#at least good bye to the season

[supercantaloupe]

okay don giovanni review from last night. under the cut bc it's me. tldr the vocal performances were great, leporello carried the show, one of the most insane productions i've seen thus far but somehow in a new bizarre direction from normal. good snacks.

first of all i don't care how much wine you offer i think it's kind of ridiculous to charge $165 for a base ticket price for a performance that 1. isn't even in a concert hall or theater 2. is a concert performance rather than a staged performance (which was not advertised ahead of time) and 3. was not even a full production because they made the absolutely mind boggling decision to cut 100% of the recitative and replace it with Some Guy sitting on the stage narrating the plot between every 1-3 numbers

i did not pay that much gd bless. the student ticket was way cheaper.

the narration wasn't even good it was weirdly ungenerous to the women (like how do you even make elvira out be a "women, amirite" thing and also vaguely imply anna was into it in a production with zero acting? well they figured something out) and i don't think it even explained well enough what happens between each number to truly give a first time watcher a good idea of what's actually going on. not to mention that it absolutely kills any sense of momentum in the plot and makes the entire show drag like hell, because you have to wait between every single aria for either Some Guy to talk at you for three minutes straight, or wait awkwardly while people onstage walk off and people offstage walk on. it was so painfully clunky

they had a piano up there but since there was no recit it's not like she was accompanying much of anything. in practice what it ended up being used for was 1. the mandolin part for deh vieni (acceptable in the absence of a mandolin player; they were working with a limited chamber ensemble of musicians so i get it) 2. the party music at the end of act i (egregious fault imo because it absolutely kills the vibe of the scene and completely obfuscates the way the music is supposed to be adding to the tension and chaos with its different instrumental groups playing in different meters)

and 3. used to give singers their notes when the vocal line of their arias start on beat 1 measure 1, which they otherwise would have been able to get from the preceding recits (which is imo painfully amateurish for an ostensibly professional production)

all the numbers in act i were there although the narration was so bad i got jumpscared by fin ch'han dal vino because i forgot it was supposed to be there and thought we had skipped over that point in the plot. act ii had some really bizarre additional cuts made, notably they just entirely skipped over meta di voi and vedrai carino. it was like masetto and zerlina fuck off for the entirety of act ii save for, like, mille torbidi (they VERY briefly mentioned masetto getting beat up in the narration and i don't think they mentioned vedrai carino at all, they just skipped straight from deh vieni to sola sola. and also there was a painful awkward pause before deh vieni because i think the pianist forgot she was supposed to play there and the narrator jumped ahead to the next chunk of plot explanation too early). kept both dalla and tesoro (i'm fine with this ottavio was quite good though could've used a bit of ornamentation imo), kept mi tradi, kept non mi dir (more on that in a bit). no per queste which is probably a good thing not only for the show itself but also my head would have absolutely and irreversibly exploded if they had, probably

the whole thing kind of felt underrehearsed. like a quarter of the time it seemed like people didn't know what they were doing or had to be reminded where to be at that point in the show. and there were a few moments throughout where the orchestra struggled to keep up with the singers, but i really don't think they had much time to rehearse together, honestly.

and then, to my utter shock, the finale was actually really good?? like. insane compared to the rest of the show thus far. though it helps that 1. i absolutely love the harmonieband arrangements of cosa rara/i litiganti/non piu andrai, after possibly the draggiest non mi dir i've yet experienced it was like a breath of fresh air to hear that (and non mi dir was actually well performed i liked this anna but considering how much the Entire Show was dragging, the fact that they cut meta di voi and vedrai carino, AND the fact that they promised this act would be short, it felt crazy to me to keep it at that point.)

2. leporello and the don were by far the best performers of the night. so much so that i sought them out during the post show reception to tell them how great they were and enjoyed their performance. which i usually do not do, but in this like, high school recital ass production value. unbelievable relief that the final scene is dominated by the two actors in the show who most remembered that they can, and in fact Should, be acting. so much more movement and physicality and expression from those two compared to most everyone else. leporello especially, his actor apparently specializes in comedic bass roles and it shows, he was the standout all night

and 3. for the first time in the entire production they made an interesting decision regarding the physical space and staging! they had the commendatore sing from up on a balcony overlooking the audience in the foyer. the bar admittedly was set very low in the previous act and a half but the finale reminded me that i actually like this show again which is appreciated

though they then threw another curveball at me by Cutting the sextet at the end. which like didn't even piss me off at that point i was just baffled. like the don sinks down in agony and leporello sinks down whimpering in fear and the orchestra cuts off. and i'm expecting an awkward pause while they quietly get up and shuffle off so the rest of the cast can come back but nope. big orange title slate appears on the big screen behind them and the audience breaks into a roaring applause and the announcement of the wine and dessert reception. felt like i was in a fever dream

i will say the desserts were very nearly almost worth the bullshit that was the preceding show. they were so good. thank you austria for your dedication to pastry. and because i don't drink and couldn't appreciate the free wine offered i had to indulge in my own manner. spread contained chocolate oat bites (tasted as much like espresso powder as chocolate and coated in coconut, 4/10), almond sponge cake (classic, 7/10), cardamom apple bread pudding with caramel cream (not enough cardamom but otherwise very tasty and autumnal, 8.5/10) and honey cake (11/10. i don't know how they made this so good. i want more right now so much). i take both my mozart opera and my desserts very seriously.

anyway overall the production was. i would say frustrating. the singing quality was Really Good (leporello was the clear standout, probably followed by the don though i prefer my dons with a lighter voice but technically he was very good, then probably ottavio, then maybe masetto or anna. the commendatore was great but he's in it so little it's hard to compare)

i just wish they could have, like, actually done a full production. it would have been so great if they had gotten to tell the actual story and had been fully allowed to act. when there Was acting were the best moments of the show, and it's really unsurprising that most of that came from leporello, the absolute legend.

[averlym]

a word to the wise sometimes the only true rest is looking beyond what you thought was success

so true! adamandi is full of wise advice such as this, including: "and you'll never feel better if you - fucking die- you stupid ass!"

[icewindandboringhorror]

It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...

[tenitchyfingers]

I mean, people who watched Good Girls and don't see what a great fucking job Matthew Lillard did on Dean are just pitiful. Like this character could've been the blandest, most boring and meaningless one on tv ever, and I've seen similar ones too being played, you know, that way, with no pussy put in them. And I would've hated THIS character so much had he been played by literally anyone else. But there's a humanity and a frailty coming through with this performance that just steals my heart. Yes the character is not a goddamn saint, yes he fucked up, yes he did shit that gets you angry because of how dumb he was in s1-2. But throughout it all you see so well how Dean is just a person (in fiction anyway) and how he feels the way a person would. He's not a stereotypical man, he's not a performance, he's a guy who's pretty normal and feels like just a guy, with human complexities. Stan feels the same. And I really do believe it takes breaking a character into pieces to see who they are and how they work, and I love how Dean is fundamentally a flawed person who's grown SO much since season 1, probably more than anyone else, and you see that growth through this performance. He just feels authentic. Rio, though? That guy's just such a one-dimensional Bond villain. Seriously, no depth is put in that performance, there is nothing real in it and honestly? That's why I want him dead. He's a flat character played by an actor who gave a flat performance. and hey, I'm not saying Manny is not a good actor, he just probably could not get into the mind of someone doing what he does. He's too surface-level for it, which is counter-intuitive because playing evil villains should be fun and should get you to dig deep within a character and find ways to connect to them. But Rio just feels like a pretty shell and the hotness factor wore way off back in the beginning of season 1. And I mean, I absolutely LOVE bad guys, shit most of my favorite characters ARE bad guys. My favorite performances by Lillard are the bad guys. But honestly, he's the best performer in this show along with Reno Wilson and Christina Hendricks. It's not just because I'm currently hyper-fixating on Lillard, it's because he's objectively a scene stealer even as, if not even more as, a supporting character. And that's his thing, he gets cast as a secondary character and delivers the best performances in anything he's in. I'm not going back on this.

[karihighman]

Bye bye Big Sky ☹️ thanks for a great 3 seasons! These are only some of the insane, epic moments that happened. 📸🎥🥲

[homosexualcitron]

1 year ago exactly police officers and bailiffs were coming to kick me and my family out and this and the 2 months we spent moving out every week since we had no home wasn't easy but hey i'm still there and now i have a home and a bedroom, and i'm slowly regaining stability!! :) I haven't been able to do much this year because of this whole mess and because i'm slow to getting use,, to life again idk if it makes sense; but i've been able to start seeing a therapist again! Next year i will try to do more, but i'm already proud of me

[heich0e]

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

[madelynn-sienna]

ms americana and the heartbreak prince (logan sargeant x reader)

[ navigation / requests / guidelines ]

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★ prompt : ❛❛ it's you and me, that's my whole world... ❜❜ ★ pairing : logan sargeant x reader ★ face claim : unnamed women on pinterest ★ genre : fluff and comfort ★ a/n : i wanted to release this yesterday but got a bit busy, but in light of william's announcement, i figured a happy, feel-good logan piece would be nice for fans of his out there (+ i feel really bad for him) 🥺 ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!

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f1 🚩 Red flag in FP3 at Circuit Zandvoort as Logan Sargeant suffers a huge crash. Thankfully the Williams driver is out of the car and reports that he is doing okay, but the same cannot be said for his car.

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user1 he's making williams bleed money.

user2 he is definitely bringing in more than he costs. user3 logan's been in what four crashes already? user4 he's made them lose at least $3 million in repair work.

user5 glad he's okay!!

user6 they need to fire him.

user7 exactly, logan isn't good enough to race in formula one user8 dude roscoe or leo could probably drive better than him user9 honestly, how does he have a job atp user10 petition to fire sargeant before monza

user11 why is he still here?

user12 right? the crash was so avoidable. user13 he should have been replaced over summer break.

user14 how does his guy have any fans?

user15 he doesn't user16 mainly just fangirls who like him for his looks user17 how does he still have a car or a team?

user18 just sack him honestly

user19 guys stop saying bad things about him, i can't like everything!

user20 you got me at the first half 😂

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liked by f1, alexalbon, oscarpiastri and others

williamsracing We'd like to thank Logan for his work over the past two seasons. He will continue as a member of the Williams family and we wish him all the best for his future endeavours.

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user1 good riddance

user2 right? how did that guy have a car for this long!? user3 i mean i can drive better than logan 😂 user4 that's not too difficult uk, just don't crash 👀

user5 well done williams!

user6 took them long enough to come to their senses user7 now that they have a good car, it really was time to sack him

user8 i feel so bad 💔

user9 thank god, he's just a financial liability

user10 bye bye 😊

user11 really was about time! user12 can't wait to see colapinto in the car user13 watch him make the points in his debut race user14 that'll be so embarrassing for sargeant user15 who cares?

user16 nooooooo 🦅 🇺🇸

user17 let's go franco colapinto 🇦🇷

user18 is this really a shock to anyone?

user19 i was counting down the days after zandvoort user20 i thought they'd sack him right after that fp3 crash!

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text exchanges between y/n & logan dated 27/08.

logansargeant added to their story.

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yourinstagram there's escape in escaping.

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lilyzneimer this is so cute 💖

user1 couple goals fr fr

user2 right? i need a logan in my life 🥺 user3 why so he can crash into you? man's jobless.

logansargeant a much needed break with my favourite person ❤️

yourinstagram you deserved every second of it! logansargeant thank you for making it so special, babe. logansargeant i'm still smiling 😊 yourinstagram awww, i love you more than words can describe 💕 logansargeant not as much as i love you, but nice try 😉 user4 why are they so adorable?!?

oscarpiastri i hope you two enjoyed france, it's a beautiful place!

user4 i'm sure they did 👀 yourinstagram we had a great time, got to visit annecy too. lilyzneimer they took our suggestion osc❣️

alexalbon been to france twice in less than two months 😮

logansargeant did it without the yacht this time dude. yourinstagram its logan's new favourite country 👀 user5 what happened to mr america?! logansargeant the betrayal babe 😢

user6 they're so cute together 🫶

user7 right? we love ms americana and her heartbreak prince💜

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liked by yourinstagram, carmenmmundt, jackdoohan and others

logansargeant Couldn't be prouder, dr. l/n 🎓 ❤️

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georgerussell congratulations y/n!

yourinstagram aww, this is so cute babe - i'm going to cry 🥺

logansargeant you deserve this moment so much ❤️ logansargeant i can't wait to watch you shine as a doctor 🤩

lilymhe such a beautiful graduation 💕

alexalbon where are my photo credits logan?!? congrats y/n

logansargeant you took one picture. alexalbon which you used! yourinstagram why do i sound like an afterthought alex 😢 alexalbon sorry? 😅 yourinstagram that sounds like a question, i'm heartbroken! alexalbon you're dramatic yourinstagram well, so are you. logansargeant presenting the drama king and queen, everyone. user1 i live for the alex and y/n banter! user2 right? they are so sibling-coded.

oscarpiastri we're so proud of you, y/n!

lilyzneimer ❤️

user3 excuse me, logan's girlfriend is a doctor?!?

user4 yeah, she graduated from oxford, she's like super smart! user5 i'm so happy for her tbh

user6 love how successful they both are rn!

user7 right? logan's doing amazing in indycar rn 🤩 user8 they're honestly living the american dream user9 after all the williams and f1 drama, i'm so deserve it

user10 it's giving miss americana

user11 so demure, so mindful user12 that trend's getting so old now 😭

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liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, lilyzneimer and others

yourinstagram It's you and me, that's my whole world 💍 🫶

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user1 oh. my. god.

user2 we're finally getting mr and mrs americana🤩 user3 i can't believe she'll be mrs sargeant soon!

lilyzneimer congratulations 💕

user4 just can't take the florida out of the man

user5 i was just about to comment that! user6 this is definitely in fort lauderdale user7 they met there, so it's probably really special <3

georgerussell can't wait for the wedding mate!

alexalbon can we take a minute to appreciate my help?

logansargeant shhhhh 👀 yourinstagram go on... lilymhe please, you literally did nothing alex alexalbon i did too, i let logan borrow the marquee letters! lilymhe you let him borrow two m's and a y user8 i live for lily roasting alex in the comments 😂

oscarpiastri congrats, just saying, i expect an invitation 🥺

yourinstagram the matchmaker gets a spot on the bridal party 👀 user9 oscar introduced y/n and logan?!? user10 don't be afraid to spill the story oscar, we're all waiting...

user11 this is going to be the wedding of the year!

user12 more like the century user13 of course, it's the royal american wedding 🦅 🇺🇸

user14 i'm so happy, this has been such a good year for them

user15 right? y/n's a doctor now and logan won rookie of the year user16 what a turnaround after his f1 career user17 counting the days till they're begging him to return user18 his replacements haven't even bagged any points 😂

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yourinstagram I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover...

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logansargeant you made me the luckiest man alive, mrs sargeant ❤️

logansargeant or should i say dr sargeant 👀 yourinstagram not as lucky as i am mr sargeant 💕 yourinstagram or should i say indycar drivers' champion 😉

oscarpiastri so happy for the two of you!

lilyzneimer what a beautiful wedding ❤️

user1 you can't just drop a whole wedding with no warning 😭

user2 right? like i'm going to need 2-3 days to recover user3 i love how they were able to keep a whole wedding hidden user4 exactly, i'm glad they got some privacy.

alexalbon and best man of the year goes to...

oscarpiastri me! alexalbon the lies, the outrage, we both know it was me 😮 oscarpiastri please. alexalbon y/n, logan, what's the verdict? yourinstagram i plead the fifth! logansargeant what she said. alexalbon traitors.

user5 y/n's the prettiest bride i've ever seen 💕

user6 and logan's the most handsome groom! user7 they really are a match made in heaven. user8 i'm so, so happy for them!

user9 these pictures are so cute

user10 definitely the wedding of the year 💖

user11 that dip is so extra, but we love it 💙

user12 presenting miss americana and her heartbreak prince!

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

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logansargeant I was enchanted to meet you❣️

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yourinstagram the best christmas gift ever ❤️

logansargeant absolutely, i couldn't have asked for anything more logansargeant thank you for giving me this opportunity darling 💕 yourinstagram couldn't have done it without you love 💖 alexalbon they may be all love dovey here, but that's all lies alexalbon y/n threatened logan so many times during labour 😂 lilymhe cut my girl some slack, you'll have a broken hand if you put me through that kind of pain 😠 alexalbon but babies? 🥺 user1 we all know who's sleeping on the sofa tonight...

oscarpiastri so who do we have a godfather in mind?

alexalbon we both know it's going to be me. oscarpiastri i'm just saying, i am more responsible alexalbon for the 100th time, i didn't lose my cousin oscarpiastri no, you just misplaced him in a massive crowd 👀 user2 i didn't know i needed alex and oscar banter in my life.

user3 awww, the baby is so adorable

user4 right? logan and y/n make such cute babies user5 i wonder what they've named the baby... user6 we all know it's going to be the most american name ever!

user7 congratulations!

georgerussell amazing news guys! can't wait to meet her 💕

estebanocon Félicitations à vous deux!

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

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logansargeant I am incredibly excited to announce that i'll be returning to formula one in the coming season to drive for Haas. I would like to thank Andretti for giving me three phenomenal seasons with IndyCar and two drivers championships. I wouldn't be here without your help and guidance. This a dream come true for me, and I cannot appreciate my wife enough for all the sacrifices she has made and love and support she has showered me with in the last seven years. I am who I am today because of her.

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yourinstagram so proud of you logan, i love you ❤️

logansargeant you mean the world to me, i love you so much 💕

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[skipper1331]

Loyalty and Love // Leah Williamson

warnings: dead family member

Leah was a gooner through and through, never been seen in a different club jersey than the arsenals as she was Arsenals biggest fan.

She went through all the youth team stages until she reached the senior team. Her body was full of loyalty to the club while your career path was very different - something Leah did not like about you.

Your career started at your hometown club near Bavaria, Germany, until FC Bayern München became aware of you. You were the only girl in the league and still scored the most goals. So to be fair, your actual club career started at the FC Bayern academy. You started there at the age of 10 and played there until the age of 16.

At 16 years old, you said good bye to Germany and played for Ajax in the Netherlands. You played two years for them and enjoyed every second with the Ajax family, yet after those two years, you transferred to AS Roma. You had many transfer offers, inside the league and outside of it but even though, you had transferred a few times already, you had one rule: never play in the same league with a different club. Roma sent you on loan to Olympique Lyon where you won the champions league and the league, each time as a key player of the team. OL offered you a real contract which you gladly signed - winning the treble. After three years in France, where you had learned a lot technical stuff but also had developed further as a person, it was time for a new challenge. A new club and country.

Spain was calling, FC Barcelona to be exact. After a teary good bye, you left for good - it was time to shine at Barcelona.

Your talent was magical, you could score from every angle, no matter the position and the fans loved you.

You had been nominated for numerous awards, won many of them yet still you were the kindest person. You always made time for the fans, signed jerseys, took photos and chatted with them. You were down-to-earth.

Of course you had haters, people not liking your volatility but you didn‘t care. You had a mission and would continue it, no matter if you had no fan at all or a the whole woso community behind you. So while your job was to score goals, you only had one goal in mind.

You loved the Spanish weather, you loved the City, you loved the girls. They made Barcelona your home and more than that. Playing alongside Alexia, Mapi, CGH, Aitana and literally every one on the squad was amazing. It was the way they played and the mentality they had that fascinated you.

The first season at Barcelona was the season you won the Ballon D‘or, while still being so young. The combination of the playing style that you learned in the individual clubs in each country also made you Fifas the best. You were the best.

On the pitch, every opponent was afraid of you while off pitch they adored you. It broke your heart to leave Barcelona, the City you adored. So why did you leave? It was the thing you had to do. The thing you promised yourself at the age of 16 when you left Bayern - Arsenal would be your last stop ever. The thing you promised someone. Your retirement club, you would stay there forever - as long as they offered you a contract.

-

While everybody had greeted you with open arms at your arrival, the skipper kept her distance, only talking to you when necessary. Leah was skeptical to say at least, some things bothered her about you. She didn‘t appreciate your transfers nor respected them. Every country? Really? Why Arsenal? Her childhood club? How long did you want to play here before you stab the team in the back? When another country became interesting? Maybe the US? Sweden?

And then the tape. The strip of tape on your shoulder, it didn‘t make any sense to her. It didn‘t seem like you had problems with your shoulder nor an injury in the last few years (which she had obviously checked) so why the tape? She - well actually everyone, never saw you without. When it slowly started to look rancid, the next second it looked like new again. When you changed, even in the shower after playing it was always there. Were you hiding something?

Leah didn‘t like you, it was clear as the day but (even if she would never admit it out loud) you were a fantastic footballer. Your feet could do magic with the ball, from assisting to scoring to defending, everything you did on the pitch was faboulous. That, she had to appreciate, maybe you would help Arsenal to win the league.

This season. who knows how long you‘ll stay.

-

After your first month with the gunners, you knew for sure, your heart and brain realized it for the first time: after years, you had finally fulfilled your promise.

You felt peace, nothing more. Maybe you could forgive yourself someday.

-

Over time, Leah‘s dislike towards you turned into much more - hate. When you were near the blonde, she would glare at you or leave the room,

the moments you tried to talk to her, to get to know her, she ignored you and

she would rudely comment on the things you said.

After months of trying, you just stopped. If she doesn‘t want to talk to you that‘s okay. You didn’t have to be friends - colleagues, that‘s it.

-

"When I visited Greece-" you started to tell Lia about the beauty of the country when her work wife cut you off, "wow, Y/L/N, a country you didn‘t play in, really respectable" Leah spat, rolling her eyes. Lia smacked the back of her head, her behavior unbelievable.

It was no secret that the defender felt some sort of dislike towards you - noticeable for your team mates and especially for the swiss as she knew Leah like the back of her hand.

"Ignore her" the midfielder stated, asking you to continue your story.

"It‘s fine" not in the mood to tell the end of your Greece-story, you left the two LW‘s joining Vic as she juggled with the ball.

"You really need to stop that" the swiss international grumbled, "she‘s actually really nice"

"And her loyalty sucks! I won’t let her ruin this club"

The brunette watched the blonde march away, arms crossed.

-

Leah‘s behavior continued like that, rude comments sent your way, cut off mid sentence and ignorance accompanied you every single day. But your mindset was clear: you couldn’t be bothered by her.

You understood that Leah was skeptical of you, you‘re new and played for several clubs but on the pitch you played your absolute best each game. You deserved at least some respect.

-

"Where‘s hopper?" Leah asked - you’re never late. Her new nickname for you showed her antipathy towards you yet hiding it well enough, so other people outside of the team wouldn’t get suspicious.

"She‘s on her way home for a few days" Lia replied calmly, not wanting the blonde to explode.

You had texted Lia about your plans earlier this morning - she was your friend after all. Just because she was great friends with Leah, didn‘t mean you couldn’t be friends with her too. Like I said, you were friends with the whole team, just not with Leah. Besides you enjoyed talking to Wally as it was in your mother tongue, conversation flowing with an ease.

"What the fuck?! She does know we‘re playing a derby this weekend!" The England captain growled, marching out of the changing room, already calling you. Who do you think you were?

Her calls went straight to voicemail which only angered and frustrated her more. why were you so infuriating?

The defender was quick to approach to Jonas - what was the thinking letting you leave? Did he even know about this?

"Why did you let her leave?!" the woman asked loudly and harshly. You made her blood boil. "Is she playing on Saturday? You should kick her out of the squad! This behavior is unacceptable" she scolded.

Even though Leah knew the team would need you, she was too caught up in her anger.

"Who are you talking about?" the coach asked rather confused. Was he missing something?

"Your new signing" she huffed out frustrated, how can he be this clueless?

"She‘s not here. Apparently at home in Germany, did you know about this?"

"Oh! Yes, I know about this. It‘s in her contract"

"What do you mean? In her contract?"

"She‘s allowed to leave, no matter what day, at-" he looked at his watch, checking the date, "at the 20th of March for three days. One day to get there, one day to stay, one day to leave" he explained.

"Why?"

"I can’t tell you that"

-

On game day, you arrived on time at the stadium, your favourite defender already impatiently waiting for you in the locker room. When you entered the room, she was about to stomp over, telling you how your behavior was unacceptable and jeopardizing the team but something told her not to. Your shoulders were sagged, your eyes red and puffy as you had bags under them ad well - it looked like you had been crying for awhile and not sleeping either. You looked small and sad, but not the sadness-sad, somehow it looked like grieving-sad or guilty-sad. Leah didn't know if her analysis was correct, after all, she didn't know you as you weren’t friends - not even close to that - and to the others it seemed like you were your usual self.

As you walked past her to get to your cubby, she grabbed your hand. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned about your well-being. Her stone cold persona towards you was gone for the moment, eyes scanning your face - what was wrong? How can she help you?

"I‘m fine, Leah"

Her hand had a firm grip on yours yet it was so gentle and soft - it was almost like you could feel her 'caring' about you.

But you knew, she only cared about the team and not about you.

"Thank you for asking, though" you smiled a bit, before leaving her touch and walking over to your cubby.

You didn't want to be rude to her because it seemed like she was dead serious about her question. Besides, if you wanted to have at least a somewhat normal work-relationship with her, this might was a step in the right direction.

However, you had to admit, the feeling of her holding your hand was quite nice and made you hope for eventually being friends one day.

-

The game started with you on the bench as agreed with Jonas. It was his decision if he wanted to put you in or not and you respected either way. You were thankful enough that he had shown so much understanding about your family situation, so you wouldn’t be the one to complain about not playing.

Next to you on the bench sat the one and only Leah Williamson, who watched the game very carefully, attentively and critically - the same as you did. In your heads, the two of you analyzed what happened on the field, every bad pass, every unused space or loss of the ball was noted while you tried to come up with solutions. While Leah stated her analysis to everyone at half time, you talked to the relevant person what they should pay particular attention to - most opponents had the same playing style, even if the tactics were changed. Overall, it wasn't the played game in general that mattered, but rather the individual players on the field. If you watched them long enough, it wasn't too difficult to outplay them and their team - Leah and you knew that.

Both of you got subbed on in the 74th minute, the defender doing her job brilliantly while you ran down the wing. The game seemed like it had shifted as soon as the two of you took in your positions. Chances were created, space was used, passed connected perfectly - in all honestly, Tottenham didn‘t have any control over the match anymore, thanks to Leah and your critical eyes.

The score changed when Leah sent a ball flying towards you. With one quick motion, you dribbled around the defender, firing a shot on goal - Tottenhams goalkeeper stood no chance.

That evening a special chemistry was born between your favourite defender and her favourite hopper.

-

If you were hoping that the 'how are you' question meant something, you were wrong.

Her arrogant attitude got worse, as did her mean behavior towards you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, the link up on the pitch earned you enough respect that she at least refrains from commenting. Yet she questioned everything you did and not only that: you were regularly asked whether you would leave the club at the end of the season or whether you would leave one season after that. At this point you felt helpless, you didn’t know what her problem was with you - she seemed like a nice person towards everyone else.

"Come on, Leah, leave me alone" you grumbled as she stood next to you in the locker room with her arms crossed. Especially today she was getting on your last nerve. You hadn‘t slept well the last few days and the bickering was getting more and more exhausting.

"You weren‘t concentrated today" she stated, "this isn‘t acceptable at Arsenal."

"Leah-" Wally tried to stop her but there was no chance. She wouldn’t hold back.

"No, she has to know. She‘s played at enough clubs to know that she has to give 100%!"

"As if you haven‘t had a bad day before"

"I can keep things professional"

"No you can‘t! If you could, you would leave me the fuck alone. You are all judgy but never played somewhere else than Arsenal, so get a fucking grip. At least I have the experience of other leagues"

The whole changing room gasped, Katie smirking, happy that you stood your ground. Leah’s behavior was ridiculous. And this time she took it too far.

On an emotional level, your week had been absolutely shitty.

It‘s like a haunted house, only you‘re the ghost.

On an physical level, you were exhausted.

So, neither emotionally nor physically you could deal with her at the moment.

"Watch your mouth-" the defender started before you cut her off.

"No, you will watch yours" your pointer finger angrily poked her chest, "Listen to me closely, I will not repeat myself. You, Leah Williamson, will stay away from me. I‘m not your friend, I’m not your mate, I’m your colleague, so treat me with damn respect" with that you grabbed your stuff and left.

Leah was breathing heavily, your anger awfully attractive.

"Why are you being like this?" McCabe asked, the girls in the room waiting for an answer. This couldn’t be just because you played for several clubs and she was questioning your loyalty - there had to be more.

"Because she‘s hiding something! I won‘t let her ruin this club" she growled, sitting down in her cubby.

"What should she be hiding?" Steph questioned, you seemed like an honest and truthful person.

"She literally left for three days out of nowhere!"

"She did that when we played at Barca together too" Laia added. She had never thought about that before. But Leah was right, it was unusual to not show up at training when you weren‘t injured or sick, especially since it was in the middle of the season.

"See!"

"I still don’t see the problem" Steph shrugged her shoulders, "she‘s a lovely person and you would know that if you gave her the chance to show it" with that the Australian left. You were such a lovely girl, at least someone had to defend you. Partly, Steph could understand where Leah was coming from - that girl was bleeding Arsenal red.

After Steph had left, the other girls started to leave too, Leah and Kim the only ones left.

Leah was sorting through her bag, checking if she had everything she needed when Kim broke the silence, "Her brother died when she was 16. The 21st of March is the day of his death"

Leah stopped her movements, "what?" she turned around, the colour leaving her face.

"That’s all I know"

Kim grabbed her bag, walking past the blonde, about to leave, "I’m disappointed in you, Leah. We're a family here, and you didn't show her that. Have you ever thought about why she played in every league? You’re criticizing but not questioning. You doubt her loyalty, but she hasn't transferred within the league - doesn't that show her respect for the club she‘s played at?"

"Kim-"

"Have a nice evening"

Alone in the changing room, Leah tried to process the information, now it made sense that you were at home for a few days. It was his anniversary.

She had been a complete ass to you without knowing your story - she still didn't. However, for the first time she felt something like interest. She wanted to get to know you. She wanted to know your story. But most of all she wanted to apologize. You seemed like a sweet girl.

Of course, most of her questions were still unanswered: the tape? Why did you transfer so much? You‘re young.. but for the first time she didn't care. She fucked up and was determined to start over.

I‘m disappointed in you, Leah.

-

At home, the defender sat on her couch, eating some food while the tv was showing her favourite show. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t wait till tomorrow. She had to talk to. Now.

Leaving her food on the table, the blonde called Lia, asking where you lived. The Swiss was hesitant to tell her as she wanted to protect you but Leah sounded genuinely upset about her own behavior.

"Please.. I- I‘m in the wrong here, I know that now. I don‘t want her to go to bed angry or feeling like she‘s not a part of the Arsenal family."

After that, the Swiss texted your address, the England captain already on her way.

When she arrived at her destination, she felt nervous. She rang the bell, hoping you wouldn’t open. She wasn‘t prepared at all - she didn’t know what to say or how to make things up with you.

In that moment, she realized maybe it was a hasty decision to just show up in front of your door and apologize. It wouldn’t be deserved to accept the apology straightaway.

"Leah?" you said surprised.

"Hopper" it was almost inaudible as you had knocked the air out of her lungs. You looked breathtaking. No, it wasn‘t something fancy - you wore an oversized shirt and some shorts while your hair was down but you looked naturally beautiful.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone"

"I- um.. I came to apologize?"

"Are you asking me that?"

"I came to apologize"

"Go home, Leah-"

"Give me a chance-"

"No. Look, I don’t know why you are here or what your problem is but I don‘t want to play your sick games" you stepped back, closing the door, leaving the defender dumbfounded in front of your home.

"I know about you brother!" she called, helpless on what do to. But as soon as the word 'brother' left her mouth, she regretted it.

The door was thrown open, "what did you just say?!" you were angrier than ever. Your family had always been a sensitive subject.

"I know about your brother" the audacity Leah had to repeat her words was unbelievable.

She squeezed herself inside, looking around.

"I swear to god, if you don‘t leave-"

"I‘m really sorry" she turned around, you didn‘t know if she was talking about your brother or how she had treated you and neither did she. Either way, it made you furios, you were balling your hands into fists, trying to stay calm.

"Is that him?" she asked, walking to the picture frame on your shelf, "what‘s his name?"

It was a picture of the two of you as kids, both of you wearing Germany jerseys as you grinned in the camera - one of your favourite pictures.

And that made you explode. How dare she come to your home, implying to apologize which she wasn‘t and then act nosy.

You marched over, grabbing her at the collar of her shirt and pushing her against the wall, "leave me alone" you weren’t shouting but you voice was loud, clear and firm, almost intimidating.

Her breath hitched, "I can‘t" you were so close to her. She could see all tiny freckles, those which only appeared when you were in the sun. She was intrigued by you. Her eyes darted around your features, the wrinkle between your brows slowly disappearing.

You didn‘t know what came over you, but in less than a second, you smashed your lips against hers. Teeth were clashing, all anger and frustration purred in, hands gripping and pulling as both of your minds went blank. Neither of you could think about anything else but each other.

-

The day she stood in front of your apartment, wasn’t brought up again yet you had to admit something shifted in your dynamic that night.

The chemistry you had on the pitch only grew, Leah assisted while you scored countless of goals.

Her behavior wasn‘t as bad as before anymore, she started to greet you, say good bye or other acts of kindness yet every once in a while a snarky comments left her mouth.

After Arsenal had won the conti cup against Chelsea, the celebrations were on the rise when you entered the club. You saw some girls dancing around, some lingering at the bar and others sitting at the table.

You joined the girls at the table, sitting down next to Stina. Lost in conversation with the Swede you didn‘t notice a blonde defender standing right behind you with her arms crossed and a pout on her face, "you‘re sitting on my seat, hopper" she grumbled, the pout increasing.

"Sit somewhere else" you replied, not looking up as you continued your conversation which had been rudely cut off by the English woman.

"There is no seat left"

This time you turned around, looking up from your seat as the defender glared at you.

It was the first time, you had seen her tonight and she looked absolutely gorgeous with the outfit she was wearing.

"I think you‘re old enough to deal with that, aren‘t you?" you smiled sarcastically at her, once again turning to Stina.

"I am" she stated, a smug smile plastered on her face. With the alcohol in her system, she simply sat on your lap, one arm going around your shoulders while she started her own conversation. Weirdly confused but somehow not minding, you let her be, your arms going around her waist to support her. No one said anything about, most of them not realizing what was happening or simply not caring - as long as you weren‘t fighting everything seemed fine.

The night continued like that, chatting, dancing and enjoying the time.

"Could you let me get up, please? I‘d like to have another drink" you asked the defender who immediately got up, "can you bring one for me too?"

"Sure"

She smiled shyly before you left, sitting back down, Lia looking at her with a 'tell me right now what‘s going on' expression.

"What?"

"Seriously? What‘s going on between the two of you?" the Swiss asked, Leah‘s eyes already back on you as you stood at the bar, ordering.

"Nothing"

The defender’s brows furrowed when a man approached you, standing way too close to you, her jaw clenching.

She saw you taking a step to the side, intending to signal the man that you were not interested. In responds, he only stepped closer.

Angrily, the blonde stood up, marching over, "is everything alright here?" her hands settled on your waist, pulling you protectively towards her.

"Everything‘s alright, mate" the man slurred, stepping forward, "I’m just getting to know your friend."

Leah was quick to step in front of you, her hand holding onto you to know you‘re safe, "leave my girlfriend alone or I will break your nose" she threatened.

The man held his hands in surrender before he left.

In an instant, she turned around, cupping your cheeks, checking if you were alright.

"I‘m okay" you stated. What just happened? Girlfriend? Weird man? Break his nose? Girlfriend?

"Here‘s your drink"

She took her drink, resting her hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the table.

What‘s just happened?

Lia was the only one left at the table while the others had joined the dancers. You were about to sit down on an empty chair when the blonde pulled you on her lap - roles reversed.

Raising an brow, "There are enough empty seats this time"

"I don’t care, hopper"

"I‘ll join the rest on the dancing floor" Wally said, winking at Leah whose cheeks turned red.

"You‘re so beautiful, you know" the England captain said, cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

"How many drinks did you have?" you giggled, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along the back of neck. "Not enough to punch that guy" she growled.

You laughed, "you‘re cute when you‘re jealous" not so sober yourself.

She squeezed your hips in responds, resting her head on your shoulder.

Both of you enjoyed the silence that came over you, also enjoying the closeness you shared in that moment. Leah wasn‘t forgiven and she knew that yet she couldn’t stay away from you. Somehow you were addicting.

For once, it was nice not to argue with the blonde but to enjoy her company. She was cute, you couldn’t lie.

"I‘m very sorry for my behavior" she whispered, "I’d like to start over again" you turned towards her, eyes locking, "I’m not asking for your forgiveness, just for a chance to show you that I’m not an awful person. You are a part of the Arsenal family and I’m sorry for treating you otherwise"

You let her words sink in. She was right, she couldn’t ask for your forgiveness because too much had happened already but starting over seemed like an opportunity for the both of you.

"I’m Y/N"

-

The next weeks, Leah was the sweetest person to you. Each morning, she greeted you with the widest smile and when she left the facility, she always made sure to tell you good bye. She treated you with respect and listened to everything you had to say. She was amazed by the stuff you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was something as simple as your favourite colour or an opinion on something. Everything you said was important to her.

Soon the small talks turned into longer conversations until they were endless.

In matches, when somebody fouled you Leah was the first to stick up for you, arguing with the opponent before she argued with the ref (of course after she had made sure you were okay.)

Slowly but surely, Leah earned your trust and appreciation.

She wasn‘t just anybody - she was Leah Williamson and once she had set her mind, you couldn’t stop her from doing it.

She wasn‘t the Leah you had met at your arrival - she changed for good. She was much more. She was funny, loving and caring, attentive and respectful - she was actually an amazing woman and your friend.

-

Standing in the kitchen of Leah’s apartment, you made dinner for the both of you while she sat on the counter watching you and eating the ingredients.

The atmosphere was tranquil and relaxed as music filled the background.

Peace.

"His name‘s Sebastian" you turned around, grabbing another ingredient out of the fridge while you avoided Leah‘s eyes, painful stings in your heart. You wouldn‘t cry, not now. "He‘s three years older than me" you inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself as you continued to cook. "You would have loved him, he was a big Arsenal fan, watched every match" you chuckled, "but was the worst player of all time. He never really was a sports guy anyway, he was rather the calm type of person. He loved to cook - that‘s actually one of his favourite recipes" you nodded your head towards the food splayed out on the counter.

The dish you were making had brought you so much comfort after his death. It felt familiar. Sometimes, you imagined him standing in the kitchen, so concentrated that his brows would furrow as he cut the vegetables or when he seasoned - never a drop too much. He was very particular when it came to cooking, but rightly so, because when he did it, it always tasted absolutely perfect.

"He used to be my best friend"

Your heart broke into pieces saying it out loud. He wasn‘t just anybody - he was your brother, the only man you ever loved and him more than anyone.

The two of you had a special bond, you basically owed him your entire career. Because it was him who kicked the ball around with you for hours,

because it was him who drove with you to training when your parents had to work,

because it was him who always watched your matches,

because it was him who always believed in you, even when you were on the verge of giving up.

He was your biggest supporter, the person who believed you could be the best footballer in the world one day and the one person who made sure that you had a life outside of football.

And even though you would have never shared your charger with him, you would have given him your lungs, so he could breathe.

"What happened to him?" Leah asked, her voice gentle, testing the waters if it was okay to ask or too much.

"When-" you closed your eyes, holding back the tears that were about to fall, "I was at a birthday party. At some point during the night I asked him to pick me up because I wasn't feeling well. He did it without hesitation. On the way home we- we got hit by a car and crashed into a tree. Both of us were conscious but he was coughing and bleeding very badly. It looked very bad. I prayed to every god I knew that they should take me and not him- they didn‘t listen" tears were streaming down your face as you aggressively cut the remaining vegetables, "his last words were 'make me proud' and i remember shouting at him but it was too late. I told him I loved him- he took his last breath with a smile on his face"

Silence filled the room, small sniffles the only thing being heard. You grabbed a tissue, blowing your nose and another one to dry your tears, "I am- was blaming myself for what happened, so I left home as soon as I could"

Leah was listening carefully, her heart aching seeing you in pain and the pain you had been through.

"I always complained about others leagues, because they seemed so easy and everything" you chuckled at the memory, "and he always was like 'you can‘t complain if you haven‘t played there'" mocking him, the most german accent in your voice, "so that’s what I did. I have played in several leagues but I always knew Arsenal would be my last stop"

Everything made sense now, Leah‘s heart broke even more, realizing what an absolute ass she was while you only had one goal in mind - to make him proud.

It was never your plan to ruin Arsenal, you wanted to stay there to fulfill the promise you had made in the night that changed your life.

-

Leah saw you with different eyes now, her heart was beating for you in more than one way. She admired you - for the way you play, how strong you are and how hard life had been for you yet still smiling throughout it.

She had to protect the ray of sunshine and the feisty beast you could be. You weren‘t just anybody - you were Y/N Y/L/N, the best footballer in the world.

The defender was a 100% sure, your brother would be more than proud of you and the woman you became.

But she also knew what she had to do. You deserved an apology, even more than that - you deserved every good thing in the world. And if she could she would take all your pain away.

-

It was in the middle of the night, all lights turned off besides in the kitchen of the blonde defender. She sat at the kitchen table, one sheet of paper and a fountain pen in front of her.

Dear Sebastian,

I’m Leah, Leah Williamson.

I've been playing for Arsenal my whole life. I've had my best and worst moments at the club. All of my best moments had to do with my team, my friends, my family, whereas my worst moments had something to do with my performance or injuries. Unfortunately, because of my loyalty and love for the club, I was blinded from seeing the important things - your sister. I never understood why she had transferred so often - it seemed like she was volatile and didn't understand loyalty and love. But she does - she does that more than anyone else.

Her loyalty was only ever dedicated to you.

She is an incredible person and I’m so sorry for the way i treated her at her arrival (I will tell her that, this time when I’m fully sober and explain everything). But I’m writing you to tell you that I like your sister, more than I ever thought I would. To be honest, that‘s the first time I’m admitting it to someone, I didn‘t even admit it fully to myself - but I do. I like her. And I guess, this is me asking for your blessing.

A blessing that I can treat her right if she lets me,

a blessing that I can always support her,

a blessing for one chance with her.

I know, there is much too make up for and my behavior will never be excused - no apology could be strong enough for what I have done - but I want you to know that I will regret it till the rest of my life.

So while you may be her biggest fan from paradise, I want to be her biggest fan from earth.

I promise to do everything in my power to be the best person she deserves.

Sincerely,

Leah Williamson

With a lighter in her pocket and the letter in her hand, she went outside on the balcony. The night was chill and quiet, the perfect atmosphere as the moon shone brightly. Her nerves were calming down and her mind seemed to find rest as she looked up in the sky, "one chance" she whispered, burning the letter. She watched the ink and paper slowly disappear, the smoke rising into the night sky. She knew it was unrealistic to expect any sign of positive responds but was it wrong to hope? When the letter was fully burned, she waited till the smoke was completely gone before she went back inside, turning off the kitchen light and making her way to bed.

When the blonde woke up the next day, she made her way to kitchen immediately, needing her morning tea. She frowned and froze.

"Hello?" she called.

No response.

She had turned off the light last night, didn‘t she?

She sure did!

Was this her sign? Was this the sign that the letter arrived?

It was his blessing.

-

"Hey" the blonde greeted you with a wide smile when you entered the changing room.

Matching her smile, "good morning" you walked to your cubby.

"What are you doing tonight?" she followed you, the smile not leaving her features. Someone woke up in a good mood, you thought.

"Going home, eating, then sleeping" you replied.

"Do you want to watch the Arsenals men game tonight? With me?"

"Are you nervous?" you asked, the defender fidgeting with her fingers as her cheeks were slowly turning red, "I’d love to watch the match with you."

And if you thought her smile couldn’t have gotten wider, you were wrong - the smile she sent you was from ear to ear.

"Perfect" with excitement in her body, she pressed a peck to your cheek before she happily skipped out of the room, the other girls watching the interaction that just happened closely.

"Are you blushing?" Katie laughed loudly as you embarrassingly turned to your bag, in fact blushing.

-

Half an hour before kick-off you rang Leah‘s doorbell, takeout in your hands. You weren‘t in the mood for cooking and Leah‘s cooking skill were eh, e for effort?, also you had been craving Chinese all day long, so that‘s what you got.

"I brought food with me!" you grinned, pushing yourself inside as soon as the blonde had opened the door.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she asked chuckling at your eagerness as you walked in her kitchen to get some plates and cutlery.

Cheekily, you replied "Nothing, I was just hungry"

Serving the food on the plates, you sat down at the table with Leah, comfortable silence filling the air while the two of you ate dinner.

Something was bothering Leah though, you could tell. Every now and then it seemed like she wanted to say something yet she closed her mouth quickly after.

"I‘m sorry for my behavior" she mumbled, "when you arrived at Arsenal, I mean" you looked up from your plate, meeting her eyes for a brief second, "I was skeptical about your loyalty and it got out of hand" carefully she laid her hand on yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull away.

You didn‘t - you wanted to hear what she had to say.

"I‘m really sorry and I know we started over, but I need you to know how sorry I am, this time without any drink in my system. You’re the most loyal person I know, I just didn‘t notice it"

"Leah" you said gently, "look at me, please"

The defender raised her head, looking at you with unsure eyes, rapidly tapping her foot under the table.

"Thank you for telling me. I guess I would have been skeptical too if I had played for the gunners my whole life" you told her, "I’m not excusing your behavior because it wasn‘t nice or appropriate but I don‘t have any bad blood against you either. In fact, I enjoy your company" you pulled her hand from hers, only to put it against her side profile, softly caressing the apple of her cheek.

Subconsciously, she leaned into your touch, "I‘m very sorry"

"I know"

The unspoken 'why' barrier was finally removed.

-

"Arsenal will win, I can feel it!" the defender stated, flopping down on the couch. With a bowl of popcorn in your hand, you sat down next to her, somehow your thighs touching even though the couch was big enough. "Liverpool is a tough opponent"

"Oh stop it! None of that"

Making herself comfortable on the couch, she turned on the tv, ready to see Arsenal win.

Getting comfortable yourself, you pulled your legs on the couch, leaning towards the armrest on the other side which earned you a glare, "what do think you‘re doing?"

"Oh, sorry" in an instant your feet were on the ground.

"No, what are you doing over there? Come here" she nodded to the space between her legs, signaling you to cuddle her.

With red cheeks and a racing heart, you crawled over, settling between her legs as your body melted into hers, head resting on her chest while her arms wrapped around you.

Leah was sure you could hear her racing heart and even though she desperately tried to concentrate on the match, she just couldn’t. With you in her arms, she wouldn’t ever want to think about anything else. You looked so precious in her arms, eyes fully focused on the tv.

"You are so beautiful" she admired, looking at you with heart eyes.

"What?"

You prompted yourself up, looking at the blonde who was smiling dazedly at you, "you are just so gorgeous" her fingers started to play with your hair as she got lost in your eyes, "let me take you on a date"

It was crazy how the mood had changed - from apologies at dinner to cuddling on the couch to asking you out.

"Okay" you smiled shyly, cheeks crimson red as your skin tingled.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

You stared at each other, eyes shining with adoration and passion, both of you slowly leaning in.

When your lips met, the world seemed to stop spinning, fireworks exploding as you melted into each other and Arsenal getting themselves on the scoreboard. She kissed you so gentle and tender - the complete opposite of the kiss you had shared before.

Everything was perfect.

-

After many many dates, the blonde asked you to be her girlfriend. None of your friends surprised at this point - you had always been obsessed with each other.

The two of you had been caught kissing several times, not even trying to hide it. Leah loved kissing you but she also loved physical touch in general, always holding your hand, having her arm around your midsection or her hand on your thigh while driving. She couldn’t get enough of you.

-

"Come to bed" the blonde whined, waiting for you to join her under the covers. Weirdly, neither of you could sleep good at night without being in each others embrace, so it became your routine - either Leah would sleep at your home or the other way around - this night you were at Leah‘s, and obviously you had stolen a shirt from her wardrobe as your pajamas - which she liked very much. You looked so cute in her clothes.

When you joined her, her arms were immediately wrapped around your body as she pulled you close, pressing a good night kiss on your temple.

The next morning, you woke up with hair in your face and a head resting on your chest, the blonde defender still peacefully asleep. You stayed like that for awhile, your hand gently rubbing her back before you slipped out of bed, ready to make some breakfast and your much needed coffee.

Since it was the weekend and your day off, you decided to surprise the England captain with some self made pancakes - you knew she loved them.

While Leah woke up due the feeling of your absence which turned out to be correct, something she didn‘t like. Sleeping without you was awful already but waking up without you? absolutely horrible.

Grumpily, she made her way out of the bedroom, the smell of pancakes hitting her nostrils, lightening her mood in an instant. Following the smell, she found you in the kitchen, only wearing a sports bra and some of her old Arsenal shorts - you looked cute - booping your head to the non existing music, no doubt that you were humming some song. Silently, the defender walked up behind you, her arms smacking around your stomach, "gosh, you scared me!"

"Sorry, baby" apologetic, she pressed multiple kisses on the side of your neck, fingers tracing along your sides.

You inhaled sharply when she traced along the stripe of tape on your shoulder, she had never brought it up before, respecting whatever story was behind it.

"You- you can take it off" you whispered breathlessly, anxiety and fear creeping through your body.

"Are you sure?" her lips kissed the other side of your shoulder, trying to calm you down and ease your mind.

"Yes, just- be careful, please"

and that’s exactly what she was. All of her moves were gentle and careful - you weren’t afraid that it would hurt pulling the tape off but the story behind it.

After the tape was ripped off a big scar was displayed on your shoulder, "it‘s from the car crash" you said, pain shooting through the healed wound. It wasn‘t an injury pain rather the type of phantom pain - suddenly you were back in the car.

"It‘s a constant reminder of what had happened - something that‘s my fault" you admitted, fighting the tears, "I started to cover it up but make up didn‘t work, so the physio at Ajax taped it. And since that day, I do it all the time"

Leah‘s heart broke at the vulnerability she was seeing, your posture seemingly weak and exposed.

"Is this okay?" Her pointer finger traced over the scar..

"Yeah"

..not in a way that made you uncomfortable but in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to be ashamed of it.

"What about this?" for a moment you didn‘t feel her touch at all before she pressed featherlight kisses over your scar.

"yes"

Tears were streaming down your face, all of your walls broken down now, Leah made you feel perfect the way you are - because you are.

"I‘m proud of you"

Everything came crashing down, a sob escaped your throat and within a second, you were in your girlfriends arms, crying into her shoulder. The tears that you had not allowed to shed in previous years, fell all at once now.

The England captain hugged you through it all, letting you cry as long as you needed - she wouldn‘t go anywhere.

She had promised your brother to do everything in her power to be the best person you deserve and that‘s what she did, does and will do.

She kept her promise and you did too.

Arsenal was always half but never whole, Leah‘s begun to feel like home.

[gguk-n]

Grand Prix Morning (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Congratulations Oscar on his first win!!

Summary- After watching the Hungarian GP and seeing Oscar apologise after his first win, you wish you could make him feel special and that he deserved it. So, you go to bed and wake up on the day of the GP!

{Reader's POV}

I wasn't sure if I should be happy or sad right now. Oscar Piastri just won his first race in Formula One and in his second season. That was such a proud moment until you remember the actual shit McLaren pulled on their drivers. I had been watching the race today, Oscar was pretty good in the beginning and being his fan I obviously hoped that this was the race he finally got his first win. But after the pit stop and Lando leading I didn't think possible; until I heard the radio message. I had mixed feelings. I rejoiced watching Oscar cross the chequered flag. But then I heard his message, apologising. It broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. But what could I do? My voice would be a tiny whisper in the sea. I shut my TV off, not in the mood to watch any of the post race stuff; because I felt bad for Lando too. I couldn't bear sitting through the interviews. So, I made myself some dinner, watched a rom-com to get my mind of things and went to bed, earlier than usual. I would deal with my emotions tomorrow.

Now when you normally sleep, you expect to wake up in your own bed, as an adult at least. When you were kids, that was a different story. My eyes were adjusting to the dimly lit room and a figure in front of me, walking around the room as quietly as possible. The room looked like a hotel room and the figure in front of me was Oscar Piastri. "Oscar" I said out loud. "baby, did I wake you up?" he asked like a deer caught in headlight. "No" I replied tentatively. Was this a dream? Was I this sad that this is how I was coping? "What's the time?" I asked reaching for the lamp. "It's 6 am. I'm gonna get some exercise done before I head to the paddock" he said while tying up his shoe lace. "I'll come with you when you leave for the paddock" I stated; scared to be alone where ever I was. "Sure babe" he replied, striding up to my side of the bed, leaning down and leaving a peck on my lips before whispering a bye against my lips and heading out.

My brain had short circuited. Oscar Piastri kissed me and called me terms of endearment. This has to be a dream but those pink lips were so real, warm and slightly dry and peeling. The way his hand cupped my cheek when he pecked me, the warmth still lingering against my skin. I reached for my phone to check what weekend it was; to my surprise it was the Hungarian Grand Prix today. The race Oscar won, maybe I'm here to wrong the right. I quickly showered and got dressed. If I got to be a WAG even for a day, I was gonna enjoy it. I wore a pretty coral midi dress. As I sat there in the room waiting for Oscar to return, a smile etched on my face as I went through my gallery.

We had been dating for a while, since his F2 days. He was all the bit romantic as I imagined him to be. My parents loved him, his parents loved me. This felt like a fairytale. There was one problem, Oscar would probably know that I was someone else and not his 'girlfriend'. I don't know how this version of me acted. The jig would be up so soon.

Oscar walked through the room, all sweaty and red from the work out. "Lemme shower and then we'll get breakfast" he said not even looking up while taking his shoes off. The moment his eyes travelled up from my legs to my face, a smirk plastered across his face. "You look gorgeous" he said almost breathless. I couldn't help but giggle. "You look hot" I replied. "Only for you" he shrugged. I felt the heat rise up from my cheeks. "Can't believe I can still get you this flustered, even after so many years" he smiled with amusement. I got up from where I was sat, "You'll get me flustered even when I'm an old lady" I muttered. "That's the plan" he grinned.

A freshly showered Oscar was proving to be the bane of my existence like out of the gym Oscar was. I wanted to jump him, but it didn't feel right and I wasn't taking advantage of him like this. The way to the paddock was filled with casual talk. Who knew Oscar could talk. At the paddock, we greeted the other drivers and fans we saw along the way. The McLaren hospitality was bustling with both pole and P2 starts were McLaren's. I tried to speak to their race engineers to gauge the strategy but I wasn't allowed. I even tried to talk to Lando and Oscar about the race, but they were busy discuss the details amongst themselves to pay much attention. I spent the majority of my time trying to figure out what I was supposed to do to change the scenario. I wanted Oscar to win but not with the mess McLaren created.

As the race progressed, like I had watched it play out. I realised, I wasn't meant to change the process or outcome. I was just here because I hoped and prayed to be able to comfort Oscar and celebrate his win like I hoped he was supposed to enjoy his first win. I watched McLaren fuck it up whilst I stood there next to him. I heard Oscar apologise for the second time, shattering my heart again. I rushed to see Oscar with the staff in tow. Oscar got out of the car and looked around, our eyes met. He came running with his helmet in hand, "I won" he whispered, only for me to hear. "I saw" I replied with tears in my eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You've come so far Oscar. You're the Hungarian Grand Prix winner, don't apologise for your win whatever it may be" I whispered. Oscar's face inches from mine, his eyes glistening with tears at what I said, "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N" he said out loud while wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me in for a kiss. The kiss was a mixture of tears and sweat, since the two of us had started crying. I cupped his cheeks, deepening the kiss, our emotions were all over the place. "Go and get your trophy, I'll wait for you" I said while pulling away from the kiss. "Be right back" he grinned and left to get weighed.

The podium celebration was bitter sweet, but I was not gonna let this over shadow his win and do what I was here for. I quickly got flowers delivered to the hotel and some sweets. I waited for Oscar to be done with the media and stuff while scrolling through my phone. The discourse was on another level, but the pictures of me and Oscar kissing were circulating every where. I wish I could take this back with me. Oscar's mum called and we were on the phone for a while. My parents called us to congratulate him as well. It felt so weird to hear Oscar was my boyfriend.

Oscar found me in his drivers room. "There's my grand prix winner" I stated. Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me up in the process. My hands stabilised myself on his shoulders. "I'm so happy we got to celebrate this together" he mumbled against my skin. "Me too" I muttered. "By the way, your mum called. You should talk to her later" I said urging Oscar to put me down. "Are you angry with me?" he asked, placing me on the ground. "What? no" I replied. "You've been calling me Oscar or nothing at all the whole day. I didn't think much of it before but now you said your mum when you normally say mum" I was caught off guard, "It's nothing like that" I tried to diffuse the situation. "My mum texted me too about your win and yours called. I just wanted to clarify" I said. "Oh" he hummed. "Now, let's go. Let's have a Oscar Piastri worthy celebration" I continued. "Like what" he asked. "Dinner in bed and a movie of your choosing." I answered. "Finally, I get to choose." he laughed.

We got back to the hotel, where there were quite a few flowers. I may have gone over board. We entered the room which looked like a botanical garden at this point. Oscar smiled taking the scene in. "For me" he whispered. "For you" I whispered back. "I wanted to show you how much I love you and how proud of you I was. This is just a small token of my happiness Osc" I said. "You're the reason Lando calls me Osc. Find a new nickname. I don't like sharing it with him. But thank you for this" he remarked. "Sure darling" I announced. He walked through smelling all the flowers. We spent the rest of the night watching a movie Oscar had picked and eating our hearts content.

I was scared to fall asleep, what if I woke up back where I was supposed to be. What if this 'reality' ceased to exist? As my eyes got heavy, keeping them open was a task. Oscar had started succumbing to sleep having switched the TV off. "Thank you for making my day even more special then it was." He mumbled. "Thank you for letting me show how loved and appreciated you are. I love you Oscar. Today, tomorrow and always." I whispered kissing his forehead; letting sleep take me. If I woke up back in my world, so be it. At least I made Oscar's day.

When my eyes opened to the bright sun shining from my window, no Oscar in sight. A silent tear fell from my eye. I wiped it away. Happy that at the very least I was able to heal my heart, and maybe his in another universe.

my heart wanted to write this for a while

[fluentmoviequoter]

Good Luck Charm

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: At a Dodgers game, you meet Tim Bradford, who thinks you're a good luck charm for the Dodgers.

Warnings: pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

A/N: @bradleybeachbabe inspired me to write this (as well as Eric Winter posting about the Dodgers)! I hope you enjoy the game you're going to soon, Rachel!!!💙

Today’s date has been circled on your calendar for months. The Dodgers are playing at home in LA, and you got tickets behind home base. Since scoring the tickets, you’ve been counting down the moments, using this game to get you through tough days and long nights. Now that it’s finally here, you can forget about everything else for the evening and enjoy the game, hoping for another exciting evening like the tiebreaking two-run homer you watched on TV last week. Dressed in your favorite Dodgers shirt, you leave for Dodgers Stadium happier than you’ve been in weeks. Something in the Los Angeles air makes you think it will be a great night.

“Lucy, if I had an extra ticket, I’d sell it,” Tim sighs as he parks at Dodgers Stadium. “If you want to be at this game so badly, ask Thorsen. If anyone can get you a last-minute ticket, it’s him.”

“But he’s already at the game,” Lucy laments over the phone.

“So am I!”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“How is that-“ Tim stops and shakes his head. “Lucy, I hope you can figure something out. If not, I’ll tell you all about the game at work.”

“Ugh, you’re such a man.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

Tim ends the call before Lucy can explain that she did not mean that as a compliment. It’s been a tough week at the Mid-Wilshire station, and Tim wants to watch a good game, cheer for his team, and unwind.

Tim smiles as he makes his way to his seat: an unexpected but highly appreciated upgrade to home base. Coming into Dodgers Stadium feels like coming home, and Tim thinks tonight will be a good game. At least until he sees that the seat beside him, which he expected to be empty, is occupied by a woman scrolling on her phone rather than enjoying the pre-game activities. He ignores his disappointment at being in the section with a disinterested neighbor as he watches warmups.

You look up from the detailed roster file you keep on your phone. Gavin Lux, an infielder who is a left-hand batter and right-hand thrower, is wearing his glove on his right hand for warmups. As you scroll through your newest notes, glancing up at the team every few swipes, someone sits beside you.

“Left, right,” you murmur to yourself.

“Excuse me?” the man asks.

You lift your gaze from your phone, then freeze when you see the attractive man occupying the seat to your right.

“Sorry, I’m talking to myself. Lux is just… never mind, sorry.”

As you turn back toward the field, he asks, “Lux is?”

“He’s warming up with his glove on his throwing hand.”

The man looks out into the field, locates Lux, and nods. “He is. Any idea why?”

You shake your head. “I thought maybe I was remembering his stats wrong, but I double-checked and he’s warming up opposite.”

“Interesting. Think we can win with him off his game?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug. “I don’t think he’s the player that makes or breaks a game. Unless he tries to bat right-handed, we should be okay.”

“I’m Tim,” he introduces, offering his hand.

You shake his hand as you tell him your name, surprised by how he holds your hand in his just a moment longer than is usually acceptable. You don’t mind, especially when he smiles and asks if you’ve noticed anything else.

“Is this your usual seat?” you inquire after a few minutes of discussing the players and their techniques.

“No, my season pass gets me over first base,” Tim answers. “You?”

“One-night only. I’d love to get a season pass someday.”

“If we win tonight, they should give you one on principle.”

You laugh as you ask, “Why?”

“If we win tonight after that tenth inning save last week, with our infielders off their game, and you just happen to be in the crowd? You’d have to be good luck.”

“Maybe it’s just a good day,” you counter softly.

Tim smiles as he agrees, “Maybe.”

“Stop letting the ball play you!” someone behind you yells. “This is why they should have left you in the minors!”

You stifle a laugh at their enthusiasm but agree with them. Tim sighs beside you and checks the score.

“Just one can of corn, is that too much to ask?” Tim grumbles.

“Wow,” you exclaim. “You really just used that term.”

“You disagree?”

“Not at all, just haven’t heard someone younger than Babe Ruth call it that.”

“Then, what do we do? We’re going to lose at this rate.”

You shrug and offer, “Guess I’m not very good luck, after all.”

Tim wants to disagree but decides that it’s not his place. If the Dodgers win, then he’ll tell you that he’s impressed by you, drawn to you, but otherwise, you’ll go your separate ways, never to see one another again.

“I don’t want to watch this, Tim,” you say with a pout.

The Dodgers are tied in the bottom of the ninth in a concerning parallel to their previous game. You don’t trust them to get the ball where it needs to be to win, not after their lackluster performance in the first few innings.

“Wish them luck,” Tim encourages, standing beside you as the crowd roars. “C’mon, give into the superstition once. What’s the worst that happens?”

“We lose, and my night of relaxation becomes me wondering if you put a curse of the team by saying good luck in these sacred walls.”

“I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but it’s a baseball game. It’s not that serious.”

You try to ignore Tim, but the smile on his face is too hard to look away from. To appease him and partially because you love hearing him say you are good luck, you whisper a wish of good luck, boys through the net separating you from foul balls.

And, somehow, between when you speak and when the stadium silences, Mookie Betts hits a homerun that echoes throughout Los Angeles, and the Dodgers perform another walk-off.

“You did it!” Tim yells as the crowd erupts into cheers.

He pulls you into his arms, completely forgetting his prior hesitance to tell you how much you affected him, and you throw your arms over his shoulders as he spins you. When your feet are on the ground again, you cup Tim’s jaw and smile.

“We won!” you cheer as fireworks boom overhead.

“You really are good luck,” Tim replies.

“Maybe you’re the good luck."

Tim shakes his head and leans closer to you. The stadium around you is completely forgotten, entirely focused on the man before you. His hands are on your waist, yours are framing his face, and you can’t wait to hear what he says next.

“Will you go out with me? I think we could both use some more good luck,” he proposes.

Your smile widens as you nod. “I’d love to.”

Tim pulls you against his side, his arm warm and steady over your shoulders as you cheer for your home team and yourself.

Bonus:

“So, how was the game, Tim?” Lucy asks before roll call.

“It was great, after we caught up, at least,” Tim answers. “Did you watch it?”

“Yeah, Aaron pulled through and got me a ticket. Over the outfield but still better than anything I could’ve gotten on my own.”

Tim nods, but she doesn’t move out of the doorway so he can walk inside.

“What?” he asks.

“I saw something else at the game. Someone made it onto the jumbotron,” Lucy sing-songs. “You’re trending on ClipTok. Everyone’s talking about the mystery couple who celebrated the win.”

Tim narrows his gaze at Lucy, who shrugs and invites him to check for himself before she enters the roll call room. He pulls his phone from his pocket, surprised to see a text from you.

We’re trending. I don’t know if I should be more upset by all the people shamelessly looking for us or that they’re calling you ‘gorgeous’ and I’m ‘that girl hugging him.’

Tim rolls his eyes and answers:

Wait until they find out why we won.

You don’t acknowledge the implication that he’ll tell someone (Lucy, who will undoubtedly put it on ClipTok); instead, you tell him you’re looking forward to dinner tonight. What was supposed to be a relaxing evening at a baseball game for you and Tim turned into something so much more. If that’s not good luck, you don’t know what is.

[junkiespromise]

you are in love | ln4

lando norris x fem!bestfriend!reader

summary: where two childhood friends start to doubt about their feelings for each other

n/a: im backkk, i missed this anyway i hope you guys like this one, i hope it makes up for the time I was missing, remember my asks are open for any request, either eras tour one shots or any type of social media au )

masterlist

Lando was finally back in England, to spend his winter break with his family and friends. The cold air hit his face as soon as he got out of his car in front of the modern apartment building his best friend lived in. A glass revolving door stood in the middle of two giant windows that revealed the inside of the building, the hall and elevators.

He impatiently waited to see her after the doors of the elevator opened, they hadn't seen each other in a while, Lando was always too busy to visit her but did try to call her at least twice a week so he could hear her voice even if it was through the phone.

— So, what time is it there in… Where is it that you are now? I forgot —

— Abu Dhabi, it's almost nine o'clock I think, what about home, it's like six right? —

— Yeah, I have to go in a bit, I have you on speaker, getting dressed for a date right now —

— A date, with? Do I know him? —

— No, I don't think so, I know him from work, his name is Derek, he is from the USA I think, anyway, he is super super sweet. You would like him —

— If you say so, anyway, where are you and this, Derek, going —

— Um, I don't know, I guess probably a pub —

— A pub, for your first date ever, could've done something a little fancier, I would've taken you to a restaurant at least —

— Well first not everyone has your economic level, do they Lando and secondly, for your information he is taking me on a date not you — she, jokingly commented

— I wish I was — Lando said, under his breath, barely a whisper, she was not able to hear him through the noise of her blow drier.

— Did you say something? —

— What? Oh no, nothing at all —

— Well, I have to leave in like ten, so, thanks for this two hours Lan, I'll see you soon, right? I hope —

— Yeah, yeah. Abu Dhabi last race of the season so, in a few days I'll fly to you —

— That is, amazing, I've missed you lots, anyway, can not wait to see you, good bye —

The call cut off, before he could get to say goodbye, Daniel who sat by his side during the final moments of their conversation laughed at him.

— Just tell her you like her mate, it ain't that hard — His teammate said smiling, he swore he saw the connection between them.

— What are you even talking about — Lando, who had denied his feelings for his best friend ever since Daniel brought it up after the Silverstone grand prix, the last time she went to one of his races and he had annoyed Lando about it after that day.

— You just keep denying your feelings mate, just don't regret it when the one who ends up with her isn't you — Daniel replied, getting up from his seat and walking out of the room after hearing Zak calling them.

— Oh shut up Daniel — Lando said walking out behind him.

✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩

— So, how've you been — Lando asked her after hugging each other for a few minutes as soon as they saw each other.

— Great, lately everything has been going so good, and you? —

— Yeah? That's amazing, I'm good, kinda sad Danny's leaving though but I have the feeling he'll end up hanging 'round the grid anyway —

— Yeah, I saw that, It's really sad — she mentioned

— Okay stop, no sad stuff. We see each other after five months and get depressing, get in the car, I promised you a coffee date and I'm getting you that coffee. —

— Oh my god, yes, let's go, please — She said, excitedly, he opened the door to his car, letting her in.

— So, you're gonna make me listen to Taylor? — He asked after getting in the car, their tradition was listening to her favorite artist when he drove so Taylor Swift was constantly playing through his car's speakers.

— How is that a question, that's offensive Lando Norris — She said jokingly, her phone automatically connecting to his car's bluetooth.

— Before we, um, get going, I got you something in Brazil, hope you like it — He said and handed her a small box, finding a small silver necklace inside.

— You are kidding! Lando I love it, it's gorgeous, seriously — Her fingers traced over the necklace looking at it with adoration, the boy beside her looking at her with adoration that she could not notice — Thank you so much, you didn’t have to. —

— When I saw it I thought you might like it, I'm happy I was right —

— Okay, let me put it on and we can leave, seriously Lando I love it — She confessed, their hands touched for a second when she gave him the necklace so he could put it on her.

Y/N placed her hair on her shoulder, so he could access her neck more easily. His hands grazed the necklace, making shivers run down her spine, the warmness of her skin contrasting with the coldness of his hands.

— Okay, we should get going, right? — She said, washing away the moment

— Yeah, sure — The car engine started and his hands reached the maneuver.

— So, how have you and this guy, Derek, was it? How's it been? — He asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

— Amazing honestly, I told he was super sweet, I'm taking him as a date to that party Max is doing next month — She commented, his grip over the maneuver tightened

— Yeah? Great, that's great — His mind spun around the words Daniel had said to him the day before their last race of the year, but still he could not get himself to admit his feelings.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, dereklambert and 72,431 others

yourusername late night coffee date, and a gift from my bestest friend ♡

dereklambert when are you going with me to a coffee date.

yourusername whenever you want to ♡

landonorris bestest friend

yourusername ily ♡

lilymhe my favorites ♡

yourusername I LOVE YOU LILYYYY

landonorris dude…

lilymhe ladies first lando

user1 are she and lando dating??

user2 it literally says bestest friend girl…

— So, when is it starting again? — Y/N asked, straightening her hair in front of the mirror he had in his bedroom, they had a party that night planned by a friend of theirs.

— What? the party or…? —

— No, the season, when do you have to go back to traveling around the world —

— Like march or something but I think I'm gonna like do practices and stuff so I'll leave a bit earlier —

— Oh, so in like a month and a half, I'll miss you Lan — She said looking at him through the window.

— I promise I'll get you to come to more races, send you a private plane and all — He laughed walking up to her

— We should get going — Y/N said, turning around to face her friend.

— Sure, let's go —

Once already in the car, they kept chatting, Lando's eyes leaving the role for a second to look at her again, as if he could ever forget her silhouette.

— You didn't bring a date — Lando said after speaking about the party

— You didn't either, and? —

— Well I don't have anyone else to bring but you —

— Don't even lie, you have dozens of girls lining up to date you, besides we are bringing each other as a plus one —

— Yeah but I thought you would bring that guy you were talking to —

— Oh, um, we are not really talking anymore, I didn't feel much of a connection honestly — Lando didn't answer, he just looked at her, when they stopped at a red light, thousands of thoughts running through his mind at once. He prefered to stay silent this time.

— Anyway it's not that deep, not like I thought he was the love of my life but it is kind of awkward that I have to see him at work now —

— Then we'll find a job where you don't have to see him everyday — He joked making her laugh, oh how he wished he could be the only one to make her laugh that way.

✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩

Lando's eyes opened wide, looking at the ceiling of his room. The imaginary feeling of his bestfriends lips lingered over his as if it had happened.

He had dreamt of a confession that night, from him to her, kisses on sidewalks and an ordinary life by her side. And then he knew it, what deep down he was sure of all along, he was in love

— Hey Lando… — His friend said, looking down at him from the bed, the last letter being pronounced a little longer.

— You're my best friend — He blurted out, to her seemingly out of nowhere

— You're mine too Lando — She replied smiling at him. — Anyway, I was gonna ask if you wanted to make breakfast, I'm dying to eat something —

— Sure yeah, let's go —

Y/N got up from the bed wearing one of Lando's shirts and a pair of shorts, also his. His eyes took in the view, thinking about how he could get used to her sight every morning.

When he finally got up from the matress, he found her listening to music put on his television.

— They got burned, sorry — She said, showing the, now black, toasts she had on the plate, laughing he walked up to her and grabbed the plate, putting it back on the table.

— Don't worry, we'll make more — Lando said, grabbing his friends hand and twirling her around making her laugh.

— Grant me a dance first — He said and she nodded lifting her shirt a bit, pretending it to be a dress, Something by The Beatles heard in the background, locking them in their own little bubble.

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, alex_albon, and 851,790 others

landonorris party on saturday, burn toasts on a sunday morning

yourusername that photo booth was the best thing ever

maxfewtrell i literally had to kick you out so you two could stop taking pictures.

yourusername hottest besties out there

landonorris of coursee

charlesleclerc dude…

danielricciardo lando norizz

landonorris shut up mate

user3 can they PLEASE just date already

✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩

Bahrain, first race of the year, back in the game. He had prepared himself for a month before it ready to start the season on top, at least top 10.

Unluckily for him, the race was everything but good for him and his team, Oscar dnf'd and he, well he ended up seventeenth, and with the three dnfs that meant he ended up last, on his first race of the season he was last, someone had to be of course but he thought the place would take it a Haas or a Williams, not a Mclaren and especially not him.

Where was he now? At the hotel bar, it was probably around 1 am and in front of him he counted around four now empty glasses that once had a drink. His phone was on his hand now, the phone number of his best friend appeared on the screen.

One, two, three calls later he decided to leave her a voice mail, confessing everything, to the last bit of love he had for her he poured in that message.

— I'm in love with you Y/N, so much since we were kids I think — That's the last thing she heard, after a minute of slurred words she could barely understand that was the only phrase she could hear clearly coming out of her best friends mouth through her phone.

She wanted to cry and scream into a pillow, break everything around her and jump and shput of happiness and go running to whatever part of the world he was in right now and give him the greatest kiss in the world.

Right now, Y/N found her self infront of her bestfriends house, the message telling him she was there had been sent a few seconds ago. She played with her hands impatiently waiting for him to open the door of his home.

— Hey, come in — Lando who had also been waiting for her impatiently said as soon as he opened the door.

She walked through the door before him and sat on the couch by his side. Her eyes went from her lap to his hands and back to her lap, never once looking at his eyes, nervous.

— I don't want this to ruin our friendship Y/N, it was stupid really, I was drunk after that shitty race —

— Lando shut up — She smiled at him and her hands touched his now the contact made him stop talking — I love you too — The confession made him look up, his eyes on hers surprised

— You do, huh, um… I didn't plan what to say if that happened —

— You don't need to tell me anything, although I would like to hear you saying what you told me on that voice mail, but first — Her lips on his, like in his dream that last night they were together after the party. Lando's hands touched the end of her hair, something he knew she loved and then moved to her back

When they finally pulled away Lando spoke — I love you, so much, I dreamt of this, literally — He chuckled and moved a strand of hair that covered her face, his hand cupped the face of the girl infront of him, who smiled after his words.

— My mom is going to be so happy about this — She said laughing and resting her face on his chest

— Yeah mine too and Danny, oh my god, I think he was the first one to realize my feelings for you — He joined her laughter thinking about his friends reaction to the fact that they had told each other they were in love.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 93,761 others

yourusername You can see it with the lights out, lights out. You are in love, true love

landonorris childhood friends to lovers like all the books you love

lilymhe love you two ♡

danielricciardo FINALLYY GOD HEARD MY PRAYERS

user4 danny being their biggest fans, i love this.

user5 I KNEW THEY WERE IN LOVE SEEE

user6 A TAYLOR SONG IM DEAD

user7 actually my parents

taglist ;; @amayakingw @f1wh0r3 @misiafix @dan3avocado @thtbwltts @myaurorasandsadprose @qualitygiantshoepsychic @myescapefromthislife @light-23 @magical-imagination-kgp @leclercsbae @here-comes-the-moose @leclercs-posts

[misfitgirlwrites]

Doe Deputy (A Self-Hired Secretary!) | Alastor x Imp!Reader

I wanted to get this out around this time, I'm proud of myself! Here's the deal, guys:

You’re a mischievous bean and why would you not take the perks of working for a scary Overlord?

These are headcanons based off of some stories I have already written with my own character :) I hope you guys enjoy them! I'll most likely have more with this whole secretary thing I have going on

Be sure to join my giveaway while you still can! Want a personalized self-insert with a Hazbin or Helluva Boss character? Come enter! It ends July 4th!

I give you the goods now, lads, please enjoy!

CW: Mentions of violence, mentions of cannibalism (?)

a/n: I couldn't make it a bulleted list? I love it here y'all

🖤 I'll take a step into actual author territory, guys. This is pre-season one. I'm talking Alastor's full infamy in Hell

❤️ And there you were after getting fired from quitting your most recent job, taking the walk of shame home to your...decent-ish apartment that you suspect you wouldn't have for much longer

🖤 You needed a solution. You're willing to work for it, of course, but you still had a time limit

❤️ Rumors were going around that a bit of charity work and a promise of good behavior could get you a stay with the Princess of Hell, but charity work was more of a last resort for you

🖤 Finding a nice Overlord that could hand out some work, however...

❤️ It was the best idea you've had since you've been in Pentagram City

🖤 You didn't need a pushover, and you wanted to like who you were working with so that cut out a lot of candidates

❤️ Before you gave up on the idea completely, you heard the static of a radio faintly from someone's house and it reminded you of one candidate

🖤 It would require work and patience, but you weren't taking no for an answer!

❤️ Well, you didn't necessarily ask the Radio Demon, honestly

🖤 You began tailing him when you could and when it was safe to do so

❤️ Large crowds and far as ALL RINGS away

🖤 You didn't want any stumbles or mistakes that led to your little Hellish life going bye-bye

❤️ You had to know at least a little about him before you could really get things started

🖤 Was he a tea or coffee person? Did he like alcohol? Drugs? Just straight murder? (It's looking like just straight murder. You should search up torture methods)

❤️ It was easy for you to blend into crowds and walk right past the demon; he catches on that you're tailing him a lot but you've been evading powerful hell-born demons your whole life

🖤 We all love a liiiittttlllleeee one-up

❤️ You learn of his diet...how much can you judge, you guess?

🖤 Alastor is particular too, he picks his meat up from the same place at least two to three times a week

❤️ The first part of your plan begins

🖤 Dress nicely, a black below-the-knee pencil skirt or black dress pants, either a black or red (any shade) button-up with black or red (or both) dress shoes or heels

❤️ It's time to pick up Alastor's meals for the week! Much better than making multiple trips, right? He's a very busy Overlord ❤️

🖤 You'd waltz in as confident as possible "Hiya! Uh, name's _____. I'm here to pick up Alastor's venison for this week. Figured it'd be better to store in bulk."

❤️ Rosie would tilt her head and stare down at you, "...who are you, dear?"

🖤 "Right! I'm kinda doing a trial run as his secretary! I'm implementing some of my own ideas that I hope will be improvements on how he already moves."

❤️ Now you're nervous. You have no idea how Rosie could respond but you do know you're in fucking Cannibal Town so the only thing you can do is shoot Satan a quick prayer and show off your sharp smile

🖤 You're relieved when Rosie literally lights up, a large smile grows on her face as she clasps her hands together, "he finally took my advice, did he? And here I thought the bugger would never do it!"

❤️ You nodded, "I think this will be a good fit for me! I hope you can agree since you'll be seeing me weekly instead. I moved your hangouts to the end of the week in case the boss likes a drink here and there."

🖤 "A wise decision. You're doing great already if I have any say. Here, I'll grab what you need!"

❤️ Mission fucking SUCCESSFUL

🖤 Now was Alastor happy finding stacked containers of venison outside of his plate with a note?

❤️ The safe answer was no by how he was searching like a beast on the hunt. Luckily you didn't stay where he could see you

🖤 Next is the fun part and if you did this right, you'd be talking to the Radio Demon about this job position very soon

❤️ You knew of The Vee's. Alastor and Vox were never quiet with their quarrels. Why not take this as an opportunity?

🖤 An opportunity to weigh your options a bit if you want to be real. You could simply apply and most likely get the position

❤️ It took one bump in with a very cute spider demon to fill you in on Valentino and your weighing ceases lmao

🖤 Back to the original plan or as you like to call it:

💙 Mission: Blow Vox's Fuse for Money 💙

❤️ It was simple enough, really. The only part to worry about was security

🖤 But you're one of the best at slipping past guards and cameras

❤️ You really got a kick out of your handiwork

🖤 You even dropped off a picture to Alastor as a little warning 💅🏼

❤️ It was funny when you first thought about it and from the early morning power outage, you think you got your point across very well

🖤 Feeling proud of yourself, you decide tonight to go to your cozy roof hiding spot to see if you can get any new information

❤️ You were really getting into this job

🖤 You were so focused on writing down a schedule, that you didn't notice Alastor wasn't where you left him

❤️ "You're a very slippery thing, I must say."

🖤 Your pen stopped moving immediately

❤️ Because FUCK he was in too close proximity for this part of the plan

🖤 A cute way to say you were sure you were well hidden and he wasn't supposed to find you

❤️ So what could you do now? Speed up the plan and jump straight to your proposal? Or jump off the building and run for it?

🖤 And there you were, scrambling to climb over the ledge

❤️ Of course, you didn't make it very far. Your notebook and pen hit the ground as a black tendril wrapped around your torso and tightly might you add

🖤 "Because you've been so busy running around in my business, I'll give you one chance to explain yourself."

❤️ Truthfully because you've thoroughly entertained him now

🖤 Vox threw a complete tantrum and if he wasn't in front of you, he'd start chuckling at the thought of it again

❤️ "...So I figure all the sweet talk I had planned is out the window?" You'd ask.

🖤 "Absolutely."

❤️ Now or never was an understatement but you felt like this was better than being homeless in Hell

🖤 "I wanted to offer my services as a secretary. I think it'll do us both some good."

❤️ "What makes you think I need your assistance?"

🖤 "Need is a strong word, boss. I'm here if you want to focus on all the fun stuff while I arrange all the shows and bring the coffee for the Overlord meetings--I feel like they would appreciate the nice gesture from you, don't think so? While you're out being scary, I can promote your public image at the same time!"

❤️ "I don't need a secretary."

🖤 "Your good friend Ms. Rosie seems to have been telling you otherwise--"

❤️ The tendril holding you in the air tightened

🖤 You give Alastor a big smile and quickly apologize, "What I mean is this is Hell! Order me around and I'll do literally whatever you ask as long as you pay me."

❤️ "So what do you call this then?"

🖤 "A free trial. Wasn't this week just a little bit more relaxing?"

❤️ Alastor hated to admit it, but you weren't wrong. Rising to infamy was a very busy job and it would be easier to have someone else handle the background things

🖤 And you

❤️ You managed to tail him and learn base information to do all this without him knowing. Realistically he was standing in front of a good candidate

🖤 Rosie already met you (did you plan that??) plus nothing you did wasn't...not helpful

❤️ Alastor couldn't believe he was actually considering this

🖤 You hit the ground and let out a small "oof" before staring up at Alastor who was now pinching the bridge of his nose

❤️ "The actual trial starts Monday. We have a morning meeting to go to."

🖤 ...Yes.

❤️ YES!

🖤 Holy fuck! Hail Satan, you did it! Major pat on the back, you!

❤️ "Don't go getting all excited. I could change my mind at any time."

🖤 "Understood, boss!"

❤️ Alastor could get used to that

Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Alastor or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[whorekneecentral]

Ok Anj hear me out: Yuki x Gasly!reader

Context:

*they’re in a secret relationship and have rlly loud sex in the next door room

*Pierre’s pissed cuz he can’t sleep but ends up traumatised seeing them in bed (he’s happy for them but still… HIS BEST FRIEND’S POUNDING HIS SISTER😭🫣)

- Nando Anon

bye I swear I wrote a version of this but with schumacher!reader lmaooo - what is with y'all and having everyone's sister with yuki??

the france gp was nothing if not an extravaganza event. at least for your family. your brother had brought everyone to the race; your older brothers and their families, you and your parents.

you find yourself tucked away in the corner of the garage, it was swelteringly hot that weekend, everyone and their mums had been avoiding the heat as best as they can.

your parents and brothers headed home post race but you stayed back, having dinner with your brother and his teammate. pierre put you up in the hotel with them for the evening before the two of you drove home tomorrow.

pierre decided to go out with charles and a few other friends after dinner and you were exhausted, calling it a night. your brother left you with yuki, the two of you having what seemed like an innocent conversation as he left.

you two wasted no time once he was gone, headed up to yuki's room for the evening.

see, your brother had invited you two join him for quite a few race weekends over the course of the season, the first one being japan. his teammate, who you had met for the first time in japan, was a native to the beautiful country and took you around, showing you two his favourite spots prior to the race.

one evening, pierre decided to stay in and you and yuki went out for dinner. dinner turned to dessert and then drinks and karaoke and next thing you know, the two of you are in bed.

that was the beginning of something special.

you and yuki had been seeing each other quietly, sneaking off together when you come to spend the weekend with your brother.

it was late, the two of you were certain your brother wasn't back yet - as his room shared a wall with yuki's - so your loudness wasn't exactly the biggest concern at the moment.

yuki's hands all over you, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips on yours - there's a knock on the door, interrupting the two of you.

"mate!" you hear the voice from the other side of the door, the two of you freeze - pierre.

your eyes widen, yuki untangling himself from you as you pull the comforter over your body. "yuki open the door!" pierre knocked again, you could hear him chuckling.

your boyfriend looks at you wide eyed and you give him the same look.

yuki pulls his shorts on and goes to open the door, just enough for pierre to see him but not enough for him to see the bed that you were on. "what's up?"

"you're so loud, well whoever you have in there was loud. good on you, mate." pierre laughed, patting his friend's shoulder. "but I'm trying to see, so be a little quieter- is that y/n's purse?"

yuki doesn't have to look back to know it is your purse hanging off the side of the chair, clearly visible to pierre outside of the room. "wait why is y/n's purse in your - oh dude ew oh my god! ew! my sister? what the fuck!"

it seems he connected the dots.

"gross. can you guys shut up before I throw up?" he says, gagging as he turns to walk away. yuki tries not to laugh, shutting the door as his teammate leaves.

[cbrownjc]

image credit: c2299cLance on Twitter

The above image is from the Episode 2x05 insider. And boy oh boy do I (did I?) have a question about this.

Because if that really is the book being published in the present day . . . then that pretty much upends the format of the show. Because the book being published means there is absolutely no reason for Daniel to stick around Dubai anymore IMO. Because why would he? His job is done.

And truth be told, I've long thought the interview would be finished in episode 2x08. That Daniel would finish it, and talk about heading home to being writing and editing it.

However, I never really thought he would actually leave. Because Daniel's character basically does leave the story at the end of Interview with the Vampire. And we don't see him again until Queen of the Damned, during the chase. (And we already know Season 3 is The Vampire Lestat).

But I really couldn't work out how the show could ever have that happen -- because that basically means Daniel's character leaving the show for a time. Possibly a long time, as time jumps just to account for the book being published would have to happen. And that, well . . .

See, I very much noticed how much Daniel's Parkinson's was making him shake this episode (2x05). And I in no way think Armand and Daniel are doing the Devil's Minion chase in the current day with Daniel having Parkinson's during a pandemic (which is still going on in the show's timeline). Sorry, no, not happening IMO. Because there is no damn reason for Armand to chase Daniel now, IMO. The reason Armand even did so in the first place was because he found Daniel fascinating/interesting. And well, as we just saw in episode 2x05 that already happened. It makes no sense that Armand would wait 50 freakin' years to follow up on that with a chase around the world.

So the book being published at the end of the interview always meant, to me, that it would mean bye-bye to Eric from the show. Which, I was NOT looking forward to. Because I honestly couldn't see any reason for Daniel's character to stick around, at least in Dubai, never mind the next part of the story. Especially if Lestat isn't going to be in Dubai and we might have to start doing freakin' time jumps to account for the publication of books.

And, once again, Daniel has a degenerative disease. That, once again, I noticed very well how much he was shaking from. So unless Devil's Minion really didn't happen in the past, there really was no way for Daniel to enter or be part of the story going forward. Because yes, I very much think Armand is going to be prepared to let Daniel leave Dubai and not stop him. Right now, Armand is very focused on keeping his life as it is in Dubai, and I think part of that is due to him not thinking Daniel would ever really remember anything of the past anyway.

So yeah, if that prop is for the book actually being published in the modern-day, I was already beginning to mourn Daniel leaving the show. Because from how I looked at it, I couldn't figure out any reason why his character would stay in Dubai, around these vampires anymore. Right now, if Daniel leaves Dubai, he leaves the show IMO. And probably for a good long while, given where the story is going. (With maybe Armand coming to see Daniel later at some point when he's dying to turn him or something, IDK).

And then, I was reminded -- by @nalyra-dreaming -- of this picture that Eric posted on Twitter a few months back:

And it all began to click.

Because for a real time there, for a few weeks at least after Eric first posted this, I seriously thought that Daniel's character was going to, well die.

Between the posting of this picture by Eric as well as a few other things, no joke, I was getting a real vibe about it, that Daniel was going to die this season . . . but not stay dead of course. I just held back on talking about it because it felt so damn early, story-wise, for it to happen.

And then something during the lead-up to the more recent press events made me stop thinking Daniel would die. And that Daniel's turning still wouldn't happen for a few more seasons yet.

But now . . . if the book really is going to be published . . .

I think it's going to be published posthumously. Or, at least, posthumously to the human world.

Because why would Daniel stick around in Dubai if the book is published? As we saw in the preview for next week, he's already saying to Justin Kirk he wants to get out of this alive. The minute he's done with the interview he's leaving, make no mistake about that. So why would Daniel stay?

Well, becoming an undead vampire would do it.

So everyone who wanted Eric's Daniel to become a vampire? You might actually be getting your wish this season. Because if those books above really are real and Daniel really is publishing it in the modern-day . . . then the only reason I can think of for him to not only stay in Dubai/on the show but not visibly age -- or get sicker like Daniel very much would wrt such time jumps that would require not only a publication of such a book but for Lestat to see it, read it, etc -- is this. Daniel becomes a vampire at the end of this season.

Because otherwise, IMO? There is no other reason for his character to stick around. Not from anything else I've thought of so far at least that would make any type of sense.

And what is going to force Armand's hand into turning Daniel? (Because yes, I do still think it's going to be Armand who does it) Well, very likely this . . .

gif credit: @hermit-frog

I already thought Daniel was going to get hurt when it came to this happening. But now I think Daniel getting hurt will be the least of it . . .

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (2/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you and ona become much closer, but in the wrong way; an offer on the horizon threatens to tear you apart.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: description of collision in football

PART I, PART III, PART IV, PART V

Sports Illustrated: USWNT International Y/N Y/L/N Scores in First Game Back From Injury “Y/N Y/L/N will not stop scoring. The Man City star returns to action with a stunning header in a home game against Everton since picking up an injury this summer in the CONCACAF final against Canada. Though the U.S. emerged victorious thanks to Alex Morgan’s penalty kick, Y/L/N was forced off in the 68th minute with a torn hamstring. She was expected to be sidelined for 3 months. […]”

You skimmed through the article, waiting for your coffee to brew. It has been an arduous few months as you focused on rehabilitation. You were supposed to be match-fit at the start of the season, but the physios determined you needed at least a few more weeks before you could play. Your thigh still felt a bit tight every time you stretched them. Nonetheless, you were back to playing, that was all that mattered.

It was early November, and the winds were picking up in Manchester, and yet you were warm.

“Morning,” you said, smiling at the figure waddling into the living room.

Bratwurst was wagging his tail by her side, no doubt looking for more food as if you hadn’t fed him half an hour ago.

“Good morning,” Ona said, rubbing her eyes.

“Coffee?” You nodded towards the machine.

“No, I have to get to training. Thanks, though.”

“In my shirt?” You smirked at looked down at her top. Sure enough, it was the old T-shirt you lent her after you were done last night.

“Hah hah.” She mocked you, but then took off the shirt, leaving her top half completely bare, and threw it at your face. “Obviously not.”

You let your eyes travel freely, as she went back into your room and returned wearing the clothes she came in last night.

“Looks like you’re back to being your insufferable self.” She walked to where you sat, putting on her necklace. “Can’t even go on social media without seeing people praising your goal.”

“All in a day’s work,” you said, grinning.

Ona rolled her eyes and put on her shoes. “I’m glad you’re back, but I won’t go easy on you.”

You stood up and pecked her lips.

“I never asked you to,” you leaned closer, ducking your face into her neck. “Maybe when we’re alone.”

She snickered quietly and patted your cheek. “Try not to miss me too much. Bye-bye, Bratwurst.”

The pup sat by the door as he watched her close it behind her. Ever since she started spending time at your apartment, it felt like he liked her more, always following her around and snuggling with her as she gave him pets.

Ona had been coming over since the kiss at the end of last season with the premise of meaningless sex. You both had an arrangement, and you were committed to keeping to it. You were surprised when she suggested it, thinking her not to be the type, but Ona continues to surprise you.

You had only meant to meet up over dinner to talk about what happened, but the night ended with her hands tangled in your hair and your legs tangled in her sheets. The ups and downs these past few months never deterred you from seeing each other. In fact, Spain losing out in the Euros prompted her to come over and forget about it for a night. In a way, you both had each other.

Your teammates at Man City were especially amused whenever you’d forget to cover up and come to practice with marks on your neck.

“Who’s the unlucky gal this time, Y/N?”

“Have you been busy while you were injured?”

Every time, you would just shake your head with a grin because you’d never kiss and tell. Also, because Leila and Laia would flip out if they knew you’d been screwing their teammate on the national team.

Your arrangement worked for a while, both of you still too young and too committed to football to think about anything else. While a lot of your colleagues would disagree, it was the excuse you told yourself to fully admit that what you felt for Ona was beyond just carnal desires.

You were treading on dangerous waters, your feelings bubbling to the surface every time you saw the girl. It was much more challenging to keep them under wraps, especially when you had to play against her every couple of months. From what people knew about you two, you were rivals, and that was your relationship. Rumors of a romance surfaced too, amongst younger fans, but it was the result of baseless shipping. If only they knew.

Ona wasn’t an incredibly affectionate person, not by a mile. The only times you would catch her lowering her guard by the tiniest of margins were when she was tired, maybe then she’d let you cuddle her after sex. But you remembered when Spain was knocked out of the Euros way too soon, and she was crying on the phone to you. You had just won the CONCACAF with the US across the Atlantic, and yet all you wanted was to hold her.

And so that was what you did. Two days later, after you were dismissed from your international duties, you flew back to Manchester and waited for her. Ona liked to be the little spoon whenever she was sad, and you were very happy to oblige. If she was feeling generous, she would even thank you for it. As much as you wanted to, you never teased her about it, because you knew what you had was fragile, and a slight mention of it could topple everything to the ground.

That was how it was with your Spanish beauty.

“Wooooooow . . . You’ve got a handful,” said your teammate, Chloe, as she stood in your kitchen, eating your chips.

“Yup,” you pressed your lips thinly, grabbing some seasoning from the cupboard. “That’s my life right now.”

You proceeded to tell Chloe everything one day, omitting a few saucy details, of course.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“That’s the thing, though. There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t just walk up to her and demand something that wasn’t part of the arrangement to begin with.”

“I know, but it’s clearly affecting you. You like her, don’t you?”

“No.” A few seconds of silence followed, and Chloe was looking at you with a glare. “Okay, I think she’s cute, like, really cute.”

“I think you should talk to her, Y/N,” Chloe said. “Worst case scenario, you lot stop whatever you’re doing with each other behind all of our backs. Best case scenario, you date her.”

You smirked, but nothing no usual quippy or smug remark came out. “I should try,” you spoke quietly.

Chloe nodded expectantly and continued eating her chips, now. “I can’t believe it. You tricked all of us! It was Batlle all this time!”

“I didn’t think you’d come tonight,” you whispered quietly into the room, sitting by the edge of your bed.

Ona was under the covers, on her phone. “Why? ‘Cause we played against each other?”

You nodded bashfully.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she set her phone down. “Or did you not want me to come?”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” You said, gesturing at the clothes strewn on the floor.

You let her study you for a moment, finding the ruffled sheets much more interesting instead.

“What’s wrong?” She said.

“Nothing.”

“You’re too quiet.” Her voice was low and calming. She reached out and caressed your hand. You wanted to bury your face in her neck and be done with the conversation instead.

“I was just wondering . . . would you like to come over a bit earlier from now on?”

Your question made her look at you with a puzzled expression. “Have I been staying too late?”

“No, no. I mean—you can stay as late as you want, but come a bit earlier. I can cook for us, and then we can just sit and . . . talk.”

You fumbled with your fingers, your eyes drifting up to her, seeing the realization dawn on her. She exhaled. “Okay, that sounds nice . . . but as friends, right?”

“Um . . . no?”

“Y/N,” Ona breathed. Her silence was killing you. Finally, she looked up. “That wasn’t our arrangement, and I’d like for it to stay as we’ve agreed. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Yeah,” you lied, caressing her arm and flashing a smile. “It’s for the best.”

She nodded but watched you closely. “Come here,” she whispered.

You obliged, letting her pull you into her embrace. A searing kiss followed, leaving you to straddle her bare waist.

A short gasp left your lips. “Fuck me, Ona.” You pleaded quietly, hoping she’d fuck you until you forget the conversation ever happened. But you also hoped she’d go slow and make love to you, proving that she’d finally reciprocated your feelings.

You’ve decided that you wanted both. Maybe then, you’d finally get what you wanted.

You didn’t know that Ona was scared to let you in too, so she settled for sleeping with you.

You had been an obsession of hers for three years, a game she played besides having to focus on the actual game she was paid to play. But now, here she was—sleeping with someone who could possibly be her mortal enemy. She didn’t know when, but suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to see you harmed.

She wanted you, but that was the selfish part of her speaking.

In the morning, you had expected her to be there, but your bedside was empty.

Ona moved through her days like a ghost. She didn’t expect it to be this hard three years ago when she first set foot in Manchester. She didn’t expect a forward to make her life this hard, or that she would fall in love with you. Every minute she spent tangled up in bed with you were minutes where nothing else outside that bedroom mattered, and it scared her.

It scared her that only you could make her feel that way, that something she had spent so hard working towards for herself, you did so easily for her.

She thinks of the nights after the Euros when she practically stayed over all day, and how you took care of her. She thinks of the cheeky winks you would send her way whenever she played against you, and the not-so-innocent brushes that you sneak in whenever she defended you. She think of your face when she shut you down, and how quickly your walls came back up.

She thinks of you the entire time she was on the Zoom call with her agent.

“You need to decide soon, Ona,” her agent had told her. “Barcelona doesn’t wait for anyone.”

It was a no-brainer, but she thinks of you all the time.

The referee blew the whistle and the 90 minutes were over. You collapsed on your knees as the Etihad erupted into cheers. Man City had reached the semifinals of the Women’s Champions League for the first time ever in the history of the women’s club. You would be playing Wolfsburg next, but you couldn’t care less about that right then. You just wanted to celebrate with your teammates.

You wished that you could celebrate with Ona too.

You sent her a text much later in the night, but she didn’t respond. Thinking it to be too late for her to come over, you went to bed, soaking in your victory.

But then, she didn’t respond the next day, then the day after that. A week later, she still hadn’t responded. Then the first leg of the semifinal came, and City drew 2-2 to Wolfsburg. You had given her space to deal with whatever she didn’t want you to know and knew double-texting made you look desperate, but you have had enough of the silence.

A vote of confidence would have been nice Sent 4:29pm

Nothing.

You weren’t going to put your life on hold for her. You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

The week of the return leg, you had almost forgotten all about Ona from the amount of training you were doing.

“Okay, ladies. Gather around,” said Chris, the assistant coach. “This will be our last practice session before the Champions League game. We’re gonna do some passing to start with, then a set-piece practice, and we’ll close off with a 5v5 scrimmage. That sound good?”

You were starting to feel more confident than jittery. Your movements were sure and steady, so were your finishes. Big games never deterred you, but it was the added fact of Ona not responding to your text that caused you to check your phone every time you were able to.

“No phones, Y/N,” Chris said, and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, Coach. Just checking news from family,” you lied. He extended his hand anyway, and you begrudgingly handed your phone over.

“I can’t have you distracted, Y/N. The match is tomorrow.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been good, though, haven’t I?” You grinned, taking a swig of water.

Practice ended later than scheduled, but you didn’t mind. You needed the extra preparation, and you were glad to have done that with your teammates. Chris finally gave you your phone back, like a naughty student, and you quickly checked your messages. Still nothing. It wasn’t like this was the biggest game of your life or anything.

Going to the news, flipping through articles upon articles on politics, your eyes landed on one about sports.

The Busby Babe: Ona Batlle Set For Barcelona Return “Manchester United and Spain star right back Ona Batlle is reportedly on the verge of completing a move back to Catalonia, rejoining Barcelona Femeni at the end of her contract with the Red Devils. […]”

The match of your life started. You were on the left wing as you always were, playing inverted so Laia would be running the flank. You scored one, but Wolfsburg got one back towards the end of the first half.

“Make those runs, ladies. If you see them coming at you, call out to your teammates. Use the third man to break free of the defense.” Gareth pointed at the board, showing hypothetical scenarios that the team could exploit for an opening.

“Hey,” Chloe sat next to you, her forehead glistening. “You alright?”

You uttered a small ‘yeah’ and closed your hand over her sweat-clad one over your knee. You couldn’t be distracted. You owed it to Chloe and everyone else on this team.

You were slamming your fist on the door, but you didn’t care. Your jaw clenched as you swayed on your feet waiting for her to open up.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You stepped into her apartment.

Her face went pale. “How did you know?”

You let out a laugh. “You’re pathetic. You’re a coward for not even saying a single word.”

The ball was sent over long from deep aiming towards you. You called for Filippa for a one-two, but once you dribbled, you were tackled inside the box. You put your hand up at the referee but huffed in disbelief when she only shook her head and granted a corner.

Slapping your hand on the grass, you sprung up with a grunt. It must have looked like you were throwing a tantrum, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to win.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you were just not gonna say anything at all?! You owe me that much to—”

“I don’t owe you anything, Y/N.” She snapped. She had never snapped at you before, not while off the pitch. “You know what we have is just sex. That’s all we ever had and that’s all we will ever have.”

Tears formed in your eyes. You felt like a kid again, being scolded and taken for granted. “Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but this isn’t some fantasyland,” Ona said firmly. “I told you what I wanted, and I thought you agreed.”

There was a period of struggle over the ball soon after, mostly in midfield. You were growing increasingly frustrated as passes continued being cut off just before they reached the attacking third.

“Come on, guys! Let’s finish this!” You called out to your teammates in an attempt to hype them up before a throw-in.

Your irritation mounted, but you told yourself to quickly snap out of it. I need to stay calm, my team needs me. It proved quite difficult when Lena Oberdorf slithered up from behind to mark you. She dug an elbow into your back to keep you at bay, and when you moved, she moved. So you pushed back, much harder than you anticipated. It set her off. Good, stay off me.

Soon, you heard the ref’s hurried whistle, as Lena shoved you back. “The fuck are you pushing for?!” Your opponent seethed, getting all up in your face to challenge you.

You were feeling bold, so you smirked at her. “Come closer, see what I’ll do. Or do you just want a piece of this, huh?”

It wasn’t your best quality, you admitted it, but you liked it when you set off an opponent. You didn’t care when Lena was hurling insults at you in German as she was being led away. What mattered was that you had gotten in her head, and it would be much easier to break her defense from now on. The referee blew her whistle again, and a few teammates of yours attempted to separate you from Lena.

“Sei ruhig, Mann. Bleib’ da drüben.” Be quiet, man. Stay over there. Waving at her dismissively, you saw the way her eyes looked like they would pop out of her sockets in fury, knowing she didn’t expect you to know German. You couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

“Last warning, Y/L/N.” The referee warned before continuing the match.

There would always be one player that completely drove the opposition crazy, and you would gladly be that asshole, so your teammates wouldn’t have to. You wanted to win.

“You kissed me first. I thought . . .”

“Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is,” Ona said quietly.

“I thought we had something, Ona,” you tried to steady your voice. You knew you sounded pathetic, but you never believed Ona could betray you in such a way.

She only pressed her lips thin. “We don’t. The only thing we have is our arrangement and however you feel about me on the pitch.”

Bunny scored in the 75th minute, and that would be the last goal for City in this match. The game went to extra time, and you could feel your teammates getting tired and sloppy in possession. You were tired too, but you wanted to keep fighting, anything to keep the thought of Ona out of your head.

You were so focused on the ball that you didn’t see a defender coming up beside you, her body colliding with yours in an attempt to redirect the ball. You fell to the ground with a thud, the stinging impact beginning to spread across your back. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you, your vision beginning to fade until all you could see were the lights atop the stadium, until those faded too.

The next thing you knew, you were on your side. Then the uncomfortable pain in your gut started to become more apparent, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. You gasped for air, just as a couple of your teammates knelt beside you.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Medic!” You heard a voice almost like Demi’s call out.

You didn’t know who knocked into you, you didn’t care anymore, because you had the overwhelming urge to throw up whilst still struggling to breathe.

“Can’t . . . breathe,” you wheezed out, tears starting to fill your eyes. You wanted to go home.

One of the medics shone a flashlight in your eyes. “Pupils are PEARL,” she said. “Okay, I need you to try and take deep breaths for me, alright, darling?”

You drew a shaky breath. There was a wheezing noise, in and out. In and out. The more you did, the easier it got. Your head was dizzy when you stood up, just as you heard applause ringing throughout the stadium.

Chloe appeared in front of you and offered her arm while a medic took your other as you walked toward the sideline.

“You’re alright, love,” she flashed you a warm smile and wiped away the stray tear that lingered on your cheek.

It was much too unfortunate, because you still had a lot more to give, but you were done for the night. Gareth knew it too, so he sent Hempo in to take your place.

You finally let the tears fall freely when the final whistle came.

“When do you leave?”

“In two weeks.”

A scornful laugh escaped you that you didn’t even bother to hide. “You didn’t even have the decency to tell me, not as your booty call, but as your friend.”

But you were kidding yourself. You knew Ona and you were never friends, never quite lovers either. Only two people floating around in a sexual limbo who were too scared to admit to themselves what was right in front of them. Now she was leaving, and you would never get the chance.

It didn’t matter anymore, any of it. You had a Champions League semifinal to play.

ESPN: Wolfsburg Grabs Victory in Extra Time to Reach Women’s Champions League Final “[…]”

a/n: it was so heartwarming to see the support for jenni and the players :’) it’s abt fuckin time man let’s hope this continues until rubiales and vilda’s resignation