your keyboard, thumbs shaking as you searched for the words to say to him. 

You   7:56 AM Don’t forget about me.

And after four hours, when the plane touched down in Heathrow, you took your phone off airplane mode. Notifications come rolling through, emails from work, a missed call from mom, and one text from the man himself. 

Daniel   10:05 AM Never

You learned how much Daniel loved Monza in September. He found victory in his despair there, saw the triumphs and falls of so many racers before him. Daniel loved Monza. 

Daniel   11:03 AM The energy is great, you should’ve come out. 

The invite was on the table, he had asked you two weeks ago if it was something you’d be interested in attending. You should’ve said yes– any sane person would’ve. But you couldn’t, as much as you wanted to see him again, to be able to talk to him in person and just be with him, you couldn’t say yes. You’d never be able to explain it, other than the fact that you were shy, and holding onto a bit of your Mykonos fantasy. You liked living in a world where your friendship was only something between you and Daniel. You liked the bit of distance, found comfortability in it. At least for now. 

So you opted to keep up with him through text and the telly. You exchanged messages until he had to set his phone down, then watched each session, each day. Practice. Qualifying. Race Day.

You   12:01 PM Good luck. I’ll be here for the debrief.

The debrief was a series of texts, mostly from Daniel. It’s every broken hope, every could’ve, should’ve, would’ve that ever crossed his mind. It was you trying to console a broken spirit, to reignite something in him that was already dead. He took your words with grace every time, even if you both knew he didn’t believe a single letter of it. 

You   12:02 PM You’re gonna do great.

Daniel   12:04 PM It’s gonna be great.

You smiled at the optimism, at least you hoped that’s what it was. You sat back on race day, watched every second of coverage– from the driver’s parade to the pre-race talk. You saw glimpses of Daniel, of the beloved honey badger. And oh how everyone loved Daniel. Everyone rooted for Daniel, to bring glory to a gloriless team like he had just one year prior. Oh how everyone believed in Daniel too, even if he didn’t quite believe in himself. 

Daniel loved Monza, even if  Monza didn’t love him back. 

It was a painful watch, the final lap of the race was coming into view… and then his car sprung a leak. And that was it, that was the end. Goodbye to the glory, goodbye to the hope. 

You didn’t expect to hear from him that night, so it was to your surprise when your phone pinged as his name appeared on your screen. You set your little late-night snack aside, leaning back into the couch as you open the message.

Daniel   9:00 PM Wish you came anyways. Would’ve made the weekend worth its while

You smiled. 

You   9:01 PM Next time. Promise. 

Daniel   9:03 PM Next time &lt;3

Daniel facetimed you for the first time in October. It caught you off guard. You had been exchanging texts with him since you had seen him last, an occasional voice note from you or him, but it was never anything more than that. 

You were cooking dinner. Your hair was up in a disarray, looped carelessly through an elastic in hopes to cool your body down from the heat in your kitchen. You had marinara sauce on the collar of your old high school t-shirt, and you looked less than flattering in the maroon basketball shorts from an ex-boyfriend long long ago. But he was calling, his name and face occupying your screen. He was interrupting a video you were watching because he was calling. 

You swiped your phone across the screen, holding it up to give a view of your shoulders to the top of your head. Daniel smiled, wet curls stuck to his forehead. He was clad in black hoodie, airpods tucked into his ears. You hadn’t seen him so happy post-race, the string of bad results and over all bad luck had been wearing him down. You knew it, he knew it, hell the whole world knew it. But here he was, smiling like he had won the whole damn thing. 

He said your name like it tasted sweet, dripping like honey from his lips. “Did you watch?” 

You propped your phone against the towel holder, shaking your head as you do. “No, I was working on a project. I meant to watch the highlights while I ate dinner.” 

“What are you cooking?” 

“Pasta.” You felt your cheeks heat up. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“This is the third night in a row.” 

“I just need something quick. Pasta’s always quick!” You defended. 

He rolled his eyes playfully, biting back a smile. You saw it in the way his cheeks began to round, lips pursed. “Well hurry up. I’ll be your highlight reel for dinner.” 

True to his word, Daniel gave you the brief play-by-play of his race in Singapore, the whopping fifth-place finish– best finish he’s had all year.  You listened intently, shoveling penne pasta and red sauce into your mouth. You listened and listened, even if he repeated the same moment over and over, with the same excitement, same enthusiasm like he was back in the moment. There was a twinkle in his eyes, the slight inflection in his tone as the words spilled from his mouth. It made your heart soar for him, it made you happy to see him. 

But then someone flipped a switch, the mood suddenly dampened as his eyes trailed off camera and his smile slowly began to fade. You pushed your empty bowl aside, pulling your phone closer to you. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “I just wish it was always like this, you know? Miss feeling this… this good after a race. God and it’s almost ridiculous how happy I am for P5. P-fucking-5. But it feels like I’m on the podium. I just wish I had felt this all year.” 

You didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? You couldn’t exactly relate or empathize, and you know that the last thing he needed was your sympathy. He’d been getting sympathy since he had lost his seat, and the last thing he needed was to hear it from you. So you hum, pulling his gaze back to you. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

“You say that all that time.” He scrunched his nose, a teasing expression almost as if he didn't believe you. .

“Maybe because it’s true.” You snarked back, biting back a smile.

A brief pause. You watched his honey brown eyes dart around the screen, staring at you. At every freckle and beauty mark, surely the smeared mascara under your eyes or the faded color that stained your lips. But he wore a smile, wore a bit of adoration and… god you couldn’t identify what that ‘and’ was, but it was nice. 

“Thanks.” 

He kept you company for the rest of the evening, even sat on the phone staring at your bedroom ceiling while you showered and got ready for bed. And when you finally rolled into your duvet, hair brushed and skincare, Daniel was snoring softly on the phone. It was four in the morning in Singapore, the weekend had finally worn him down. You only indulged in the serenity for a moment, before whispering a quick goodnight Daniel and hanging up. 

He called again when he got to Japan, showed you the tiny hotel room he had in Tokyo, gave you a list of places he and Lando planned to visit. 

He called before he flew out to L.A. When he landed. When he traveled to and from and across the States until COTA weekend came around. 

Daniel never stopped calling, and you never hesitated to answer. 

Daniel gave you a nickname in November. You argued about it over the phone, while you packed your work bag for the following Monday. You had him propped up on your nightstand, phone leant up against your lamp. He laughed at your reaction, the grimace on your face as he called you again.

“Oh come on toots, I think it’s cute.” You shook your head, “Why not?”

“I’m not toots Daniel.” You slipped your new pens into the little pocket in your purse, “Look at me, do I look like a toots?”

He laughed. It’s the kind of laughter that’s from deep in his belly, the kind that fades out a bit with every syllable. He fell back into his bed, sinking into his gray pillow case as he held his phone over his head. He watched you pack the rest of your bag before slipping into bed yourself. It was the first time since meeting him that you were in the same time zone. He was back in Monaco, and you in London where you had always been. There were only two races left in the season. Two weekends left of Daniel in the car.

He was calling more often than not. And maybe you could blame the short break before Brazil and Abu Dhabi, but you knew Daniel a little more than that. You didn’t make a comment about it though, just accepted the opportunity to talk to him more. 

You turn in your bed, setting Daniel up against the pillow by you. It was a good kind of quiet, a comfortable silence. The kind that brings about a certain… domesticity to the feel of your home, even if he was just on your phone. You liked having him there, even if really wasn’t there. 

“How ya feeling?” You asked softly, pulling the covers under your chin. 

He huffed a breath, “It just doesn’t feel quite real, if I’m being honest. My brain knows it’s happening but my heart… I don’t know. It’s cheesy. It’s weird.” You hummed in acknowledgement, shifting a bit in your place. “But it’ll be good. It’ll be fine.”

“It will. It will. You will.” 

He smiled, nodded. “But you know what’ll make it better?” You raised your brow, a soft hm buzzing from behind your lips. He grinned cheekily, “If you came and watched me in Abu Dhabi, toots.” 

Your heart swelled even if you scowled. Daniel hadn’t bothered to invite you to a race since Monza, which is fine. You were busy with work, and there really wasn’t a break long enough for Daniel to get an invite together for you. And plus, you had already declined him once. 

“My family is coming out, close friends too. But the entourage wouldn't be complete if I didn’t have you in the garage.” 

You pulled the blanket over your face to hide the way it turned red. And much to your surprise, he didn’t tease. No playful comments or layers of compliments to make your cheeks tinge red. No knowing laughter, or gentle chuckle. Just soft, patient breathing, waiting quietly for your answer. Your heart, however, was beating out of your chest. It was so loud you could hear it in your head. It echoed, bounced off the curve of your skull. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to ease the uneasiness that resides in your chest. It was the nerves, the threat– a mere opportunity to make all this real. 

Three months and some days had passed since you met Daniel. Three months and some days had passed since you said goodbye. Three months and some days spent dreaming of the smell of fresh rain, warm hugs, and honey brown eyes. Three months and some days. 

“Absolutely no pressure. But it would mean the world to me if you did.” 

Seeing Daniel in person would mean that you are more to him than some girl on the phone. It would mean that all this was more than the twenty or thirty something hours together in Mykonos three months ago. Flying out to Abu Dhabi would mean the world to him, and a galaxy to you. 

You pulled the covers off your face just in time to see Daniel run his fingers through his frizzy curls. He works his fingers over his head, stuffing it between him and the pillow behind him. The muscles in his arms bulge, stretch the sleeve of his athletic t shirt. You wondered if your cheeks got redder. His eyes move off screen, humming a soft tune that barely makes the airwaves to you, but you can hear it just under his shuffling about. He pulls up the covers, you see the edge of his gray sheet come into view. You watched for a few seconds more, watched him settle into his space, snuggled under the covers, before his eyes come back up to meet your gaze. 

He smiled. You smiled. It was nice. It was good. 

“So… when do I fly out?” 

Abu Dhabi was a spectacle, buzzing with energy for the final race of the season. It was impossible to escape that kind of excitement, even outside of the paddock. You heard the buzz, the excitement of who was going to win the race, even if the winner was already spoken for. You enjoyed the optimism, the smiling faces, the feeling of being there in that moment. It was a last for Daniel for the foreseeable future. You were privy to the toll the last couple of years have been on him, the stress, the sadness, the disappointment at the results he continued to produce. But the end was finally here, his final race in orange before a much needed break. It was sad, but it was good.

The hotel was swarmed with fans, waiting for the opportunity to meet their favorite driver. There were heads of bright orange and red, contrasting against the black and navy. The entrance was crowded with people, it was damn near impossible to get through and check in. But you managed with the help of a young busboy, who complained and pushed through a group of crazed fans. It wasn’t long from there, and soon you were flopping onto the queen bed of your hotel room with a loud sigh. Nearly seven hours on the plane had wiped you out, and if it weren’t for the fact you promised to meet Daniel, you would’ve fallen asleep right there. 

But alas, you forced yourself out of bed, stood in the hot shower to wash away the dirty air. You were cleaner, and in turn much more nervous. Have you scrubbed enough? Did the scent of your shampoo stick? Oh god how did you have enough time to do your hair? Will it dry in time? 

You couldn’t stomach finding out the answer. 

You pocketed air in your cheeks as you paced to and from the mirror to your unzipped luggage. You had overpacked– of course you did– and had about half the items strewn across the floor as you tried and failed to find an outfit worth meeting Daniel in again. A dress seemed a bit much and somehow every single pair of jeans you packed squeezed on your stomach a little more than you’d like. You huffed after the fourth outfit, soured mood as you stepped into sweat shorts and an old sweatshirt from college. You were meant to meet Daniel in less than an hour and you were stuck at square one: your hair a ratty mess, make-up strewn across the bathroom sink (untouched), and your luggage exploding with clothes you suddenly hated.

You stood, stared at yourself in the mirror as you gripped on your hairbrush, running it through tangles and an otherwise unruly mess. You dragged and pulled until your hair was smooth. But even then it wasn’t smooth enough, you just didn’t have it in you to care. Your makeup was dragged across your face. You went through the motions, all muscle memory and not a thought about the colors and products. And even at the end of all that, after getting yourself to look less haggard and have your hair somewhat presentable, you still couldn’t stand to look at the mess you’ve made in your room. 

You went back over your options, moving through the motions of retrying combinations, mixing and matching, and then putting them away when you concluded you didn’t like the choice. By the end of the hour, you had gotten your room semi-presentable but were still stuck in your loungewear. 

And then there’s a knock. 

You scratched the back of your head, a little more nervous and a little more irritated. A soft whine escapes you as you stomped your way to the front door. You yanked it open without even bothering to look through the peephole, mind far from any clue as to who it might even be. 

But who else could it be?

Daniel smiled with his hands stuffed into his pockets, Enchante hoodie hanging loosely on his shoulders. His curls sit atop his head, messy, flopped over his forehead. His stubble has grown, or maybe it just appears thicker in person. But he stood there, smiling in the hallway, lips parted and ready to greet you if you had given him a chance. 

You jumped into his arms like you belonged there, like a magnet pulled to metal. You held on for dear life, arms wrapped tightly as you stuffed your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled just as you remembered– smelled just like home. Slowly, one arm finds its rightful place around your torso while the other comes up so that his free hand could hold your head securely against him. His hold is firm as he lifts you off your feet, squeezes you so nicely you never wanted him to stop. You could’ve stood in that hallway like that forever, if it was ever an option. 

Daniel inhaled deeply. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I missed you more.” Your voice seeped into his skin– hot, meaningful, and everything else left in you to give. 

He put you down, but you didn’t want him to. His hands come up to hold your face in his hands while his eyes scanned every bit of you. No words, just a gentle hold. You stood there, head heavy in his hands as you stared right back up at him. His tan had faded a bit, his hair much more kempt than you remember. And his hands, oh his hands are rough, loved so well by the life he’s led and yet they move with so much care, so much tenderness. The dim hallway light reflected off his wrist, off blue beads tied together by a black straps. Your heart jumped, warmed at the bracelet you bought him all those months ago around his wrist.

“Looking good toots.” 

He laughed loudly as your face contorted into a grimace. Your hands come up to his chest to shove him off, a blow he takes with a grin as he takes a step back. And in succession, his slender fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you back into him. 

“I don’t like that nickname.” You swatted his chest, palm and the back of your hand colliding with the soft material of his hoodie, over and over until he’s holding your wrist still while muttering I’m kidding over and over.

You rolled your eyes as you removed yourself from his hold. You invited him into your room, taking quick steps to shut your open luggage before he had a chance to see the carnage of it all. Daniel closed the door behind him for you before he followed your lead into the small hotel room. He plopped himself onto your bed, kicking off his shoes before pushing himself further up. He watched as you folded up the bit of clothes that you had left out sitting on top of your closed luggage before sitting across from him. You smiled, he smiled. Just how it’s always been. 

Things sort of unraveled from there. Plans were canceled, phones tossed aside– nothing really mattered anymore. He asked about your flight, you asked about his. He asked about your work, you asked about his. It was back and forth, back and forth, jumping from one bit to the next until three hours had rolled by and Daniel had taken notice. By then you rolled onto your back, hair handing off the bed and legs lounging on top of Danny’s. He’s leant up against the headboard, arms crossed across his middle as he hum contentedly. You looked over at him, reaching over to squeeze his arm. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” 

His hand removed itself from underneath his arm, placing it over yours. “Thank you for coming.” 

November in Abu Dhabi was not as hot as you expected it to be. For once you were grateful for over packing because otherwise you would’ve been miserable and slightly embarrassed by the initial four outfits you deemed as enough for the trip.

You met Daniel’s family on Friday. They were just finishing breakfast when you walked up to the McLaren building. Daniel was quick to stand on his feet, hand resting on the small of your back as he gestured to each family member with his free hand. You were introduced as a friend, shook the hands of his relatives with a tight smile as you went down the line. They were sweet, offered to sit with you while you ate breakfast. But you were quick to decline, having already eaten before getting to the paddock. 

There were a few familiar faces amongst Daniel’s friends, if your drunken memory serves you correctly. You were greeted with enthusiastic hellos and semi-awkward side hugs. You stood with them in the garage, arms crossed tightly around yourself as you stood around waiting for the man himself. The garage was chaotic, multiple bodies moving too and from and all at once, trying to ready for the two practice sessions of the day. Your headphones were tuned to the live broadcast, so you spent the next fifteen or so minutes of commentary about Red Bull this and Ferrari that, Max this, Charles that. But then you hear it. Here comes the Honey Badger, about to hop into the car for the first Practice session of his last weekend with McLaren– his last weekend in Formula 1. 

Your head turned to look up at the screen just in time to see Daniel smiling at the camera, tuning out the conversation about Daniel between commentators. He waved into the lens before turning to Michael. They exchange a few words, the camera just zooming in before switching back to the Ferrari garage. You avert your gaze back to the present, the bodies clearing to make way for Daniel to climb into his car. The loved driver walks down the line of his friends, exchanging fistbumps and a bit of laughter before finally standing up before you. 

You could feel the stares, the careful watching to see what you two were about to exchange? A couple of light hearted jokes? A fistbump? Maybe even a hug?

You tried to ignore it, looking up at him with a smile you hoped resembles the bit of faith you had in him. “Have fun out there.” Your hands fiddled with each other, nervous nails picked at the skin of your cuticles. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you for the debrief?” 

You blew out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.” 

You didn’t see him until after the round of press after both practice sessions, but of course it was only for a fleeting moment. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze as he asked about you– always you. And then, with much reluctance, he allowed you to return to the hotel while he stayed back for another briefing. 

Quali day proved to be even more energetic than the last. People moved faster, time ticked louder, and the cars pushed and pushed. You enjoyed the smell of burnt rubber, of the adrenaline that ran through the track. You held your breath for most of the day, eyes trained on the times put up, jaw clenched as Daniel clawed his way to Q3. The air in the McLaren garage is light, happy, hopeful, as the boys stroll back into the garage. Rough pats to the back and loud words of encouragement roll through. Daniel was followed by a crowd of people. They all spoke atop each other, trying to get the last word in and trying to get a response from the driver before he disappeared. But he was already gone the moment he laid eyes on you. He waved the people away. Later, later he mumbled, offering them a smile before speeding up the pace and leaving the people to wait on later. You stood when Daniel approached, allowing him to wrap one arm around you in a quick squeeze. 

“Congratulations Danny,” You looked up at him, smiling widely as you leaned into his hold. 

“Thanks sugar.” There was a pause, allowing the nickname to sink in before he scrunched up his nose and shook his head. You burst out in soft giggles and he grinned widely. “Somehow that’s worse than toots.” 

“Definitely worse.” 

Race day was exhilarating. It was a rush, even if you were only sitting in the garage. You had your legs crossed over each other, muscles tense the entire time. You couldn’t relax, not while you held out for a bit of hope in Daniel’s race. Maybe no one expected much from him these days, but you expected nothing short of greatness. You sat in your chair, silently praying that Daniel would find that sweet release, the sweetest satisfaction in that car. You gripped the lanyard of your pass tightly, leant forward towards the screens as if it would make him move faster. You spoke to him, even if he couldn’t hear you through the turns of the circuit. 

And then it happened. The checkered flag was waved, the race had been won, the champion continued his reign. The night saw multiple ends, the night closed on the last of the honey badger in McLaren. While everyone jeered for Max, applauded for Sebastian, bid adieu to Nicky and Mick, you held your heart for Daniel. Your eyes watered as he spun the MCL36 in circles, sending smoke and his love to the crowd as they said their goodbyes. Quietly, you slipped back into the McLaren Hospitality, sat around by the door of his driver room as he got done with the last of press. You watched on the screens, like you always do, watched the laughter, the happiness, the adoration exchanged between Daniel and his comrades. All the hugs and see you soons, all the hope every single person held for him and his return. 

Daniel was a friend to everyone, beloved by everyone, and that included you. You felt a bit of pride at the thought, but maybe a bit of emptiness at the potential. Daniel was your friend, albeit your best friend. He had become your person, even if you had spent most of your time getting to know him through the screen. But that didn’t negate the fact. It didn’t change the affection you had for him, the adoration and respect you kept for Daniel in your heart. It didn’t change the fact that maybe, just maybe, you felt more for him than you’d ever admit. But that was a little secret between you and your bedroom ceiling. 

Daniel returned to you by himself. No crowds of people begging for a second of his attention, no staff reading off his agenda, not even Michael trying (and failing) to make Daniel laugh. He was all by himself, tired, disheveled, shoulders slumped and his face expressionless. You stood at one end of the room of the McLaren Hospitality and Daniel at the other. You stared at each other, unsure what was left to say after everything that happened in the hours behind him. 

And then you see it– the water brimming in his eyes, the quiver of his bottom lip. You saw the frown that curved into his lips, the way his chest puffed shakily as he drew a breath. He was stuck in his place, stuck in the sadness that had finally settled in his spirit. So you met him where he stood, arms wrapping around his frame so that he could finally, finally, let go. His hands held you close to his chest, the pads of his fingers pressing into your shoulder blades. He buried his face in your shoulder, squeezing you so tightly that you found it hard to breathe. 

“It’s really over.” 

You pulled his face from your skin to hold in your hands, pouting as your thumbs collected the sadness that spilled onto his cheeks. Left to right, up and down, you scanned his face– every freckle and wrinkle, the way his bottom lip protrudes in a pout. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay. It’ll be good. Okay?”

He nodded, head shaking quickly in your grasp as his hands scramble to pull you back into him. He held you like you were going to slip away just as every single good thing in his life had this last year.  His hand comes up to the back of your neck, holding firm and warm, as he inhales deeply. “ It’ll be okay. It’ll be good.” 

It’ll be good. 

Daniel sent you flowers in December.

An arrangement of yellow and orange poppies arrived at your door two days before Christmas. They were waiting for you when you arrived from last minute shopping. You picked up the vase, cradled it in your arms as your keys jingled into the keyhole. The windmill keychain from August twinkled in the dim hallway lighting, reminded you of the day spent with your favorite person. 

You set the flowers down on the counter, all other belongings forgotten at your feet. You picked at the small envelope that sat in the middle of the vibrant flowers. Inside, a note– typed, but the sign off was enough to tell you who had sent them. 

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢. 

-𝟹

Your heart swelled. Swelled so big you were sure it was going to burst underneath you. You bite down on your bottom lip, hard, trying to fight the awe-struck– no, lovestruck, smile that creeped onto your face. You tried to swallow those feelings down, just as you had for months now. Forget the butterflies and what they symbolize, or the way you jumped at the sound of your phone pinging or ringing. Forget, forget, forget.

Except that you can’t forget. You can’t forget or ignore or pretend like you haven’t fallen for this… this… for him. It’s not doable, and you had been fooling yourself thinking that if you pretended for long enough, that those feelings would cease to exist. Instead they festered, grew into a monster that held you tightly. In between blue and gray text bubbles, after hour long facetime calls, you found yourself falling for him. It was hard to admit to yourself because you felt silly at the notion that you could feel that way for someone you talked to on the phone. But it wasn’t silly, it was so fucking real. You were consumed by the smell of fresh fallen rain and curly hair, consumed by chasing the feeling of him gnawing at your heart. You were all consumed by Daniel. Him, him, him. 

You took a photo of the flowers, sending it as a text. 

You   5:24 PM Poppy, huh? 

His response was almost immediate. 

Daniel   5:24 PM You like it? 

You smiled. Smiled so wide your face ached. Daniel was halfway around the world. Fourteen something thousand kilometers away from you. He spent Christmas in the warmth, surrounded by his family while you were bearing it in bitter cold London. Thousands and thousands in distance, and still he makes you smile like he was sitting in the room with you.

You   5:25 PM Love it. Thank you Danny 

Christmas came and went as it always does. And in the week between then and the end of the year, Daniel called you. His face occupied your phone screen, that stunning smile plastered on his face. It was ten in the morning on the 27th of December, you were in the middle of a book– one you had been putting off because of work and traveling and enjoying the reality with Daniel in it. So you were reading, but then he called and the passage was forgotten. 

He claimed he had no reason to call you, that it was just because. It made your heart do flips, stupidly and erratically beating at the notion just because. You smiled, hummed as a response as you set the book aside. You asked about his holiday, he asked about yours. And just as easily as it has been before, the conversation sprouted into hours on the phone. You had slowly retreated into your bedroom, under the covers, had Daniel propped on the pillow just like he belonged. It was space reserved for him, even if he’s never laid in your bed before. God you left so much room for him in your life, he didn’t even know the half of it. He had become part of your equation, part of every what if that came across your mind– it was truly terrifying. 

Daniel quieted around twelve for you. He was sitting back on his couch, phone resting in his palm as he held it up high enough you had a view of his face. His gaze was soft as he stared at you, smiling sweet. 

“What?” You asked softly. 

“Nothing.” 

Another pause in the conversation. A brief moment of silence with an unasked question hanging in the space between you. You almost wanted to pry, but he beat you to the punch– answered the impending what you were about to whine.

“I’m flying back to Monaco for New Years… and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

You raised a brow. “You miss me?”

“I always do.”

Your heart screeched, cheeks ached with another smile. God you couldn’t stop fucking smiling. 

You shook your head, “Silly.” 

“Not silly. Just true. Come to Monaco. Please?”

How could you ever say no to him? How could you ever allow yourself to miss an opportunity to see Daniel again?

So on the 29th of December you flew the two something hours to Nice, took the train to Monaco and jumped straight into Daniel’s arms. He held you like it's all he ever knew, arms wrapped so tightly you’re sure you’d be stuck to him even if he let go. Your face is pressed into his sternum, his scent consuming you with a sharp inhale. Fuck, you would never get tired of this. 

December 30 was quiet– the calm before the storm. You were glued to the couch, Daniel’s hip attached to yours, while you watched movie after movie. In the first hour your legs were on top of his, then you switched the next hour. After the second movie, you were tucked into his side while his fingers twirled a lock of your hair. Round and round, a semblance to the way your mind circled him. Your thoughts ran in circles around Daniel, about what it would be like to be able to live that reality for longer than the week you were spending with him. You allowed yourself to imagine more Friday’s spent lazily with him. 

Daniel looked down at you as the credits rolled. “Thanks for coming out. I haven’t said it, and I should’ve the moment you landed.” 

You hummed, leaning into him further. He tightened his hold on you, it made you feel safe. “Anything for you.” 

Truly, anything for him. You would do it all, all Daniel had to do was ask. 

You woke up later than normal on the last day of the year. You laid in the guest bedroom of Daniel’s Monaco apartment, alone, tangled in sheets that regrettably smell just like him. The sound of glass clinking and heavy footsteps moving about the space travels into your room, muffled by the shut door. And as easily as you fall into a state of bliss at the sound, your mind rolls in daydreams about what it would be like to wake up to it over and over and over again. You were losing yourself, you knew that, but there was nothing stopping you from doing so. You free fall into the imagination of domesticity with Daniel and how easy and good it would all be. 

Three soft taps. Are you up? 

“Yeah, come in.” You sit up in bed, doing your best to comb down your bed head with the palm of your hands. Daniel poked his head through first before his body followed. You watched quietly as he made his way around the room, rolling into bed right next to you. He laid his head down against the pillow and you fought the urge to lay with him. Instead, you lean against the plush headboard and stare down at him. 

“Happy New Year's Eve,” His voice is hoarse, thick with sleep. Surely he’d just woken up.

You rubbed your eyes, smiled all the while. “Happy New Year's Eve.” 

He turned over, smiling into the fabric of his pillow case as he threw his arm over your thighs. Like it’s normal, like he’d done it before. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to get breakfast, but I think I could use another hour of sleep.” 

Your fingers twirled his curls, round and round, as you nodded. “Sleep then.” 

“Wake me in an hour? Then I promise we can go get breakfast.” 

“One hour. Gotcha.” 

Your fingers grazed his scalp, massaged his head of curls as he quickly fell back asleep. His body was limp next to yours, hot breath beating down on your skin. 

True to your words, you shook him awake an hour after he fell asleep. It’s been an hour. He groaned softly, arm tightening around your legs and pulling himself against the soft skin of your flesh. Five more minutes. You didn’t have it in you to pry, so you let him fall back asleep. Soft snores fill the space of the guest bedroom, and you sit there for another five minutes. You shook him once more, but he was a goner, lost in a deep sleep and dreams you could only wish to know. 

Slowly, gently, reluctantly, you pulled yourself from Daniel’s hold. You padded your way through his apartment, getting yourself acquainted with where things belong, in search of breakfast because while Daniel was too tired to care, you were hungry and needed food sooner rather than later. 

You cooked an omelet, made use of the last of his eggs and the veggies that were in his fridge. You could do without bacon for now– well you had to because he didn’t have it. You allowed the soft sizzle in the pan to lull your nerves to a sort of calmness you haven’t had since being here with Daniel. You tried to find a bit of clarity for yourself as you made breakfast. And right when you think you’re okay, that the daydreams and the yearning mean nothing, he’s in the room with you. 

He hadn’t said a word yet, but you knew the sound of his feet shuffling. He leaned up against the counter, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before watching you expertly flip the cooked egg over. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I promised you breakfast.” 

You shook your head, taking a quick glance up at him with a smile. “That’s okay, Danny. Want one?” 

He nodded, moving around you as he reached for the cupboard above your head. The kitchen was large, spacious, so clearly put together for a bachelor who didn’t spend too much time there. But despite the space, you found yourself bumping into Daniel, feeling the way his fingers trailed along your back as he moved behind you. You moved in sync, bumping into each other was just part of the dance. That’s what it felt like with him, a dance to music only the two of you seem to hear. It was always a dance, of pushing and pulling, going round and round until your head spun. It was beautiful. It was good. 

You didn’t get ready until much later. The sun had just begun to touch the ocean, painting the sky shades of orange. You watched from the guest room, legs crossed while your make-up laid sprawled out on the bed. And while you swiped brush after brush, a pat of a sponge here and there, you grew to envy the ocean. How lucky it is to be kissed, to be loved so badly that the sun returns to it every day. You yearned for the same, to have such warmth sink beneath you and make you feel whole. But most of all, you yearned for Daniel. 

You felt a little ridiculous. You felt stupid, insecure, so goddamn undeserving of the way your heart ached for him. You felt crazed, your head was a mess of thoughts of curly hair and the comforting smell of rain after a drought. You felt ridiculous because Daniel seemed to consume you, and you aren’t even sure if you consumed him in the same way. That’s when the fear settled, the need to run in the opposite direction because my god, what were you doing here? 

You had to stand from your spot on the bed, make up half done and not set, to pace the room. You tried to shake off the way every nerve ending fizzled with this… you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t admit it. Because how could you? Why should you? 

Maybe you hadn’t fallen, maybe this was a misplaced infatuation. Give it a couple more days, maybe even a couple more weeks and he would be nothing more than your friend, nothing more than a person who made life a little easier. Nothing less, nothing more.

But the tears cloud your vision, your hands shook, bile was climbing up the length of your throat. You felt so fucking sick. 

You sit back down in the bad, blowing out a breath through pursed lips. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. You flopped onto your back, tubes and compacts of make-up clattering against each other as the bed rippled your movement. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. It was fine, you were fine, everything was okay. 

Right? 

You aren’t sure how managed to finish getting ready, truth be told the last hour or so were a blur. But you were ready, buckled into the front seat of his McLaren 720s, trying to pace your heart with the heavy bass song playing through the speaker. Daniel was oblivious to your sudden mental turmoil, more than excited to see his friends and celebrate the end of one of the worst years of his life. He had expressed multiple times just how excited he was to let loose, to pretend like his reality isn't real, even if it was just for a couple of hours. 

The club was bass heavy, so loud that you could hear it as Daniel’s car slowed to a stop. Valet opened the door for you, stuck his hand out to help you exit the rather low sports car. Daniel grabbed the ticket before resting his hand on the small of your back and led you into the club. 

It was packed, filled to the brim with people who were probably so drunk they wouldn’t make it to midnight. You followed the bouncer’s lead, along the perimeter of the club and into the section behind the DJ booth. You recognized a few faces, some who were in the garage with you, others who drove the car. You were introduced, reintroduced, Daniel shouted your name over the blaring music. This is my best friend! 

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend. 

You smiled, tight lipped and polite, even though the panic had begun to return. You shouldn’t be there, you shouldn’t have come. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed a drink.

You needed several drinks– and several were served to you. Vodka this, vodka that. Oh a round of shots, why not? You had begun to lose yourself to the booze and the music, the nerves and the panic long forgotten. All that mattered was that you were moving along to the bass and that you felt good. You couldn’t feel the way your toes screamed in pain, begging you to sit down, even for a second. 

You only stopped because you had taken another shot and the world suddenly tilted to the left. Daniel met you on the sofa, arm resting on the back of it as he leant down to talk into your ear. “Slow down Poppy, we still got an hour til midnight!” 

You looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning into him because god you just needed to feel him. His hand fell onto your shoulder, holding you firmly. His lips mouthed something. Water? It must’ve been. You nodded, throat suddenly dry. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth in a feeble attempt to get rid of the cottonmouth. Daniel handed you a glass, and you sipped. You sipped until the ground leveled and your mind didn’t spin in circles. Sipped on the glass until Lando pushed it out of your hands and replaced it with a flute of champagne. Ten minutes! Fuck had that much time pass you by already? 

Slender fingers slipped onto your waist as you stood from the couch, the pads of his digits pressing firmly into your flesh. You felt secure, safe. Your mind still teetered between sobriety and inebriety, but you knew you’d remember the following moments for the rest of your life. 

Ten minutes turned into five, turned into one. And then you were counting down the seconds. The club was loud, the excitement building as you ticked closer to one. Daniel’s arm moved from your torso to hang over your shoulder. He pulled you into his side, squeezing tighter and tighter as he counted down. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year! The crowd erupted into a mess of cheers, of heavy bass and the pop of streamers. Lights flickered, and you caught brief glances of hugs and kisses, of happy welcomes and excitement of what 2023 was meant to bring. And oh how you wished that it was you. That you were a person in the crowd being kissed, even if it was some cheesy cliche. You just wished it were you. 

You made the mistake of looking up at Daniel, of letting curiosity get the best of you to see if he was seeing what you were. You wanted to know if he had the same desire written on his face as it was on yours. But instead, his gaze was already on you. Your cheeks burned, and you thanked the heavens that the lights distracted from the fact that you were blushed. Daniel smiled widely, removing his hand from your shoulder to rest on the side of your head. He pulled you into him, lips pressing into the soft skin of your temple. Once, twice. Then he craned his neck, pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting his lips hover over your ear.

“Happy New Year, Poppy.” 

You smiled, turned your head again so you could selfishly look into his honey eyes again. And maybe you knew that in doing this, your face would only be mere centimeters apart. All it would take is a simple lunge, an accidental shove. So close, so fucking close. You silently wished that he would, that he’d give into the cliche and kiss you. Your brain was screaming, begging. Kiss me! Just fucking kiss me! But all he did was smile. Dimples imprint themselves into the soft skin of his cheeks, his gaze so soft you wanted to vomit. He looked at you in a way that made you dizzier than all the liquor you consumed that night.  His hand comes up to cup your cheek, touch just ghosting your skin before planting firmly on the junction of your neck and jaw. Kiss me! Please kiss me! Won’t he do it?

You felt his fingers leave your cheek, creep to the back of your head and once again he’s pulling you in to kiss your forehead. 

You sighed, spirit deflated, even as you shut your eyes and leaned into the kiss once more. 

He cupped your cheeks again, both hands this time, squishing the soft flesh as he forced your  gaze up at him. He couldn’t see the disappointment in your features, too distracted by the lights, the music, by everything else. He smiled. He always smiled. “I love you Poppy, I love you, I do!”

Your heart flipped, rattled your ribs, beat loudly in your fucking head. You bit back a smile even though all you wanted to do was grin. You scrunch your nose, feigned disgust even if you were elated. He loved you, he loved you he did. 

You fell in love with Daniel in January.

Though, you’re sure that you had loved him for much longer. January was when you fully admitted it to yourself. No more denying, no more panic. Pure acceptance for the fact that you were in love with Daniel Ricciardo. 

You left Monaco on the second, much to your dismay. If you had it your way, you would’ve stayed forever. But work had resumed and your boss only let you take off an extra day and nothing more. So Daniel drove you to the train station, dragged your luggage out of his car and walked you all the way to the gate. Your ticket was clenched tightly in your first as you looked up at him, a bit of wind blowing at the stray hairs that couldn’t be held back by the elastic. He reached out, tucked a hair behind your ear before resting his hand against your cheek. It was warm, reeked of generic hand sanitizer. You leaned into him, smiling even if your chest ached. 

“Wish you could stay longer.” He muttered. 

“Wish you would just come with,” You countered. With me, you wanted to emphasize but… the statement seemed too intimate. With me. Come with me, please. 

He hummed, fingers hooking around the back of your neck to pull you into him. Your face collided with his chest in a soft thump, nose dug deep in the plush material of his t-shirt, just above his sternum. His hands readjust themselves around you, conforming to your frame against his body. Like a puzzle tab finding its perfect nook. He hugged you tightly, planted a kiss to the top of your head before flattening the hair in the same spot. You’d miss this, you thought to yourself, the few kisses given, the plethora of hugs exchanged, you were going to miss this. You were going to miss him. 

You’re the first to step out of the embrace, blinking away tears that had just begun to blur your vision. You coughed an awkward laugh, smiled, tried about anything to hide how sad you really were in the moment. But Daniel saw right through you, clicked his tongue as he nudged your chin playfully. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t cry.” 

His words had the opposite effect, pushed the tears over the brim of your waterline. You tried to laugh it off, mock yourself and the ridiculous splay of emotions. You shook your head and swatted his hands away as he reached out to you again. “I’m fine, I'm fine. If you hug me again, I’m afraid I may just end up staying.” 

Daniel’s reflexes were quick, right hand jolting forward to latch onto yours. He easily pulled you into him, quick enough so that you could catch the way his body rumbled with a chuckle beneath your touch. “I don’t see why that’s such a bad thing.” You indulged, melted right back into him, inhaled the sweet sweet smell of his cologne, committed every node to memory. 

You wondered what the travelers walking to and fro, squeezing past you without an ounce of politeness, were thinking of the two of you. Could they see it? Could they feel it? Or were you just two losers standing in a train station delaying a needed goodbye? 

Daniel pressed a gentle kiss against your cheek, soft lips catching you by surprise. His head dipped into your neck, arms squeezing you tightly. “I’ll miss you my little wildflower.” 

You grinned, stifled a little laughter at the cheesy nickname as you inhaled deeply, “You’re getting really good at this nickname thing,” You teased, fingers coming up to play with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. “I like Poppy more.” 

His body vibrated in a quiet chuckled, nodding against your shoulder. Noted. 

You pulled away again, eyes flickering to the clock for a brief moment before your fingers latched onto the handle of your luggage. Daniel sighed, tilted his head in a sad smile. You caught the way he flexed his fingers at the release of your own, rings glinting in the light. 

“So… goodbye?” You shrugged and he grinned, “See you soon?” You bit back a smile, “Arrivederci?” 

You giggled, nodding your head, “See you in London.” 

His lips part, a playful and breathy ah falling from his mouth as he nodded. London, London, London he says softly. “I’ll see you there Poppy.” 

You had a multitude of responsibilities waiting for you in London, your boss made that perfectly clear with the two lengthy emails sent to your inbox as you sat on the train. There were unfulfilled plans with friends, a declutter day penciled in for the following Friday, and dinner with your parents. You had a million and one things that needed your attention, and for whatever reason, the five or so hours of travels back home, you spent in thought of Daniel.

His kiss, his touch, his everything was stamped onto you, it was as if it were all happening in that moment.  It made you miss him even more, made your heart ache as you continued to move further and further from him. In the bits of sleep you found in your travels, your mind was consumed by him. Always him. You imagined that this was love, it was the only logical explanation. And so on the plane, while watching your flight path on the screen ahead of you, quietly and honestly, you admitted to yourself that this was love. You were in love. 

And you were terrified.

London greeted you coldly, the wind biting at your cheeks as you lugged your luggage from the Uber to the warm lobby of your complex. The doorman greeted you with a smile, wished you a happy new year as you passed him by. Exhaustion had you by the talons, gripped at your body and spirit and forced you into bed. You crawled underneath your covers, pulled a pillow to your chest as you let sleep take over you. And in your slumber, as you drowned in the fantasy of Daniel and all the what ifs, you miss his call. You missed the first, the second, the third, and then finally the soft ping of his text tone. 

Daniel   8:53 PM Are you awake? Please say you’re awake.

And another.

Daniel 8:55 PM You should’ve stayed. I wish you stayed. 

Daniel flew into London from New York in February. After he had fulfilled every press, interview, tiktok, whatever kind of  obligation being a third driver entailed– he hopped on a plane and flew straight to you.

What was meant to be a surprise turned out to be spoiled by his slight recklessness. He accidentally sent his pinned location to you instead of his friend, and in turn showed you that he was standing in the middle of Heathrow Airport. Then half an hour later, with excited text after text sent and a frenzied cleaning of your apartment, he was at your door and you were jumping into his arms. He laughed, walked you back into your home with one hand wrapped around your torso to keep your feet off the ground, and the other dragging his suitcase. 

You’re here you mumbled into his hoodie, arms squeezing tight. 

I’m here. 

Being with Daniel at home felt good. It felt normal. It felt right. And the longer he stayed, the longer you watched him fit himself in your life, the harder you fell. There was a small part of you that wished he didn’t mold into your routines so well, that a bit of awkwardness had struck and maybe even cured you of this hopeless feeling that clenched your heart so tightly. You wished that his place in your life didn’t make sense but it did. Daniel sitting across from you for breakfast, nursing a second bowl of cereal made sense.  His fingers looping your hair messily through a scrunchie while you cooked dinner made sense. The smell of fresh rain imprinted in every corner of your home just made sense. 

Daniel, walking into your room and sliding into bed next to you while you read a book, made the most sense. You didn’t flinch at the dip in the bed, or the way his shoulder leaned onto you, or the smell of his shampoo in his damp hair. Ignoring your sporadic heartbeat was a challenge, but being here with him was easy. You hummed in acknowledgement, resting your head on his shoulder as you finished out the chapter. You see the glow of his phone screen, the flicker in color as he taps through stories and posts, leaving them all on mute as a courtesy to you. You flipped through a couple more pages before tucking your bookmark in and shutting it. The book falls on your night stand with a soft thud, discarded and forgotten as you turn your attention to Daniel. 

“So I was thinking,” He mused, tapping something on his phone before setting it on his lap, “I leave in three days, so I think it’s only right we have a real sleepover.” 

Your heart did flips. Back flips, cartwheels, a double back handspring with spin and perfect landing. Danced its way all the way to the top of your throat, supported by the nerves and the intent of his proposal. “You tired of the couch?” You teased, stabbing your index finger into his bicep playfully. He chuckled. 

“Only a little. But I’ll gladly sleep on the floor if you’re too chicken to share a bed.” 

You swung your pillow over at him, smacking him in the chest. Shut up, you stuttered, sinking deeper into your bed. You try not to let his loud laughter tinge your cheeks red, to make the tips of your ears heat up as you silently wish the world swallowed you whole. You were being dramatic, maybe. He was teasing, of course you knew he was. But fuck the accusation could not be any truer. You were fucking terrified of sharing a bed with Daniel, how it would blur another line of your friendship, confuse you further, and in turn making saying goodbye in three days time infinitely harder. But you were a little dumbstruck when it came to your affections for Daniel, a little self-indulgent and allowed your little heart to take the reins of all your decision making. 

So that's how you end up lying dangerously close to the edge of your bed, watching as Daniel moved your pillows around to make a little more room for himself. Daniel. Making room for himself. In your bed. 

You were gonna be sick.

He didn’t take too long to settle into his side, pulling on the duvet over his abdomen. Pillows had been thrown to the floor, stuffed animals perched nicely on your desk after you so kindly asked him to. The mattress was bare between the two of you– no pillow wall or some imaginary line established. No claims to a side, or a little jab to remind the other to stay on their side of the bed. Just the plain sheet and a bit of space rests between you. 

Daniel clicked the lamp on his side of the bed off, darkness engulfing the space immediately. It took a minute or two for your eyes to adjust to the dark, to finally be able to trace the silhouette of Daniel’s features against the streetlight bleeding through your curtains. You trace the curls resting on his forehead, the bump on the bridge of his nose, down to the curve or each lip, and the point of his chin. 

“You’re staring,” He muttered. 

“No I’m not.” Yes, you were.

He didn’t comment, just turned onto his side so that he could look at you. Daniel tucked his hand underneath his pillow, pulling it flush against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The space between you was gaping, large and awkward, begging to be occupied by the warmth of a body– maybe yours. He noticed, pulled the covers down before patting the cream sheet softly. 

“I’m not gonna bite Poppy.” 

You scrunch your nose, reaching out to poke him with your index finger. “How can I be sure?” 

A single poke, pushing the tip of his nose inward before he juts his chin upward, catching your index finger between his teeth. 

“You can’t.”

You turned your face into the pillow as you flexed your hand open, using the force of your other four fingers to push against his face. His laughter rumbled against your palm, lips wet and leaving a stamp of him in the middle of your hand. You feel his slender fingers come up around your wrist to pull your hand away and push it back into your chest. The warmth that emitted from his skin stayed with you, molded into your skin lest you forget how Daniel felt against you. 

You didn’t budge from your position on the bed, and neither did he. Two people with an unreasonable amount of space between them– it was almost laughable. You wondered if he was as scared as you were to cross this line drawn in the sand. You wondered if he was afraid he’d get addicted to holding you, that he might never want to leave. Because you were afraid. You were afraid of losing yourself to a man you had no claim over, and falling so deep into him that you’d never find a way out. So you kept the bit of space, forced a bit of restraint on your heart that seemed to be reaching out to him. 

Sometime between hushed whispers and the soft sounds of sheets rubbing together as you adjusted and readjusted yourself in your place, you fell asleep. You dreamt of the rain, the way it kissed your skin, kissed the Earth and all that is in it. You dreamt of a garden filled with poppies, of bright colored petals that poked out of the grass. You dreamt of familiar smiles, the sound of laughter. God, you dreamt of happiness. 

The sun seeps through your curtains, golden light flooding the room. It shines the brightest between the curtains, peeking through to pull you from your slumber. You groan softly, burying your face deeper into warm skin, pulling the duvet over your shoulder. Toned arms shift around you, hold you tighter before mumbling incoherencies and drifting back to sleep. 

Without the cologne, Daniel  smells like citrus scented soap. Bright, sweet, stuck to his skin even after tossing and turning all night. You almost envy the way he never seems to smell bad, how beautiful smells like peeled oranges or rained-on flowers stick to him. You envy the way he snores softly, clutching on to sleep better than you ever could. Because now you’re awake, mind racing against your heart as you wrap your head around how you laid: tangled up with Daniel. 

You lay stiff, terrified out of your fucking mind as Daniel holds on to you for dear life. He’s so warm. The kind of warmth that compared to the sun beating down on your skin on a cool spring day. The kind that relieves you of goosebumps, of chilly fingertips and the feeling that the tip of your nose might just fall off. Daniel was like the sun in a lot of ways, you conclude. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force yourself to return back to your dreams. But it burns where your skin meets Daniel’s– hot, sticky, melting together. You can feel the dips of his muscles against you, the firmness to them even if he held you so softly. His arm lays over your torso, curled in towards you to keep you close to him, while his chin rests on the top of your head. Your face is positioned between his collarbones, tip of your nose just ghosting the supple skin there. You try to turn your head, find a place in which you didn’t drown in him, but no matter where you turned, you were comfortably stuck to him. 

Daniel groans above you as you try to turn your head again, squeezing you tighter. “You move too much in your sleep.” Sleep weighs down on his voice, makes it heavy and gravely, rough with exhaustion. You smile, humming as you stuff your face back into his chest. 

“Sorry.” 

He hums, “Morning.” 

“Morning.” 

You lay with Daniel quietly, stuck in the position you woke up in. No one moves, no one speaks, just enjoying the soft lull of steady breathing and the world starting its day without the two of you. Cars pass by your street and birds converse outside your window– you imagine they were talking about the sun. You lay wrapped in Daniel until he shifts, pulling his arm from your torso to rub his sleep-riddled face. You look up, chin resting in the middle of his chest. You watch his lips stretch into a yawn, the way his index finger and thumb come up to wipe the tears that brim at his eyes. And then he cranes his neck, points his chin downwards so that he can catch a glimpse of you. 

And he smiles. 

“Told you I don’t bite.” 

Daniel leaves in three days. He reminds you over breakfast, biting into a piece of toast like it isn’t a big deal. Three days left of this, of breakfast in the mornings and his face before bed. You smile sadly into your oatmeal, mixing the fruit around the slurry before spooning it into your mouth. Silverware clatters against porcelain, it echoes against the walls of your home. It makes your heart miss him before he’s even gone. 

The days blend into the other, no memory seemed to have a cut off. Daniel’s last three days with you were a lump sum of memories, colliding, meshing into each other, dependent on the hours before so that the now made sense. And in every moment, all the laughter and smiles, the almost-touches and almost-kisses, the larger the space in your heart grew for Daniel. Your mind let you wander treacherously through the what-ifs, the maybes, and the could bes. What if we. Maybe we. We could be. We, we, we. 

The night before his flight, you took him to a work thing. That’s how you described it as you helped him pick between two polos. You point at the striped one before flopping onto bed. “It’s just this weird game night. It’s supposed to boost morale, help us bond. It’s been a rough couple months in the office so this is corporate’s way of building– well, rebuilding the peace.” 

Daniel nods, pulling off his shirt before shrugging on the navy striped button up over his shoulders. “So what is it… like poker? Black Jack maybe?” 

You ignore the way his abdomen flexes as he readjust the shirt, the buttons still undone and swaying with his movement. “Maybe. I dunno, I heard someone from accounting was gonna bring scrabble.” 

He laughs like you were joking. But low and behold, as he walked into the pub behind you, three people were already seated at a table elbow deep in a game of scrabble. Tiles scattered the board as two of the three players argued about the validity of the word. Cards were thrown around, smacked on the table to show off a good hand. Poker chips clatter as they’re pushed across the tables, and littered in all that mess is booze being bought left and right. Between the bustling of bodies and the sweet buzz of conversation, you can just hear the bass of some EDM mix playing on the loudspeaker.

You and Daniel make your way to the bar, immediately greeted by the people who work in your department. They smile up at Daniel, wide-eyed as they shoved you playfully. You didn’t tell me you were friends with the Daniel Ricciardo! You mouth a quick I’m sorry as phones are thrusted in his direction– all of which he takes gracefully, taking selfie after selfie. And after maybe the tenth one, you reach into the crowd of people, gripping his wrist tightly as you pull him to you. 

“Alright guys, he’s meant to be on break, leave him alone now.” You wave your hand in the air, shooing away coworkers who just grin and nod, a sea of thank yous sent his way his wrist slips from your grasp to offer them a wave. Daniel grabs the beer set out for the two of you, before slinging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you to a table top in the far end of the bar. He sets the beers down before pulling your chair out for you, hand out for you to boost yourself up onto the lifted chair– a hand you gladly take.

Daniel sits to your left, fingers snaked around the neck of the amber bottle as he brings it up to his lips to take a sip. You watch quietly, spinning the bottle between your index finger and your thumb, eyes fixated on the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as gulps his beer. He doesn't seem to notice– or maybe he just doesn't care. Instead he leans in towards you, eyes fixated on the crowd ahead of him, the hands reaching over tables and the soft slaps of cards being shuffled. “So, what do you think, Uno or Cards Against Humanity?” 

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, sucking in a gust of air between your teeth. “I don't know, as appealing as playing Cards Against Humanity with my coworkers and in turn finding out a little too much about their personal life is, I think Uno might just be our safest option.”

Daniel laughs at your sarcasm. Nodding as he slides out from the table, hand out for you to take. C’mon then, he hums as he encloses your fingers in the warm grip of his hands, tugging you between tables and passer-bys, plopping down at a table of five. You recognize one other person at the table, the dealer, who smiles at you as she deals you and Daniel in. It was meant to start as a friendly little game, with lighthearted laughter and maybe a bit of peaking over at the other’s cards. But between the third and fourth deal, people had begun to throw quid on the table, then all of a sudden you’re down twenty and Daniel was happily collecting the bills on his end. You scowl over at him, nudging his leg with the toe of your shoe. 

“You don’t need all this money.” 

“Not my fault you suck.” He puckers his lips, sends a kiss over to you in the space between you two. 

“Bite me,” You sneer, picking up your new set of seven cards, organizing them by color. 

You catch a whiff of his cologne as he leans in. You pull your hand close to your chest, pressing the cards flush against your being as he lines his mouth up to your ear to whisper, “Careful what you wish for.” 

Your cheeks flush, bright pink though no one at the table seems to catch it under the dim lighting of the pub. Another game, you’re sure you’ve got the upper hand this time around but then Daniel drops a skip… and then another… and then he stacks a draw two… twice. By the end of the game you had about half the deck of cards in your hands and Daniel counting about forty quid in his hands. You’re scowling again, and he laughs at your misfortune. 

You excuse yourself from the table, running up to the bar to get yourself another beer. Stacy– you think her name is Stacy anyway– slides next to you, picking up a bit of conversation. It’s small talk, surface level shit until she’s asking about the boy you had been stuck to all night. She teases you, refers to him as the boy, it makes you feel giddy. To one person in this room, Daniel was your little secret. And it felt nice. It felt good. But you shook your head, the blush taking over your face again as you took the beer that was handed to you, mumbling how he’s just a friend. But Stacy– or is it Sarah? She smiles and shrugs, taking her cocktail as she hops off her bar stool, red straw placed between her coco colored lips to take a sip before stepping back. 

“All I’m saying… friends don’t look at friends the way you two look at each other.” 

She leaves you at the bar with a sentence equivalent to fuel to a fire. It burns, oh it festers. Your mind reels over every moment, every second you’ve spent with Daniel, trying to figure out how he looked at you. 

Your eyes scan over the crowd, the mess of chatter tuned out as you look for a mop of curls which you spot towards the front of the bar. He’s laughing– he’s always laughing. You might’ve been meters away, but you could hear him, the joyful ha has over the multitude of conversation. And for a moment, like every cliche written and produced, the room stops. Suddenly the crowd disappears, the music is turned down, and it’s just you and Daniel. The lamp over the table beams, reflects over his golden skin as he deals the cards down on the table. His fingers are quick, counting quietly to himself as he goes around the table. And when he’s done, he sets the left over cards down in the middle of the table in a neat stack. Before he picks up his set, he reaches over to your seat, pulls the cards together neatly and pats it down before picking up his own. You watch as his slender fingers pick at the cards– that one goes at the end, oh and this one between these two. He picks and pulls, slots cards by cards til he’s satisfied with his line up. Then he squeezes the cards into one stack, setting down on his thigh below the table. 

His head turns, you see the soft swing of his curls as he looks around the bar. He looks and looks and oh, relief. Daniel’s shoulders drop when he catches sight of you, a smile so wide your cheeks ache for him. His hand goes up in the air, waving at you to return to your seat. Hurry! You aren’t sure if he actually said it, but you know his lips moved that way. He smiles, his eyes are warm and bright, this sultry kind of brown that you could distinguish from miles away. You miss it as he turns away to immerse himself in a conversation you didn’t care to know about. You smile, just enough so that your cheeks round a bit and your eyes squint in just the slightest. You smile in a way that a girl watches a boy she loves from across the way, watches as he melts into her life. And he melts so well, sits so comfortably without you as he awaits your return. He has his arm slung over your chair, nodding over at someone you could care less about. He laughs at jokes, makes some back, and– god you just couldn’t stop staring. You couldn’t stop watching him. Him, him, always him. 

You walk back over to the table, setting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder as you lean down to him. His hand comes up to rest over yours, head turning ever so slightly so that he can see you. Your heart is in overdrive, your body overheating. You try to ignore it. You try, try, try. 

“I’m gonna go get some air.”

“You okay?” His brows furrow with concern. You nod, and he doesn’t seem to relax. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Daniel. I’m fine. Just stuffy in here.” 

“Well, let me come with.” 

He goes to get up from his seat, but you push him back down. “No, no no I’ll be fine.” You smile– you think you do. “I’ll be back. Win this round so you can buy me a drink after.” 

He looks unconvinced, eyes scanning your face for a morsel of doubt, for a twitch of lip that would beg him to accompany you. But you keep your expression fair, squeeze his shoulder again, and he concedes. He nods, patting your hand again. “Okay okay, deal.” 

Your hand comes up to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as it slips away. He turns his head, watches you walk out the door while the game starts. You feel his eyes burning in a hole in the back of your skull and it only makes you walk quicker. 

The cool London air blows the door open, bites at your skin and fights against the warmth pooling with the booze. You wrap your arms around yourself, rubbing your palms against your arm, squeezing the flesh there. Your eyes fall shut, inhaling deeply as you try to center yourself, trying to get ahold of your heart, trying to get it to slow down. Tears were threatening you, choking you. 

You didn’t want to say bye. You don’t want all this to end, to have Daniel pluck himself out of your company and back to his normal routines. You don’t want to go back to the facetime calls, and debriefs over texts. No you want to smell the rain, you want the cheeky laughter and fighting over who gets the rest of the cereal. You want late night drives to Taco Bell, and early mornings to get coffee because you were too lazy to run your own. But most of all, you want Daniel. You want the good, the bad, all the highs and all the lows. You want every single moment between now and an indefinite future. 

And you felt crazy for wanting such a thing. 

You hear the door creak behind you, a bit of the conversation escaping with him before he shuts the door with a soft thud. 

“Hey, come back inside. You’re missing out on the game.” Daniel bumps his shoulder with yours, a smile so wide it drives fear into your chest. You look up at him, take all the strength left in you to smile– and you hope that you do it well. His smile, bright, excited, so reminiscent of the Daniel you bumped into some time ago. He’s tanned, hair curly, muscles bulky, he’s back to who he was before a string of bad luck wore him down. He was this new Daniel that you had fallen so head over heels for, and it hurt your heart not to say it.  

The words sit in your throat, run it dry and make it hard to breathe. You were getting all choked up with a secret you couldn’t bear to keep.

He bumps your shoulder again, “What? Are you scared to lose again?” 

God you were so afraid to lose. But maybe you had already lost more than you could ever admit to yourself. 

Daniel says your name. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

You had a dream about this moment. It happened in the rain, colorful poppies potted in a flowerbed by a house, and oh how the world smelled divine. You could still hear the laughter, still see the smile that graced his face. You dreamt about the way he would wrap himself around you, allow you to bury yourself in his warmth and the scent of fresh fallen rain. In every universe, you imagined the way the words would sound coming from his mouth. You imagined the simplicity, the good in the moment. 

But then you see his face run pale, lips parted without the words to back him up. You see how he scratches the back of his neck before it comes around to rub his stubble. And then his fingers are running through his hair. He takes a step back, and there’s this space between you that wasn’t there before. Your name rolls off his tongue, sounds so despondent it twists your heart. It sounds so…

“I-I-I-” You stammer like it would mend the situation, “I’m sorry but… I couldn’t keep it in. Couldn’t continue to pretend like my heart didn’t wanna beat out of my chest everytime I see you, so I just had to– I had to say it.”

You see his chest begin to rise with each breath he takes. It’s slow, but deep. His eyes are wide, they’re panicked, they look so fucking afraid. 

“Daniel I–” “What are you doing?” Your lips fall shut. What are you doing? You bite down on your bottom lip, palms pressed together as you rub them in front of you to distract from the tears that were already beginning to cloud your vision. Daniel lets out a breath, hands coming up to run through his hair– again. “Why… why would you say that?” His hands rub his beard, again. “Fuck, Poppy why would you say that?” 

The air is caught in your throat. The words on your tongue melt away, daydreams dissolve. You were left with your skin and a heart that continues to shatter because Daniel stares at you like you’ve done something wrong. And all you could, all you had the strength to do, is smile. You smile because that’s all you had left to give. A smile that made your lips quiver, cheeks tremble and wet with your sadness. You don’t know what else to do, so you smile. 

“I just needed you to know.” 

Daniel drops his face into his hands, shaking his head into his palms. You watch him, watch as he mumbles to himself. You watch in tears, your shattered heart at your feet as you wait for the change in tone, wait for a moment you’ll never live to see. He lifts his gaze back up to you, the panic gone and replaced this kind of pity that makes you wish you never said it in the first place. 

He says your name with a bit of remorse, and yet it still sounds beautiful. “I… I can’t. Poppy I’m sorry.” 

You let out a breath. It’s your turn to turn away, hands coming up to push your hair back as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to take over you. Another shaky breath, another drop of tears onto your cheeks. You couldn’t let him see you so broken, you can’t let him have that. No, you refused.

“Poppy–” “Daniel, please.” “Poppy you mean so much–” 

“Daniel,” You turn around, hand out to motion him to stop, “Please don’t. Please.” 

“You are the greatest friend–” He continues anyway, torturing you with the right thing to say– the most reasonable thing to say, “–I could ever ask for. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. How much I–” 

“I don’t want that Daniel I–” “–How much I appreciate you.” 

He reaches out for you. You should’ve pushed him away, you should’ve stepped back, but god you are so weak for him. So you bask in the warmth of his hand, the way he squeezes it like he was trying to stitch back that hole he left in your chest. You let yourself rest in the false sense of security for just a second. You stare at the point your skin touches, the way his skin contrasts yours, fingers holding onto yours so tightly. It’s warm. It’s good. 

It’s good for all of two seconds, and then you’re crying and pulling yourself from him again. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, shaking your head and smiling. Daniel says your name, desperate to get to you again. But you shake your head, take another step back. 

“You don’t know how much you mean to me.” His voice is a whisper, nearly overpowered by the gust of cold wind. “Poppy–”

“Daniel, it’s okay.” Your voice breaks because it’s not. But you pretend that it is to save face, to pretend that you can walk away from this moment with your head held high. 

He calls your name again, craning his neck so that he can meet your gaze, and you try to avoid it but he comes into view. His hand comes up, chin tucked in his index finger and thumb to lift your face. “But it's not. I can see it on your face.”

“But it has to be, right?”

You clamp your lips into a tight line, tugging your face out of his hold. It’s quiet, tense, and you’re so fucking miserable. For the first time, there’s a sense of dread. In the months you’ve grown to know Daniel, to fall in love with him, in the time that brought you to this moment– you now feel that dread. It sits heavy in your chest, squeezing your heart so tight you think it might pop. If someone had asked you all those months ago if you could picture walking away from Daniel, your answer would be a resounding no. You could never picture yourself doing it– and even if you could, you could always picture running straight back to him.

But now, now you’re forced to reckon with the reality that you have to walk away and never look back. That if you want to hold on to the very little dignity you have left, you should say your goodbyes and walk away. But where was the good in this goodbye? It was just a promise that this is the end, that the next time you see him would not be of your intention. You would have to accept that the only good in this farewell is that it’s permanent. 

So in February you walked away with your heart in your hands and a gaping hole in your chest shaped like Daniel. You walked yourself to the underground railway and sobbed because it was the only thing left for you to do. You clutched onto your chest because it hurt so fucking bad. 

Daniel collected his items from your apartment the next day while you cried in your bedroom. He knocked on your door, twisted the knob only to find that it’s locked. He said he’s sorry through the door, he said it over and over you had to pull the pillow over your head. 

I don’t deserve you Poppy, his voice is muffled but so fucking clear at the same time, I’m sorry Poppy. I… I’ll see you soon.

And then it was over. Daniel was gone– easily, tragically, and all at once. All the memories that mesh together melted into your sadness. It kept you in bed with the blinds drawn shut. Darkness and despair always paired well together. 

Your phone pings, the screen lights up and illuminates the bedroom. But you don’t have the heart to look, because you know who it is. You could see his contact photo, you can see the letters spell out his name. So instead you bury yourself deeper into the pillows and blankets, bury yourself deeper into your hopelessness. For just a moment, you wanted to forget that he existed, that he was every part of your life, that you ever poured your heart to him thinking for a second that he would feel the same way. 

Daniel 4:33 PM Please don’t forget about me

You’ll never forget him and everything he was to you. Never.

February blends into March. March into April. April to May, June, July. And suddenly it’s August again. 

You lay on the beach in Mykonos, nursing another strawberry margarita. You love  strawberry margaritas. But this time around, you stay away from the bustling movements of the bar, instead choosing to lounge by the pool in hopes to catch a tan. After all, what was summer for? 

You try to ignore the obvious, what the Mykonos was to you a year prior. The memories it gave the person it brought to you. The laughter. The ease. The smell of fresh fallen rain. All the good in Daniel clung onto you and you clung right back. A year ago you met someone who changed your worldview, caught a glimpse of your soul, before shattering your being. He was the best and worst thing that could’ve possibly happened to you. 

August… August and all the months that followed slipped away in a moment in time. It fell to the back of your mind, laid to rest so that you’d find a bit of peace. You hope Daniel is well, wherever he is in the world. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten about you, like how you haven’t forgotten him. 

Another sip of your strawberry margarita, drinking down the remnants of slush in the glass before setting it down and laying it back. And the sun disappeared, a shadow took its place. But you were warm, you were comforted, you felt at peace. You felt good. So you smile, hand coming up to block the bits of sunlight that peek behind him. You catch a glimpse of messy curls and a smile so wide you’re sure it hurts. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

d rambles. . . hey girl hey. i haven't put out a fic in fucking ages, sorry bout that. but yay, new blog, new fic!! this turned into a MONSTER, but i think im happy with how it all came together. was the ending a little rushed? maybe. but in my defense, this whole fic turned out soooo much longer than i initially planned. anyways. i hope you liked this one & as always, feedback is always always appreciated.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo angst

[famemonsterrr]

Astrology observations part 19.

! Pliz these are my own observations and experiences not facts so really don’t take them so seriously because we all have different experiences and opinions !

- Sagittarius suns/rising people are always smiley and bright especially the women I have example of miley Cyrus (she is Sagittarius sun)

- I have noticed that a lot of people who have Sagittarius rising they end up being either addicted to weed or having this hippie guru style you know the todays crystal girlies

- Fire signs are meant to be rock stars or in stage in general. If you have noticed so many stars have fire suns or placements

- Aries they always have a way to look like a HOT mess look at my wife gaga she is a mess and that’s what makes her hot

- Taurus mars are the most lazy active bitches out there I swear to god it’s a curse to be active yet wanting to go slow and maybe chill out for days until you found the right time to do something.

- Scorpio placements/8th house placements whatever you do pliz wear Smokey eye look and black clothes. You just look soo good with this style and really makes u so sexy

- Leo sun and rising most of the time have diamond shaped face not all the time of course like Selena Gomez is a Leo rising but her face is round youthful face her cancer energy is still there lmao

- among the earth signs in men the most organised and clean is Capricorn but in women the most organised and clean obsessed is Virgo all the Capricorn men I have in my life are so organised and clean to a sick level

- water signs are the obsessed lovers always. Like even me who is Pisces sun and Venus in the 8th house (Scorpio energy) I’m very obsessed not with different people (like a Pisces dominated) but definitely with a specific person for so many years. Scorpio is just our favourite insane little water signs and cancers are the best hiding it but they love to be obsessed with their crushes/lovers

- out of the earth signs, Capricorn is the most softie don’t get fooled by Virgo being always there to help they aren’t that nice about it. Taurus is Taurus- strict and specific yet very lay back person but don’t provoke them. However for me Capricorns have been the best people ever- very patient, they don’t start drama and so giving in every aspect.

Thank you for reading<3

Masterlist if you want to read more of my blogs

I’m really grateful for all of y’all reading and liking my post. I hope y’all safe,healthy and peaceful 🫶🏻

Love u all

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #natal chart #air signs #water signs #earth signs #fire signs

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 4: Stalking/Obsession

Stalking/Obsession - Eyeless Jack X F!Reader

Warnings: DUB CON, breeding kink, biting, marking

AN: I don't speak Polish so forgive me </3. ALSO this is a take on my dear @creepynoodleheadcannons's prompt featuring EJ on Day 19 from their 2022 Kinktober. Will tag the fic HERE.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Reblogs are appreciated!

In the darkness of your room, you sat curled in your sheets with the feeling of dread coursing through your veins. Sweat ran down your brow, down the back of your neck and soaked your bed as you stared at your window. You saw his shadow looming just outside, a monstrous being that had been tormenting you for the first half of the year. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest like a little rabbit about to be caught in the jaws of a wolf as his claws scratched against it. 

He’d never been so bold before. 

When he first started, he was silent. His sharp claws played with the seams of your mind, delicately lifting the fragile threads before popping them up and breaking them, reveling in the sound of the strings snapping. It was small. A coffee cup you’d thrown away with your lipstick marks had gone missing but you assumed you’d managed to throw it out somewhere else. The hairs from your brush had been cleaned out but weren’t in the trash. Some of your clothing had gone missing. You assumed that you were becoming increasingly forgetful, but your underwear going missing? Your still full shampoo and conditioner bottles disappearing? 

And then he revealed himself. You thought you’d accidentally summoned a demon when he first appeared in the corner of your eye. He was always there, watching, waiting, and so fucking persistent. The way he spoke about you was deranged, like you were the only thing he craved in the entirety of his life. He spoke of how sweet you’d be - his final meal, the feast to end all others. 

“Go… Go away,” you shakily cried out while you dug your face into the pillow in an attempt to fend him off. But you knew it was a useless attempt. Tonight was the night he’d finally make you his and devour you whole. Your body shook with fear as you watched the shadow of his hands move sluggishly, like he wawa toying with you on how slow he could be. Toying with you, building up his own anticipation with glee. You heard Polish spill from his lips, or maybe an archaic form of it, and like magic, the window flew open. It invited the colder of October air into your room, red and orange leaves spilled across your floor as his large form blocked out the light of the moon herself. 

“You don’t really mean that,” he purred. His voice was deep and laced with a Slavic accent that sung with the cadence of ancient gods and their demons. His face was hidden by a mask, a dark pool of inky blue while the eye sockets wept with tar. If you looked close enough, you could see the knife marks of where it had been carved a very, very long time ago. He slipped through your window despite his size. Your nose filled with his scent. Musk. The earth. Iron. Smoke from campfires not long doused. Ammonia. 

Your stomach wanted to wretch at the very smell of him. Fear stoked every part of your body as you pried your eyes away from your pillow and peeked up at him. He was large, much too large. The moonlight framed him as dark and imposing. He was strong, you knew that, and his skin was the color of ash. And for a creature that seemed to take joy in pursuing a much more human form, he still reeked of otherworldly. His legs were cloven, like that of a black goat, and his teeth were sharp, slightly yellowed and large like that of an apex predator. Roots and the earth seemed to crawl up his legs like the earth itself wanted to reclaim him, and his joints didn’t seem to fit him right. His elbows, his knees, shoulders, everything was popped into place haphazardly, a vessel to contain something much larger than what he was born as. 

He took advantage of your fear as you looked up at him. His grin only widened behind his mask. He crawled up your bed, caging you in with his body. His clawed hands traced your warm body as you balled up in a weak attempt to shut him out from you. 

“Please, don’t,” you murmur as you watch his clawed hands crawl up your body. “I already told you no-”

He gave you a look from behind his mask before reaching his hand upwards to remove it. His arm moved over to rest it on your nightstand, as if he were making himself comfortable. His mouth was curled upwards into a grin, large and knowing. 

“Come now, kochanie moje. Don’t be so frigid towards me. Open up. Let me in.” His sharp talons moved to cut your clothes from your body, not caring about your cries of protest. “You cannot resist me forever,” he whispered in your ear as your body trembled. “Try and fight as you may, your body calls for me, and I must answer. You were meant for this,” he breathed in your ear as you meekly held your hand up to his large chest in another attempt to push him off. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. 

“Tak kochanie,” he whispered back, “you do. I need you. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? I need your body, your heart, your mind, your very soul,” he groaned as his hand traced your soft, supple skin. “I want to breed you to make you mine forever.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as you shook like a leaf. You shook your head. “You can’t-”

“Don’t worry,” he purred once more, voice hungry and lusty, “I’ll make it feel good. I always do.” 

You were almost snapped out of your fear from the second half of his sentence but found it quickly returned when his teeth sunk into your neck. “Oh fuck!” You yelped, feeling the warm blood from your neck bead downwards to drape your collarbone and your nape. “What the hell was that for?” 

Jack didn’t immediately answer, only grinned and opened his mouth. A long, purple tongue slithered out and lapped at the teeth marks he’d left, a soft apology for drawing blood. “Mating mark,” he answered. “One of the many physical kinds I can give to you.” 

You kept your mouth shut as you felt his hands barely leave you to the belt of his pants. He undid it, and then slowly pumped his cock. Large, knotted, that was all you could see in the darkness only illuminated by the moonlight. So distracted by how girthy and large he was and the fact you KNEW he wouldn’t fit inside of you, a cry ripped free from your throat as his other hand effortlessly pried your legs apart. 

Jack’s clawed fingers easily moved down to your pussy, already wet from the budding anticipation. He cooed condescendingly. “Awh, and here I thought I would need to convince you even more.” His index and middle finger opened your lips up, and through the darkness, his sockets keyed in on your glistening pussy. “You were made for this, to please me, to be bred by me.” Slowly, he slid his index finger inside of you and watched through the darkness of your room as you bloomed for him. Heat painted your entire body, most notably your cheeks - Jack’s always had the ability to sort of ‘toggle’ thermal vision - and that’s where the heat was most notably concentrated. Well, that and definitely between your legs. Your pussy was burning for him. Needed to be filled, didn’t it? 

His index finger was soon joined by his middle, and he stretched you out as best as he could. “You feel so warm, kochanie,” he grinned. “So soft and sweet, and you smell just as good too. Maybe I should get a taste before I take you,” he thought aloud. 

Fearing retaliation, you hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” you squeaked like a deer caught in headlights. It didn’t help that your body seemed to call for him. Despite how much you knew this wasn’t good, your body squeezed around him. When his thumb circled your clit, you moaned softly, embarrassed that you showed him even a smidge of pleasure. He thumbed your clit some more and felt your hips buck up. 

And he laughed. Jack laughed. 

“See? I knew you couldn’t resist me.” After he fingered you a little bit more, enjoying the sounds of your soft moans and how you desperately tried to deny your true feelings towards him, he pulled his fingers out. “Do not pout,” he chuckled as he lifted his fingers to his lips. One of his tongues slithered out of his mouth once more before curling around his slick covered fingers. An obscene moan left his lips, and if he had eyes, you were sure that they would be rolling up. “Gods, you taste so good,” he praised. “So sugary and meaty,” he moaned again. “Perfectly made for me.” 

Jack mounted you this time, the head of his cock pressed against your tight lips as he watched you squirm underneath him. It was magical to see you buck your hips up like you could hardly resist him. “Open up, kochanie,” he cooed as he started to push his thick cock into you. He grinned when your nails dug into his uncovered forearms while your eyes widened. “Wrap your legs around me and breathe. Take me. Take me,” he whispered again and again, his hips pushing closer and closer to your body as his cock split you open. 

You did just that, legs wrapped tightly around his waist before moving your hands up to his back. Your nails dug into his hoodie while you pulled him tightly against you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted sharply forwards, the head of his cock hitting your cervix while not even fully hilted inside of you. His knot was thickly pressed against you, far too big for you to take, balls rested against your ass and heavy with cum. “Oh, oh my gods-” you wept as your body struggled to adjust to his size. He felt so big, every part of him. 

“Bloom for me,” he urged as he started to thrust his hips. His lips danced across your neck as he cock filled you with every thrust. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he praised, “look at you. How beautiful you are.” 

Your thighs were tense as he began to pick up the pace as you softly moaned for him, unable to deny any longer just how good Jack was making you feel. The tears that had welled in your eyes slipped down your cheeks but you unashamedly kept calling out for him. Your pussy felt so stretched open and still small as your slick gushed around him. You were soaking the bed from how good he stroked you. You arched your back slightly into his chest and tipped your head back to allow his lips to travel back up to your throat. You felt his teeth playfully move around where he’d already bitten you before softly biting you on the opposite side to mirror it. 

“You’re mine now, kochanie. Mine now forever.” The sounds of your moans were like music to his ears as he listened to your moans and how your body grew closer and closer to being knotted. He’d breed you, and then you’d have no choice but to be his for all eternity. 

#minors dni #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n

[parkerslatte]

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Last Updated: 10th April 2024

Requests: OPEN

Key:

NSFW = s

ANGST = a

FLUFF = f

Current no. of fics: 19

Current no. of series: 4

•••

•• AZRIEL ••

Strings That Bind Us , Part Two, Part Three (f,a)

You Are Mine, I Am Yours (f)

Drawn To You (f)

Morning Bliss (f)

Not Fated (a/f)

Broken Fence (a)

Hands To Myself (f)

Drunken Kisses (f)

Needles (f)

Fighter (a,f)

Centuries Coming (f,a)

Ends of the Earth (a,f)

It’s Been a Long, Long Time (a,f)

•SERIES•

Deals With Our Devils

Finding Home

Dance of Affection

•••

•• CASSIAN ••

One Step Back, Three Steps Forward (f,a)

•••

•• RHYSAND ••

N/A

•••

•• LUCIEN VANSERRA ••

Settled Nerves (f)

•••

•• ERIS VANSERRA ••

Warm Me Up (f,s)

So Loved (f)

Unspoken (f,a)

•SERIES•

Overlooked

•••

•• HELION ••

N/A

•••

#azriel #cassian #Rhysand #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #eris acotar #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #rhysand acotar #lucien acotar #ACOTAR #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader

[alphynix]

Jiangxichelys neimongolensis was a terrestrial turtle that was part of an extinct group known as nanhsiungchelyids, whose closest living relatives today are the aquatic softshell turtles.

(This species was previously known as "Zangerlia” neimongolensis, but has since been moved into the genus Jiangxichelys instead.)

It lived towards the end of the Cretaceous, about 75-71 million years ago, in what is now the Gobi Desert – which at the time was more of a semi-arid climate with both rivers and sand dunes.

Its 60cm long (~2') carapace had a long wide shape that made it appear rather flattened from the front, but not to quite as much an extreme as its larger American cousin Basilemys.

Several fairly well-preserved specimens have been found that appear to have been buried alive, probably either engulfed by sudden sandstorms or trapped in collapsing burrows. This has preserved some anatomical details previously unknown in nanhsiungchelyids, such as the pattern of scales on top of the head and the presence of large bony osteoderms on the underside of the front toes, which may have aided with traction on loose sandy ground.

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References:

Brinkman, Donald, and Jiang-Hua Peng. "A new species of Zangerlia (Testudines: Nanhsiungchelyidae) from the Upper Cretaceous redbeds at Bayan Mandahu, Inner Mongolia, and the relationships of the genus." Canadian Journal of Earth Sciences 33.4 (1996): 526-540. https://doi.org/10.1139/e96-041

Brinkman, Donald B., et al. "New exceptionally well-preserved specimens of “Zangerlia” neimongolensis from Bayan Mandahu, Inner Mongolia, and their taxonomic significance." Comptes Rendus Palevol 14.6-7 (2015): 577-587. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.crpv.2014.12.005

Jerzykiewicz, T., et al. "Djadokhta Formation correlative strata in Chinese Inner Mongolia: an overview of the stratigraphy, sedimentary geology, and paleontology and comparisons with the type locality in the pre-Altai Gobi." Canadian Journal of Earth Sciences 30.10 (1993): 2180-2195. https://doi.org/10.1139/e93-190

Tong, Haiyan, and Lu Li. "A revision of the holotype of Nanhsiungchelys wuchingensis, Ye, 1966 (Testudines: Cryptodira: Trionychoidae: Nanhsiungchelyidae)." Cretaceous Research 95 (2019): 151-163. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cretres.2018.11.003

Tong, Haiyan, et al. "New material of Jiangxichelys ganzhouensis Tong & Mo, 2010 (Testudines: Cryptodira: Nanhsiungchelyidae) and its phylogenetic and palaeogeographical implications." Geological Magazine 154.3 (2017): 456-464. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0016756816000108

Wikipedia contributors. “Nanhsiungchelyidae.” Wikipedia, 19 Nov. 2023, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nanhsiungchelyidae

#science illustration #paleontology #paleoart #palaeoblr #jiangxichelys #zangerlia #nanhsiungchelyidae #cryptodira #turtle #testudines #pantestudines #reptile #art #ancient mutant fossil turtles #turtle power