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baelpenrose · 3 months ago

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Nihilus Rex 33: Evasions and Reversals

This chapter has a couple things: first off, it was my chance to do something I have always wanted to do and play with the idea of secret identities from the villain end, especially when you can use conspiracy theory gaslighting as part of your cover. It also sets up an ongoing gag with Nils and Lash being...well, you'll see. CW for a very long chain of kink jokes.

Co written as always by the brilliant @canyouhearthelight I apologize for the late posting, I was very busy last night and didn't get to posting this.

No stone left uncovered

Out by the light of the moon

Hell will be coming soon

Yeah hell will be coming soon

Toby Lightman, “Long, Hard Day”

Nils

The local chatter was more and more frantic about an FBI agent with a whole lot of warrants showing up. Fortunately a bunch of the men had already been signaled to destroy their hard drives and utilize intelligent VPNs to prevent detection - thank God I’d thought ahead. Still, it was a stalling tactic, because that level of organization would make her take the problem more seriously, not less, meaning we’d eventually have a bigger problem on our hands with the Feds. I was eventually going to need to give her a patsy of some kind, and ideally find a way of convincing her it tied up cleanly.

Weasel, maybe.

No, for all that he was a pasty little bitch, I didn’t know that anyone would buy he was a…hm. Actually. Hang on, that was a thought. The key though, was that if he was alive when discovered he might roll over on me and Lash and that would be a problem. Dead, he couldn’t talk, and making sure he died first - ideally by suicide so that it looked like he’d aced himself when the jig was up - would be a trick.

Convincing her that there was in fact an angry incel who was furious that all the hot girls were going out with nonwhite guys because feminism had given them standards, or whatever, might do it, but that required that it be believable he’d orchestrated the attack - and maybe, maybe it was believable for him to have hacked the banks but not for him to have gotten other guys to go shoot the place. Unless he was using a fake….No, wait. I wasn’t going to let him be fake-me. Not even to get the fibbies off my trail. Instantly I saw another problem. If the Feds arrested anyone for this, there would be a percentage of the population I needed to win over that would see that person as the actual actor in the situation, meaning that I - or my more dramatic persona, Nihilus Rex - would lose credibility, which in turn killed my momentum.

Fuck.

I remembered, ruefully, when I thought any part of this would be simple.

I finally stood up from my desk, glancing at the clock and realized that I’d been setting up proxy networks and trying to figure my way out of this for the better part of four hours. I glanced at my phone, realized Bishop had texted, and called him back.

“Goddamnit, Creampuff, what’d I say about calling me?”

“Good morning to you too, Bishop.”

“It’s afternoon.”

“Good afternoon to you too, Bishop. What did you text me about?”

“Your psychopath.”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Check what he did on the boards.”

“Oh…” Resigning myself to a truly miserable day, I hung up and looked at whatever the hell Gray had gotten up to, and found, to my surprise, that it actually wasn’t…that bad? Or well, it was bad but in a useful way instead of the kind of bad that I was going to have to fix. There were now indicators of radicalization happening somewhere else, flaring up, using terminology that didn’t mirror ours.

“Ruckus in the east, war in the west…” I muttered. Could have done it a bit differently, but if the FBI was going to look one way or another…might as well split up their focus. Now, to see what we could do about starting a few more fires, since the stochastic terrorism on a few other fronts was getting just a little too obnoxious for my tastes. Or, at least a little too one-sided.

Westboro Baptist Church - famously homophobic, famously hateful to veterans and their families, famously hateful to gays, famously just awful. That was something to deal with - I put a pin in the idea of building a botnet for SWATTING a target.

Then I left the room, still trying to think of what I’d do with the FBI agent. Honestly, the Weasel thing was probably the best solution, I just had to make sure I knew a way of foreshadowing it to the crowd - maybe by proxy, ensuring everyone knew or memetically believed, that Nihilus Rex wasn’t an incel, thus when someone was arrested with connections (even fabricated ones) to that network, no one who I needed to win over or maintain credibility with would believe it.

The issue of course was that doing THAT required, frankly, sexualizing my persona more than I wanted to and in ways that did not appeal to me. Even more precisely, it required some ability to publicly link that persona with sexual…

Goddamnit.

Here I was trying to avoid going public before I was ready, but…wait. Another option was slithering its way through my mind already. A whole lot of people were already linking the “heroes of the hour” from as the potential badasses behind a whole lot more - but no one, definitely not the FBI, were considering that as anything more than rumor - and I was being excruciatingly careful to keep it that way, push the narrative that it was just a conspiracy in a way that made a lot of people convinced it was our cover story and would keep law enforcement away.

Meanwhile, we could…

Okay. Okay. Me and Lash could definitely afford to go out walking publicly, being obviously into each other, being visible, but maybe - crank up the obvious. Lean into some of the activist look. Make it less subtle what scenes we were playing in. Signal to those who were paying attention and slide under the radar for those who weren’t.

Then hand over Winston as a patsy and make sure he was dead by the time the FBI actually got him. That would work.

I picked up the phone and dialed Lash.

“Hey. There’s supposedly a party on campus in a few days. How do you feel about going with me?”

“Depends,” she answered, slightly distracted. “LAN party, college party, rave…?” Suddenly she whisper-shouted “Yes, it’s Nils. Yes, I’ll tell him you said hello. Yes, he’s eating.” A sound like a door closing abruptly clicked. “Mama says hello.”

“Your mom’s great.” I said, then paused. “It’s more of a college party than anything. And it’s a ‘work-opportunities' party. A ‘you-and-I-there-on-a-date-party,’ An ‘us being there publicly in this capacity is beneficial to our plans in ways we ought to discuss in person’ party.’”

“Sounds like a great idea. Just let me know when so I can have Fatima come by while I’m gone.”

“This Friday night. I only just got the invitation.” Please, love, get the hint that this idea just happened.

“That’s plenty of time,” she laughed. “I was worried it was in, like, an hour. Anyone I know going to be there?”

Yep, she got the message. “A few of our classmates from Econ, a bunch from Polisci. A bunch of the college webshow people, at a guess, which means we’re gonna wind up on camera again, given our status as local celebrities.” Signal, signal.

“I’ll be sure to have my face on, then.” She paused and hummed for a minute. “Sexy-demure, or straight up slutty? Probably demure, can’t look like I’m milking the spotlight.”

“Whatever makes you feel beautiful and powerful at the same time, Lash. We’re going for that look.” You know the one.

“Gotcha. Those boots kill my feet, but god do they look good. Gonna have to invest in something with flatter soles if you keep taking me out like this,” she teased.

“Fair enough. I’m excited for this. You’re gonna look amazing, whatever you’re in.” I said, grinning. I could imagine the smirk on her face as she talked. “Plus, we can go somewhere fun after, away from the cameras…”

Another click that sounded suspiciously like a door. “Don’t tempt me to wear a skirt with those boots. I know you’re going for a certain look, and there is nowhere near as much leather in my wardrobe as there is in yours. I will torture you all night if you keep it up.”

“That is very much the goal, and depending on what kind of torture you mean, I might be open to experiments…”

There was that laugh I loved hearing. “Let’s start with being obviously a couple, and work our way up to exhibitionism, okay?”

I blinked, wondering where my kinky implication had been misread. “That was not in fact…” Gift horses, Nils. “Never mind, you know what? Working our way up is totally good with me.”

“What time Friday?” she asked, pulling me back to the actual topic at hand.

“Starts at 8. The humanities building, apparently, though it’s likely to spill into the plaza.” I said, confidently. “Plenty of room.”

“Oooo, on campus. Super visible and public, you weren’t kidding.”

“Eyeah. We’re going public together.” With all that entails. “At the very least, I’m sure Weasel won’t be there.”

I could practically hear her shudder at that. “Gods, I hope not.”

“Oh, I think we can mellow on him just a little. We’ve finally found a use.” There was that little edge of amusement in my voice that indicated I was planning something.

“Sure….” She sounded suspicious, but it was somewhat understandable. It wasn’t like I had told her what I was planning, although I was pretty sure she would be on board. She’d practically suggested something similar previously, after all.

“How’s your dad doing?” I said, changing the topic. Better to leave the plans for later.

“Surprisingly cooperative. I think the one time he pushed himself too hard with the temporary prosthetic, he learned his lesson. He won’t be waltzing anytime soon, but I don’t think I ever saw him dance before, so….”

“Fair enough. And your mom? I should be coming over more often to visit and check in, I suppose.”

“For the love of all that you hold dear, don’t do that. They barely let Fatima take care of them, and that’s only because the girls distract them. If you came by, they would insist on being good hosts, and Mama is still not up to standing for the amount of time it takes to cook. Baba goes back to work soon, so he’ll probably be easier to deal with after that. They’re both just so bored.”

“Gotcha. Would they be more okay with it if I came over with food and then just sat and talked with them? I’d be open to doing that. Or if we both just sat and talked with them?”

“Maybe,” she confessed hesitantly. “But you would have to be very insistent that they let me get drinks, plates, all that. It’s okay to scold me into doing it, I know you don’t mean it and it will make them more likely to listen so I don’t quote ‘anger you’ end quote.”

“Okay nope.” I said, feeling a flash of exasperation. “Yeah, okay, Lash. At some point we’re gonna talk about the gendered courtship expectations within your culture and the willingness I have to play along with them, because doing anything to avoid ‘angering me’ or scolding you into doing domestic stuff isn’t really my thing -”

“Calm down,” she interrupted, laughing. “I mean ‘anger you’ as in ‘dumping me or maybe we have a disagreement’. Nothing more than that. It will literally just guilt trip them into actually just sitting and visiting. I didn’t mean anything beyond that. And I only suggested it because do you know where the glasses are in my apartment? The plates?”

“Oh.” I felt stupid. “Ah. Okay yeah that makes more sense.” Not that the pressure to marry on her, and the weird approval process I’d undergone hadn’t given me ample reason to suspect that gender roles were at least a little bit cracked there, but now was not the time. When we ruled the world though, we were going to abolish courtship by democracy.

“How does Sunday sound? Go to the party Friday night, recovery Saturday, and then you can stop by with dinner on Sunday?”

“Sounds amazing.” Gave me plenty of time to start laying groundwork, then on Saturday, I’d start getting shit actually rolling. Then Sunday, spend the day with my gorgeous girlfriend and her family, mop up the next week.

“Awesome. Meet you on campus Friday, 7:30ish so we can scope out everything before it kicks off?”

“Sounds perfect. Love you.”

“Love you, too… MAMA! Don’t you dare - “

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #Nihilus Rex #traumatized characters #Afterverse #Miys Prequel #Arcadian Inquisition Prequel #my writing #Friend's writing #cyberpunk dystopia #modern dystopia

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freshthoughts2020 · 1 year ago

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They Moving Different FrFr

April 24, 2023

You don’t have to be a fan of sports to know that women’s sports doesn’t receive as much respect and admiration as men’s sports. However, a step in the right direction started happening during the 2023 Women’s NCAA Basketball tournament. It starts with Caitlin Clark, the 6foot guard from Iowa, who is on the court making threes all the way from Mumbai. Her high velocity play via her vicious 3 pointer started putting eyes on the women’s tourney.

Many people in media started giving the public heads up that it was time to start tuning into the women’s tourney because they’re turning up. So when it time to get to the finals the spotlight grows bigger as people created a “Bird vs Magic” scenario with the predominately white team Iowa, facing off against the predominately black team the LSU Tigers. The finals then gave birth to the beginning of new era fueled by the passionate and beautiful forward, Angel Reese and the multi-talented Flau’Jae Johnson.

The finals show off turned out to be the biggest college sports event of the year even outperforming the men’s tournament. The 2023 viewership brought in a whopping 9.9 million viewers. With LSU bringing home the trophy along with some controversy a star was birthed and we are witnessing someone who is using their new found fame to its full advantage.

youtube

Angel Reese is a breathe of fresh air for women sports because she maintains her femininity while being an actual great player.

Making her extremely marketable, combined with the power of youth, she’s an unstoppable force as long as she keeps up an elite level of play. She currently has one of the highest NIL deal of any college athlete which as of today is at $1.3 million and increasing. Her partner in crime, Flau’Jae is also taking advantage of her platform by still pursuing her passion of music and going viral with freestyles every chance she get.

The pair even made their way to legendary morning show The Breakfast Club, where Reese reveals her achievement has even caught the attention of the likes of Drizzy and Future, both congratulating her on her dominance.

youtube

I really like the way their moving because the bigger they get the bigger women’s sports and opportunities get. Next LSU games are probably going to look like LA games and if they continue to rise to the occasion, which is elite play winning chips every year is not required, they can make WNBA games a star studded event as well.

These girls are making all the right moves and its a joy to see women players thrive in their space.

youtube

Update: by the time I actually wrote this article, Latto & Cardi B released a video “Put it on da Floor Again” featuring a cameo from Angel Reese further cementing her star power.

The best part of this, the young ladies are handling their stardom well by staying in the gym and maintaing a perfect balance between hoops and socializing. They both even got selected to participate for USA women’s team, after not getting selected previous years which shows the hard work never stopped. In fact its just getting started and the ladies are showing us how they will continue to move different and take women basketball to new spaces.

Follow me on twitter @onlyonejaevonn

visit gettothecorner.com

#the breakfast club #lsu tigers #lsu #angel reese #life lessons #life logs

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fantasyinvader · 5 months ago

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There's just something to Blazing Blade (replaying it since I finally got the Switch Online Expansion Pass) that just fascinates me, and I think a lot of it has to do with it being a prequel. Because it's a prequel, no matter what happens it's going to lead to the events of Binding Blade. It's going to lead to Bern trying to conquer the entire continent of Elibe because it's leader falls into misanthropy hard, with the secret purpose of wiping humanity out because mankind is just that awful in Zeph's eyes. This, and all the destruction that happens, is set in stone for Blazing Blade. And while Binding Blade can end up with a really optimistic ending if the player goes for the best one, that still sets a dark shadow over a story that is meant to lead into it.

In Blazing Blade, you can't stop the bigger war from happening and a LOT of your characters will be doomed to die by canon. They aren't going to have a happily ever after. There is no stopping that. You even save Zephiel from an assassination attempt, the guy who would start the war, and while there's hope things will work out at the end… it doesn't. Worse is the implication that in your attempts to stop the Black Fang, you set these events in motion. Eliwood's wife is going to die young regardless of who it is. Canus, Lucius, Nino, Karla, Rath and more are in similar boats and we see Hector himself die while Eliwood is too sick to fight.

Compare this to what happened with Gaiden, characters can have bad endings if particular units they have relations with are killed in battle. But here, nothing you do will stop this.

So Blazing Blade doesn't try to hide it. There's call forwards to the approaching tragedy, some pairings lead to worse results. Nils leaves, either with his sister or alone with the knowledge she doesn't have that long to live. Hell, if you play the game well enough you cause another war between nations looking to hire you. And, of course, unlocking the legendary weapons releases Jahn. Even if it was to save the world, your actions will feed into a bigger conflict. Like in Binding Blade, you also can't recruit everyone either as they are locked to various route splits or who your main lord is.

The game is hella bittersweet, borderline tragic… and I think that's why I love it so much.

Can't really explain it other than it makes things more weighty and grounded, which gives the game a more anti-war feel. Not just that fighting is bad, but that fighting leads to more fighting and the good guys winning isn't enough to stop that because actions have consequences. Nino reforming isn't going to stop something like people seeking revenge on her for being a member of the Black Fang. Even the villain Nergal ultimately had very human motivations before being consumed by his power. Something about this all though just hits me in the feels, making the game one I couldn't forget since it's original release.

Plus, now I'm sure the Runeblades are meant to be a shout-out to the Elric Saga considering they gave Lloyd Elric's White Wolf moniker.

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goodolreliablejake · 1 year ago

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So I'm about 1/2-2/3rs of the way through Axiom's End, and I wanna unpack my thoughts on Nils Ortega and information access.

Nils's catchphrase is "Truth is a Human Right," but his actions don't totally align with that worldview. He makes a point of how it's not enough to share a government leak, but that he has to share it at just the right moment, even if it means sitting on the info for years. For someone whose raison d'etre is exposing how the government withholds information from the public, a major part of his MO is withholding information from the public.

This is a strategic move on his part, but one that comes at the cost of weakening his philosophical position. Perhaps he believes that creating a bigger impact and exposing corruption is more important than always making information readily available, but in so doing he concedes that there are circumstances in which it is morally justifiable to withhold information from the public.

Thematically, this might be a legitimate point; after all, there's a huge difference between information in the hands of a private individual and a government's responsibility to be transparent in their operations. But on a personal level, a character level, it complicates his legacy. This isn't just about high minded ideals or doing what's right, it's also about Nils's career and ego and "winning." Is he a glory hound or crusader or is he both?

That said, I am still pretty early on, and right now he's just haunting the narrative from the background and hasn't appeared "on-screen," so maybe this all gets more definitively answered later on. But needless to say, I'm enjoying the book.

#Axiom's end #lindsay ellis #Nils Ortega

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female-buckets · 1 year ago

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OBVIOUSLY I’m not saying it was easier as a female athlete back in Sheryl Swoopes’ days. Like the WNBA didn’t exist, the conditions were obviously much harder. You’re right that those players have a mental fortitude players now luckily don’t have to have. But I am purely talking the game of basketball. If you watch Swoopes’ championship game, and then you watch the games being played now, everything is more advanced - pace, skill set, physicality, etc. if players now aren’t breaking Caitlin like a twig, I don’t think it would happen if you plopped her back in 1993. That’s no disrespect at all to all of the legends of the day, just acknowledging that players now are just better so it’s harder to win

And nobody is saying Caitlin is a better player for going to Iowa. In fact, everyone is saying the opposite. She’s breaking NCAA records, not just Iowa records, and still everyone says it’s just because she’s a volume shooter. As if she’s the first good player on a mediocre team. If anyone is at a disadvantage it’s her, not the blue bloods players. Paige has gotten the media attention since freshman year because she goes to UConn, and even when she’s been injured ESPN has kept her top of everyone’s minds.

You are really just saying whatever you want to hype up Caitlin as a basketball Messiah. And I can't take you seriously because you think NIL girls have a harder time winning.

You must be confused if you think NIL girls are more physical than 1990s players 🤭😂

Why do you think the pace was slower in the 1990s and 2000s? Do you think women just didn't know how to run back then? Oh, they knew how to run. So why weren't they running? Well, try taking 10 consecutive elbows to the gut and show me how fast you run. Try sprinting down the court after getting kneed in the groin. Getting tackled to the floor every possession is exhausting.

There was nothing easy about playing 1990s/2000s basketball. The more awards you won, the bigger your spotlight, the more they'd beat you up. That's the environment that Sheryl Swoopes, Chamique Holdsclaw, and Diana Taurasi played college basketball in. And that's the environment that would break Caitlin Clark. I don't see anyone in the NCAA right now who can actually grind out games like that. The last player like that in college basketball was Alyssa Thomas.

I like the fast-paced gentler style of basketball better. It's healthier this way. But it is without a doubt easier in every way to win fast-paced gentle games.

#wnba #caitlin clark #ncaa wbb #wcbb #iowa hawkeyes

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ianmhill · 7 months ago

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6.5

Oh my. 90-0. Yes, you read that right, Gloucester lost away at Northampton 90-0. Ninety to Nil. Easily the worst score-line I can recall in the Premiership, never mind for Gloucester. I know a few games have been a tad one-sided, but this was ridiculous. The TV coverage I had didn't start showing the score/time bar until about 60 minutes into the game, by which time I had lost count of the number of tries and the actual score. Yes, Gloucester put out an, at best, second string side for the most part but Saints were immeasurably better for the whole game. Obviously. When Gloucester had the ball they did nothing, apart from cough up possession. They even missed a penalty from in front of the posts (more or less) which might have saved them being nilled. Not that 90-3 would have been anything to write home about.

Old Glory on the other hand, to my surprise, won the game in Chicago, 22-21. Most of their points came from penalties, but I'll take the win, especially away from home. And the scoreline was only that close because the Hounds scored a consolation try in the last minute of the game. Though as Chicago had three yellow cards during the game, we might have expected a bigger margin. Mind you, OG had one yellow early on too.

But the real story is watching the game. As my wife was away in Florida, I thought I would go and watch the game with other fans in the "official" watch party bar, Taffer's Tavern. As suggested by the weekly email, I arrived early (half an hour before kick-off) so I could get a seat and order food before the game started. No-one else was there when I arrived. On this occasion at least the hostess team kinda knew there was a game on, but had not set aside an area for OG fans. And they asked me how many people would be turning up! How would I know!?

After 20 minutes I gave up. No-one else had arrived, not even the OG marketing team so I had to leave to make sure I could race home on the bike to catch the game. Literally, these people couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery. Or a bar. Mostly on the basis of this, I couldn't be bothered to go to an evening with the Coaches on Thursday evening. Though it was also partly because The Boy was going to be there in an official capacity also.

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eurovision-revisited · 2 years ago

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Dublin 1994

Ireland win again - and this time they've decided to spend some money! Off to the big city, with all it's attractions (and accommodation). Welcome to Dublin 1994. Eurovision was held at the Point Theatre, home of the Irish national final Eurosong when held in Dublin. This year they went to Limerick instead just for a change.

This is the first year that saw some countries relegated and thus not taking part - last years bottom six didn't head to Dublin, and neither did Italy who decided not to take part. In their place came a whole slew of new countries. This was the first year for Estonia, Hungary, Lithuania, Poland, Romania, Russia and Slovakia. This meant lots of new national new finals and styles of music. It also meant that any country could be relegated this year. Nil points was now an even bigger threat.

This also the first year when we got to see the spokespeople giving the votes during the scoring phase. Instead of phone calls, there were live satellite links meaning the end of the evening involved a trip all around, from Lisbon to Moscow.

The stage was a wide open expanse designed to look like a city-scape, but almost looked like an airport runaway at night. After the brightness of the Millstreet steel, this brought a dark backdrop and a huge flat stage with concealment which allowed Riverdance to truly up the ante for every single interval act afterwards. The hosts were Cynthia Ní Mhurchú and Gerry Ryan.

#esc #esc 1994 #eurovision #eurovision song contest #dublin #dublin 1994 #ireland

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carmennivis · 5 months ago

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It was a tough battle, but they seemed to be equally matched. Sakura and Yuri’s swift and many strikes compared to that of the false brawler. False Jubilation, a dance beautiful yet devoid of life, gave strength to her allies just like Nils did. The False Knight, a juggernaut in thick armor comparable to Leif, who managed to take plenty of hits of his own. But they still had all 4 standing while the fakers were down to 3. As long as he held faith in his allies, he believed they could win.

At that moment, the false brawlers attention seemed to have shifted to Nils, wielding gauntlets specifically meant to shred through dragon scales. Perhaps choosing not to transform was an even bigger blessing than expected. Still, his movement and strikes were swift, too fast for the bard to avoid.

Roaming Instigator 4.5/10HP hits and hits Nils 10/10HP with Dragon Claws [Roll: 14, 3; -1.5, -1.5, Nils 7/10HP]

One strike against his stomach, the other against his cheek, they felt like battering rams against his pale skin. But Nils was prepared and stood his ground. He was just as swift as his opponent, and the huge arc of the brawler’s second strike left him wide open for a counter attack.

Nils 7/10HP counters with Candlelight [Roll: 20 - 11 = 9; -1, Roaming Instigator 3.5/10HP]

“Everyone, look away!” He warned his allies. Channeling a huge amount of power into the candle staff, the energy flow was so strong he had to hold on with both hands, before he unleashed it. From the flame burning on the tip of his staff came a huge flash, a dazzling gleam that left everyone on the opposing side dizzy. The brawler, being so close, even took a small amount of damage from the flash.

Obsidian, Barrier Blade Dancer, and Roaming Instigator are all inflicted with Bind! They are unable to attack at range until the end of the following phase!

The three morph-like creatures were all stunned and dazzled, their vision severely hampered from the bright light. They had no choice but to attack only up close for a while, as anything at a distance was blurry and covered up by speckles of white in their vision.

“They’re disoriented! Lady Sakura, Lord Leif, Lord Yuri, this is our chance!” He called out to his allies, hoping for them to take this opportunity to strike. “I’ll support you all with everything I’ve got, so come to me right away if you’re hurt!”

To that end, he raised his staff once more. It emitted a healing wave, restoring a little bit of health for all his allies.

all eyes on Leif, but worry not, we're here for you!

⤷ summer arena 2024: team fifteen ( gold round )

#(support: let’s liven things up!)#toaarena2024summer #diadic #gentlenekomata #aubins #thread: all eyes on leif but worry not we’re here for you!

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seokmatthewz · 2 years ago

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sobbing wailing crying wheezing weeping

#im so EXCITED #i canr believe it im gonna cry #this is the best day of my life #4 years of ulting at last i get to see my some guys 💗💓💗💞💗💞💗💞💖💞💗💞💗💓💗💞💗💞💗💞#AND WITH NIL AN EVEN BIGGER WIN #iri.txt

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oreosmilkshakes · 3 years ago

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Animals

Summary: Not everything is as it seems. Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x GN!Reader Word Count: 8,915 Warnings: Details of torture/gore, canon character death, slight details of sexual stuff, mention of drug usage and yandere. (+18)

A/N: Woo! New fic! This is something new I have done and honestly, I am quite proud of this one. Heed the warnings! This is set during Seb’s RBR years.

Taglist: NIL

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Finishing P1 in Australia should have made Sebastian happy. He was in the media pen, an umbrella overhead to shield the driver from the scorching Australian sun. After Petrov, it was his turn to be interviewed but Petrov seemed to have a lot to say for he was P3 in the race. In the meantime, with his bottle in hand, he had his focus solely on one person and one person only. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed another gulp of water, bright blue eyes fixated on a figure just a few metres short from where he stood. Said figure had a big smile on their face, one Sebastian grew to appreciate and love dearly. His heart swelled, swearing he felt his breath hitched as that smile grew bigger by the second. Were they smiling at him? Sebastian could not see among the sea of photographers snapping pictures of him and the other drivers.

As if a miracle came, the sea parted. Sebastian’s happy exterior fell, the smile everyone grew to love was now in a deep frown. Even his eyes darken. Jenson Button had an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, laughing along with what they were talking about. Sebastian brought the bottle down, his fingers squeezing the metal until his knuckles turned white. How dare they! How dare Jenson! Putting his arm around his Y/N! His sweet Y/N was further tainted with the Brit’s touch and Sebastian hated every second of it. The longer he looked, the angrier he got. Thankfully, Britta was there to pull Sebastian out of his staring.

She had a hand on his arm. “Seb? It’s your turn,”

Sebastian jolted a little from the touch, glancing down at the hand on his arm. He bit back an unhappy noise, turning to face the interview.

“A fantastic start for you, Sebastian, the reigning champion. Tell us, how did this win feel?” Sebastian smiled. “Well, it felt really good. I mean, we’ve good points into the championship so it’s a good start,”

“Yes, I think the fans and I agree here. You can hear the fans cheering for you,” The interview commented.

“I’m really glad to see the fans again, especially my fans. The fans are one of my sources of pushing hard for each race and, uh, yeah, good start to the season,”

The interviewer smiled. “Well, thank you Sebastian,” The interviewer moved on to the next driver.

Sebastian eagerly turned back to see if Y/N was still in their spot but to his disappointment, they were not there.

Soon enough, he will get to see them again.

--------------------------------------------

“Congratulations, Seb. That’s another P1 under the belt. Good job,”

“Yes! Yes! Good job, boys! Feels good to win again!” Sebastian had one hand on the wheel and another holding a ‘number one’ finger up, going around the circuit before entering pit for Parc Ferme. Turning off the car and disengaging the steering wheel, he pushed himself up and out of the car. He turned to see the cars lined up, finding Jenson behind him. He froze, frowning under his helmet as the Brit removed his gloves and approached Sebastian. “Hey! Well done, mate!” Jenson exclaimed, sending a pat to Sebastian’s shoulder. The German fought the urge to squirm. “Thanks, you too,” He forced out, making his way up to the podium stand. The crowd of teams had gathered below. Sebastian walked out to the podium, raising up the trophy as soon as it was handed to him. Red Bull cheered loudly for him but Sebastian ignored them. He was focused on finding his Y/N. “Wooo! Jenson!” Y/N screamed, hands cupped around their mouth to extend their voice. Sebastian’s head snapped to the prominent scream, jaw tight as he stared at Y/N. They had that gorgeous smile on their face again. He had to try and muster up the courage to talk to Y/N but he could not. He was a coward.

Too many doubts entered his tainted mind.

What if they didn’t like me? What if they don’t love me the way I love them? If Y/N don’t love me the same way, I will kill myself

Sebastian gripped the trophy. He refused to let that side of him show. He was going to get that courage to talk to Y/N. It would be even better if he was close to them. Perhaps he should give them something. Sebastian grinned, knowing just the item to get for his love. There were plenty of malls in Sepang to explore. One fine day, Sebastian had overheard Y/N talking to others that they were looking to get a new pair of casual shoes, no matter the brand. Keeping that gift idea in mind, he was going to purchase the best and only the best shoes for his love.

A knock came to Y/N’s hotel room door. They raised an eyebrow.

“Who is it?” They called out.

“It is the hotel manager, Mx Y/L/N. There is an item here for you,” Y/N furrowed their brows. They did not receive any notification pertaining to this. Getting off their bed, they made their way to the door, opening it. The manager smiled, a large black paper bag in hand. “I was told this was a gift for you, Mx Y/L/N. However, there was no name indicated to the sender,”

Y/N swallowed, eyeing the box wearily. They nodded, taking the bag in hand. “Thank you,” The manager smiled and left, leaving Y/N alone with the mysterious box.

“I swear, Jenson, if this is a prank..,” They mumbled, shutting the door with a foot and made their way to the bed. Setting the bag on the bed, they dug a hand into its content, feeling a large rectangular box. They pulled it out a large box, brows furrowed in confusion. An anonymous gift and a large box? Their suspicions and worries grew. They placed a finger under the lid, lifting the top of the box off and to their surprise, it was actually a gift and one that they always wanted. A pair of Air Jordan III that were a combined colour of black, grey and white with tinges of orange. They picked up the shoe, examining it closely. The size was perfect too! There was a note too. They picked up the small note, flipping it back.

‘Please accept this gift as a token of appreciation’ was all that was written on the little note. The handwriting was gorgeous, assuming it was from Jenson. They had to thank him in the next race.

Sebastian set down the pair of binoculars, licking his lips. His lips spread into a grin, his heart was racing at the sight of Y/N’s elated expression. He could not wait to see Y/N again in China.

--------------------------------------------

It was finally Free Practice 1 in China and the paddock was bustling with crews from different teams. Sebastian was on his way to his motorhome with Britta and Antti by his side when he spotted his love with Jenson in the distance by the Mclaren motorhome. He slowed his steps, passing by Massa.

“Hey, Felipe,” Sebastian called out.

“Vettel! Come,” Felipe smiled, calling the young man over to have a convenient conversation with him. Instead of listening to what Felipe was talking about, Sebastian peered in to listen to his love and Jenson.

Y/N smiled widely, Jenson raised an eyebrow with a smile.

“What are you smiling for, love?”

They looked down, Jenson followed.

“Thank you for the new shoes, Jen,”

“I didn’t-,” They interrupted Jenson with a friendly kiss to the cheek.

“I really love it, Jen! It’s gorgeous,” Jenson, with reddened cheeks, scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “You’re welcome, I guess?” He mumbled the last part.

Sebastian was furious. A fucking kiss?! Sebastian growled in anger, storming off.

“Hey Seb-,” A shocked Felipe called out but the young Red Bull driver was already far away.

In his motorhome, Sebastian yelled in frustration, sending a fist to the wall. “Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Wie kann er es wagen! Ich werde ihn verdammt noch mal umbringen,” (Translation: How dare he! I will fucking kill him). Sebastian slid his reddened hand down the wall, heart racing and adrenaline filled. He was going to get back at Jenson. For everything that he has done. Touching his Y/N, talking to his Y/N. Even breathing near his Y/N. A dark grin spread across his lips, mind forming ways of getting rid of Jenson. Soon enough, he will get what he always wanted: Y/N.

For the next two days, Sebastian had to suffer with this immense anger in him. All he could think about was Y/N and winning the Chinese Grand Prix. When he did, he was satisfied with the placement Jenson had attained, a mere P4. To others, it may be good. But to Sebastian, it was enough to take the Brit down.

Back at the hotel, Sebastian had just returned from a night out of drinking with his Red Bull crew. With his phone in hand and full concentration, he accidentally bumped into someone. He dropped his phone from the impact. “Shit,” He hissed, turning to the other. “Watch-,” “I am so sorry, Mr Vettel!” Y/N gasped, turning to the reigning champion. “Oh my god, Mr Vettel. I’m sorry, I should have watched where I was walking,” Y/N’s cheeks were red from embarrassment, leaning down to pick up Sebastian’s phone. Sebastian was stunned. Was this a dream? He was so close to his love. He could smell the ambrosial scent coming from them.

“Mr Vettel?”

Sebastian snapped out of his trance, looking down at his phone in their hands. He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t looking either,” They chuckled, shyly looking up at Sebastian.

“Congratulations on P2, Mr Vettel,�� “Please, it’s Sebastian. Or Seb, whichever you prefer. Mr Vettel is my dad,”

They laughed, nodding. Sebastian swore he felt his breath hitched at the sound. He moved a hand to rest on Y/N’s shoulder. “Thank you, Y/N. And nice shoes. Very stylish,” “Oh, thank you. Jenson gave it to me,” “Did he now? That’s very nice of him,”

Y/N cleared their throat. “I better get going…Jenson is waiting for me,”

Sebastian saw red. “Oh, of course. Don’t want to keep him waiting,”

“I’ll see you, Sebastian! Enjoy your night” With a sweet smile and a wave, Y/N left the hotel premises.

Sebastian held up the keycard to Y/N’s room, a smirk on his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to enjoy it very, very much,” He chuckled darkly, taking the lift up to Y/N’s floor. Approaching the door, he tapped the card against the reader. Sebastian inhaled deeply. He felt dizzy just taking in his love’s scent. He had to pick something out for his shrine. Over the years, he has collected several items ranging from clothes, jewellery and even hair. Sebastian smiled to himself, brushing his fingers against the bedsheets. The luggage bag was laid open on the floor. Sebastian got excited, kneeling down to rummage through the heap of clothes. Most of it were team uniforms until he picked up an undershirt. He brought the white fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Sebastian moaned, gripping hard on the poor fabric. He stuffed it in his jacket pocket, looking around. He stopped on the bedside table, a familiar looking bracelet laid by the lamp. Sebastian got up, approaching the side table. He picked up the bracelet, examining it closely. That was when he was reminded.

Winter break, 2008

The season was over. The year was ending. Sebastian’s obsessions were insatiable. The young driver was in Australia, trailing Y/N’s every step in the shadows. Y/N had visited Australia for the winter break and they were with some friends Sebastian recognised. Night falls and Y/N was out with friends having some drinks with them.

“You guys head back to the hotel first. I’m going to the pharmacy,”

“Alright. Be careful,” Sofia, one of Y/N’s friends, warned.

Y/N smiled. “I will,” The three friends left Y/N behind. They got their phone out, dropping a reply to one of their texts when a pair of hands pulled them back harshly against the wall. A glint of metal shone under their neck, Y/N froze. “Lookin’ pretty fancy there,” The mugger grinned, pressing the blade hard against Y/N’s neck. They whimpered, pressing their back against the brick wall uncomfortably.

“What-What do you want?” “Pretty bracelet. Looks expensive too,”

Y/N shakily removed the bracelet, placing it on the mugger’s palm. “ ‘preciate it,” He sent a punch to Y/N’s abdomen, they hunched over from the impact. The mugger took off running with the bracelet, Y/N had tears in their eyes.

Sebastian saw red. Under the hood of his hoodie, he saw red. His fist was clenched, jaw tight as he felt an uncontrollable rage burn within him. He lifted his head, watching as Y/N wiped their eyes and quickly headed back to the hotel. His beloved was hurt, robbed of their precious bracelet. Sebastian was not going to let this slide easily. He was going to get to work.

Comforted by their friends, reporting the incident to the police, Y/N learnt that this mugger was well known around these parts and the police had been looking for him for months now. At this rate, Y/N was sure they were never going to get their bracelet back. That bracelet was given to them by their late grandmother, a dying gift before she passed. It was an item they had since young and now, it was in the hands of a cruel lowlife mugger. All Y/N had to do was wait and pray there was good news.

The next day was an entire day spent in the hotel. Everything went calm and well until Chris switched on the television. His eyes widened.

“Uh..Y/N? I think you might want to see this,”

“Local mugger found murdered in canal at 2.12am last night. Henry Jones was found with multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and neck. Police reported that there was little to no evidence as to who had caused this..” The newscaster reported.

“This is the same man who robbed you, right, Y/N?” Y/N swallowed, frozen in their spot.

“Y/N?” Sofia called out. They jumped a little. “Huh? Oh, yeah..yeah..It’s him,” Y/N felt extreme relief that this issue had been dealt with. The only problem was now their bracelet.

Y/N went down to the police station the next day, inquiring about the items found among the Brown’s possessions.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mx Y/L/N. We’ve searched the home clean, every crook and cranny and there was no bracelet,” The officer spoke. Y/N’s heart shattered. They swallowed. “Are you sure?”

The officer nodded

Y/N could only shed tears out the second they got back to the hotel.

Leaving Australia had been hard. Y/N headed back to Belgium with a heavy heart. They dragged their luggage through their apartment door. The luggage was laid on the floor, shoes placed on the rack nicely. Y/N huffed, laying on their bed with a louder sigh. “Damn it,” Y/N stood up, approaching their work table. They rubbed their wrist subconsciously, defeated. They pushed past the papers strewn across the Mahogany table, stopping as they felt a hard item beneath some papers. Pushing it aside, their eyes widened, gasping in shock. Y/N picked up the item, their bracelet! It came along with an envelope. Y/N furrowed their brows. A note? Setting the bracelet down, they tore open the envelope. Inside was a small note.

I got this back for you, my dear Y/N. He got what he deserved. No one can hurt you but me. Dearest, your one true love.

Y/N dropped the letter on the table, swallowing. ‘Who was insane enough to do this?’ They thought. They looked out the window, moving to the curtains. Looking at the opposite building, they could not help but feel that there was someone watching them. They shuddered in fear, pulling the curtains shut.

Sebastian chuckled to himself, getting off the side of the roof. He was satisfied with what he had done. The fear stricken look was enough to send shivers of ecstasy crawling down his spine. Y/N was his and there was no changing that.

--------------------------------------------

“And Sebastian Vettel wins the Turkish Grand Prix! What a fantastic drive from the young German!”

Despite that, the Mclaren garage burst into celebration. Their boys had scored some good points even if Lewis and Jenson had clinched P4 and P6 respectively. Y/N smiled, applauding along with the team as the cars pulled up in Parc Ferme. They were happy with Sebastian’s win. Y/N appreciated how hard working Sebastian pushed for each race. The man was still so young, in his prime and it reminded them of Jenson’s 2009 win. Then again, Y/N was not much older then Sebastian was and they admired his achievements.

Sebastian had a towel in hand, wiping away his sweat. He approached the Red Bull garage, eyeing the group of Mclaren mechanics in the distance. He scanned the crowd, spotting Y/N among the sea of people. They turned their head, looking in Sebastian’s direction with a wide smile. Sebastian froze.

‘They are looking at me,’ He thought, swallowing.

Y/N jogged up to Sebastian, stopping short of the man.

“Hi Britta! Hello, Mr Vet- I mean, Sebastian. Congratulations on the win, Sebastian,” They held a hand out, that sickeningly sweet smile gracing their lips. Sebastian looked down at the offered hand, his finger twitched. With shaking hands, he took it. Internally, Sebastian had alarms going off in his mind.

‘Mine, mine, mine, mine,’ The words repeated. Y/N pulled their hand away first, giving Sebastian one last smile before leaving for Jenson. Britta waved, unaware of Sebastian’s nature.

‘They touched my hand..So soft, as expected..’ He looked at his hand, the soft touch lingered on his calloused palm. Sebastian needed to see Y/N again. He wanted to see them again. Excitement grew in his chest. Tonight will be a good night indeed.

Sebastian thought everything was going so well and just as he planned. At this rate, he would be getting his Y/N by the end of the season. He was not going to let any obstacle get in his way. He was not going to let Jenson get in the way.

“Great job, Sebastian! Absolutely great job,” Came on the radio.

“Woohoo! Yabba dabba doo!” Sebastian cheered, going around the track and pulled up in the pit. Another win under his belt for the Spanish Grand Prix.

Sebastian handed the trophy to Britta, removing his cap to mess up his damp hair. Leaving the garage for the motorhome, he took a stroll around the back road to cool off the remaining adrenaline left. It was another win for Sebastian and another loss for Jenson.

“Jenson, hey, it’s okay, P6 is a well deserved position,”

“Yeah but I really struggled, Y/N. I struggled to keep that position,”

“Shh, it’s over. The mechanics will get down to the car and find out the issue, okay?” Y/N moved to dab a towel over Jenson’s forehead.

Sebastian furrowed his brows, overhearing the conversation by the side of the trailer for privacy. Too private, in Sebastian’s opinion. He peeked around the side and his fury sprang to life once more.

Jenson rested his hands on Y/N’s waist, he shared a laugh with the other. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, eyes locked with one another. Jenson leaned in close and closer.

Rage overtook Sebastian. He sent a hard punch to the metal of the trailer, the impact split the skin of his knuckles. The sound was loud and resonated throughout the back.

Y/N jumped in shock, pulling away from the Brit. They jogged to see the commotion but as they got there, nothing.

“What happened?” Jenson appeared behind Y/N, looking over their head to find the source of the loud sound.

“I..don’t know,” They shook their head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” They mumbled, leaving Jenson behind. Y/N was angry at themself. How could they be so stupid? Jenson was their boss and on the first day of their job, they made a promise to themself never to have a relationship with anyone at work. They almost broke it and they were utterly upset at that. Y/N needed some time off to themself, taking the earliest flight to Belgium the next day.

As for Sebastian, he was back in his home in Switzerland. The lights of his basement were dim. He held up a sharp blade, the metal glinting under the low light. He turned from the table to his poor victim strapped on a chair.

“You know..I always thought a ‘happy ever after’ ending was something I will get,” Sebastian pulled a chair, sitting down. “But then I realised that none of this is a fairytale,” He chuckled.

“I mean, this isn’t Disney or some children’s book from the library,” He stroked the blade against the thigh of his victim. She whimpered behind the gag, shaking her head with tears stained cheeks on her delicate face. Sebastian leaned over, pulling over a trolley of toys. He set the blade down, picking up a small plier. He took her hand, brushing over the nails. “If I can’t have that happiness, I think the whole world shouldn’t deserve it, don’t you think?” He pinched the plier between a nail, ripping it off. The woman screamed, it drowned behind the thick fabric around her mouth. Blood dripped from the wound, more tears flowed. One by one, each fingernail. His victim had passed out from the pain, a smirk on Sebastian’s lips.

“Oh, I am going to do so much worse to you..Sofia..,”

And he kept his promise. A lone well deep in the surrounding woods, a well drained of its water and replaced with blood. Sebastian threw the bag of nails down the deep well, laughing to himself. Sofia, Chris, Mei Li, Alex, Summer. Bodies of Y/N’s friends, souls trapped in a dark, endless well, lost and forgotten.

--------------------------------------------

Jenson threw his gloves to the table, frustrated with the outcome of his race. A DNF for Silverstone. What was worse was that Great Britain was his home race. He was forced to retire after a cock-up during his pit. The pit pace was fantastic, it was fast as expected. All was well until he realised a big mistake was made. His front right tyre was not fastened as he had hastily left the pit in an attempt to give chase to the finishing line. Apologies went around Jenson’s garage and a quick word of motivation was given by Martin Whitmarsh to up the team’s spirit.

The Brit sighed, fastening the headphones to watch the remaining of the race with his team. He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to face the kind smile of his closest friend. “Chin up, Jen. We’ll get that win in the next race,” Jenson grinned, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Thanks, love,”

The Mclaren team cheered as Lewis passed the finishing line for the position of P4. A solid good job in earning points for the team despite Jenson’s retirement.

After the race, journalists wanted a word with Jenson about the bizarre incident.

“It’s really disappointing,” Jenson admitted, a defeated expression on his face. “I really believe we could have beaten the Red Bulls today. Early on, things were looking sweet. I definitely could have beaten Webber,” “Well, Jenson, could you please share into detail about the incident?” Jenson inhaled deeply, his shoulders sagged. “The front guy lost the wheel nut and when he turned to take another, his hand moved and the front jack man thought it was the message to go. The lollipop man works off him and I was sent on my way before we realised it was happening,” Jenson paused, glancing at Y/N.

“It’s a mistake, you know? These things happen in the heat and battle and we’ve just gotta make sure they don’t happen very often. We all make mistakes. The guys have already come and said sorry for what they did. And I, uh, I want to say sorry to all the fans who were cheering us on. We wanted to give them something better,” Jenson nodded.

“Thank you for that, Jenson,” The journalist nodded, moving on to Sergio Perez.

From the corner of Sebastian’s eye, he watched as Jenson walked away with Y/N. Oh, if only he knew who sabotaged him.

Sebastian 4: Jenson 0

After Silverstone, it was Germany and Sebastian was very much looking forward to the race. It felt really good to be back home and he wanted to take some time off after the three practices to spend some time with Y/N.

As he left the hotel, once again, he bumped into another’s shoulder. “Oh,” Y/N jolted, looking at Sebastian. They smiled. “Hi! I’m sorry again. I can be very clumsy sometimes,” They sighed, shaking their head at their meeting.

Sebastian grinned wide.

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, love. Say..Are you free right now? I was thinking we could get some coffee together,” He offered, a sweet smile on his face.

Y/N was taken aback. Sebastian Vettel wanted to go out with them? They swallowed, cheeks dusted red. “I-I..Yeah! I would love that, Sebastian,”

The German driver’s smile grew wider. He moved a hand to Y/N’s hand, taking it in his.

“Good. Let’s go,” He tugged them out, they followed Sebastian out of the hotel with their hand still with his.

Y/N set their cup of coffee down, sighing softly. They adjusted their scarf around their neck, clearing their throat.

Sebastian set his cup down as well, looking at the scarf. It was another anonymous gift given by him when they were in Canada.

“A pretty scarf. Who gave it to you?” They looked down, touching the soft fabric. “Oh, this? It was a gift from a friend,” They lied, lips pressed into a thin line. They felt anxious, these anonymous gifts were progressively increasing.

Y/N was so deep in thought that they had not realised Sebastian was leaning in closer, taking a good and close up look of the other. It was a chime from Y/N’s phone that snapped both out of their trance.

They looked down at the text and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Sebastian. Jenson needs me. He needs my help for tomorrow’s race,” They stood, grabbing their coat. “Thank you for the coffee, Sebastian, I really enjoyed it,” One last smile and they left, leaving Sebastian seated alone in the cafe. A scowl was on his face. Jenson, Jenson, Jenson. He was getting sick and tired of hearing his name. How much longer could he take it? He wanted Y/N to speak his name. To moan it. To scream it. He inhaled deeply, taking the final sip of his coffee before leaving the cafe. He could see the distant retreating figure of his love. They were not getting away easily.

Y/N took long strides across the streets, the hotel was not far now. They were extremely focused on their phone. They had been texting their friends but it has been a week since they last replied. It was a norm because their friends were constantly occupied with their jobs but they were getting worried.

The lift doors opened and Y/N stepped in. Another figure stepped in, standing behind them. The ride was quiet, piano music playing silently in the background as the lift brought them up to their level. As soon as the door opened, Y/N stepped out. Until they felt hands on them and a cloth covering their nose and mouth. They struggled against their assailant. The world spun around them, their throat and nose felt itchy. Soon enough, the last thing they remembered seeing were the bright lights of the hotel hallway.

Sebastian smiled to himself, picking Y/N up bridal style. Oh, how he wanted to feel their bare skin against his own. He leaned in, inhaling their smell deeply. How intoxicating! Sebastian pushed through Y/N’s hotel door, kicking it close with a foot. He set them on the bed, carefully removing their shoes and socks. His fingers touched the pad of their foot, keeping a massive smile on his mouth. Sebastian leaned down, inhaling deeply.

“Mm..mich ficken..,” (Translation: Fuck me)

He moaned, pressing a kiss to the skin. He moved over to the side, a hand cupping their face. He brushed their hair out of their face, leaning in closely. “Ah..Meine liebe. Du wirst mein Tod sein. Ich bin kurz davor, dich zu haben. Ich werde nicht aufhören, bis du mir gehörst,” (Translation: My love. You will be the death of me. I will not stop until you are mine)

Sebastian cooed, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to their lips. He shivered, the sweet lingering feeling stayed on his lips. He wanted more. His fingers moved to remove their scarf, chucking it aside. He worked through their clothing until they were bare chested. Sebastian leaned in, pressing his nose to their chest. At the same time, his lips left behind kisses to the soft skin, another moan left his lips.

“More,” Sebastian grunted. He got on the bed, carefully straddling Y/N’s lips. They looked so peaceful when unconscious. He was almost turned on by the side.

His hands grabbed the lapels of Y/N’s shirt collar, his lips attacking their skin. Bites,light flicks from his tongue, lips sucking. He left behind an array of artwork on Y/N’s skin. Dark marks littered all around their neck, collar and shoulder.

The driver chuckled to himself. “Wunderschön,” (Translation: Gorgeous)

Sebastian picked up another piece of undergarment, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. His phone was filled with obscure photos of Y/N too. He left behind a Y/N in their pyjamas, tucked under the thick duvet. He was more than satisfied. Next day was going to be a good day and a good race.

Y/N entered the Mclaren paddock. Their hands were stuffed deep into the Mclaren hoodie, lips pressed nervously into a thin line. Their mind was racing, hands shaking underneath the fabric. They remembered seeing themself in the mirror, covered with angry marks that they had no idea how it got there. Y/N was too afraid to tell anyone so they decided to cover it up with some thick foundation and a hoodie. They had not realised Jenson was calling them until he placed a hand on their shoulder. Y/N flinched slightly, looking up at the taller Brit.

“Woah, hey. You alright?” Jenson leaned down slightly, a worried expression across his handsome face. Y/N nodded, hugging the older male tightly.

He wrapped his arms around them, gently rubbing their back in a comforting manner. “What’s goin-,” Y/N pulled away, a big smile on their face. “It’s nothing, Jen. Just wanted to give you a good luck hug for this race,” They leaned up, planting a kiss to his cheek. “Well..Thanks, darling,” Jenson had a small smile to his face, pulling his balaclava and helmet down before getting seated in the car. Y/N placed the headphones on, their gut feeling was telling them that this race was not going to be a good one. They swallowed, taking a seat beside one of the mechanics with eyes fixated to the screens above.

True enough, Y/N’s gut was right. Once the five lights were off, Jenson had a terrible start after a wheelspin. He lost three places and was stuck behind Petrov. He finally passed the Renault driver after lap 17. He raced around the track up until lap 24 where he was called by his race engineer to pit for a new set of tyres. However, Jenson felt something was extremely wrong with the car. The steering was getting heavier, the car was getting harder to drive. He watched as Sutil and Rosberg passed him again. “I’m having some problems with the car. Steering’s getting heavy,” “Copy that. We need you to box now,”

Jenson struggled to get back, fighting against the force of the car.

“Jenson, we have to retire the car. I repeat, retire the car,” “What? What’s the problem?” Jenson pulled up to the pits, the crew was already waiting for him.

“Hydraulic problem,”

Jenson stopped the car, slamming a fist to the steering.

“Fuck!” He hissed.

Sebastian smirked under his helmet upon hearing the news from his engineer that Jenson had retired. It was all him. Sabotage was truly a treat.

After the race, as he walked by Jenson, he overheard the Brit’s words.

“I’d just overtaken Nico for sixth when my power steering started to get heavy. Soon after, we retired the car on safety grounds because we had a hydraulic issue,”

Sebastian has never felt such satisfaction. He would feel even more satisfied to see his car burst into flames. But no, it was too soon. He wanted to play further with his prey. He also wanted to spend more time with Y/N.

--------------------------------------------

Five races after Germany. Out of five races, Jenson has won two of them and Sebastian was beyond pissed. On the bright side, Y/N had been spending more time with Sebastian much to Mclaren’s dismay. They did not like the idea of one of their own mingling with another team’s driver but Y/N did not care. It was not as if they had feelings for Sebastian. But Sebastian viewed it otherwise. The more time he spent with Y/N, the more he thought that they loved him. He thought that they loved him so much that they were willing to spend a lot of time with him. He had a gift with him every single time they met and Y/N would always graciously accept his gifts. It made Sebastian extremely happy that his plans were going accordingly. He was going to confess soon and he hoped Y/N would accept his love.

Sebastian held one of Y/N’s hand.

“I really like you, Y/N. I was thinking, uh, if you wanted to go out with me properly? Like go on dates and be my lover,”

Y/N was taken aback, a stunned expression on their face.

“I-I..Uh..,” They saw Sebastian’s smile falter slightly.

“I’m sorry, Sebastian. I..I don’t see you that way. I’m really sorry,”

Sebastian sat silent for a good few seconds, processing their words that rang endlessly in his ears. “Sebastian?” They called out quietly.

The German smiled again.

“That’s okay,”

Y/N sighed softly in relief.

“Thank you for the confession. I really appreciate it. I’m just sorry I could not fulfil it,” A chime came from their phone again. “I have to go. Thank you, Sebastian,” Y/N stood, leaning over to plant a friendly kiss on his cheek before leaving.

He watched as they left, nails digging hard into the wooden table.

Sebastian roared in anger, throwing a lamp across the hotel room. The entire room was trashed with broken glass and perishable items all on the floor. That was the last straw. His head felt like it was imploding. He felt as if his whole world had crashed, shattered into nothingness.

First, Y/N rejected his love. A very big mistake indeed. If he found out who was occupying Y/N’s mind, Sebastian was going to crush him. Secondly, he had not had his fill of weed for the past two weeks. At least the drugs were able to subdue his insanity temporarily. Without it, he felt like a ticking time bomb. For now, nicotine patches were what he could make do with while he was in South Korea.

After his win in Korea, Sebastian spent the entire resting week going about on the internet, stalking every social media page Y/N was on. He found pictures of them on Instagram and Facebook, keeping those photos in his gallery for private purposes. This went on further until India where he stumbled upon two figures in the secluded corner. Jenson had his lips on Y/N. Sebastian heard soft moans coming from his lover and from Jenson. He swore he felt his heart shatter at the sound of pleasure coming from Y/N. Those sounds were solely for him and him only. How could they betray him like this? Sebastian should have seen it coming. He felt tears welled up in his eyes. The next thing he knew, he felt broken and unable to concentrate on what needs to be focused.

This loss of touch from the world caused him his loss in Abu Dhabi where he suffered a puncture from not taking care of his tyres properly. How could he? He wanted to get back at Jenson by winning races and then rubbing it in his face. Sebastian will have his revenge. He had been planning since 2008 and he has had enough.

When he replayed his imaginary plans in mind, he could not help but smile, constantly in a good mood. What got him further in a good mood was his win in Brazil. The Red Bull crew had all gathered around Sebastian and Mark, celebrating loudly as Mark clinched a fantastic P1 and Sebastian winning his second World Championship. The other drivers on the grid congratulated both Bulls for a good win.

His happiness faltered when he had not seen Y/N among the crowd. Or Jenson. Even Lewis had congratulated him for his win and it disappointed Sebastian that Jenson and Y/N was nowhere to be seen. No matter. Sebastian had plans for Jenson and they were really good plans indeed.

--------------------------------------------

Sebastian was at his balcony, smoking a roll of weed. He inhaled deeply, pushing the finished blunt down on the tray. He coughed softly, allowing the cold, fresh, Swiss air to fill his lungs after a rush of adrenaline. Behind, the dinner table had flipped over. Ceramic plates were in pieces on the floor, there was blood on the floor, a trail leading to the back of the house. Glass was among the mess on the floor.

Sebastian chuckled darkly, making his way to his basement. Jenson was slumped against the wall, heavy metal chains cuffed to his bruised wrists and ankles. There was blood everywhere, a small pool of it in a bucket. Sebastian picked up a large, sharpened blade. He tilted Jenson’s head up, the British man looked up at him weakly. “P-please..Seb..Stop..,” Jenson moaned weakly, spitting out blood.

“Stop? Why the fuck should I stop? Hm? Tell me, Jen,”

Jenson had tears of pain streaming down his cheeks, the pain was overwhelming. He swore he had broken a few ribs from the harsh punches, his fingernails were all gone and two of his fingers laid in the bucket of blood. Sebastian licked his lips, slashing the blade across Jenson’s face. The man screamed in pain, blood splattered across the wall. “Scream, little pig. I want to hear some music from you!” Sebastian roared with laughter, picking up his camera. The shutter clicked repeatedly, photos were taken from different angles. Sebastian had various brutal pictures printed out to be mailed to his Y/N. He had already sent some to Y/N. He knew how weak they was. How their weakness caused such overwhelming fear in their hearts that they could not run away. Sebastian wiped his bloodied gloves with a clean cloth. Four days with Jenson, the man was already half dead. All he needed to do was lure Y/N to him with the pictures. Time to play the waiting game.

Y/N came home from the supermarket with a smile. They stepped into their apartment, closing the door with an elbow. They sighed, setting the bags on the counter top. Sitting down on a bar stool, they took out the various mails from their bag, going through them one by one. A letter from the phone company, another from the energy company and another large odd string folder. They furrowed their brows, focusing on this particular mail. Slowly, they removed the string. Y/N dug their hand into the folder, taking out three large printed photo films with their backs to them. The first one had writing on it.

Such fun

Y/N had expected a picture of something lively. But they were wrong. They flipped the photo over, screaming in shock.

Jenson, hair coated in blood with his body held up in chains. Y/N felt tears welled up in their eyes, dropping the first film down.

The second film had writings too.

This is my vengeance on you, my love

The next photo was a picture of two severed fingers in a bucket full of blood. More tears streamed down their face. They dropped that picture as well.

The last photo. Such haunting writings.

If you ever want to see Jenson again, my love, come find me. Come save your Jenson. If you tell anyone about this, I will kill him. I will know if you did. Come, my love.

There was an address below it. They did not recognise it but they had to do something. ‘Who would do such a thing?! What the fuck?!’ Y/N thought, shaking hard on their seat. They felt more tears on their cheeks. They had to do something. But what? What could they do? They could not go to the authorities or Jenson would die. That meant that there was only one thing left to do…

Go to the address.

--------------------------------------------

The house was dark. It looked too clean to be abandoned.

‘Who lives here?’ Y/N thought, resting a hand against the front door, only to realise that it was open. They swallowed, stepping into the building with a piece of hardwood they found outside. The house was really dark, the only light came from their unlocked phone.

“H-hello?” A dark shadow moved in the corner of their eye. They gasped, turning towards that direction with their phone. Nothing. Y/N swallowed, heart racing in their chest with a thin sheet of sweat coating their forehead. Another shadow, Y/N stepped back until their back hit something soft. They jumped in shock, turning around and ready to hit whoever or whatever was behind her.

“Woah, woah!” Sebastian caught the wood before it could land on him.

“Sebastian?!” They stepped back.

“Yeah..It’s me,” “What? What are you doing here?”

Sebastian furrowed his brows. “Question is, what are you doing here?”

Y/N swallowed. “I-I don’t know.. Someone is hurting Jenson, Sebastian. I got–got some photos in the mail and..and..,” They shuddered. “I got them too,” Sebastian admitted.

“Wait, what?”

Sebastian looked down, nodding. “I’m guessing you’re here too because of the address written on the photo?” Y/N nodded.

“Whoever is it..This is fucked up,” Sebastian inhaled sharply.

“Come on..Let’s find Jenson,”

Sebastian and Y/N stayed close to one another, going through different doors and long hallways to find Jenson but nothing. “No..,” Y/N teared up, feeling helpless that they could not find Jenson. “Hold on,” Sebastian peered around a corner. “Look, there’s blood. Jenson could be down there,”

Y/N scrambled to Sebastian’s position, gasping loudly at the sight of blood.

“Jenson!” They screamed, running down the stairs. They pushed past a set of doors, the foul smell of blood struck their nose. Y/N gagged, they could barely see the room due to its dimly lit settings.

“Jenson? Jenson?” They called out, stepping further into the ominous basement. A soft rattling of chains caught Y/N’s attention and she could make out a figure among the darkness.

“Jenson! Oh my god, Jenson!” Y/N ran to the weakened British male, covering their mouth at the sight. Four fingers in the bucket, face beaten and cut beyond recognition, his leg was bent the wrong way. “Jenson!” They cried, kneeling in front of the male. Y/N cupped Jenson’s cheeks, crying hard at the horrifying sight. Jenson looked up weakly, wincing.

“Y-Y/N? No..No,” Jenson moaned.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Jen,” “No..No..You shouldn’t be here,” Y/N shook their head, looking around to see if they could free Jenson of his binds.

“No, Jen, I’m getting you out of here,” “No! You don’t understand! You’ve walked right into his trap!” Jenson yelled, shaking hard as he looked up.

A dark laugh, Y/N turned towards the doorway. Sebastian clapped, laughing maniacally as he stood under the low light.

“S-Sebastian?”

“Mmm..you innocent little thing,” Sebastian twirled a knife between his fingers.

Y/N grabbed a scalpel, holding it up in front of them.

“You..You monster! Why?! What did we ever do to you?!” Y/N yelled, more tears flowing down their cheeks.

Sebastian grinned.

“I love it when you cry..,” He mumbled to himself.

“Well, you see.. I’ve had enough of you and Jenson. Always acting like you two were something more and depriving me of that one thing I always wanted: You. All my gifts..How could you think they were from Jenson? It hurts to see you running to Jenson, thanking him when you should be thanking me,” Sebastian sighed.

“Of course, I let that slide. I can be forgiving too, you know? But then you two started fucking around with one another and you rejected my love for you. It made it seem like my shrine for you was fucking useless, you know? You hurt me, Y/N. Don’t you think it’s only fair that I do the same to Jenson?”

“You’re fucking insane! I’m going to tell the police and everyone about you,”

Sebastian growled. Within seconds, Y/N was pinned against the wall, the scalpel on the floor and his knife pressed against the base of their throat. “Y/N-,” Jenson coughed out weakly, unable to watch the scene before him.

The blade of the knife dug deeper into Y/N’s skin, penetrating it. Sebastian watched as blood trickled down their neck, a satisfied grin to his face.

“You hurt me too many times, Y/N. So, I did the same to you. Have you ever wondered what happened to your friends?”

Y/N froze, their eyes widened.

“What..What did you do to them?” “Hm..Same thing I will be doing to Jenson. The world is a happier place when all you need is me,” Sebastian leaned down, licking up the blood.

“No! Fuck you, you monster!” Y/N flailed, landing a punch to Sebastian’s cheek.

The German man laughed, landing a return hit to their face. And again, and again and again until blood flowed from their nose and a bruise was forming on their cheekbone. Sebastian grabbed Y/N’s collar, dragging them towards another set of chains across the room. Y/N whimpered, spitting out blood as they slumped against the chains. “I think it’s time we say goodbye to Jenson, don’t you think?” Sebastian approached Jenson, grabbing his jaw to force the Brit to look at him. “F-Fuck you, Vettel. You..You’re a sick and twisted fuck-,”

Sebastian shoved a knife through his throat, the man gurgled.

“Jenson! No! Jen!” Y/N wailed, tugging hard against the chains in hopes to save him. But all they could do was watch helplessly as Sebastian pulled out the knife, stabbing him over and over again mercilessly. Y/N got lightheaded, the last thing they saw was a large pool of blood.

--------------------------------------------

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years.

Y/N honestly did not know how long they had been with Sebastian. They did not know what was going on in the outside world. They did not care anymore. Sebastian could come and go and Y/N could not remember why. ‘Racing,’ Oh, right. Racing. They looked down at their bandaged ankle, suddenly remembering what caused it.

“Say you love me,” Sebastian grabbed Y/N’s jaw. They struggled, shaking their head furiously.

“Say you love me!” He snapped, landing a slap to Y/N’s swollen cheek.

“Fu-Fuck you!” They spat.

Sebastian grunted, releasing their face from their grasp. “Still so stubborn,” He returned to the table, picking up a heavy baseball bat.

“Fine. You brought this upon yourself, liebe,”

Sebastian struck the bat hard on Y/N’s ankle. They screamed in pain as Sebastian struck it again and again and again.

“Please! Stop! Stop! I love you!” They cried, tears flowing again. Sebastian froze, a big smile on his face now.

“I love you too. See? That wasn’t so hard,” Sebastian set the bat aside, bandage in hand this time. The German planted a sweet kiss to Y/N’s lips, hands careful to wrap the broken ankle up.

“Next time, don’t disobey me, okay? I love you,” Y/N whimpered, nodding.

“I love you too,”

Sebastian was satisfied.

Y/N awoke from their sleep, looking around the dark room. Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Everything was so quiet and they were so hungry. They slumped against the wall, looking towards the other set of chains. Jenson..Oh, Jenson. Just thinking about him made Y/N cry. They did not know what happened to him at all. Y/N cried silently, head snapping up when the front door burst open.

“Hier!” (Translation: Over here!) A voice shouted. Several footsteps descended from the stairs, bright light on Y/N’s face. “Jesus Christ, what the hell did he do to you? Hey! We have one here!” A policeman shouted.

Y/N looked up, struggling to move away.

“Hey, hey don’t worry. We’re here to help you,”

‘What? Was this real?’

“He’s-He’s-,”

“We got him,” Bolt cutters snapped the chains apart, paramedics came down to assist Y/N up. Y/N felt tears in their eyes again, crying softly on the stretcher as they paramedics brought them up. The last thing they remembered seeing was the red and blue lights flashing before passing out.

Freedom

Freedom at last

--------------------------------------------

Epilogue

After the whole incident, Y/N was finally up to date with what was happening in the world. Sebastian had cruelly held them in his basement for four years. The trauma held on tightly onto them. They had to go through various rigorous therapy to get themself out of the tortured mindset. As much as they wanted to forget about it, they could not. The last time they heard about Sebastian was shortly after they woke up in the hospital. They followed through his case in the distance and learnt that the German was too mentally ill to be placed in prison. So they held him in a mental hospital where he had been in since 2015. The worst part was that they were unable to track down Sebastian’s dumping ground.

Currently, it is 2019. Y/N was back in Formula 1 working closely with Mercedes and Lewis Hamilton. After that whole event, Lewis was always there with Y/N. Everywhere he went, they followed and everywhere they went, he followed. Y/N was placed under better protective care when they were with Lewis.

The Brit set his cup of coffee down. He had taken him and Y/N out for a drink. The Azerbaijan Grand Prix was the next day and Lewis wanted to have some time to relax. What better way than to spend it in a quiet cafe with Y/N?

Lewis stood.

“I’ll be right back, love,” He left shortly.

Y/N smiled, nodding as they returned back to the newspaper in their hand. Flipping to the next place, their smile faltered.

“No..,” Y/N swallowed, reading the title over and over.

Former Formula 1 driver, Sebastian Vettel, missing from German hospital.

All were in caps. Suddenly, memories of 2011 flowed back. Their hands gripped the paper tightly, shaking lightly as they continued reading.

Both local police and Interpol have been notified of this and are on the worldwide hunt for him. He was missing from 14 March and there had been no sightings of him yet. Please contact the authorities if anyone has any information or sightings of him. Do not approach him. Sebastian Vettel is a very dangerous man..

Y/N closed the paper shut, folding it harshly before throwing it in the rubbish bin. They wiped the tears from their eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly calming themself down. There was no way Sebastian could find them, right? After all, it has been years and there has not been any new news about Sebastian. The cafe was practically empty now and Lewis had yet to return. Y/N released a heavy sigh, feeling a warm hand on their shoulder, hot breath to the back of their neck.

“Lewis, I think we should go-,”

“Miss me, darling?”

#formula one #Sebastian vettel #Sebastian Vettel x reader #Sebastian Vettel x you #f1 imagines #f1 one shots #f1 x reader #f1 #Sebastian Vettel imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fandom #sv5 #Sebastian Vettel one shot

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avenirdelight · 3 years ago

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Warm Up to You | PART 2

Declan Rice

Part 1

There had been a lot of changes since that night. Declan started to be around her a lot when they hung out. He started to personally offer her rides home and she would accept. They started to argue less and actually be nice to each other. His jokes wouldn't sound annoying to her and her stubbornness wouldn't really irritate him anymore. They started to hang out together, just the two of them, mostly it was Declan who would ask for a company to go shopping or who would ask her where she was, and he would pick her up and they would end up having lunch or dinner somewhere.

And a few months later, they were in the car, going home from a home game. Declan was driving and she was in the passenger seat.

They were holding hands. Declan had initiated it and she let him. Their intertwined hands rested on her lap.

Declan had just won a big match. And she was a bit surprised that she felt immensely proud of Declan. The closest she had ever felt like this towards him was over the Euros, but for some reason, today she felt even prouder than that.

“Are you happy?” she asked, breaking the silence. Normally one of them would turn on the radio so the music would make it less awkward, but tonight it seemed like both of them were enjoying the silence since it was comfortable.

“Of course I’m happy,” he answered, eyes fixed on the road. “I knew we would win it. I just didn’t expect us to win four-nil.”

She’d asked, because usually Declan would be buzzing; he wouldn’t stop grinning and wouldn’t stop talking about the match, and at one point she would need to shut him up. But despite getting a goal and an assist today, he’d been quite calm, with only a subtle smile reigning on his lips. He hadn’t talked much and had only swiftly slid his hand into hers when they’d just passed the first traffic light. She had been surprised and her heart had jumped when he did it, but she held his hand back and hadn’t let it go.

“You did really well today, I’m proud of you,” she said, glancing at him. “One goal, one assist. You’re pretty good at this football thing, huh? ”

Declan’s lips perked up into a bigger smile. “Of course I am,” he joked, briefly glancing back at her. “Thank you. I’m glad you came tonight.”

They fell back into the comfortable silence. She looked out the window, watching the busy East London streets they passed. And her mind was just as busy.

She’d always watched Declan quite often, because their friends always dragged her with them. But lately she’d been finding herself coming to his home games by her own will, even wearing a Rice shirt, which Declan had been so happy about. And for the past few weeks, she had been coming home with him.

That privilege was only for her. None of their friends from their closest circle had gotten the special experience to wander around the players’ parking lot, sometimes bumping into some West Ham lads, before jumping to Declan’s car to be his after-match company. She’d been the first one to congratulate him after a win or console him after a loss. It made her wonder if she had become someone special.

“Dec… What are we?”

Her timid voice caught Declan’s attention again. He gripped the steering wheel a little bit tighter. He didn’t answer right away, but he didn’t seem too surprised with her question.

“What do you want us to be?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you,” she shrugged. “What do you want us to be?”

“More than friends,” he answered almost instantly, like he’d had the answer before she even asked the question. “I’ve figured out that I’ve grown something for you. I really like you. Way more than just friends.”

She bit her lower lip. It wasn’t only his words that made her feel the craziest leap on her stomach, but also how certain he sounded.

“I mean, lately I’ve been looking back a lot and I always ask myself,” he continued with a seriousness in his voice. “What the hell were we doing? For six years, we acted like we hated each other.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry.” The regret was clear in her voice.

“I’m sorry too. Well, I guess I’ve always cared about you. This stubborn girl needs someone to look for her, you know?” They both chuckled at that. “But, God, you’re the best at getting on my nerves…”

Fragments of memories flashed before her mind; the unpretty ones, where they’d said hurtful things to each other and done things just to wind each other up. Her mind traveled back to when they were kids. She didn’t exactly remember how the ugly banters had started, but they’d failed to leave their childish habits when they grew up.

Their gazes met for a second and they shared an understanding smile, realising how silly they had been all this time.

“But now we’re here and like what we have right now,” he continued. “And to be honest with you, I want more.”

Her heart was starting to pound hard on her chest, but she found calm and comfort in the warmth of Declan’s hand. She held it tighter and felt him doing the same.

“I do too. But I’m scared,” she whispered. “This is a bit confusing to me.”

Declan nodded. “I know… Don’t worry, we have all the time to figure it out,” he said with a reassuring voice. He glanced at her again with a fond look. “Maybe we should talk about it sometimes. I want to know how you’re feeling.”

“Okay,” she smiled at him. He responded with a deep chuckle, squeezing her hand one more time.

Later that night, they were cuddled in Declan’s bed. She slept with his shoulder as her pillow with his arm safely wrapped around her. She couldn’t even describe with words how insanely nervous she was or how heartwarming it was to feel his heart beat against her palm. She never knew that she could feel these things towards Declan, her “frenemy” for six years whom she thought she wouldn’t have a good relationship with forever.

But her heart had warmed up to him and his heart had warmed up to her.

Each day they were discovering new feelings and they were loving every single one of it. They realised that it was really nice to live without the resentment they had always held against each other. Since now they got to know about the real them that they’d never got to know, they found themselves falling for each other. They embraced all the changes within themselves even though it surprised them a lot, and they were accepting those feelings.

So when she woke up beside him the next morning and spent a lot of minutes staring at his peaceful sleeping face, thinking about how kind, caring, smart, and gentle Declan was and realising that “I'm falling for him”, she actually felt happy. She was happy that they were taking the route they were on now, even hoping that as they go on, they would really become something more.

But was only natural for her to start thinking about it. Friends to lovers —well, maybe enemies to lovers described it better— it was a bit scary to think how if something didn’t work out in the end. But she had sought for advices from Ana who had experienced the same thing and Ana said it was exactly what she’d felt when things started between her and Mason, but they were glad they’d followed their hearts. Ana gave her a piece of advice, for her to follow her heart. She only needed to make sure that her heart is telling her the right thing.

“I need to find out about something,” she said as they waited for the takeaway they’d ordered for lunch. Declan, who had just gotten back from training, was standing by the fridge raising his eyebrows, immediately giving all his attention to her. “I need to know if I’m really liking you, romantically, or what I’m feeling right now is just a form of my admiration for you, or some sort of amazement because I finally got to know you.”

“We can figure that out.” As he locked his phone and slid it into his pocket, he approached her who was sitting on top of the kitchen island. “Like I said, we’ve got all the time.”

Declan stopped in between her legs and she naturally linked her hands around his neck.

“I know…” She was nervous. Her heart jumped upon the feeling of Declan’s hands on her waist and she couldn’t really ignore the fact that his face was so close to hers.

“You okay? Why are you so nervous?”

She let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know… I’m just a bit overwhelmed. Maybe I think too much.”

“Well, that’s new. You never think too much, probably too little sometimes,” Declan teased and he got a light slap on his arm from her which he pretended to be hurt from. “Hey, it’s me. You have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s the thing. It’s you. The last person on Earth that I expected myself to fall for. A few months ago I always wanted to punch your face,” she confessed, drawing a light chuckle from him. “Now all I know is how much I want to kiss you.”

They both fell into silence. They stared at each other’s eyes, feeling the sudden change of mood between them. She bit the lower of her lips, she couldn’t believe she’d just said that out loud. Declan’s eyes went darker and she found the desire in his eyes – the desire that she was trying not to let herself be taken over with, especially when she knew that he was feeling the exact thing.

“Kiss me, then,” his voice was in another level of deep, it actually sent shivers down her spine. Her breath hitched and her fingers played with soft hairs on the nape of his neck in an attempt to calm herself down, not knowing that her light touches were driving him crazy.

Who would've known that they would ever look at each other like this?

Who would’ve known that they would crave for each other’s touch?

Who would’ve known that they would kiss?

She was the one who went for it, with her hands on the sides of his face, she slowly leaned in and captured his lips as their eyes fluttered close. She shuddered; the electricity that rushed on her body was overwhelming. His tender kisses were doing everything to make her heart explode, and she loved it.

Declan was holding back. He was doing everything in his willpower to not lose control and kissed her the way he wanted to kiss her because he was afraid it would be too much for her. So he let her take the lead, answering her with soft kisses, absolutely falling in love with the taste of her lips. His hands had subconsciously sneaked in under her shirt, they felt a little cold against the small of her back, and she loved it.

There was a smile on her face when their gazes met again. As Declan was busy taking her in, how flushed and beautiful she was, she ran her hands through his hair, loving how soft his hair felt in between her fingers.

“Yeah…” she breathed out.

Declan’s eyebrows creased in question. “What?”

“I’m sure about it,” she answered. As she held his face again, she stared back at his eyes. “I think I'm really falling for you.”

—

i honestly wanted to leave part 1 as it is, but i was asked for part 2, and i started to consider it for the future, because i had no idea how should i continue the story. but two days ago i woke up thinking about declan and got struck by ideas for a whole one shot...so there you go!

NOW I WANT YOU ALL TO IMAGINE HOW DECLAN INVITED HER TO BED😭😭😭 because i imagine it would be super soft?? they’re definitely one of my favourite couples i’ve ever written!

tell me what you think about the story, the characters, anything! i would love to hear about it! thank you for reading!❤️

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #declan rice imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #declan rice one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #footballer fic #football fic #imagine #one shots #fanfiction #avenirdelight gif

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eurovision-del · 3 years ago

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I’ve had a busy day today but I’ve finally had a chance to look at the full results from the Semi Finals.

Unsurprisingly Ukraine dominated the first semi, much the same way they did in the final! I must say that I feel bad for Croatia coming 11th two years in a row, although this year there was a much bigger gap in terms of points, so it’s not quite as painful. Turns out the general feeling that Switzerland qualified due to the jury was spot on, but Latvia actually got more points from the jury and wouldn’t have qualified with either vote! My guess is that it’s partly due to Norway overshadowing it for televoters who go for the wacky, fun entries, and partly due to the demographic of people who watch and vote in the semis being far wider than the specific type of people who post about it on tumblr. It’ll remain an iconic performance for me, though.

Sweden winning the second semi final also makes total sense, but I am impressed by just how many points they got, nearly 400, plenty more than Ukraine got in the first semi even taking into account the extra country in semi two! It’s not quite a record, Bulgaria qualified with 403 points back in 2017, but it’s close! I was surprised to see Australia qualifying second, and picking up plenty of televotes, considering how few they got in the final – but in the final the songs compete against more songs, the majority of which weren’t in the same semi, so it’s understandable that votes change between semis and finals. I feel a little bad for San Marino scoring so low, but I’d have felt worse if they’d only just missed out on the final, so maybe it’s for the best. I was glad to see that the UK did at least give them some televote points, so I feel I contributed something there. I also feel bad for Georgia coming dead last, though I do understand it. I think the result that bothers me most, however, is that Azerbaijan did so well with the juries that they qualified for the final despite receiving nil points from the televote!

The entire results of the second semi final however are definitely overshadowed by the ‘irregular voting patterns’. It really frustrates me! 6 out of 21 is a decent chunk, nearly a third! I do suspect the aggregate jury votes were part of the reason Sweden got such a high score (all six aggregate scores gave Sweden 12 points), but thankfully since they did very well with the juries in general and tied for first place in the televote with Serbia, I’m sure they’d have topped the semi regardless. I really feel for North Macedonia coming in 11th with this situation, though I hope that since the gap between them and qualification was 20 points that the results would be the same if the vote had happened properly. Since Ukraine won by such a clear margin I’m also sure that these aggregate results didn’t impact the final result, thankfully, and hopefully didn’t have too much effect on the results in general. However, regardless of what effect it may or may not have had, having any issues with voting is awful, and I really hope this is something the EBU can ensure doesn’t happen again. Previously I’ve said I like the 50/50 split system but think that the way the juries work could be improved, and this year I only feel that even more strongly. Honestly, if the entire system needs reworking because of this I will support that.

#eurovision #esc2022 #on a much lighter note #I want to thank everyone who's taken the time to read any of my posts #especially anyone who's liked or even left a comment!#I love talking about Eurovision and I'd do this anyway #but seeing that other people seem to enjoy my thoughts to makes it even more enjoyable to do!#so thank you everyone #I'm undecided when I'll be back #I'm considering doing some rankings of previous years over the summer #I'd like to someday do every year ever but that would definitely happen over the course of several years!#however I might be quite busy this summer #either way I'll definitely back when the next national final season kicks off!

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retrieve-the-kraken · 2 years ago

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Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting the reception that this post had overnight, I’m glad that I brought something interesting to the fandom 💙💛💜🧡

Just to expand on somethings that occurred to me after I posted it, before I went to bed (and I kinda wish I had added it right away to the original post for clarity, but I was tired..):

The reason why I brought toxic masculinity into my point on secrecy vs privacy is that secrecy and silence play an important role in cultures and environments of harassment and violence and abuse, and therefore toxic masculinity. It has a lot to do with privilege and power, with control and dominance. “Discretion” and a culture of silencing are a very big part of toxic environments, perpetrators take advantage of the power imbalance to maintain a culture of fear, and victims feel like they can’t speak up, they fear consequences, so they stay silent. (BTW, this is not something that I’m making up, this was all explained by a gender and inclusivity expert during a work training yesterday, and it absolutely prompted me to finally make this post).

Hillerska fosters a culture of discretion and secrecy masked by concepts of loyalty, and condones toxic and bad behaviors that reinforce the need for discretion and secrecy, and only those in the inner circles know the kind of things happening in there: abusive hazing rituals, as Lisa discovered during her research, are established and encouraged, as character-building.

August reinforces the culture every chance he gets, but when he is about to be reported to the police he is scared, mostly because of legal consequences to his actions, but low-key because of how he knows he ultimately broke the code of secrecy, he is a traitor. He cannot go down for this.,And so he finds the way to manipulate, overpower, dominate to save his ass, to maintain the code, and he threatens Wille with the phrase “Erik would never go to the police”.

Which makes me fear that it’s true, that Erik as a member of the Society, a brother, would reinforce the culture, it makes me wonder what he would have done in this situation, and what else we don’t know about him. Wilhelm thinks he knew his brother, the public Erik and the private Erik, but what if there was a secret Erik…? (The Erik that Wilhelm didn’t know also went to see Boris regularly, as Nils revealed).

Nils himself is both a perpetrator and a victim of the culture, he had to learn to play the game, he would have too much to lose if he didn’t. Because in any toxic masculine/ abusive environment, the most vulnerable groups are women, minorities like Simon, who as Latino, son of an immigrant, working-class socialist and gay, is the victim of constant micro aggressions, and queer people like Wilhelm, whose position and identity are a constant source of anxiety. Nils and Simon are both minorities and queer, but at least Nils is privileged by his money and his family. He plays the game, he gets to win on occasion. But he is trapped in it, he is trapped in the cycle.

At some point someone has to speak up, break the cycle of silence and secrecy. That’s why it’s so powerful to me when Simon chooses to sacrifice potentially being with Wille and decided to go to the police and he says “someone here has to do the right thing”. Unfortunately we know what happened then…

Meanwhile Wille had everything to gain from staying silent as well, potentially letting August take over for him as Crown Prince, even if it meant rewarding him with what August has always wanted, but Wille would potentially gain something ever bigger: his freedom, and the freedom to be with Simon. But then he realized that he couldn’t do that, the goodness in him wouldn’t let him, he had to put a stop to the endless cycle of enabling, secrecy and silence, otherwise he would never be truly free. He was done playing the game.

And then we see Sara, who wants more than anything to be in the elite group, to be rich and privilege, she starts playing the game too: she keeps the secret of August leaking the video from he brother, from her friends, to get ahead, she manipulates August for her own benefit, and the truth only comes out when she realizes someone else (Wille) has the upper hand. She quickly realizes how toxic it was for her to trust August, to betray Simon, to betray Felice.

But she was still playing the game a little while later; she went from keeping Stella’s secret love for Fredrika like a “good friend” to basically threatening to out her.

But is Stella’s sexual identity a secret? Is Wille’s? In my opinion no one’s sexuality should be considered a secret, because “secret” can so often be given the connotation of something that is perceived as wrong, something bad, something that shouldn’t come out, and even worse, something that can be used against someone, that can be used as leverage for manipulation…

Sexuality is instead a matter of privacy. Wille didn’t have to come out, but he chose to. Stella chooses not to come out. Nils chooses not to come out. Nobody owes anyone their sexual identity.

(By the way, that whole storyline hit very hard especially with everything that happened with Kit Connor from Heartstopper… and to think he was forced to come out only a day before the release of YR season 2… and then we’re presented with that storyline… I will never not be mad about it…)

Ugh I’ve gone down the rabbit hole again…

Anyway, shout out to my brave boys Wille and Simon for breaking the cycle.

I don’t know if someone has already said this, but to me sending Wilhelm to Hillerska was never about him adopting the right routines or learning responsibilities. And it wasn’t, like the Queen said, about keeping him from situations like this or making sure that they don’t arise. Sure, maybe it was a part of it, but not the only reason. Ultimately, it was about keeping Wilhelm a secret.

Tucked away in the middle of nowhere in a boarding school where the press can’t catch a whiff of anything, and it can’t damage the image of the monarchy. What happens in Hillerska stays in Hillerska, and the Queen knows this very well, having attended there. She talks about going to wild parties at the Palace and being aware of the culture of drinking and drugs and sex and partying, because it’s encouraged. It is an environment that fosters secrecy, that enables bad behavior and keeping it under wraps, it is part of the code, both the Royal code and the Hillerska code.

So Wilhelm could do whatever he wanted over there, he could be as wild as he had been before, he could do anything, hook up with anyone, the important thing was that it would stay out of the news, out of the public eye.

Except that it didn’t.

(It was a particularly big deal that the video, “the truth”, was revealed by August, one of the strongest advocates for the secrecy code, the one that claims that they could kill someone and get away with it… so for him to break the code of secrecy is brutal… but it’s worth pointing out that he only did it after Wilhelm broke the code himself, when he revealed in front of the members of the secret Society that August had financial problems. An eye for an eye…)

So maybe the whole commotion regarding the video being public wasn’t so much about Wilhelm being queer, although it probably was in part, but mostly it was about him being queer on a video spread all over the internet. It was about how public it got, how very un-secret it became.

And the only way that the Royal Court resolves to fix this secret coming out is to cover it with more lies. The show itself opens with a lie, when Wilhelm has to give a statement saying that he’s willingly going to Hillerska, and the season ends with him lying about being in the video, hiding his own identity, having to pretend that August wasn’t behind everything, and having to hide his relationship with Simon. Then season 2 is about him dealing with the aftermath of all of that, with complying with the secrecy, being offered new ways to stay secret (Nils and his invitation to Verbier, to hook up with men that will be discreet, etc).

Wilhelm is never really okay with secrecy, he is an advocate for privacy. He doesn’t want to say anything but he doesn’t want to hide either. He is not ashamed of his sexuality, but he is worried about how it reflects on the monarchy, on his family, his brother, and he is stressed about having to maintain appearances, having to hide his anxiety, having to be a public figure, having to be basically perfect, or at least perceived as perfect.

Wilhelm is very aware and a victim of the toxic masculinity around him, and it makes me wonder where he gets it from: from little things like when he looks annoyed when August talks about getting with Felice before she develops self-esteem (to which, to my dismay, Erik did laugh) or being affectionate with his brother or being a perfect gentleman when Felice kissed him and when she apologized for kissing him, to bigger things like being close friends with Felice and refusing to participate in “on the table” and of course, revealing his relationship with Simon on national television.

(Wilhelm does, unfortunately, play into the toxic masculinity a lot this season, because that is what often happens in toxic environments, in masculine competitive culture. You have to “play the game” if you want to survive, and Wilhelm sees that the only way to get revenge on August is to play the same game: playing with power, taking away power, being dominant when he wants to get into the party and when he dismantles the seniority hierarchy in the dining hall, when he challenges August knowing that he has him “by the balls”, cheating during training, lying to Alexander… and ultimately pointing a gun at August. All of these things are enabled by the environment of Hillerska, and they work for a while, but they definitely don’t work with Simon. What ultimately helps Wilhelm get Simon back is showing all the non-toxic qualities that he already possessed: being kind, being honest, owning up to his mistakes, being patient, giving him space, letting him go, even if it hurts like hell… It’s obvious that Wilhelm is not perfect, but fortunately Wilhelm never aims for perfect, he aims for good.)

(It’s worth mentioning that, as a monarch and as a former student of Hillerska, Kristina was probably a victim and a perpetrator of the same toxic masculinity, competitive culture, because as a woman in a male dominated world, she probably also felt that she had to play the game. She continues to enable this culture by maintaining the secrecy code, to her own detriment and the detriment of her son, but she probably knows no other way. But we’ve already talked at length about this. EDIT: I forgot to add that I think that’s part of the reason why she looks so disconcerted and tense when Wilhelm says what he says during his speech, because she’s scared, because she’s aware that it’s a toxic man’s world out there, and it’s particularly harsh and toxic for anyone who doesn’t fit into the masculinity role, that means women like her, queers like Wilhelm, and minorities like Simon… )

Simon also likes his privacy, he doesn’t need to be public with Wilhelm, until the whole thing comes out, and Wilhelm is forced to lie. Then of course he feels awful, like he’s some dirty little secret. He doesn’t understand that that’s just how Hillerska works, how the monarchy works, that is the secrecy code, and he doesn’t understand the pressure that Wilhelm is under to continue to uphold that code. That is until he has a secret of his own to hide, the drugs he stole from his father, and that he has to protect himself and his family. When he finally understands that the secrecy is a monster that he will never defeat, he realizes that maybe it’s not worth fighting it anymore, the important thing is to be with Wilhelm, to be able to love him, no matter what, even if it has to be in secret. As long as there are no more secrets between them.

And that’s when it hits Wilhelm. The moment that Simon tells him that he’s okay with being a secret, is the moment that Wilhelm realizes that he is not okay with that, that he doesn’t want any more secrets at all. He realizes that he will always be trapped in one lie after the other, always be a victim of the secrecy code, unless he puts a stop to it.

So he tells the truth. The ultimate truth. “It was me in the video. Me and Simon. I lied because it was private. But it’s me.” In one single moment the video goes from a raunchy sex tape to a horrible violation of privacy, he condemns the “unknown” perpetrator of this violation, he makes it seem that it was his choice to lie and absolves the Monarchy from having forced him to lie, he advocates for privacy, he regains control of the narrative for himself and for Simon, he condemns secrecy, and he sets himself free.

The truth will always set you free.

Or at least we hope.

#young royals #young royals analysis #young royals thoughts #young royals season 2 #young royals s2 #yr s2

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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Friday Night Lights: A Non-American’s Guide to American Football

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Friday Night Lights is now back on Netflix and you have to watch it.

Just to be clear, that isn’t a request – it’s an order. The NBC football drama is simply one of the most affecting, thrilling American TV shows of all time. Though premiering in 2006, the show can mark its lineage all the way back to a true story from the late ‘80s. In 1990, sports journalist H.G. “Buzz” Bissinger published the non-fiction book Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream. The book follows the story of the 1988 Permian Panthers high school football team in Odessa, Texas as they make a run for a Texas state championship.

The book was adapted into a Peter Berg film of the same name in 2004, starring Billy Bob Thornton. The story of the Permian Panthers was dramatically rich enough to conquer two mediums already, but when a third was announced in the form of a TV series for NBC it seemed like overkill. Did the world really need more high school football drama after a successful book and movie? It turns out that the world really did.

Friday Night Lights, the TV show, further fictionalized Bissinger’s story. Odessa, Texas becomes the fictional Dillon, Texas (though the Permian Panthers logo remains a big yellow “P”). Kyle Chandler steps into the role of a new coach, the magnanimous Eric Taylor. Shot in a cinema verite-style where blocking is optional, Friday Night Lights makes the viewer feel like they are just another Dillon citizen, desperately dreaming for a state championship. Above all else, this empathetic show never speaks down to its small town characters.

As previously stated, Friday Night Lights is a must-watch. But if you’re one of our many non-American readers (Hello, everyone! I see you out there, writing “s” in words that need “z”), the football angle may seem like a real roadblock. So let’s tear down that roadblock. American football is the most popular sport in the United States but also perhaps its most impenetrable. The rulebook is thick and its connection to American culture deep. What follows is an attempt to explain American football for non-American viewers who are hesitant to tackle the show. Hopefully this will also prove useful to existing Friday Night Lights fans who have some questions about the game.

To simplify matters, we’ve broken our football school down into three parts: The Different Levels of American Football, which explains the sport’s place in American culture and why high school football is a big deal; The Rules of American Football, which is as succinct a distillation of how the game is played as possible; and The Strategy of American Football, which examines whether Eric Taylor is even a good coach anyway.

The Different Levels of American Football

Football is a pervasive force in American society. The highest level of play in the country (and the world) is the National Football League in which 32 teams of well-paid professionals compete against one another. The NFL is the richest sports league in the world by revenue and its championship, the Super Bowl, is usually watched by roughly 100 million people per year. Football’s influence doesn’t begin and end with the NFL though. The NFL doesn’t have a minor league or development system, so those interested in watching younger athletes are able to do so by following the sport on the collegiate or high school level.

College football is a huge deal. Some major universities’ football stadiums can house upwards of 100,000 fans. Four-year universities and colleges across the country field their own football teams that compete against one another in 12-game seasons (before a postseason consisting of “Bowl Games” but that’s too complicated to get into right now). Football at the collegiate level contains hundreds of teams split up into different leagues based on size and different conferences based on geography (for the most part). There isn’t any promotion and relegation like in European football leagues but if an institution grows big enough they can secure an invite to a higher level.

Though the decision-makers of the sport like to pretend it’s an amateur exercise and the players are not paid, college football is really a multi-billion dollar business. In fact, college football’s governing body, the NCAA, was just spooked enough by a U.S. Supreme Court decision that it allowed its athletes to finally pursue “Name, Image, Likeness (NIL)” deals in which they are allowed to make money from personal sponsorships.

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Then we come to the high school level of football. Longtime viewers of American teenage dramas may have a pretty good idea of what a U.S. high school is now but here’s a primer for those who don’t. High school is the highest level of free public education in the U.S. before the more academically (and financially) strenuous college system. High school follows eighth grade (which together with seventh grade usually comprises of “middle school”) and consists of freshmen (ninth graders or 14-15-year-olds), sophomores (tenth graders or 15-16-year-olds), juniors (11th graders or 16-17-year-olds), and seniors (12 graders of 17-18-year-olds).

In some areas of the country, high school football is a bigger deal than college football or even the NFL. Though this level of the sport is played by essentially children, a high school football team may be the only competitive sports enterprise within hundreds of miles for some communities. This is particularly true in the massive U.S. state of Texas. Every region of the U.S. loves football, but passion for the sport is particularly acute in the Southeast, Midwest, and Texas. West Texas, where Friday Night Lights is set, is really high school football mad. The region is distinctly rural and far removed from the state’s three big cities – Houston, Austin, and Dallas. As such, high school football is the singular cultural force that many oil-drilling West Texas communities rally around.

High school football leagues across the country differ considerably, but like in college football, schools are generally grouped together by size and funding. Public and private high schools are able to compete in the same sports conferences as long as they have similar enrollments and budgets. Typically a high school football season consists of only 10 games (football is a physically brutal sport and as such plays far fewer games per year than other sports like baseball, basketball, or soccer). The regular season is usually followed by a bracket-style playoffs culminating in a state championship. There is no country-wide tournament, which is why “winning state” is the ultimate goal in Friday Night Lights.

The Rules of American Football

I won’t lie to you: this is going to be difficult. Explaining any sport from scratch is a tall task, let alone a sport as complicated as football. Let me attempt to do so from the ground up and please be patient. There will be some visual aids as well.

First, it’s probably helpful to know about the field that football is played on. There’s a reason why in some European markets that the sport is known as “Gridiron Football” and that’s because the field resembles a cooking utensil known as a gridiron.

Every American football field consists of 100 yards (split into two sides of 1-50 yards). At the end of each side of the field is an “endzone.” A player entering into the endzone with the football is called a “touchdown” and nets a team six points. At the back of each endzone are the goalposts – yellow tuning fork-like structures that the ball is occasionally kicked through for more points. These are akin to rugby’s goalposts but slightly differently shaped. Let’s table the whole kicking thing for now and focus strictly on the action on the field.

The goal of football is to enter into the endzone with the ball to score points and have more points at the end of the game than the other team. A football game is 60 minutes, split into four 15-minute quarters (with a lengthy halftime break after the second quarter). Eleven players take the field for each team, one side on “offense” and one side on “defense.” A coin is flipped at the beginning of each game to decide who gets to start as offense and who gets to start as defense. The team who began the game on defense will get to be the offense at the start of the second half.

The offense is charged with advancing the ball 100 yards down the field into the end zone, while the defense is tasked with stopping them by tackling the person with the football to the ground. The offense is granted four tries or “plays” to try to score. The action isn’t continuous in American football like it is in European football. After a team runs a play to attempt to advance the ball, they get a 40-second break to plot their next play. A play simply refers to the action on the field that the offense takes to get down the field. It begins with the “center” “snapping” the ball to the “quarterback” behind him and ends when the offense either scores (rare) or is foiled in some way – whether that means being tackled in bounds, stepping out of bounds, or throwing the ball out of bounds. Here is a chart of the typical football positions.

The offense’s two most reliable ways of advancing the ball downfield are either throwing it or running it. On a running play, the quarterback (Jason Street or Matt Saracen in Friday Night Lights) will receive the snap and hand it off to a running back (Smash Williams or Tim Riggins) who tries to run the ball upfield while his teammates block for him. Alternatively, the quarterback can throw the ball to an open wide receiver as long as the throw originates from behind the line of scrimmage (the area on the field where the play originated).

Four tries to reach the end zone are rarely enough opportunities for the offense. Thankfully, that’s where “first downs” come in. If the offense advances 10 yards, their “downs” or attempts to score reset back to the full four. That’s where terms like “1st and 10” or “2nd and 7” or “4th and 1” come from. The first number refers to which “down” or attempt the offense is on (1, 2, 3, or 4) while the second number refers to how many yards they need to reach to achieve another first down. Due to penalties or a player being tackled well behind the line of scrimmage (called a “sack” or a “tackle for loss”), the number of yards needed to reach a first down can exceed 10. One time in 2012, the Washington Football Team even had a “3rd and 50”, meaning they needed to move 50 yards for a first down.

If the offense fails to score or get a first down while on fourth down, possession of the ball is granted to the other team on the same spot that the offense failed. This is called a “turnover on downs.” The team that was previously on offense will bring their defensive unit into the game while the other team will bring their offensive unit. At the collegiate and professional level, players usually only play on one “side” of the ball – offense or defense. In high school, where the level of talent is more inconsistent, it’s not uncommon for several players to be on both the offensive and defensive units. This doesn’t come up much on Friday Night Lights though – for the most part the offensive players stay on offense and the defensive players stay on defense.

It is possible for the defense to force a turnover in other ways beyond just a turnover on downs. If the offense drops or “fumbles”’ the ball and the defense recovers it, it belongs to them. If the defense catches a ball thrown by the offense it is an “interception” and the offense suddenly becomes the defense and the defense suddenly becomes the offense. This situation factors prominently in Friday Night Light’s first episode.

Turnovers are awful, so the offense has a couple of tools to combat them. At any point during their drive down the field, the offense can choose to “punt” the ball. This means that if they’ve reached 4th down and are unlikely to convert a first down (if it is 4th and 10 from their own 30 yardline for instance), they can choose to have a kicking specialist called a “punter” enter the field. The punter receives the snap, tosses the ball up in the air, and punts the ball far down the field to the other team to catch and try to advance. This is a surrender from the offense but at least they’re making things a bit more difficult for the other offense by pushing the new offense further down the field. Punts rarely factor into Friday Night Lights as they aren’t particularly interesting.

Alternatively, if the offense is close to the end zone but not close enough that they’re confident they can reach it, they can attempt to kick the ball through the aforementioned goalposts for three points. A “kicker” is brought onto the field and attempts to kick the ball through the goalposts from the ground. A “holder” is allowed to hold the ball upright for the kicker but the ball must be touching the ground for the attempt to count.

Let’s delve a little further into the scoring system. We’ve mentioned that kicking the ball through the uprights is a field goal and nets three points while carrying the ball into the endzone is a touchdown and nets six points. But there are a couple other ways to score in football as well. After a touchdown is achieved, the offense is immediately granted the opportunity to score again. They must choose whether they want to kick the ball through the uprights from extremely close range (which nets one extra point) or to try to reach the end zone again from extremely close range (which nets two extra points). Additionally, if the offense is tackled in their own end zone, it nets two points for the opposing team and they receive the ball back via punt. This is called a “safety.”

To recap:

Safety: 2 points

Field Goal: 3 points

Touchdown: 6 points (+1 for a field goal attempt, +2 for a scoring attempt).

This means that football scores can generate pretty much any result other than 1-0 or 1-1. Typically a “normal” scoring game will be somewhere between the 20-40 range in divisions of 7 or 3. A score of 35-28 is a pretty usual final football score.

Still confused? That’s understandable. Football is a fairly confusing sport at times. But hopefully you are a little better equipped to understand the action on the field in Friday Night Lights. The show certainly isn’t trying to present a complicated depiction of football. Armed with the basics, you should have a rough idea of what’s happening during all the football action.

If you feel like you’ve mastered the basics, feel free to move on to the final section of this piece.

The Strategy of American Football

The only constant in football is change. The rules of the sport are tweaked every single year and sometimes the sport undergoes truly massive alterations. In fact, the forward pass itself (now a staple of the game) wasn’t even legal for the first few decades of football’s existence. As such, the offensive and defensive strategies of football are in a constant state of flux.

What’s interesting to note about Friday Night Lights is how old-fashioned its depiction of football appears to be at the series’ beginning. Keep in mind that this story began with the 1988 Permian Panthers. So despite premiering and taking place in 2006, the Dillon Panthers offense looks quite antiquated at first.

The Dillon Panthers open the series as a run-first offense in a “Wing-T” formation. Running back Brian “Smash” Williams is the cornerstone of the Panthers’ strategy because back in the ‘80s and ‘90s, athletically superior running backs were usually the most dominant force in any high school offense. The Panthers plan of attack is to have a fast tailback (colloquially called a “running back” because they begin the play in the backfield and then…run) and a strong fullback in the backfield alongside the quarterback. The Panthers’ plan is to snap the ball, give it to the fast guy, have him follow the big blockers, then rinse and repeat.

Interestingly enough, the show uses the primitiveness of the Panthers’ offense to its advantage in later seasons. When some parents and Panthers boosters (literally just rich people that support a high school or college team) want to oust Coach Eric Taylor, they point to his inability to change with the times and create a sophisticated passing attack as one reason. Coach Taylor does eventually attempt to implement a “spread” offense.

Spread offenses were all the rage at the high school and collegiate level in the early aughts. The “spread” strategy refers to “spreading” three to five wide receivers on the line of scrimmage to force the defense to cover them man-to-man. Defenses are always strategizing just like offenses, and by forcing the defense to spread out and guard many receivers, it takes away a lot of their more sophisticated coverage options (like double-teaming or divvying up the field into “zones” of coverage).

In later seasons, when Coach Taylor gains access to a fast, dynamic quarterback, he incorporates a bit of the “option” into his spread offense. This is where the QB uses the spacing from the spread to scan the field, analyze certain players’ positioning on the defense, and decide to pass the ball, hand off the ball, or run the ball himself.

Based on all this, it sounds like Eric Taylor is a pretty brilliant coach, right? Well, not exactly. The internet is littered with breakdowns of Taylor’s strategy from smart football minds. Most of said articles criticize him on two big fronts. The first is his tardiness in adapting to a pass-heavy offense. The second is his absolutely abominable clock management. Since the clock counts down in American football and there is no stoppage time, managing time is a huge part of a coach’s responsibility.

Since the show naturally wants to inject some drama into its football scenes, the Dillon Panthers as coached by Eric Taylor often have next to 0 clock awareness. This breakdown even notes than in the pilot episode, the Panthers somehow only move the ball 30 yards in five minutes of gametime. That is…pretty curious.

Also, while it’s not uncommon for a head coach to specialize in either the defensive or offensive side of the ball, Eric Taylor’s is particularly offensive-focused. Defensive plays aren’t as exciting to depict on television, so Coach Taylor is rarely shown coaching up the defensive half of his team. That’s a pretty big blindspot when it comes to head coaching.

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Now that you’ve read through this full breakdown of American football, give Friday Night Lights a watch or a rewatch. Who knows – you may even be a sharper football mind than Coach Taylor at this point.

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