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mouthpoisons · 4 days ago

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on viktor's doomed destiny as the magical harbinger of the apocalypse, sky being a secret mastermind, the butterfly effect, the message within the pattern, the arcane being a sentient manifestation of The Narrative and pushing everyone towards tragedy

so this started out as a halfhearted joke post that went something along the lines of ''maybe sky is such a nothing character because she was always the arcane's y/n x viktor self insert and not just after the hexcore eats her'', then it turned into me spending like a whole day examining sky scenes through this lens and acquiring a massive tin foil hat about it, and then while paying attention to sky i also started viewing the arcane as a whole as something conscious, malignant, the plot of the show itself manipulating and urging everyone, but especially viktor, towards it's end goal of him becoming heimerdinger's world ending mage. and then This post happened. because i was initially writing an analysis on sky, this post is mostly me talking about sky. i started Realising Other Shit about halfway through and i simply wont be rewriting what ive already put down. but the more i think about it and go back and rewatch parts of the show, the more this makes perfect sense and i'll definitely be coming back with a part two. part 2 will likely be about jinx because that ''use your explosive potential and maybe you can change your story'' line from vi, which we can only assume is directed at her sister, is doing cartwheels in my brain

this is massive and long and messy and its going under a readmore. enter if u dare

disclaimer because theres gonna be people who Seriously hate this and might wanna assume things about me because of it but i hope youll understand im coming from a place of pure story and meta analysis. this theory is unfortunately going to assume theres a manipulative ulterior motive to Everything sky says and does, and this is not written in any way to spite people who like sky as simply the sweet doomed lady who has a crush on viktor, skyvik shippers, etc. i honestly just think she is currently the worst written character in the show by miles and that that... cant be it. trying to attach any secret meaning to what she went through and her role in the story beyond ''fridged woman'', i promise, is out of love, despite what im about to spend a billion words accusing her of. i deeply want her ass to secretly be part of the craziest reveal in the show.

if anything im about to say stays one of the most crackpot theories about the show ever written, then i will firmly be a member of the ''she deserved better'' camp, in which you can all beat me with hammers if you want. anyway lets get right into it.

i think sky has been some kind of arcane manifestation who scouted out, has been keeping an eye on, and has urging viktor along the path he's been on the entire show, and not just after the hexcore ''killed'' her. i believe she is essentially another herald who foreshadows some of viktor's major character developmental moments, that she is the butterfly effect, that the arcane is a conscious character and she is one of the vessels it uses to manipulate the show's story towards it's end goal, which very much seems to be setting up viktor as a world ender. i also believe that she may have had one major instance of manipulating the trajectory of jayce's story in service of this

before i continue i need you to know i tried to pull up a wiki page about her just now incase theres any Extra Lore that hasnt appeared in the show and apparently all anyone could be bothered to write down for her is ''Viktor's assistant with an unrequited admiration for the scientist.'' lmfao. if there Is any missing lore, behind the scenes stuff, etc, id love to hear it, whether it supports or contradicts any of this.

ok then, whatever, what do i remember about sky. shes from zaun, shes viktors assistant, they knew eachother or at least met that one time when they were children, she's been doing her own private research, and she has a massive crush on/admiration for him. viktor doesnt pay her too much attention until she ''dies'' and then he is consumed by guilt surrounding her death. sky also has a pattern of becoming more and more ''relevant'' to viktor as the show goes on, and a lot of people have criticised this as a form of reconning her fridging, and yeah if all of this is bullshit then it might be, but if not, wow. i also vaguely remember hearing something about amanda overton being very proud of sky's character which... right now? youre kidding me. if literally any of this is true? holy shit, i get it.

as a last bit of additional context; this theory was also super inspired the other theory that the corrupted spot heimerdinger noticed at the base of the hexgate is where some of viktor's blood fell as he... divinely received the idea to build the hexcore? (that's going to be such a fucking facepalm moment for all of us in retrospect if im onto something here lol). it's one of the things that really got me thinking. he shouldn't have been in any way magical at that point. my theory is in essence a massive continuation of the idea that arcane forces have been having an effect on viktor for longer than we realise.

i'll pitch this theory primarily through some scene analysis, and mostly from season 1 since everyone else has ''wait is she being Bad here'' season 2 sky analysis on lock, most of us agree she's being strange and ominous after her ''death''. i might be the first insane person on earth to pitch that she's also being strange and weird Before her ''death''

i'll start with what might be one of my personal smokiest of guns and biggest Insane In Retrospect Moments, which has a lot of the core thematic stuff shoved into it and laid out quite plainly, then im just gonna go wherever the flow takes me. im not an essay guy. this will be messy and im sorry in advance.

in this scene, viktor is messing around with the hexcore. sky is watching behind him, and remarks that it's beautiful. viktor expresses his frustration at not being able to figure out the device, sky responds ''you will'', asks to walk him home with her, and he declines, saying that he's going to keep working on it through the night. sky doubles down, asking ''again? yknow there's always tomorrow, right?''. he dismisses her and she leaves. pretty much immediately, viktor passes out coughing up blood, which merges with the hexcore.

viktor has been established as a wildcard and a risk taker who doesnt like unnecessary stalling and delays. at this point in the show his health is starting to take a heavy toll on him. jayce has recently hit the pause button on releasing their new hextech tools (more on that in a bit). he's incredibly frustrated with the overall situation and is in tunnel vision mode. my theory is that sky very purposefully asked him to take his time, to give it a rest, knowing that he would do the opposite. this is an example of some potential reverse psychology sky demonstrates a couple times during the show. the other one is a very prominent scene in s2e6 that also got me Thinking about all this, the part where she says to viktor ''you once told me, all systems have limits'', and he responds by asserting vander is worth the risk. course vander's continued presence in the camp as viktor tries to heal him kickstarts the rest of the horribleness that happens that episode, which in the end makes viktor ''understand'' the futility of the human condition, and perhaps if he hadnt just gotten shot by jayce, wouldve been the moment he becomes the apocalypse wizard.

in this s1 scene though... she didnt really have to flex it here. the purpose this specific example would theoretically serve would be to piss off the audience upon rewatch, because we all thought she was just flirting lol

her assuring him that he will figure it out, and then a massive advancement happening instantly, is crazy. it's as if she knew what was going to happen, as if she heralded it into being. this is also her first speaking scene in the show which feels significant especially when it comes to retrospect potential

next i wanna talk about the scene where she may have, in a such a blink-it-and-youll-miss way, manipulated jayce's trajectory. this is also her first appearance in the show period

before jayces progress day speech, he asks viktor to come onto the stage with him, ''we're partners'', and sky adjusts her glasses while looking in on in the background. viktor declines, anxious about the idea of being on stage, and sky hands jayce his script.

jayce confidently reads from the script for a bit, but then changes his mind about what he wants to say, and this is when he hits the brakes on unveiling the new hextech devices, suddenly disappointing both viktor and mel, who he sought out for advice on the matter just a couple of scenes prior. his mind is assumedly comfortably made up about this. hell, enough to write a script, set up a presentation, and for mel and viktor to also be confident about how the presentation will go. the decision was extremely on-the-spot; it's a very awkward moment as jayce freezes mid sentence, we get several shots of the hexgem behind him, strange noises start chiming in the background (which do sound a lot like the mic feedback that's also going in that scene, but these ones seem.. different? certainly deliberately placed), and he suddenly decides against the tech demo. the shots of the hexgem behind jayce have the potential to be ominous as fuck in hindsight. certainly ominous enough to snap me out of simply writing a theory about sky, to thinking about the arcane's influence on the characters and plot as a whole.

this is a possible example of sky, as some kind of arcane avatar, manipulating the plot, with the goal of creating tension between jayce and viktor, and frustrating viktor with the stalling of their technology. after the progress day speech, jayce remains a lot more safety-cautious, and is given his councillor positon, which furthers the rift between them. viktor states all of this in their brief argument in the scene at the hexgate, before he coughs up blood over the railing and has his vision of the hexcore. within the context of this theory, it really feels like the arcane kind of saying to itself, ''all according to plan, he's ready for the next big thing.''

this now. on a personal I Was A Disabled Loner Kid Too Once level this scene has always bugged me and i never quite understood why most people seem to take it as ''aw their first bonding moment''

viktor cant play with the other kids because of his disability, so he hangs out on his own and builds toys. sky comes over, literally looks down on him from a cliff, seems very curious about what he's doing but only briefly, and is called away by her friends, leaving with a smile, as quickly as she arrived. she... acknowledges him, but that's about it. this scene is significant to my theory in that she appears, does her little bit, and then viktor meets singed, who shows actual sustained interest in him and his toy boat, and lets him hang out so they can ''be loners together''. this is a seed planting moment in so many ways and it even threatens to come full circle next week if singed is going to revive viktor again. this very well may well have been when the arcane, through sky, ''chose'' viktor, or at least decided that his story is to be put into motion now, and set him on the path. he literally gets up and starts following his boat down a river.

i'm also pointing out the butterflies in this and jayce's flashback scenes. i dont have much to say about them that a lot of other people havent already especially since butterflies and insect imagery started popping up Everywhere for jayvik in season 2, but yeah *vague hand wave* im pointing them out.

pausing scene analysis for a moment to talk about the idea of viktor really being The Center Of All Of This, as caitlyn said in the act 3 trailer, before i go onto the next bit.

viktor, for this whole show, has been so unbelievably doomed, and it's ramped up to the nth degree in season 2. he's felt especially at the mercy of outside forces to the point where me and everyone else are starting to get real tired of the lack of agency the story is affording him. he becomes terminally ill, he rages against the dying of the light for a bit, but then shit gets scary and he makes jayce promise to destroy the hexcore (and let him die), he gets jinx nuked, jayce revives him explicitly against his wishes, comes back from time prison and kills him again, its a mess. its infuriating. i think that viktor's entrapment by the narrative, and everything becoming more hopeless and out of his hands, is going to be extremely important in act 3. that him giving the biggest Fuck You to his arcane destiny and tearing away from the narrative with claws and teeth is going to be the moment he becomes our machine herald.

i wrote a much shorter post about this earlier, but since then i've also become confident that the bad ending apocalypse wizard viktor himself is who sends jayce back to destroy the hexcore, effectively breaking the cycle and thrusting viktor's story into uncharted waters, which he will Gloriously Evolve above, but only after singed puts him through hell and fills him with resentment for jayce.

ok back to scene analysis

viktor has already come close to breaking free of his predetermined path before. in the context of this theory, viktor's beautiful hopeful triumphant moment, seemingly having a massive breakthrough in rising above his fate and body, outrunning the boat, being immediately cut short by sky showing up and dying and throwing him into a pit of guilt, despair, and desperate need to atone, is in no way accidental. im about to spill whats probably going to be this post's most egregious sky character assassination so be warned i guess!!!!

to put it very bluntly, heres how this whole scene goes according to my theory. viktor gears up to transmutate himself again, but because he's doing so while so full of hope, in a way that's threatening to break him out of his doomed narrative, maybe even just the fact he's doing it to himself instead of jayce doing it in a frantic attempt to save him from death, sky steps in. viktor must die, physically, emotionally, before he becomes the magician.

sky takes the drastic measure of ''killing herself'' in order to curse viktor with the crushing guilt that would morph him into someone who desperately needs to pay for what he did. fix the world, no longer as a driven idealistic scientist, but all consumingly, obsessively, and devastatingly.

if sky didn't intervene, viktor presumably still would've become some form of magical purple guy, but it wouldve been... the best possible timeline? a timeline completely untainted by death? like imagine the cocoon emergence scene and that conversation with jayce but a version where he's not absolutely destroyed by guilt surrounding sky. he was so, so close to just outright winning the game.

as sky's walking down the hall thinking about how she's going to pitch her ''private project'' to viktor, she says something that's potentially a massive red flag hidden in plain sight. she says that she's been working on it for weeks, then changes her mind and says she's been working on it for a year. that's... a huge time difference? if it was months vs a year it would sound much more organic, but weeks vs a year? of course in the real life ''everything im saying here is bullshit'' world she's just figuring out how to pitch herself and sound impressive, but whichever way you look at it and no matter her intent, she was preparing to lie to viktor here.

back in my delusional mind palace, i think viktor's full transmutation attempt takes her (the arcane/the narrative) by surprise - she was formulating her next move here, but it becomes her having to throw a spanner in the works immediately in order to keep him on the path of despair, of death and guilt.

so sky's a pile of ash now. sky is a pile of ash. she wasn't absorbed by the hexcore, on the contrary it looks to be actively pushed away from it (metaphorical skin shedding?) something else is happening for her to be manifesting herself to viktor in season 2. there's also that extremely ominous freezeframe of her when viktor picks up her glasses, but i cant for the life of me get a screenshot of it.

viktor picks up and starts reading sky's journal, and i'll be honest i cant really find any hidden message in her words there apart from the idea that this wide eyed, sweet, idealistic girl that viktor has just let down drastically is some kind of persona. it does stick out to me how much sky seems to envoke a younger viktor - someone who's stuck in an assistant role when she has her own big dreams. This tragic reveal that this cute but inconsequential background character had an inner life and goals too… it's a shock! And it’s all very personal. He paid her barely and mind and now she’s dead because of him, this poor girl who was inspired, by him, to change the world, just like him. It’s like. It’s so tailor made to make him feel like shit.

the next thing that happens is viktor gets Big Mad and tries to smash the hexcore, but it goes ''nuh huh!'' and makes him fall over in a show of power over him. he's firmly stuck in this narrative now, and he wont be breaking out again for a while. the mask is off and his story is locked. he will die, one way or another, and come back to destroy the world.

viktor cant break himself out of the narrative anymore, it has him by the neck and it makes sure he knows it, but someone else promises to.

and he cant, initially. it takes betrayal through reviving him with the hexcore (exactly what it wants). it takes a guilt-ridden viktor being overtly guided along by a much more suspicious sky, for him to get so in his head about this cult shit that it approaches the event horizon of becoming all consuming, it takes jayce being trapped in a time loop desperately trying to find any possible way around this. but the destruction of the hexcore, the narrative, sky, the destruction of the arcane within viktor is the only way for him to truly gloriously evolve.

jayces love for viktor was dooming him into becoming the arcane that ends the world, and the only way to chart a new course was by truly saving him. destroying the hexcore, sky, freeing him from the narrative, at the ultimate cost of viktor's love for him.

#post #arcane #arcane spoilers #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayvik #sky young #if you read all of this. congratulations. clapping at you like in evangelion #doomed viktor theory #again I fully acknowledge this is purely ridiculous but I refuse to believe That’s It when it comes to sky #if literally a SINGLE WORD of this is true I’m gonna be laughing mostly because holy shit

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robbinghisdick · 2 months ago

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"Good afternoon, baby boy!" Wade cheerily greets, swinging himself over the back of the couch and dropping himself hard into Logan's lap. The older man grunts slightly, but doesn't push Wade off as the man pulls up his mask just enough to plant an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. "Where have you been all day?"

Now that he had gotten a good look at Logan's face... something was off.

Logan was quiet for a moment, considering. "Well, you know how I've been feeling sick lately?" He asked. Pain was nothing new for him. The weight of his bones and poison from the adamantium made sure to keep his body in some level of pain. One thing his healing factor prevented was illness. If he managed to get sick, he didn't stay sick for very long.

"Yeah and I said, "you should get that checked out" and you grumbled and whined like a dog being taken to the vet?"

Logan rolled his eyes and continued, "Well, turns out I'm pregnant."

It was one of those rare times Wade was rendered silent. The mask also made it annoyingly impossible to get a good read on his face.

Wade, meanwhile, was trying to gauge whether or not this was a good thing. Logan didn't seem particularly happy.

"How the fuck did we manage that?" Wade asked. "I mean, it's not like my cancer ridden body makes healthy little swimmers and you said the adamantium poisoning rendered you infertile."

"According to the doc, unless I literally don't have a uterus, there's always a freak chance," Logan sighed, leaning heavily back into the couch and running his hands over his face. "It doesn't matter either way. We can't have a baby."

Logan waited to see if Wade would agree or disagree with him. He found himself half tempted to rip the mask off so he could get a better read on him.

Who's to say the baby would even make it to term, and what then if it did? Have two dads who's lives were marked by death and tragedy? Two guys with a list of enemies a mile long and would target a kid without thinking twice? Their lives were messy and dangerous, they couldn't bring a kid into that.

There were a million reasons why they shouldn't bring a baby into the world, but that was all too much weight for Wade. "I mean, you're right, but like, what if it develops the wolverine claws in the womb and bursts out of your stomach alien-style? That'd be kinda cool."

Logan's nose crinkled in disgust, nearly shuddering at that mental image. "That's horrific, thanks."

Wade just grinned, cupping Logan's face with both hands and kissing him.

"But seriously, whatever you think is best."

...

Later that night, Logan stared up at the ceiling fan, the blade whirling at full blast because Wade insisted on snuggling despite how hot both of them ran. He was splayed out like the world's most clingy starfish, head on Logan's chest. It was clear he was still awake too as one of his fingers idly tracing over Logan's arm. This quiet, domestic routine had become the norm.

When Logan thought about it, they were truly in a better place than they had ever been before. Logan had a home and family. The mansion was a home, but this one was his. One he chose to share with Wade. He had friends who loved him, a partner that stuck with him no matter how grumpy he got. Hell, he wasn't even drinking or smoking as much as he used to.

There were still battles and hardships, but never before had there been such a strong sense of support and community.

Logan was... happy.

"Wade?"

"Hm?"

"I..." he trailed off, unsure. "I think I actually want to have the baby." He couldn't particularly explain it. For years he fought against being put in a fatherly role when it came to all the young mutants he had met and looked after. Somehow, though, the thought of going on that journey of parenthood with Wade actually seemed kind of exciting. He loved that man more than he'd ever be able to put into words.

Wade sat up so fast it made Logan flinch.

"Oh thank FUCK!" He exclaimed, reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp while he straddled Logan's lap. His eyes pratically sparkled as he looked down at Logan. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Logan stared back up, surprised. "Wait, you wanted to keep the baby?"

"Of COURSE I want to have a little baby wolverine with you!" Wade waved his hands as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Like, yeah I think we're probably not the best parent material in the world and Jesus the CHRIST is it terrifying, but I wanna be dad."

"Why the fuck did you not say anything earlier?!"

"I'm not the one carrying it!" Wade shot back. "Besides, I never thought I'd have kids anyways, so not exactly a deal breaker, sweetheart." He patted Logan on the cheek. "Also, you know how many orphaned and abandoned mutants we run into? We always had a chance. If only Laura were younger, coulda started there."

Laura was an adult by the time Wade came into Logan's as a romantic partner. She was still young, but not a kid that needed parents to look after her.

"So... we're gonna have a baby?" Wade asked, a grin on his face.

"We're gonna have a baby."

Wade surged forward to kiss Logan, enthusiasm rubbing off on him as he smiled against Wade's lips. His face was peppered with more kisses and whispered "God I love you so much."

When Wade calmed down a fraction, Logan had to bring him down a bit more. "I'm only a few months along, we don't know if the baby will even make it," he reminded him. So many things could go wrong it was terrifying.

"Nope! This little guy--gender neutral--is a little fighter!" Wade insisted, hand splaying over Logan's stomach. They're gonna make it and be beautiful, and then we get to name them something cool!"

Logan scoffed but couldn't keep the smile off his face. "We're not naming the baby after any of your cartoons."

"You are absolutely no fun," Wade pouted. "I'll sneak something by ya."

Logan just pulled Wade down into another kiss to shut him up.

...

((They name her Allura, from Voltron lmao.

Writing this has made me incredibly sad for reasons I'll say if asked, but decided not to say so y'all don't just get randomly sucker punched.

This is NOT movieverse, exactly, but just a vague timeline. Movieverse poolverine end up with the kid tho. Which you can read here.

ALSO YES I KNOW THIS IS THE 3RD BABY AU ON THIS ACCOUNT. I have problem. I don't even want kids 😭))

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #my fic #logan howlett #x men #marvel #allura wilson #trans logan

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 4 months ago

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everybody’s goin’ off the deep end (s.h. x reader)

A/N: Long time no see! I wrote this in the midst of Steve Harrington brain rot, I hope you enjoy! If you prefer, you can find it here on Ao3!

Summary: Your life has always been simple. Not necessarily easy, but simple. You know your way around the world you live in. You love your dad, your friends and your exceedingly nerdy babysitting charges. When you’re assigned to be Steve Harrington’s tutor because he is one step away from being kicked off the basketball team, you can feel things beginning to shift in your small town. And that’s just the beginning.

Friday, November 4, 1983

“I think it’s time we admit that this is hopeless.” Steve Harrington looked positively morose, hunched over his Hawkins High School issued copy of Macbeth for the third Friday in a row.

You did your best not to laugh, but he just looked so ridiculous leaning back in his chair far enough that the front legs rise off the ground, shoulders slumped and pencil tapping against the table rapidly. “It’s been ten minutes, and we’ve only made it through two pages.” If you hadn’t been anticipating the slam of the front two chair legs on the floor, you would have jumped out of your seat. You had several times in the past few weeks, even.

But by now, you had the routine down. For the first fifteen minutes, Steve would joke and grumble, hoping that you would offer to cut your session short. Had he been assigned any other mandatory tutor during the meeting with Ms. Chen, the school counselor, and two out of three of his basketball coaches, he would have had a shot. But you’d had one too many reluctant students stuck in front of you at a library table in your time to give in to his whining.

“Exactly!” He tapped his pen against the copy of Macbeth in front of him on the desk, accentuating his point. “Two pages in ten minutes is a horrible track record!” His eyebrows drew together, as they always did when he was particularly pouty. “Besides, Mrs. Brown already spoiled the whole thing.” You raised your eyebrow, continuing to make notes in your already extensively annotated copy. “Calling it a tragedy in class kind of ruins the ending, you know?” You missed the way Steve’s eyes sparkled as you threw your head back in laughter.

“That’s just the type of play, Steve. There’s comedies, tragedies, like Macbeth, and histories.” You glanced over to see Steve slumped over the table, his cheek resting on his hand. “It might be helpful to write that down.” He blinked, seemingly confused for a moment. “For the test?”

“There’s going to be a test?” Steve looked mournful.

“I know that Mrs. Brown went over the syllabus on the first day of class. And there have definitely been tests over the other two books so far. What do you mean what test?” You looked up from your folder, where you had been shuffling through past syllabi to find a lopsided smirk on Steve’s face. “You can’t do that, Steve!”

“I’m offended you bought that! You know I’m taking this seriously.” He looked slightly sheepish at the realization you might not believe him. You took a moment to consider. You’d started studying together a few months ago, and Steve had been remarkably punctual, and had yet to cancel a session. He’d only forgotten to bring his work once and remained apologetic the whole session, even when you’d reassured him that it was fine. You’d spent the hour hunched over your notes with him beside you, you providing insight into the short story from class while Steve did his best to make you laugh.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Steve’s eyes grew wide, mock astonishment clear on his face. “An apology?”

“Oh my god, shut up, Harrington.” You playfully roll your eyes, before sliding your own copy of Macbeth towards him. “Trade me.”

Steve glanced down at your copy, grinning. “Do they know you’re defacing school property, Ms. Clarke? I’m not sure that your father would approve.”

“My dad spends all day trying to convince middle schoolers to retain information about layers of the Earth’s crust. He’d just be glad I am taking an interest in an academic pursuit.”

“Even if it’s English?”

You smile to yourself, remembering the year you had to admit to your dad that your Science grade was not what it should be. You’d built being that daughter of Scott Clarke, science enthusiast and Earth and Biology Teacher extraordinaire of Hawkins Middle, up in your mind to be a heavy burden to bear. You’d been so afraid to hand your report card over, but he’d diligently ignored your C- and instead waxed poetic about your perfect English score. “Finally, someone to round out the knowledge base in this house!” He’d beamed and loaded you into the car for ice cream with an urgency unbecoming of the situation.

“Especially if it’s English.” You leaned over the table, quickly finding where you and Steve had left off in your copy and pointing it out to Steve. “Start there, let’s try again.” You made it through the next two scenes, with only minor detours, usually when Steve found one of your annotations particularly amusing.

The door to the library squeaked open, breaking your focus. Nancy and Barb hurried over to your table, crowding around your study materials. “Macbeth cannot possibly be so interesting that you forgot we had plans.” Nancy joked, Steve’s arm settled over the back of the chair. Nancy insisted it ‘wasn’t anything serious’ but you caught them making moon eyes at each other the last few times that your tutoring sessions ran over, and you could have sworn that last week he slipped his number into her notebook when he thought no one was looking.

You glanced up at the clock, cringing internally when you realized you were, in fact, fifteen minutes late to meeting your best friends in the parking lot. Across the table, Steve let out a heavy sigh. “We were a little too into the ghost of Banquo in here.”

Barb gave Steve a weird look. You were almost sure that she was going to say something, her eyebrow was quirking up in the way it usually does when she is about to be snarky, but the moment passed, somewhat awkwardly, but passed all the same. “I’ll see you next week, Steve.” You stood up from your chair, Nancy and Barb following your lead. Steve started to slide your copy of Macbeth back to you across the table. “Keep it, maybe you can get through a few chapters on your own before I see you again.”

“You firing me, Clarke?”

“I don’t think I have the power to fire you from mandatory tutoring, Harrington.”

Steve gifted you a rarity, one of his genuine smiles that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly before standing up and heading for the library doors. “See you on Monday, Ladies!” He offered the three of you a joking salute and a wink before heading for the parking lot.

“Doesn’t he know we are all going the same way?” Barb said, breaking the silence of the library. The three of you dissolved into giggles, and you took your time packing your book bag, not not in the hopes that you would avoid running into Steve again in the parking lot. As much as you loved Nancy, it was almost painful for you and Barb to watch her try to keep whatever is going on with her and Steve from the two of you.

______________________________________________________________

“What about this?” Nancy held up a pink blouse off the rack, eyebrows raised.

“It’s nice, Nance, but I just can’t understand the urgency.” You laughed. The three of you’d had plans to head to Benny’s for milkshakes, as you did every Friday, but on the way Nancy had begged to stop at Pam’s, the clothing store downtown. Reluctantly, you’d parked your dad’s car out front and let her drag the two of you inside. Nancy ducked her head, blush taking over her cheeks as she put the shirt back. Her dismissive muttering could barely be heard over the store’s speakers, blaring the new Cyndi Lauper single.

“Oh come on, Nance.” Barb rolled her eyes, snatching the blouse off the rack again. Nancy’s eyes were wide as her head snapped up to meet Barb’s gaze. “You are horrible at this. Just tell us what’s going on with Steve!”

Nancy grabbed for the shirt, but Barb was holding it over her head while you did your best to hold in your laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Nancy grabbed for the shirt, looking back at you over her shoulder clearly asking for help. All you could do was shrug.

“We saw him put his number in your notebook, and the last two times I called your line was busy! It’s never busy!” Nancy’s blush was creeping down her neck. She gave up the fight for the blouse, looking at you accusatorially. Another shrug, and a nod had her looking like she was going to stomp her foot.

“I just-“ she paused, taking a deep breath “I need to make sure that Steve Harrington isn’t going to steal both of my friends.”

“Barb what are you talking about?” On some level, you could understand why she was worried about Nancy. It wasn’t typical for the three of you to have secrets. But you’d tutored countless people, or joined different after school activities, and she’d never worried about the state of your friendship before.

Barb hesitated, suddenly looking ashamed. “Nothing, it’s-” she dropped the hanger back on the rack, her hands twisting together nervously. “It’s nothing, swear.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. You and Nancy shared a look, not entirely convinced.

Without a word, the two of you wrapped your arms around Barb sandwiching her between the two of you as you had done since preschool whenever someone was having a hard day. It had been a while since you’d had reason for a best friend sandwich, but when Barb wrapped her arms around the both of you, leaning her head on top of Nancy’s, you knew you’d made the right choice. “You should get the shirt, Nance. I think Steve will really like it.” Your voice came out muffled, and you couldn’t see Nancy’s face because it was smushed into your arm, but you would have sworn that you felt her smile.

______________________________________________________________________________

You pulled into the Hawkins Middle parking lot doing your best to keep your smile from turning into a grimace. Nancy had been stuck debating between two options at Pam’s for a solid twenty minutes, and after Barb’s minor breakdown, you hadn’t felt it was the time to rush anyone. You threw the car into park and barely managed to stop yourself from sprinting as you headed for your dad’s classroom. The tension left your chest when you heard the screaming from down the hall. In any other situation it would have had the opposite effect, but hearing the AV Club chattering away meant that even if you were running late, your dad is running later.

“Like I said boys, it should be here next week but there is just no telling for sure.” Your dad had run the Hawkins Middle AV Club for as long as you could remember, but he had never had such an enthusiastic membership. In years past, you’d stop by a meeting or two after outgrowing the appropriate age for club participation, but you’d babysat for a few of the kids before, and you had a special soft spot for them. The unanimous, synchronized exclamations of “Bea!” as you rounded the corner led you to believe the feelings were mutual.

Bea was a nickname that had pulled double duty since you were little. Bea, as in short for Beatrice, your middle name after your grandmother who had passed long before your arrival, and Bea as in bumble bee. You were a Bea to everyone, but when your dad used the name, you both knew the difference. You gave everyone a warm smile and a small wave, plopping down in a desk close to the door.

“As soon as it comes in, you all will be the first to know.”

“And the only ones to care.” Mike muttered, causing you to hid your smile behind your hand, in an effort not to encourage them. The boys almost instantly began to speak over one another, calling dibs on who got the first go, where they should call first. Your dad gave you a smile that said ‘there’s nothing I can do about this’.

You coughed a few times, gaining the boys’ attention. “You guys do know you are cutting it close if you want to be somewhere with cable, so you can catch the new episode of that Dungeons and Dragons show. It comes out on Fridays, right?” The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, before they started hastily shoving books into backpacks and tearing out of the room. You stuck your head out of the doorway, calling after the boys to remind them you would see them at the Wheeler’s on Sunday. You were planning on studying for your chemistry test with Nancy. You had probably fifty vocab words to make flashcards for, not to mention the equations and elements you needed to know for your test next week. They waved without turning around before sprinting out the doors of the school.

______________________________________________________________________________

Sunday, November 6, 1983

You’d been able to hear the boys screaming in the basement from your spot on Nancy’s bed for the last few hours. You had a rare weekend off from babysitting, as most of your regulars were currently 9 hours deep into a Dungeons and Dragons campaign in the Wheeler’s basement. Weekends without a babysitting gig were more frequent now that the boys were old enough to bike home from school alone. You would watch Lucas’s little sister on occasion, and Holly more regularly, but it was far more common to end up at the Wheeler’s with Nancy for a while and then offer give the boys a ride home. They would take you up on it if the weather is bad but more often than not, they preferred to race home.

You and Nancy had been pretending to study for the same amount of time. You’d arrived with the best of intentions, your bag heavy with notecards and textbooks, but Nancy had a new copy of Tiger Beat, and then she’d launched into an hours-long grievance against Steve having yet to take her on a real date. Apparently, grabbing a milkshake after school didn’t count, “we do that all the time anyways”, and a makeout session in his care was not cutting it either, “besides it was only like, one time”. Ever since Barb had weaseled the confession out of her at Pam’s, it was like the dam was broken. You’d managed to corral her into focusing on studying for all of ten minutes while you secretly contemplated if it was over stepping to bully him into just asking her to go steady if it meant you got your study partner back, when her new blue phone started ringing on her bedside table. She popped up to answer it, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You’d made double the note cards she had and you still had two chapters to go. You’d largely tuned her out until you heard Steve’s name.

Your eyes snapped to Nancy’s, a blush already having taken over a vast majority of her face. You heard some murmuring from your spot across the bed, but nothing that you could make out clearly. Maybe he was finally working up the nerve to invite her on a proper date. Her shoulders deflated, and the blush was quickly receding from her face when she looked at you. Without a word, she held the phone out to you.

You frantically shook your head, she shoved the phone farther across the bed, causing the base to tumble onto the floor, pulling the handset out of her grasp with it. You both scrambled for the phone but Nancy was quicker, snatching it off of the floor and holding it up to your ear. “Hello?” You asked, wincing when your voice came out squeakier than you were used to.

“Hi, I, uh, I called the number you gave me but your dad answered. Said you’d be here.” Steve sounded almost bashful, which was not something you were used to hearing from him.

“Did my dad say something to you?” Nancy leaned her head closer to the receiver, and you adjusted to make more room for her.

“Just that learning is a voracious and exciting river, and you have to give yourself over to the current, or something.” Nancy started to giggle, you gently shoved her back against her pillows.

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Did you,” you pause, struggling to sound less surprised than you were, “need something, Harrington?”

“I just,” he paused, and you could almost see the way his gaze gets stuck on the ceiling while he tries to work up the nerve to say something he is worried will make him sound stupid. “I needed to know what was up with Lady Macbeth’s weird bloodstain monologue. All you had in the margins was that she was ‘wickedly fucked’. Don’t get me wrong, you’re right, I think anyway, but why is she so crazy all of a sudden.”

You sighed. You’d given him your number after he’d canceled a session during lunch after you and your dad had already arranged the car schedule one too many times, and begged him to call if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it as soon as he could. It wasn’t exactly for study emergencies, not that you had ever really expected Steve Harrington to have one. “She and Macbeth have swapped how they were at the beginning. Remember how you said he was being a bitch and she was a badass for plotting Duncan’s murder?” You could hear his hair rustling against the speaker, and you could picture him nodding through the phone. It didn’t seem like the time to remind him there was no possible way you could see him. “Well, now she is regretting rushing in and being brash, and he has fully accepted what the witches said at the beginning.” “That it’s his destiny to be the king?” “Yep, you’ve got it. The whole thing is about how power and ambition is corrupting.” More rustling. “Steve, are you nearly done with the play?” “I finished it, that one part was bugging me that’s all.”

“You finished it?!” You winced at the surprise that was clear in your voice. Nancy had not looked this confused since the time you told her the boy’s campaign had actually been interesting the last time you watched them as a group after Joyce got called in for a last minute shift, and Jonathan had photography club, rendering him unavailable. You shrugged, not sure how to explain it.

“Your notes were really helpful, and funny. I didn’t mean to but, yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I just, you said that reading Macbeth was worse than taking sandpaper to your eyes.” He’d looked like Mike when he was ten and realized that you had tricked him into finishing the steamed broccoli his mother had left for dinner, the picture of theatrical disgust.

“I said your notes made it better, didn’t I?��

You blinked a few times as Nancy scooched back to your side. “Well, I guess we will have a lot to talk about on Monday, then.” “Yeah, yeah. Um, tell Nancy to have a good night.” He went silent for a moment, and you searched for the right words. “And you too.” He added, derailing your train of thought.

“Sure, Steve, goodnight.” You placed the phone back on the base as if it were a live bomb. “What was that?”

“What do you mean what was that? You’re the one he was calling!”

You gasped. “If one of us is more accustomed to receiving phone calls from Steve Harrington, it’s going to be you!”

Nancy rolled her eyes, a signal as clear as ever that she was gearing up for what she liked to call a lively discussion, and you hated to admit was an argument. Before she could, the phone rang again. You held your breath, preparing to hear Steve’s voice through the phone. Thankfully, it was Barb calling to ask if Nancy needed a ride to school tomorrow, she did, and if they had been studying for Kaminsky’s test, sort of. The conversation quickly devolved into talking about Steve after Barb asked if Nancy had heard from him. Nancy was recounting the awkward conversation you’d just finished and you were doing your best not to help when there was a knock on the door frame.

You glance up to see Dustin standing at the threshold of Nancy’s room, holding a pizza box. He shook it enthusiastically. “There’ two slices left if you want ‘em, sausage and pepperoni!”

You are about to nod enthusiastically when Nancy tells Barb to hold on. She leaves the phone on the bed and shuts the door in Dustin’s face. “Nance!” You frown at her, and you’re off the bed and out the door before she can respond. “Dusty, wait up!” You call when you get to the top of the stairs, catching a glimpse of his hat disappearing around the corner. You find him in the kitchen, depositing the pizza box on the counter. “Did you finish the campaign?”

“Nah, we just got to the fight with the-”

“With the demogorgon? Mike was telling me about it when I was here watching Holly last week. He seemed pleased with the planning.” Dustin shrugged, looking unusually gloomy. “Is this about Nancy?” Another shrug. You throw an arm around his shoulders, walking him to the backdoor. “She didn’t mean it, she’s having a weird night.”

“Seems like she’s been having a weird year.” He mumbled, pulling the door and stepping outside. “There’s something wrong with your sister,” he announced, making his way over to his bike, where it sat in the Wheeler’s garage.

“What are you talking about?” Mike huffed, exasperated.

Lucas was quick to chime in. “Yeah, it’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” His gaze shifted to you, looking guilty.

You held your hands up in the air in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I’m just trying to keep him from getting kicked off the basketball team on account of his English grade.” A touch of mirth made it’s way into your eyes. “Didn’t you hear, we might actually have a shot at State this year.” The boys dissolved into giggles, kicking up the stands on their bikes, fully aware that you had never the willpower to know anything about the school’s sports teams.

“The day that you care about the basketball team is the day that Will rolls two nat twenties in a row.” Lucas laughed. Will was a notoriously bad roller.

You ruffled Will’s hair, discreetly checking to make sure all of the boys had their bags and the flashlights on their bikes turned on. You’d been called late at night over forgotten homework one enough that you did your best to confirm they had anything before they got too far down the street. Lucas rolled his eyes. “We have everything mom.” The rest of the boys shook with laughter.

“Let’s see how you feel being woken up at eleven o’clock over missing math homework, and then we can talk. Are you sure you guys wouldn’t rather have a ride home?” The boys shook their heads in unison, rebuffing you when you asked fi they were sure.

They confirmed one more time that you had no updates about the new radio your dad had ordered for the AV club, before beginning to pedal away. “Be safe, boys!” You called, stepping inside, leaving Lucas and Dustin’s unified “We will!” And the sounds of Mike and Will talking softly drifting in from the garage behind you.

You quickly said your goodbyes to Mr. And Mrs. Wheeler, stuck your head in to say goodnight to Nancy and gave Holly a hug before heading out to your car. By the time you got home, your dad was in bed, a note on the fridge reminding you about your early wake up time for tomorrow, so that he could be at Hawkins’ Middle to receive a package. You were thoroughly tired by the time that your head hit the pillow, but somehow, a pit had formed in the bottom of your stomach. It wasn’t often you tossed and turned, but when you did, you were an old pro. You lasted fifteen minutes before crawling out of bed and setting yourself up on the couch, a cup of tea and a worn old copy of A Wrinkle in Time your dad acquired in high school. It was your favorite bedtime story growing up and it usually did the trick even now. You read until your eyes got heavy and your tea grew cold, before dragging yourself back to bed in the hopes of feeling more like a well rested, responsible, functioning human in the morning. If you were being honest, the chances of that were slim.

next chapter

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #Steve Harrington #Joe Keery #Joe Keery x reader #Steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things

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wistfulnightingale · 26 days ago

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Purged by Fire (or, Crowley as The Romantic Hero of Good Omens)

Mini-Meta #6 (Based on my Meta Analysis "Somewhat Heroes")

Does this scene make your heart flutter just a bit, like mine does? Crowley arrives, Bentley blazing, Queen music blaring. He blithely hops out of the flaming car with the sensual swagger of a lover meeting his partner for a romantic picnic on a windswept hill. Crowley greets Aziraphale as if no one else exists! Despite Shadwell's "trigger finger" in the foreground, we get a sunset shot of the young lovers. Like an old cinema movie, they are silhouetted and dappled with light.

Crowley leans in towards his Beloved. Their hair barely brushes Crowley's face. The Lover is so close that he breathes in the familiar fragrance. ("I know what you smell like!"). His Beloved was in Distress, but He's here now! Crowley's voice is deep and gentle as he murmurs, "Leave it to me." The Romantic Hero will rescue his Beloved once again, here at the climax of all the adventures they've ever had!

Crowley languidly strolls to the armed soldier. Everything's under control now, Crowley is here... "Army Human, my Friend and I have come a long way..." They arrived separately, after conflict and tragedy -- but none of that matters, they're together again. Here. Now. They will get through this, and they will finally have their Happily Ever After...

Suddenly, the scene shatters. A bike bell jingles, the Them ride through the gates, the soldier runs after the kids, and the Bentley explodes. We're thrown into a different old movie -- a tragic love story where the Hero is silhouetted against the sunset Grieving His Beloved! :D

Part of the joy of Good Omens is that it has so many serious things to say, without ever taking itself toooo seriously. This moment is one of them! But we love Crowley. We're supposed to. And he's so darn lovably human!

That's the point, though, isn't it? A Romantic Hero of Classic Cinema is often someone so glorious that they don't belong in Real Life. Unattainable. Maybe even aloof, above the fray. Despite his pretense and shields, Crowley is anything but aloof, and he struggles with the fray as much as any of us who are "Human Incarnate."

Crowley loves to play the Romantic Hero, and Aziraphale loves to set up dramatic situations for him, to let himself be rescued. It's a sweet and romantic game they play. (Full confession -- I should have put in the shot with Azi in the foreground, looking at Crowley. But Ooooh, this photo looks So Good!)

In Season 1, however, Crowley never quite gets to fulfill that role in a Classic way. Even when we examine the Classic Steps of a Hero's Journey, he doesn't meet those criteria either (nor does Aziraphale). But it's because he's not meant to be a Classic Hero above the rest of us. He (and Azi) are just like us -- they fumble along. They make bad choices and heroic choices and say stupid things sometimes and say noble things occasionally, just like we do.

The Heroic Journey that Crowley does travel, however, leads our demon to discover his greatest fear, and to overcome it. He had believed that his greatest fear was Punishment by Hell. It had happened enough before, and it was horrible. (See my Mini-Metas #1 and #4 for more on this.). After Hell kidnapped him from Edinburgh, he was punished so terribly that his corporeal body was stiff and straight, and he'd needed a cane (#4).

Crowley's fear of Hell kept him from recognizing what his Truly Greatest Fear was -- the fear of losing Aziraphale, and of facing eternity without him.

When Crowley loses Aziraphale, the optimistic demon loses all hope. He gets drunk, gets swallowed up by his most painful memories (The Fall), and waits for Armageddon. When Aziraphale returns to him, he is restored, renewed, and faces every obstacle with no visible fear. He has been purged by fire. Crowley finally recognizes himself for who he truly is, not defined by his demon identity. Neither the threats of Hell nor his own fears of being "Unforgivable" stand in his way anymore. Their Happy Ending is possible, but he will have to fight for it. And he's ready this time...

Once Crowley realizes his own worth, no obstacle seems insurmountable. He will fight for his Beloved, and he will not let their chances slip away. Crowley faces Hastur in the Bentley without fear. He survives the Hellfire of the M-25 by sheer willpower and "Imagination". Even when the unvanquishable Satan approaches, for the sake of Aziraphale, he does not give in. If Satan wins, it will not be Aziraphale's choice to "never speak to [Crowley] again." They would be eternally parted, and likely one or both would no longer exist. In a heroic act, Crowley stops time, and Our Ineffable Somewhat Heroes give Adam the knowledge he needs to overcome Satan himself.

And that night, after it's all over, in that brief interlude before they'll face their enemies again, the romantic moment of fulfillment happens. Quietly. Gently. No musical crescendo, no sweeping panoramas or even a clear view of the stars. Just a very gentle and loving demon on a bus stop bench with the angel he loves. He offers. The angel considers, uncertain. Crowley is tender, patient, accepting. The bus arrives. The angel is still thinking.

And when they get on the bus, as Aziraphale reaches the seat where Crowley waits, the demon takes his hand down from the railing. He is subtle, he rests his hand low. I imagine a small gesture, an extension of the fingers, an invitation.

As Aziraphale sits down, he takes Crowley's hand. (It's canon.)

It's a Promise. A vow. It's the moment they've waited 6000 years for. And now they are ready to fulfill it.

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley is gorgeous #crowley x aziraphale #crowley loves aziraphale #somewhat heroes #the hero's journey #wistfulnightingale #crowley is a cinnamon roll and deserves all good things

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sierrawitch · 14 days ago

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Celtic Customs: Death

by autumn sierra

In honor of my friend who just recently lost a loved one, and my sister who witnessed a tragic death that she was helpless to prevent, I thought it the proper moment to reflect and write on some Celtic death customs and traditions of remembering passed loved ones.

Scotland

Before burial, the body of recently passed relatives were kept in the home, dressed and in their own beds. Family and friends would throw a celebration in honor of their lives. The Scots view death as an opportunity to both mourn the loss of a soul, but to laugh and be merry in their memory to find balance in contrary. All the furniture in the departed’s home—especially mirrors—would be covered with white linens and everyone would play music, dance, sing, and share stories around the hearth to keep memories alive.

A traditional custom practiced by the older members of the family and community include a plate of salt and a plate of soil laid on the chest of the deceased person. The soil represents the body as a physical vessel, and the salt represent the purity of the soul. It was thought that without this ritual, the ghost would not be able to rest, and would haunt their family.

Another custom was to stay up at night and watch the body, also known as a lykewake. This is now seen as a sign of respect for the deceased, but in olden times people believed that the devil would steal the body of their loved one unless they kept safe watch over it. The youth of the family were given whiskey at the beginning of the night and some tea or beer with bread at some point in the middle of the night, and would take on this responsibility for the family. The watchers would tell stories, reminisce, and sometimes recite verses from the Bible.

It was also considered bad luck to see the body of the recently deceased without touching it. A week of bad dreams would follow unless this superstition was taken seriously.

Our perception of death in the modern world is one of detachment and taboo. Many people are squeamish about even seeing a dead body, much less watching or touching one in the night. But to the Celtic people, death was not a taboo thing which had to be hidden, as it is a natural, inevitable part of being alive.

The pivotal connecting moments of birth and death link the physical and metaphysical worlds to each other. Similar to the thinning of the veil during Samhain, we each witness a thinning of the veil when we are born, and when we die. In death, the spirit of the deceased moves across the veil and into the Otherworld, the lands of gods, sìth (spirits), and the deceased.

Ireland

The Irish are no strangers to pain and loss, having experienced famine, colonization, and poverty over its long history. There are many customs that have been cultivated over generations to venerate and remember the dead which are unique to their culture, but the Irish Wake is one of the most well known funeral traditions around the world.

Most likely giving root to Scottish customs, the tone of an Irish Wake is a time of mourning and celebration. It’s an opportunity to grieve and and honor life as a treasured miracle. Those attending an Irish Wake will participate and music making, singing, and drinking, especially if the deceased was an elderly member of the community, or ill long term. However, in the instance of a young person’s or child’s death, the wakes are much more solemn and respectful of the tragedy. Family and friends meet in the home of the deceased to recount memories together, grieve, and celebrate the life lost.

The exact origins of the Irish Wake are unknown, but it’s believed that it was heavily influenced by elements of Paganism and may have originated with the Ancient Celts. The Celts believed in life after death and thought that when a person died, they then moved onto a better life in the Otherworld. The Ancient Celts saw death only as a means for a new beginning, which is where the festivities come into play.

The Irish Wake incorporates the tradition of watching over the bodies of the deceased, and some say that the term ‘wake’ originates from the Irish tradition. Lit candles were placed closely around the body and tobacco was smoked by male attendees as they stood guard against the potential of the devil seizing the deceased. It was believed that the smoke would help keep malicious spirits at bay and stop the devil from stealing the soul. Clocks were also often stopped at the time of death and mirrors covered to further protect the body, as mirrors can act as portals to other—maybe not so friendly—worlds.

The Afterlife

In ancient Celtic religion, there was a belief in an afterlife in the Otherworld (as mentioned earlier), which is considered almost like a mirror of life on Earth but without disease, pain, and sorrow. This eliminated the aspect of fear when it came to passing on since the soul continues to live following its leaving the head (where it was believed to reside). Prayers were made to the Celtic gods, and sacrifices—both animal and human—food, weapons, and precious items were ritually offered to them to bless and allow safe passage of the deceased to the Otherworld.

The gods played a fairly significant role in the lives of the Ancient Celts as evidenced by their religious practices and the existence of protective amulets and talismans within their tombs. Alongside these, Celtic tombs and burial sites contained a wide range of objects, from tools to jewellery, which prepared the soul for the journey to the Otherworld (similarly to how the Egyptians prepared their deceased for the journey in the Duat).

Cremations & Burials

The Ancient Celts buried the deceased in tombs, and alternatively cremated their bodies, a practice beginning in the early second century. Excarnation was also not uncommon, during which the body was left exposed to the elements for a period and the bones were then either buried or kept for religious ceremony.

Burials of warriors and rulers were often rife with personal belongings and other treasures including weapons, armour, gold jewellery, and even large objects like chariots and waggons. Other common items included tools, extra clothing, grooming equipment, oil lamps, food, drink, eating utensils, and gaming counters, again, in preparation for their journey through the veil.

How do these customs compare to the ones of your culture, and your family?

What is your perception of death in relation to life, and how does it mentally or emotionally affect you?

Are you afraid of death? Why?

If you could personify who or what death is, what would that look like?

I urge everyone to challenge their instilled views of what death is and what it means not only for the people witnessing it, but also for those who go through its process. Many people fear that unknown reality, but it’s something we all share and experience eventually in life. You’re never truly alone. And isn’t that thought a bit comforting?

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working-dreamer · 2 years ago

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The Person Within: An Analysis Of Professor Layton's Hidden Character Development

Spoilers for practically all of the Layton games!

Hershel Layton as a character is sometimes criticized outside of the fandom for having no personality other than his gentlemanly nature and taking the concept of enjoying puzzles to the extreme.

While I think this criticism shows a blatant misunderstanding to his character, I do think from a different angle that perspective makes Professor Layton more interesting.

Think about it. Most of his personality is taken from the tragedy of those around him. Randall was the one who was originally obsessed with archaeology and puzzles. Claire was the one who originally perceived Hershel as a gentleman (thus giving him the idea.) We don’t really see Layton take these aspects of his personality onto himself until tragedy strikes and these people are taken away from his life.

In the case of Randall's death, Hershel blamed himself for surviving and moved out of town because of his self-loathing and guilt. And when Claire disappeared Layton paused his studies for an unknown amount of time trying to find out what happened until he was beaten into a coma by a group of people associated with her death.

And yet instead of grieving like you’d normally expect from a person who lost his best friend and girlfriend, he internalized their interests and aspects of their personalities into himself. He wears their passions and dreams as his own to remember them. In a way, he’s always reminding himself that he couldn’t save them.

However one might wonder how Layton really feels about those things outside of his previous losses. Does Layton even enjoy archeology and puzzles? Or is it something he has grown to accept in his life simply because he is living out Randall’s dream? Does he feel like he has a choice in the matter?

I can easily imagine Layton having doubts deep within himself: Randall didn’t get to live and it’s my fault. His dreams should live on. I don’t deserve anything else.

Same with Claire. She saw him as a gentleman but he certainly didn’t feel like one after her disappearance if his memory of events is to be taken seriously. How long did it take for him to turn into the perfect gentleman? Especially if it's just a painful reminder of her loss?

It’s probably after waking up from his coma that he starts to really embrace the idea that he has to be the perfect gentleman because he knows he can never get her back. So all he can do is embrace what she thought of him before she died. So with all of this in mind is Layton’s gentlemanly persona genuine to who he is as a person? Or is it just a persona created in order to keep her memory alive?

Layton has kept the shadows of his lost loved ones close to his heart for years and probably would have always done so had he never gotten any closure. However, when Randall turned out to be alive Layton now has the opportunity to let go of that guilt. Claire came back in the future momentarily and Layton got to say goodbye. He no longer needs to keep their personal traits as his own.

So why does he still embody Randall's passion for archeology and puzzles and Claire's perspective that he's the perfect gentleman?

I think it's because Layton doesn't know who he is without these borrowed parts of his personality. Without those aspects that he adopted into himself… who is Hershel Layton? Deep down he is someone who has silently mourned his loved ones and repressed those emotions. And yet most of his life has been embodying said grief. It makes me wonder if Layton would ever look deep within himself and realize that he doesn’t have anything to claim as his own. His entire personality revolves around past guilt and trauma from people he loved and lost.

Shoot even his name isn’t his own! Hershel Layton was actually the name belonging to his brother and in a moment of sacrifice switched names so our Layton could be adopted. So our Layton loses the only family member he has left without even knowing who that is for the majority of his life!

So we have a man who feels guilt and remorse for the deaths of his best friend and his girlfriend so he doesn’t allow himself to develop his own interests and personality because he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be his own person. It's even implied that he believed for a time that he didn't deserve to be the one who survived the events that killed his best friend and girlfriend. And then adding to the fact that he never knew his real family so he most likely felt a different kind of loss by not knowing where he came from. All and all we find a man that feels alone and tries to make it right by embodying the traits of those he cared about.

We don’t get to see Layton develop his thoughts on all of this but we do see an interesting development later on. I’d like to think that Layton slowly began to heal after his adventures thanks to adopting Katrielle in the anime.

This is because, for the first time in Layton’s life, he had a family to look after. Someone who doesn't need a mystery-solving archeologist or a perfect gentleman detective. Someone who doesn't need the grand "Professor Layton." This little girl just needs someone to be her father and, while he tries his best, he doesn't really know how to do that.

Sure he had a familial relationship with Luke and Flora, but he never called himself their father. I don’t think he allowed himself that privilege because of all the self-loathing he had been dealing with before. When he adopts Kat it feels like it’s the first time we see Layton truly allowing himself to be a father figure. And yet he is still uncertain about if he should be the one in this role.

Layton feels like his adopted daughter should know where she came from (something he didn’t get to have) before he can start thinking of himself as a father. He’s scared that if he gets attached then it'll hurt worse when she eventually returns to her own family should she decide that is her wish. But if he finds her family first then he doesn’t have the go through that heartache. He wants to find them first so she can make an informed decision.

And he says this with the logic that he always had as “Professor Layton” with that calm and collected smile. Notice that he says "I want to solve this puzzle so that we can become a true family." He doesn't say "so that we will become a true family." It’s almost as if he is going to let Kat decide if she wants to stay with him or go back to her real parents and that choice will be up to her. However, it's somewhat implied that he already thinks that she would naturally choose her real parents if she had the opportunity.

Despite his wishes to be her father, he still seems to be internally preparing himself to say goodbye (hence why he disappeared for so long in the first place.) He just doesn’t want to get too close to another person only to lose them and suffer alone again.

It makes sense why he is distancing himself, but he’ll still solve the mystery. It's what “Professor Layton” would do and he’ll have to accept whatever happens once Kat learns the truth. He doubts that she would still see him as her dad if she could be with her real parents. He doesn't even know himself outside of the role of "Professor Layton" so how can he be a true father to her? She'll go away with her real family eventually anyway. Why would anyone choose him?

And yet when he sees her again Layton is surprised when she immediately cries out for him. She still calls him papa. She wants him to be her papa.

In a public display of overwhelming emotion, we see Layton openly weep for the first time. He is so overcome by these emotions and for once doesn't repress them. He's just so happy to see his daughter again (to truly call Kat his daughter again) and allows himself to fully express those feelings for perhaps the first time in decades.

If Layton from the original game trilogy saw himself like this he would have been mortified by this “un-gentlemanly” behavior. His mindset back then was that a gentleman never cries because he has trouble coming to terms with his emotions. He even chastised Luke in Unwound Future because “a gentleman never makes a scene in public.”

However, he was never a gentleman for himself. It was always for holding onto the guilt of losing his loved ones while trying to honor their memories at the same time. But he doesn’t have to hold himself to those impossible standards anymore. He no longer blames himself for their deaths, he found closure, and now he has found himself in a family who chooses to love him not because of those attributes “Professor Layton” embodied, but because she loves him for the person hidden under that persona. And that is enough for Layton to openly weep as he embraces his child.

I believe Kat's words here helped Layton more than she'll ever know.

So who is Hershel Layton if he’s not a gentleman or a fan of archeology?

The solution to that puzzle is really quite simple.

He is a caring person. And that’s all he ever needs to be.

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mariabtsos · 5 months ago

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Unsinkable ||j.jk|| — Chapter 6

<– Previous | Index | Next ->

Description: The 1910s are the peak of passenger ships, it was also the peak of classism, Jungkook is a third class immigrant from Korea, and you are a first class “prisoner” not wanting to go back to a life of strict standards. Once you meet Jungkook, life seems worth living, but when tragedy strikes, will you guys make it out to live the life you planned?

Genre: Titanic AU, poor/artist!JK x rich!f reader, angst, fluff, very slight smut, forbidden love.

Warnings: ANGST, major character death, mention of grave injuries, blood, thoughts of death and drowning, descriptions of mass panic.

Word Count: 1.4k+

Jungkook was stressed, or maybe that was an understatement. He was almost able to get away from Yoongi's grip if it wasn't for the Master-at-Arms being right there. They left him in that room, handcuffed to a pipe whilst the aforementioned went back to the main deck to assist with the evacuation of the ship.

Jungkook didn't think that he would die in a sinking ship, he had done so many other dangerous things in his short life. He reminisced about the time he was ice fishing with Chris and the ice gave out underneath him, the water was so cold, but he was quick to get out. He’d been to those county fair roller coasters and gotten off just before a piece of the track fell apart. He didn’t usually consider himself to be lucky until now, when he realized he had taken all the other times he had escaped being seriously injured or worse for granted.

How long had he been handcuffed?

The room slowly filled more and more with water, slowly tipping over where he had to hold on to a pipe to ensure he wouldn't hurt himself or his wrist. He'd hoped his death would be quick, then again he'd known from a book one of his parisian muses let him read, that if pain is what you wanted, drowning was the way to go. He wished he could've seen you one more time, that he would have kissed your lips one more time.

His laments were interrupted by a door being broken open, and he was shocked to see you there, water almost up to your waist, accompanied by Chris and an ax. “Yn? Chris? What the hell are you doing?” He questioned as both of them pushed through the water to make it to him, “we're not going to let you die, Jungkookie,” Chris said.

Getting to Jungkook had been challenging, you had to escape your mother, Namjoon and Yoongi after they had dragged you to the first class staircase to wait, it took strength and you spitting on Namjoon's face, but you'd be damned to go live a life that would be worse than dying on this boat.

On your way down, you ran into three young men who you found rather quickly to be Jungkook’s friends, and at first, when all three found out what your lover's fate was, they wanted to go with you, Chris however, insisted if anything were to happen Jungkook would be angry if all four of them died.

It was a funny thing to have to think about at such a young age, death. They were all in their early 20s and you were barely 21, you had so much to live and yet right at this moment, it was uncertain whether you'd be alive in the next hour. Ultimately, Chris came with you because Jungkook had been his friend for the better part of 4 years, and he was not going to leave him to drown, at least not on his own.

Chris had walked you through how to use the ax and had you make a couple practice swings, before you moved on to your main target.

“You've got this darling, I know you won't hurt me,” Jungkook assured you, and you were doing your best to hold back your tears, because one wrong cut and you coming down here would be for nothing. But luckily that wasn't the case, the cuffs around his wrist split and now they were like two bracelets, you let go of the ax which made a big splash

He wasted no time bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly and kissing your head, and then hugging Chris, “we have to go if we want to make it to a lifeboat with Taehyung and Jimin,” the latter said, and you all made your best effort to run since there was no way of telling when the next burst of water would make it through.

It was unfortunately too soon.

The water came quick as you ran to the last working elevator, it sounded like a stampede of horses was running through the ship, the sound ever close as you finally had started to notice a difference in the water's height, you were starting to see your feet again, although a little too late.

You heard a loud groan, seeing that Chris had fallen behind, “Chan!” You heard Jungkook call, was that also Chris' name? “There was a hole in the wood, my foot’s stuck,” he struggled as attempted to get his foot out, Jungkook immediately jumped to help him, trying his best to be gentle, “damn you and your big feet,” his doe eyes were filling with tears they could now see the water coming quickly toward them, if they didn't get him out of there quick enough they would be dragged back, and would likely die.

“I don't care if my foot is hurt, just pull me out”

You joined in their attempts at liberating the poor man, and the screams that followed made you nearly burst into tears, it was just in time, as his foot popped out — you didn't dare look at it, afraid of it's condition — the water gushed down the hallway, loud impact of the waves against the walls of the ship, running for the small box that would bring you up to the main deck.

But it wasn't there, the gate was closed, and the lift was gone from where you had left it. You could feel your eyes swell with tears. Was this how you were going to go? Drowned in a ship never to be seen again? Because your body would most likely stay with the ship, would it even survive the depths of the ocean?

“There's a staircase this way!” Chris yelled, you saw the two men starting to run and so did you. As the water level kept getting lower thanks to what you could only assume was the way the ship was sinking.

It took some time, but you made it up the main deck just in time to see the chaos and panic. Men rushed to help lower the lifeboats, as well as women of all classes yelling for their husbands as they were placed in boats, or yelling for their children as they frantically looked through the main deck.

“LUCY?! Please has anyone seen my Lucy?! I can't leave the ship without her!” A mother screamed next to you, running through the crowd of people, looking through every nook and cranny. You watched as she went inside the boat once more, and you hoped she would be able to get out if she went any lower than any of the higher decks.

Your attention was ripped away when you heard the sound of gunshots ring.

“NO!” You heard a loud scream, seeing a circle forming in front of one of the lifeboats. The voice sounded familiar, and you hadn't realized you were moving until you felt Jungkook's hand sliding into yours, “you move quickly through a crowd,” the small joke making you chuckle. It was refreshing and appreciated. You pushed through, and once you finally made it to the front of the circle you dropped Jungkook's hand.

Yoongi was crying over Namjoon's body.

“I told you to stay back, women and children only!” The officer standing with his gun drawn spat back. “So you shoot him?! You incompetent fuck?!” Yoongi's eyes seemed to have a never ending stream of tears, his voice uneven. You knew that Namjoon and him were close since childhood, Yoongi had been working with Namjoon for a long time, his dad had worked with the aforementioned's family before Yoongi started to years later.

You slowly walked up to Yoongi, placing your hand on his shoulder “WHAT?!” He turned to you, his features softening, something he'd never done toward you, you looked down to see your ex-betrothed, his white shirt had a large scarlet stain in his stomach. “Ynie?” You heard him call, “Yoongi hyung?”

“We're here Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi sobbed, even in his weak state, Namjoon's dimpled smile made an appearance, “I'm sorry for being for being an ass to you Ynie,” you couldn't help the few tears that spilled from your eyes, the dragon eyed man stared up at your lover, giving him a stern nod which the younger man reciprocated, you sobbed watching the wordless exchange. “Take good care of them hyung,” he sighed.

You watched as Namjoon's grip on Yoongi's shoulder was slowly losing strength, until the only thing keeping their hands together was Yoongi desperately holding onto his best friend. You watched as he continued to sob for a few more minutes, the crow's dispersing in their own panic trying to reach a lifeboat, until he only sniffled.

“Let's get out of here,” Yoongi said sternly, “where are the rest of your friends Jeon?”

#bts fanfic #bts #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst

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captainuranium543 · 2 months ago

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Hi! I just wanted to know your thoughts on this post here: https://www.tumblr.com/yamishika/761491771751596032/something-that-has-been-bothering-me-regarding-the

Do you agree with this? Disagree with this? Was this just a light comedic moment? It def feels out of character for Jellal to a large degree. You have such great takes on Erza in general, that I wanted to check about this. I tried looking at your posts (now that I have better cell service) and didnt see this on your posts list. Apologies if you’ve covered it already. Thanks in advance!

the post in question^

thanks so much for this ask actually cuz I have been resisting the urge to yap about this forever and now I have an excuse ahaha.

honestly I completely agree, I've been saying it forever but as fairy tail has gone on Mashima has kind of stopped putting as much thought into it has he did early on. Early on the characters where the center of the narrative and honestly I think that's when ft is at its best because that has always been the best part if ft as a whole. The tower of heaven and the trauma Erza and Jellal faced along with countless others had so much impact on the story as late as season 6 because of just how massive a tragedy it was.

starting with Erza and Kiria, it feels especially disgusting for this to happen to specifically Erza because she has spent so much of her life being treated as less then human already. In the tower her purpose was literally to work herself to death, they needed sacrifices and lots of them. As soon as she wasn't useful to them anymore she would killed without a second thought and her life would only be another number added to the massive death toll of the r system project. she wasn't a person in there, she was a tool. Even after the tower she was still under someone else's control (on a leash you might say) with Jellal holding the lives of her friends over her head to keep her quiet, constantly taunting his power over her by spying on her with seigrain in the magic counsel. this is exactly what happens with Kiria and it feels genuinely horrifying to see it happen again but still its just played for fanservice and I find that incredibly irritating.

as for the Erza vs Jellal fight in the Aldoron arc, here we have a scene that is objectively horrifying to both of them. Erza and Jellal share INTENSE trauma associated with mind control and the loss of free will, and yet the scene is played for laughs and fanservice.

I do understand why Hiro did this, if they took the scene seriously it would probably set Jellal right back into his old ways again of avoiding Erza like the plague which he doesn't want because he's trying to push them closer together. I get that but its still feels like such a missed opportunity to give them some kind of emotional development which neither has had in so long. I'm gonna get into my own idea for the fight here so bear with me.

The fight begins and they intercut it with flash backs to the tower of heaven arc, or even further back to their actual childhood, showing how genuinely afraid of him Erza is right now while also trying to control herself and keep her "fight" instinct at bay because she doesn't want to hurt him. the fight from her perspective should be chaotic, rapidly throwing her between past and present while she desperately tries to hold onto a sense of reality and remind herself its not him.

now imagine this, at some point she loses control and really starts to spiral and he gets the upper hand. she's totally beaten and exhausted after trying to fight him and her demons at once and while she's on the ground he approaches her, lifts her up, and we get a call back to this scene.

throughout this fight we never really see Jellal's face, its mostly been from Erza's perspective and when we do see his face its a flashback to a different time while he was mind controlled. Now in the present jellal says something, idk what he would say exactly, but its something similar to the "it was the color of your hair" moment where it reminds Erza of something he said to her while he was himself. Erza finally snaps back to reality, she looks down at him and we finally get a clear view of his face in the present, and we see that he's crying.

that is enough to fully snap Erza back and finally give the fight her all, because its not just for her sake its for both of them. he would never forgive himself if he hurt her so she's going to have to be the one to do it even if it hurts because its the only way she's going to save him. and more than anything she wants to save him. (Again, call back to the tower of heaven, she was to late to save him then and it weighs on her to this day, she wont be to late this time.) anyway fight ends shortly after that she knocks him out and she's crying because obviously she never wanted to hurt him either she's just taking one for the team (like always but that's another rant). Just before Jellal passes out he looks at her and he thanks her for saving him (ONCE AGAIN CALL BACK TP THE TOWER OF HEAVEN but this time its not manipulation he's being fr showing us that its really him now). he passes out, erza gets up, looks back at him maybe one last time, says shes sorry, then goes off to go keep fighting. fight over

case and point I think this could have been sick as hell and i'm sad it didn't happen. its not that I have a problem with fanservice I just think it should be tasteful at least a little.

#fairy tail #yappin #jellal fernandes #erza scarlet #jerza #ig its kinda jerza #anyway yea i have thoughts on this #lots of em

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multifandumbmeg · 14 days ago

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How many times now have I said "I'm never opening Netflix again"? I love to just not take things too seriously and enjoy what I get when it comes to shows, all too often I've seen fans talk mad shit or abandon ship over perceived slights or minor infractions, but the past couple years I have been utterly gobsmacked by the egregious shit they have done. Incredible shows like Lockwood and Co getting cancelled after one season with zero explanation. Spin-off for Six of Crows being in massive demand, fucking stellar cast, COMPLETELY WRITTEN and then dropped. A multitude of multi-season shows taking a meteoric nosedive in writing quality that has me genuinely wondering, did they switch to AI for this?? Did they hire a wattoad teen from off the street??

Everyone's got their favorite cancelled show, but the recent trend of just absolutely sabotaging your most beloved shows on the way out instead of ending strong to keeping to ANY sort of character arcs or thematic consistency? Agonizingly heinous. If you saw my blog earlier this year you'll know how I felt about the final season of Umbrella Academy, one of the best shows the platform ever put out (viewers know. Not a soul was anything less than heartbroken, and it's rare to see universal opinions online) and today they crippled Outer Banks by writing off the most popular character- and in doing so the ship he was a part of- by killing him. A character once again (TUA reference, once again my fucking favorite ofc) who was abused in childhood, fucked over every moment in life until finally, finally having a chance at peace and then having it nonsensically ripped away for a completely devastating, unecessary, and thematically inappropriate to the show and arc reason. If they're trying to save their platform, they're sure as hell not gonna do it by annihilating every good thing they have.

And on a final note, the particular trend of taking abuse victim characters who have been nonstop shit on by life and then giving them equally tragic, miserable endings no matter what the earlier writers had clearly set up is so fucking disheartening, disrespectful, and dangerous. I can't recall one show they've put out that chose to tackle abuse, especially childhood abuse, that didn't end in a miserable person who was never able to meaningfully connect long term dying horribly. The message that sends to those of us who have actually experienced it- and are statistically prone to harming ourselves as a result- is that there is no hope. You are permanently broken. And sooner or later you will die a miserable death just like every moment you lived- there's no point. Why bother extending your suffering? Just get it over with. Meanwhile those responsible act like the response should be, "Oh yeah, and sad claps, how misfortunate. Just the way it goes I guess. We all love a good tragedy 😘". No. We don't. We are tired of it. We are exhausted. Society and reality fucking sucks right now, we don't need every single bit of media, regardless of tone or themes, to be "gritty" with its most vulnerable and beloved characters.

It's painful, it's personal, and it's not even a good business model! People love these characters BECAUSE we're rooting for them!! We want to see them win after all the suffering!! To remind us in our real lives it is possible, and life is worth it!!

#So fucking tired #And done with this shit #lockwood and co #outer banks #obx4 #Tua #the umbrella academy #tua season 4 #Tag your sabotaged favorite.

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loveinhawkins · 1 year ago

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Thinking again about theater kid Dustin so naturally I had to come to you 💙 Specifically I’m thinking about Dustin auditioning for a community theater production of Jesus Christ Superstar with an eccentric director who convinces Eddie to audition for Judas. He knows his reputation and thinks his notoriety will add an extra meta layer to the role (and get some butts in the seats he’s gotta keep the lights on somehow). Eddie is reluctant to put himself in the spotlight but ultimately does cause Dustin is excited about it. Also he’s really good? He plays it completely sincerely which no one is expecting, really leans into the interpretation that Judas was in love with Jesus and amps up the tragedy. (Afterwards Steve also asks him if that kiss with Jesus is in the script or…?)

i love this so much, thank you for sharing with me! ❤️ theatre kid Dustin is just so incredibly precious & i just love the thought of him having so much fun with it in his future. like i see him as such a little social butterfly, i think everyone in the theatre group would adore him (i’m always so upset when his peers make fun of him at the snow ball, no, that’s my boy!!!)

and oh my god Jesus Christ superstar yes!!! yeah i can see Eddie being so hesitant about it, like the thought of how certain factions of hawkins might still view him makes him nauseous.

but the director—who maybe knows through close-knit community theatre circles that a very young Eddie once played Action in West Side Story (i love your story so much ❤️)—has one last parting shot which convinces him.

“So you never want to have fun ever again?”

… Huh, Eddie thinks.

he still asks for Dustin’s approval, all too concerned with the thought that this is Dustin’s thing and maybe he’s overstepping or something, or—

“Holy shit, that’s some seriously impressive over-thinking,” Dustin says. “You’re my friend, asshole.”

And maybe he says it with a tone, but he means I wanna hang out more with you not less!

so Eddie takes the role and of course he’s brilliant—okay everyone’s got opinions on the auto tune used in Tim Minchin’s rendition but dear god the depths in his eyes, the acting. also maybe the director does a present day take like that version did & Eddie’s jokingly like “I could wear the hellfire tshirt” & the director’s eyes light up & Eddie quickly goes, “No. That was a joke, it wouldn’t even make sense.”—and maybe there’s something empowering in playing this figure when people once said his name and the Devil’s in the same breath.

Maybe, maybe.

and oh we all know who Eddie is thinking about when he’s singing:

I don't know how to love him I don't know why he moves me He's a man, he's just a man He's not a king, he's just the same As anyone I know He scares me so

and

Does he love, does he love me too? Does he care for me?

And oh on a lighthearted note, Steve asking if the kiss is in the script has me in hysterics, especially if this is pre-them getting together.

just the thought of Steve staring grumpily any time there’s a scene with Jesus & Judas—the guy who plays Jesus is maybe like a couple years older than Eddie, not originally from Hawkins perhaps so he’s kinda not fully aware of Eddie’s history & sure, he’s nice, but he’s just not on Eddie’s radar at all.

So when Steve asks if the kiss was in the script (not that he cares! At all! He doesn’t care! Look at how much he doesn’t care!), Eddie stares at him for a long moment and says, “Steve. Did you think I improvved the Bible?”

Dustin, who is also here—currently doing English homework up on a barstool in Steve’s kitchen while Eddie & Steve lounge on the couch—sighs very loudly and says, “How the fuck am I supposed to know what role dialogue plays in Much Ado About Nothing?”

Eddie waves a hand distractedly at him. “Just make it up.”

“I can’t just because my way through Shakespeare,” Dustin says, adds in a huffy undertone, “this isn’t one of your campaigns.”

Eddie mimes being stabbed in the heart. “Oh, betrayal!”

“So it was in the script?” Steve says.

“Oh for—yes, Steve, it was,” Eddie says. “It’s called acting. Also, it was on the cheek.”

“So?”

“So—ugh, just—” Eddie tugs on Steve’s wrist impulsively, while another part of his brain is screaming in vain for him to stop. “Come here.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m just showing you how fucking little it—”

I’m never finishing this essay, Dustin thinks. My home life is distracting and chaotic.

And Eddie kisses Steve very very chastely on the cheek, just to show it was nothing, that’s all, but Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his skin, the warmth of his lips, and Eddie doesn’t really think it through until he does it and then oh shit, his heart is pounding—

“Oh, yup cool,” Steve says. “That’s—yeah, wow, that’s it? Huh. I need some air.”

“From your own house?” Dustin says, to the front door already slamming shut.

And Eddie’s eyes are wide and shiny, like, did I fuck up, and it takes all of Dustin’s self control to not roll his eyes and slam his face into his book.

Then he softens a bit, remembers looking out into the audience and seeing Steve silently crying while Eddie sang You have murdered me.

“You’re so dumb,” Dustin tells Eddie as gently as he can. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Uh.” Eddie blinks. “Did I—should I…?”

Dustin sighs wearily, slings his backpack over his shoulder. And he has a parting shot of his own:

“I’m not waiting through another production for you two to get your shit together.”

#i hope this repays even a little bit the joy i had thinking about this! ❤️#dustin henderson headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #henderfam #steddie #eddie and dustin #steve and dustin #steddie ficlet #dustin henderson #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #JCS AU

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infinitywrites · 1 year ago

Text

I Didn't Expect You Part 4 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 3) (Masterlist) (Part 5)

gif credit @laurens-german

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups while Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears A LOT, 4th of July party, ANGST between Jeremiah/Conrad, ANGST between Conrad/Y/N, Nicole (sorry to this Queen), Conrad's friend Danny (made him into my own thing), hints of Belly/Jeremiah, I don't know shit about sports

word count: 4,141

___________________________________________

I feel like no one wants me

And I hate the way I'm perceived

I only have two real friends

'Cause I love people I don't like

All I did was try my best

Ego crush is so severe

God, it's brutal out here

Got a broken ego, broken heart

I decided I needed sustenance before heading into the lion's den and popped a bacon wrapped scallop in my mouth. Nicole sidled up next to me in no time, refilling her plate.

"Someone's got game." Her voice was low, unassuming and her eyes were focused on the desserts when I looked at her.

I almost spit out my margarita, "You're kidding, right?"

She giggled, "Nuh uh. I got to watch you in action twice now. Danny was eating out of the palm of your hand and even Cam looked weak."

"OhmiGod, Cam is Belly's ex!"

Nicole shrugged, "Okay, fair but I don't blame you for Danny cause he's definitely been working out." Our eyeline shifted to where he was laughing with Jeremiah and Steven.

"He's at school for a baseball scholarship, of course he works out." Her look of unabashed thirst would never not amuse me.

"Fuck, that's so hot." She looked like she was about to swallow her tongue.

Without another word Nicole walked off in his direction and I smiled as I watched her get her flirt game on and trail her fingers up his bicep. My mind drifted back to the house as I downed the last of my margarita before I headed inside to poke the bear.

He was in the kitchen, drinking from a dark liquor bottle when I walked in. His sullen eyes met mine for a long moment, "Where's your boyfriend?"

"Would you shut the fuck up for like a second?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them as I leaned against the island on my palms. Conrad rolled his eyes and turned his body away from me. That set me off again, "Since when the fuck do you talk so much anyway? My god the stupid fucking shit that flies–"

He put his bottle down, "Since when the fuck so you swear so much?" It was disconcerting how much calmer he was than me. It spurred me on.

"Since you, asshole!" I didn't even realize how angry I was until the words came flying out and the adrenaline spiked higher. "Since you make me so fucking mad I wanna tear my own hair out! And I thought we made progress the other night. How fucking stupid am I?" I took a long breath and felt the heat prickle my cheeks. I should have brought in another frozen margarita.

The look on Conrad's face changed and his voice went soft, "You've never been stupid a day in your life."

"Fuck you, I'm not done!" I wasn't done being pissed at him for trying to ruin a perfectly good day. "Do you even know who asked me to come in after you? Your friend, Danny. Sweet Danny who was genuinely worried that he hurt your feelings, you fucking–"

His eyes narrowed cruelly, "Oh, poor sweet Danny who wrangled an invitation to 4th party just to drool all over you apparently."

"Are you seriously fucking jealous right now?"

Conrad's mouth snapped shut as his eyes widened in panic for a second and I couldn't have cared less, "I didn't want to steal his attention away from you, Conrad. I was just saying hi…you know, like a nice person."

"Mhm. I'm sure he's got lots of ideas of how you can be nice to him." He took another swig from his bottle.

I couldn't even look at him anymore so I squeezed my eyes shut until I could. "Jesus, I'm not gonna date your friend, okay?!? Not if really you don't want me to."

When I opened my eyes Conrad looked shocked, "What? Seriously?"

It was the last thing I was expecting and I could feel myself start to calm down finally, "I mean, yeah. If it bugs you that much."

I could tell he was thinking about it. "Y/N…"

"Unless it really was the stupid fucking baseball shit." It was the shift in his tone of voice. I couldn't handle it.

Conrad paused, "I mean, he is a fucking liar. It's…" I spluttered a laugh and couldn't even hear his very important correction. "What? It's true." Conrad shrugged miserably and placed his bottle back on the counter.

I thought about Danny's request when I said, "I'm sure it is. I just have no idea what you're talking about."

Conrad rolled his eyes and I sighed.

"How is it I've known you my whole life and I never knew the absolute stats nerd hidden under that 90s heartthrob hair?" The second I walked into that kitchen I could barely believe the words coming out of my mouth. I was cutting myself off from another margarita even though I wanted it.

"You think I'm a 90s heartthrob?" He was leaning on the other side of the island and peering at me quizzically. I thought I could even see the hint of smirk under his misery.

"Ohmigod, that's what you got from that?" My face was screwed up in disbelief. His ego had no bounds.

"Uh, that was definitely the most important part."

"Oh so you're a delusional nerd too?" This was better than sulking Conrad or angry Conrad but only by an inch.

He paused and shrugged like he was shaking off the rest of his sour mood. And then I felt him focus his stare directly at me in a way I'd never experienced. I didn't have to look up at him to know what I'd find. Was this the shameless confidence that Belly always talked about? The silence was bad enough. He always did that; said the thing I least expected or never said anything at all after I did. He'd just wait and look at me, expectantly until I felt like I couldn't breathe.

The silence was never comfortable so I mustered the last bits of my courage and looked him square in the face, "Not everyone is flirting with you, Conrad."

His smile grew for the first time since he thought he was on a winning streak in the pool. The unsettling thing about it was it seemed like he knew something I didn't. Conrad was nodding and considering the statement as he stepped around the island to stand in front of me on the other side.

I gasped softly when his eyes flashed back to mine and muttered, "You sure?" He lingered in the moment and I felt a calloused fingertip graze the back on my hand gripping the island countertop. Just when the static in my brain started the clear and I could breathe again, Conrad leaned into my ear to whisper,

"Or do you save that for Danny now?"

He stayed close but he had to be drunker than I thought and fucking with me again so I took a breath and tried not to take the bait. Maybe it was my turn to say the thing he least expected for once. I didn't want to have to look him in the eye again after that, "I…you know, sometimes I can't tell and it's unintentional. Danny probably did the same thing. He's just a nice guy."

He scoffed and took a step back. "Sure. Not like you'd notice either way."

I looked at him then and shook my head in confusion, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Conrad opened his mouth as he stepped closer again but was shocked into place when he heard his brother calling for him from the other room. "Connie!"

He had the decency to look at me apologetically before directing him to the kitchen. When I saw Jeremiah's expression was serious and fixed on Conrad, I used that opportunity to make my exit. I took a few minutes in the bathroom to splash some water on my face and assess the pink hue in my skin as flush or sunburn. It didn't take long before I started to hear raised voices. I debated whether to investigate or leave them to it, if it was even the Fisher brothers at all, but when I thought about how Susannah wouldn't be able to deal with it like she always did, I knew I had to make sure it wouldn't get out of hand.

I caught pieces of the story as I walked back towards the kitchen. Susannah and Adam had been separated for a year now but he'd helped throughout as he should. He helped more than he did when they were together if Conrad was telling the truth. I heard Jeremiah accuse Conrad of scaring Adam away from the party altogether. It was true, Adam Fisher was nowhere to be found for the first time since I could remember. It was strange to think about now when he'd showed up for a few short hours the year before.

Jeremiah's tone was firm. "What gave you the right?"

"Get over it, Jere. They're not even together anymore." In contrast, Conrad sounded like this was the last conversation he wanted to have.

"You think I don't know that?"

"This is Mom's house and her party. You really think she wants him here?"

"I think she wanted him at Thanksgiving and Christmas and when the treatment got really bad in the Spring too. Oh, but that's right you had finals and weren't around much then, moping around after you screwed things up with Belly." My eyes squeezed shut at the dig. This could escalate badly.

"Fuck you, you know I came home every second I could!"

"I was there every day!"

"Okay?! Okay! What do you want, a medal?" I hoped the breath I huffed wasn't audible enough for them to hear.

Jeremiah shook his head out of the corner of my eye, "Did you even ask her? Cause you're right, this is her party and she should have decided. Not you." The footsteps were heavy across the tile as he left and I heard the door slam behind him.

Conrad sighed. "You heard every word of that, didn't you?"

I winced and came out of hiding around the corner to see him leaning heavy on the island like it was the only thing holding him up at this point. His liquor bottle of choice was abandoned by the sink. "I'm sorry...but not every word and I didn't mean to, I swear. I was just in the bathroom."

"It's okay. It's not your fault. Actually it's my fault. As per usual." He didn't move from his spot as his eyes carved holes into the countertop.

"Don't say that." My heart ached for him without my permission. Maybe Conrad fucked up by not inviting Adam or telling him not to show up at all but some of what Jeremiah said was unfair. And it wasn't hard to see that his brother was taking every word to heart no matter what.

"Why not? It's true. It's the only fucking thing I'm good at anymore." He looked up finally, lost.

"Connie, come on."

The words seemed to shock him out of his emotional spiral. His brows raised and while the smile on his face was immediate, it fell just as quick, "I can't remember the last time you called me Connie."

"I think I do, actually." Apparently it was infectious because now I was smiling at a memory I thought I'd lost.

When I looked his way again, he was watching me expectantly with the hint of that same sweet smile on his face. It was the least I could do since he seemed interested in the distraction from his own thoughts.

"There was this girl in my freshman year named Connie and I remember thinking it was hilarious that it was a girl's name. Kinda gross of me, honestly."

"I would say," he interrupted but was still listening.

"Do you wanna hear the story or not?" His hands raised in defeat as he chuckled. "I told Belly I was gonna torture you with it that summer; calling you every famous Connie I could come up with. TV characters and political figures but she got really upset and said you'd be mad so 'please don't'. So I tried to forget about it entirely so I wasn't tempted."

When I looked up again, Conrad was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite figure out so I kept on. "And it must have worked too because I forgot about it until this second."

He nodded slowly, "Does that mean I get to call you Y/N/N again?"

I rolled my eyes at the old nickname and conceded, "I guess it's only fair."

We ended up heading back towards the party and paused to look outside sliding door windows at the view of the patio. He nudged me, "So you've grown to like my name."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was trying to shift his mood before we went back to everyone who was oblivious about what had gone down inside. "Damn, the confidence with which you said that completely inaccurate statement."

"Mm, say it again." He muttered and I shot him a glare so fast I couldn't believe he kept talking. "But softer."

My patience was battling against the need for physical violence but I let it out verbally. "Maybe try therapy if that gives you a nerdgasm." I was gonna get a lot of traction out of this nerd thing.

"Exposure therapy maybe." The mood shift was successful if I could base it on his teasing tone and goofy smile.

"I said I wasn't flirting with you, dummy." I didn't mean to bring it up again since it wasn't that serious but it wasn't the only thing I'd said that I was gonna regret after the fact.

Conrad scrunched his face in disbelief, "That's definitely not what you said. Actually, we decided you wouldn't know if someone was flirting with you. Case in point."

I could barely listen to him anymore and I gestured for him to quit it. "Fine, whatever, I'm saying it now. Not flirting. Can we move on?" I knew he was looking at me then but I refused to do the same.

"No." His response was immediate and I saw him register the shock, like it even surprised him a little that he'd said it.

I didn't have a choice then and could only gape in his direction, eyes struck wide by his stubborn streak.

Conrad turned to me and stepped closer like he'd made a decision. "Even if you weren't, I was. And I want you to know so I'm telling you now, straight up, to your face, so later you can't explain it away or pretend I didn't…flirt with you."

And that's when I realized he did know something I didn't. I was such an idiot. He broke his steady gaze for a second and chuckled, "I didn't mean to at first and then…I don't think I can stop now."

If all that wasn't enough, he wasn't done. "I don't want to." Conrad leant close then and his voice dropped an octave, "I mean, why does he get to when I can't?"

I heard the sliding door shift open and closed but didn't see it from my frozen state, staring at a corner piece of the door frame. I sucked in an unsteady breath and looked up just in time to see him look back at me from the edge of the pool, quickly before he jumped in.

My nerves were shot and despite the cool air inside the house compared to the heavy July sun, my hairline was damp. My mind was blank and racing at the same time; no thought coherent in the slightest so I shut it down completely. No more thinking, not that I could think myself out of this one anyway. I waited until I could breathe normally and wasn't overheating from the inside before I stepped back out to the patio and steered directly to the drinks table for my third frozen margarita.

The rest of the party was fairly uneventful in comparison but still great. No more drunken drama or broken family heirlooms to Belly's great relief. In fact, I found a lot of peace watching her for the rest of the night; giggling with her friends, swimming until her limbs cramped up and flirting with Jeremiah if I could read the signals right. He seemed elated by the development and I let myself be happy for them instead of diving into the complications of that potential. No more thinking.

At one point, I watched Conrad grab Danny's shoulder, both of them nursing their last beers of the night, and mutter something to him that looked serious enough to be an apology. Danny shook his head with a smile and gripped him in a fierce hug. I didn't even realize I was smiling at the sight until Danny's eyes caught mine and he mouthed a grateful 'thank you'. It was so sweet I had to put down my margarita and rethink my life choices. I caught Aunt Laur and Susannah sitting together and seeing it too: Laurel pouted her bottom lip at her friend and Susannah's eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

When the party got to the point of only relying on the patio and pool lights, I distracted myself with the first steps of organized clean up. Steven joined me not long after, saying that he needed an excuse for a quiet task to keep his hands busy. Usually I would have pressed for more information but I was surviving off fumes by that point. Maybe everyone was. Nicole and Danny stopped by to say goodbye and thanked us for a great party. I hugged them both and looked around to realize that it was only the family left after that. Jeremiah and Belly said something about how they'd make up for their clean up crew shift in the morning and were nowhere to be found after that.

Eventually, when Susannah's porcelain serving platter almost slipped from my hands and into pieces on the kitchen floor, Laurel told me I'd done enough and shooed me upstairs. I debated washing the day off before I crashed into bed but worried I'd actually fall asleep under the warm spray. I'd just managed to get into a baggy Cousin's Rowing t-shirt and sleep shorts before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

It was the creak of the old wooden drawers of Belly's dresser that pulled me out of deep slumber. The room was bright with sunlight shining through the curtains and I had slept right on anyway. I yawned as Belly made a face in my direction and grabbed her crop top.

"I'm sorry! I was just gonna change before I got to the beach. I don't wanna miss the chance on our last day."

"What time is it?" I looked around the room when my phone wasn't on my nightstand like usual. It landed on the end of my bed with a thump.

"After 10. Here. I found it on the kitchen table when I came in last night. Figured I should plug it in for you."

I smiled and saw that it was, indeed, fully charged. "You're sweet."

"The least I could do. You barely left anything for me and Jere to finish up this morning."

"Yeah, I was on a mission." I looked at her smiley face as she pulled her top over her bikini. "So. About you and Jere…"

Belly was never good at hiding things from me and her face screamed guilt even as she tried to shrug it off. "What do you mean?"

"Belly. Come on." She looked at me then, waiting. "You guys hung out all day yesterday and then you left together last night. What's going on there?"

The poor thing looked scared, "You're not mad?"

I rolled my eyes, "Is there something to be mad about? I mean, if you guys like each other…it's not gonna be easy but there are worse things."

"Wow, you should sleep in more often. Oh, don't forget to check the kitchen when you get up. Conrad went out early and got the good muffins."

"Oh, nice. But you're not off the hook about this Jere thing."

She pulled her lip balm out of her pocket and smeared it across her bottom lip. "It's not anything yet. When there's something to tell, I'll let you know."

"You better."

I took a moment to check my phone and saw an unread message from an unknown number. Hey, it's Danny. Jeremiah swore it was cool if he gave me your number so I hope that's okay. It was nice seeing you yesterday. The look on my face must have given me away because Belly was laughing at my expense in almost no time.

"Let me guess. Danny decided to text you after all." She wiggled her brows and giggled.

"Did you know about this?"

"I was there when Jere was trying to convince him. Poor guy actually thought you rejected him because of Conrad." Belly didn't seem to notice if my face reacted to that tidbit. "I told him there wasn't any reason you couldn't come back to Cousin's this summer if you had some good incentive."

She wasn't wrong. It wasn't like I had plans like Steven and Belly. I didn't need to be anywhere until the middle of August. I didn't need to shut everything down before it even started; before giving it a chance to be something to forget about at all. It was a nice thought that was almost immediately ruined by Conrad's look of relief when I told him I'd do the exact opposite. Maybe in a different world where I wasn't leaving for California in five weeks, or if I had any concrete plans of spending more time in Cousin's this summer, I'd feel different. Not to mention that I still didn't have the slightest idea where Conrad's head was at after yesterday and I wasn't sure I even wanted to. The world in which I could be excited about this didn't exist and it was time to make peace with that.

"You know he invited me to his ball game? I can't believe I have to leave before seeing him in those white pants."

"Y/N!" Belly threw her stuffed polar bear, Junior Mint, at my chest and I caught it with a laugh. "I knew you liked him. He got so much hotter this year, I'm a little jealous I didn't get there first."

I gasped dramatically, "I'm telling Jeremiah!"

"I'm kidding…kind of. I mean, I'm definitely leaving but Danny Wilder could inspire a hot girl summer."

"Mm. Period." I looked back at the text and wondered if I should just leave it altogether. My stomach grumbled and it distracted me enough to leave it be for now and wave Belly off to the beach to have her fun.

I shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen after my shower, remembering the muffins Belly said would be waiting for me. The box was on the island like always and I smiled at the small victory. I really should have missed my chance at one, let alone my favourite, coming down after 11am. I opened the box and considered my choices when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked towards the sound and found Conrad standing in the doorway.

"Uh…I uh, saved you a carrot. It's under the cake plate." He gestured to the other side of the counter where it waited for me.

"Oh. Thanks." I walked that way and saw him shift his stance uncomfortably, and look down at his feet. I forced myself to give him the credit he deserved at that moment with a look of sincerity. "You didn't have to do that."

He looked pleasantly surprised, "It's no problem. You uh…call it a thanks for cleaning up last night. My mom really appreciated it."

"Of course. Anything for Susannah."

It was the most polite we'd ever been to each other in our entire lives. I wasn't even sure it was real since there were no witnesses to prove I wasn't making the whole thing up somehow. Belly and Steven would laugh in my face if I told them. But that didn't stop the awkwardness from getting worse by the second and finally I couldn't take it anymore. Conrad looked like he wanted to say something else but I couldn't hear it, whatever it was and I was scared that I already knew. Instead of giving him the chance, I mumbled a quick 'thanks again' and 'see you later' before bolting back upstairs with my carrot muffin in hand and shut the door behind me. I leaned back against it and wondered how I'd avoid whatever that was for the next 24 hours before my time in Cousin's would come to an end.

___________________________________________

author's note: I hope you enjoyed part 2 of 4th of July! How are we feeling at this point? Don't worry because there's still lots more story to come even if Y/N thinks her journey is ending. Next chapter is a day at the boardwalk! Thank you again for the continued support 💚💛🧡❤️. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

taglist: @c4rpediem-s @jackierose902109 @lcvecstiel @h0t-as-h3ll @stylesxroyalty @fandom-addict404 @hellofutur @junnniiieee07 @shelby-x @historygeekqueen

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #team conrad #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp conrad #the summer i turned pretty au #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher au #conrad fisher x fem!reader #Spotify

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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year ago

Text

Long Live - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: An early morning phone call, a failed concussion exam, and an Instagram post lead to just one thing. A statement from Red Bull Racing released the Thursday morning before Silverstone. Oracle Red Bull Racing regret that Max Verstappen has failed his concussion assessment following his crash at the Red Bull Ring last week. Max is doing well, but as per the medical advice he will not drive in the event this weekend. In his place Third Driver Daniel Ricciardo will drive the RB19 for this weekend.

Warnings: Mentions of past crashes, Blake and Em scheming, mentions of cheating (not our loves!)

Words: 8.6k

A/N: Happy Danny Ric Race Week! This has been planned for…yeah so long. So, so long. Silverstone has been where so much of our stuff hinged and we’re so excited to get to share at last. Let us know what you think.

July 2023

Em glared at her suitcase. Dan’s was neatly packed - not that he needed much, his outfit for the weekend was jeans and Red Bull merch. But she needed a week and a bit of clothes for their time in Northamptonshire, plus changes. And with a limited supply thanks to the now prominent bump she was miserable about it. But they had to leave in the next few minutes or they might be late getting to Silverstone.

“You packed?” Dan asked, watching her shake her head. “Does the new stuff help?”

“Yeah. It feels ok.” The box had been sitting at reception waiting for them when they got back from the whistle stop trip to Perth, a gift from Lewis when he found out about her pregnancy. She’d mentioned once or twice that she hated the feel of some fabrics, and the clothes were soft and stretchy, comfortable for her and the baby. She was wearing one of them now, a lilac empire waist dress with black leggings that helped support her belly.

“Gimme a sec.” His phone started ringing almost too loudly for seven fifteen, Em zipping the case but leaving it for Dan to lift. Charlie had texted a photo of the brunch she and Blake had gone for that morning. He wasn’t back until the tyre test, and she missed having him there.

“Emmy?” Dan sounded dazed as he came into the room.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I’m driving this weekend. I…I’m in the car this weekend. Max didn’t pass concussion protocol, the new rules are if you don’t pass it before Thursday morning you don’t pass for the weekend. I’m in his car. Fuck. I’m driving.”

He lifted her with a grin, spinning her around and holding as tightly as he could before Em kissed her husband, separating with a grin.

“You’re driving the RB19? For the race?”

“Yeah.”

“We need to tell everyone.”

It was a frantic phone call to Blake as they piled into the car, Dan putting the bags in the boot. The first two attempts went unanswered, but finally the third was answered.

“Dan I swear to God I used to leave you and Em alone when you were-“

“Blake it’s Em. I’m using his phone.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry. What’s up Timmy?”

“You and Charlie need to get on a plane. Dan’s driving this weekend. Max is out after the crash last week, he’s in.”

They’d watched the race the previous weekend from Perth, Checo crashing into Max at turn three and pushing them both off track. The two cars had been pushed into the barrier, Max losing consciousness for a moment. Em had watched terrified until she heard him over the radio, Dan gripping her hand tightly. It could have been so much worse, especially on a weekend already filled with tragedy.

“Fuck. Seriously? What time is it what can we get?” Blake’s voice came through the speakers in the car as Em was already searching flights. She turned the tablet to Dan, pointing at the direct Qantas one and the five tickets she had ready to go.

“I’m booking you on the Qantas direct, you get in here at five tomorrow morning. Give Callum a call, tell him to come too. I’ve business for Joe and Grace, the three of you are stuck in economy I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t matter, we’ll get there. Somehow. You sure about Cal?” It was Charlie speaking and Em smiled.

“Positive. He’ll love it, we’ve got the passes. He can watch the race from the garage.”

“Ok. I’m gonna get packed and call Cal. Want me to pick up your parents?”

“They’ll probably pick you up, you’re at Charlies?” The organisation decided, Charlie promised to text when the five of them were at the airport. While Dan drove Em got on the phone with Qantas, putting on her charm and using her surname liberally so she could try get seats organised. It wasn’t much, but Charlie and Blake had a row to themselves and Callum had extra leg room so it was a little more comfortable.

The last thing she could do before relaxing for the drive was stare at her instagram account. The original plan was she’d wait at the hotel for the night so the pregnancy news could die down. But now she had to be there in just two hours. The post was written, ready to go, the carefully staged photos of their vans and the baby ones Dan had bought the day after they found out she was pregnant but had hidden until things were safe. The tiny little scan photo showing their bean. This was real.

“Ready for the world to know you knocked me up?” It was crude and blunt and made Dan laugh so it was worth it, Em grinning as his laughter filled the car.

“Ready for the world to know you’re stuck with me forever?”

“Feels right.”

She hit post, waiting for the chaos. Red Bull were announcing that Max was out at 9.30, so hopefully that would start to overshadow everything. Carefully she read the caption again and smiled at it. Baby Ric. Half Brit, half Aussie, already the coolest kid in the world. We really can’t wait to meet you, sunshine.

This was a good thing. Everyone who needed to know was aware that she was announcing it this weekend. Limited comments made it easy, the people she’d met mostly through Dan commenting congratulations publicly. She could breathe. The world was always going to find out about the baby but this made being pregnant real to her. It was actually happening.

They were nearly to the track when Dan’s phone rang again, Em hitting answer on the car screen.

“Hey Grace, Dan’s driving. We’re almost there.”

“Emmy, how’re you feeling? We’re waiting at the gate, the plane’s here and we should be on soon.”

“I’m good. News about the baby is officially out now.”

“How do you feel?”

“Excited. I think. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Fly safe, tell everyone I love them.”

The roads around the track were closed to the public, Dan getting through when he showed his paddock pass and people recognised him. Finally they were in the car park, pulling into the Red Bull Driver spot. This was real.

“You ready for this?” Em asked, watching as her husband ran his fingers through his hair, the thick gold band glinting in the sun.

“Yeah. I think I am. I want this. I want to be there, I want to drive well. I want to be on that podium again. Do you think I can do it?” It was the most honest he’d been about driving, the most open he’d been apart from nights in bed where only the dark surrounded them.

“Yes. I know you can do this. This is the track where you had your first race, where you did your first test. You can do this, Danny. I believe in you.” His smile lit up at her words as he put his hand on her belly, leaning down to press a kiss to it.

“And for this little one. Can’t embarrass her at the first race people know about her.”

“I thought we agreed it was they until we know?”

“She’s a girl. I know it. Because Lulu isn’t going to make us argue over a boys name, are you sweetheart?” It was quiet for a moment before Dan squeezed her fingers. “Time to face the media.”

“Let’s go.”

The first person in a Red Bull shirt they spotted was Simon, a smile spreading across Em’s face as she saw him. He was sticking to hospitality for most of the weekend, but agreed to help out if needed. It didn’t take long for them to be at the paddock gates, Em staring at them with trepidation.

“Good luck. Lewis went in about five minutes ago with Roscoe, that might have pulled some photogs away. People are delighted for you, there’s gonna be good wishes.”

She nodded at Simon before stepping through the gate, scanning her pass and waiting for Dan. It felt so different to a usual race weekend with him. There was no Michael around, no Blake yet, no bags being carried with helmets or gear. That was all coming down, it’d be there. Right now they needed to make it to Red Bull. She’d sit in hospitality or walk down to Aston to say hi to Lawrence, depending on what was going on. It was fine.

“Daniel! Emma! Congratulations! How does it feel to be driving?” The news had filtered out and questions were being thrown around but Dan just smiled and waved as they made it through the paddock. Different kids and fans came up with hats and merch to sign and he signed it all, Em standing there and fiddling with the FEA bracelet that she rarely took off. A couple of parents made small talk with her while the kids got photos with Dan, running off grinning. But finally they were at the Energy Station.

The moment they arrived in there was rapturous applause, a banner across the seating area with “IT’S A RICCIARDO” and a stork on it. Em blushed and grinned while Dan put an arm around her waist to hold her close as he nodded.

“Thanks guys, thanks. Much appreciated. Any idea where I’m supposed to go?”

“Engineering in five.” Christian stepped up as most of the team went back to where they were supposed to be. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I know I already said it, but I mean it. You deserve some happiness. Em if you want to stay here feel free, or if you want to go up to Dan’s driver room you can. Is Blake around?”

“On his way back from Perth.” Em pulled a notebook from her handbag, flipping it open with practiced ease. “I’m back to work at least until he’s here, he wasn’t going to come back until testing. What do you need?”

“Just wanted to check timings. I got an email from him for four paddock passes, is that right? Charlie Clarke, Callum Clarke, and Dan’s parents?”

“Yeah. Blake’s partner, her brother, and my in laws. Are they ok?”

“Of course, yeah. You know that. Just wanted to be sure, they’ll be ready for tomorrow. We’ve an engineering briefing, Dan’s in the TV pen. I was going to send someone from PR with him, if you want to put a Red Bull shirt on you can follow him recording Em if you like. Whatever suits. Here’s the list of interviewers”

“Thanks Christian. Give me an hour?”

“Of course. See you in a couple Dan.”

She kissed her husband as chastely as they ever could, smiling at him.

“You know this car inside out. You know it as well as you know me. You know how it behaves. They would be putting Yuki in it and putting you in the Alpha Tauri if they had any doubts about you. You can do this, Baby.” Dan smiled and squeezed her hand before he left.

She sat in the hospitality with tea in front of her, her tablet open tracking the flight from Perth as she drank her tea and ran down the list of interviewers. It’d be easy, and her bump was still small enough that a large tee would be wearable. A woman sat beside her and she smiled.

“Em? Right? I’m Carola.” Em smiled at the other woman, switching off the screen.

“Nice to meet you. You’re Checo’s wife? It’s so lovely to meet you, I’ve seen you at a couple of races.”

“You too. Congratulations. This is your first?”

“It’s our first baby, yeah.” It didn’t hurt as much to say that anymore. Admitting it was the their first baby was true.

“It’s pretty great. This is our fourth, I’m due in October.”

They chatted for a few moments, Dan returning a few minutes later with a shirt for her.

“Vicky said she’d do it with me, but if you want to feel free. Wanna do it?”

“Yeah, let’s.” Dan took her hand to help her up. “We’ll talk later? It’s lovely to meet you Carola, but work calls.”

“Oh?” She seemed confused and Em smiled.

“My day job is his assistant. And his manager’s, but Blake isn’t here today. Time to get going!”

She followed Dan to the pen, smiling and staying out of the cameras as he answered the questions. It was mostly about the car and getting into it, but Ted at Sky couldn’t resist it.

“And your wife is at the track with you today, how does it feel to be able to tell everyone you’re having a baby?”

“Well Em is doing the hard work! But yeah, we’re excited. Its been a really, really good week for us.”

“That’s great. Congratulations to both of you.”

Em ended up back in hospitality while Dan was doing more work, but this time making phone calls left, right, and centre. Every hotel had a call in if they had a spare room, and she finally managed to get a caravan delivered to beside where Dan’s motorhome was. They could put Grace and Joe in the motorhome, Callum on the motorhome couch, and the other four would fit in the caravan. It was tight but could do it. Carola sat beside her as she ended the final call.

“Busy?”

“Yeah. Dan’s parents are flying in from Perth, so getting a caravan for them. How’re you? Are the kids here?”

“No they’re at home. How long have you worked with Daniel?” She was quiet as she spoke, younger than Em.

“Nearly four years? Japan 2019 was my first official race, but we were friends and together for years before that. I was complaining about work, Blake needed an assistant, so here I am.”

“He wanted you to travel?”

“Definitely. Being apart hurt. We’re working out how next year will go if he gets a seat, it’s gonna be toughs with a baby. But it’s worth it.”

“You’ll travel with the baby?”

“Definitely. Dan wants to be hands on and around for everything. We’ll make it work.”

“Oh. Well, this is my first time at Silverstone. Can you tell me about it?”

They chatted until Checo came over and saw them talking, speaking to his wife in Spanish before Carola said goodbye and they went to their own motorhome. Dan was a bit longer, coming back and giving her a kiss.

“Have fun?”

“I have a caravan beside your motorhome, and I had a really good chat with Carola. She’s lovely.”

“Checo’s wife?”

“Yeah. She’s sweet.”

The night was filled with nerves for both of them, different to any other race that Dan had done. Nights before fp1 before were easier. He knew the car. This time it was a car he’d never driven in real life before, but she was determined to be positive. He deserved at least that.

The news that the flight had landed woke them up, Blake promising to make their way up after they showered and ate. It’d be fine, they’d arrive in time for fp2 so she could relax then.

The yells for Dan as they walked into the paddock that morning were overwhelming. There was fans wearing ancient Aston Martin Red Bull 3 hats to make them grin, Em following her husband and holding his hand the entire way through.

Usually she’d be working away but Dan had told her to enjoy it. So she was, sitting in the garage with headphones on, watching as GP gave Dan some last minute encouragement. There he was in his race suit, helmet under his arm as he came across.

“Go fast and be safe.” He grinned as she spoke, kissing her quickly.

“I can do this, right?”

“Of course you can. I’m gonna be right here when you come back.”

She stayed in that spot for the full sixty minutes, watching as they got him used to the car. He wasn’t setting the timing screen alight, but he was firmly in the top ten. And in a sick delight that she’d never admit he was above the McLarens. She’d had to keep her mouth shut around Brown at all times, beating Lando and Oscar gave her a joy.

Instead of hospitality for lunch she went over to Mercedes while Dan was in meetings. Susie had promised a chat, and the two women sat in the sunlight with Roscoe sitting on the bench beside them. Em ate her wrap while petting the dog, promising to stay there for a few minutes while Susie ran back in. Now that she was officially the enemy she couldn’t go in like before, but being with someone was fine.

“Emmy!” She turned and saw Grace a little bit away, her mother in law wrapping her in a hug. Em relaxed against her, nodding at everyone else.

“Hey, it’s so good to see you all. Blake, Dan’s in engineering meetings. P6 in practice, Checo was P1. They seem happy so far.” Blake nodded and she watched him kiss Charlie before jogging towards the Red Bull Energy Station. “Welcome to Silverstone. I’m just waiting for Susie to come back and take Roscoe, then I’ll show you around.”

“Em. That’s not…is it?” Callum asked, Em smiling.

“Want to pet Lewis’ dog? He’s so sweet.”

The way Callum lit up petting the dog was great, and it wasn’t long until Susie was back with his lead to take Roscoe inside with a wave. Em led everyone else back to the Energy Station and found a table for them all.

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze, but we’ve made it work. Grace, Joe, you’ve got Dan’s motorhome-“

“But he needs his-“

“It’s Dan. Do you think he’d be ok if you weren’t being looked after? You’re in there. I managed to get a two bed caravan brought in. It’s tight, but Charlie, you and Blake have one room. Dan and I are in the other. Sorry Cal, you’re stuck on the couch.”

“That’s fine. Thanks, Em. Seriously. I never thought I’d be here.”

“Enjoy every minute of it. You can watch from the garage if you like, or I got you a grandstand ticket too. Whatever you want.”

“You’re amazing.” He reached around her shoulder for a hug, Em giving him one before taking a deep breath.

“I’m just really glad you’re all here. It’s been a whirlwind.”

“How’s the baby?”

“They’re fine. We’re good. Just tired. It’s gonna be a week with everything. But it’s ok.” Dan came by a few moments later with his race suit tied around his hips.

“Navy suits you,” Joe told him and Em could see the pride on her in-laws faces at their son. Dan put his hand on her stomach for a moment as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Good to see you. We can get dinner later? I’ve been in meetings all day when I’m not in the car, GP reckons they can let me go an hour or so after practice if nothing weird comes up. But practice in ten. Cal, you coming into the garage for it?”

“What?”

“C’mon.” Em went to stand up but Dan stopped her. “Stay there, you’ve been on your feet all day. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Go fast and be safe.”

“Promise.”

The four who were left stayed in hospitality to watch practice, Em glad to be in the air conditioning. She relaxed with them to watch, greeting Dan as he came back. Their group was just back at the caravans when her phone rang.

“Is that Emma Ricciardo?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi, I’m calling from Hilton Silverstone. We have a room available, you said you wanted it?”

“I’ll be there in ten. Thank you!” She hung up and went into the one they were sharing, Callum on the couch looking at his phone.

“Grab your stuff.”

“Huh?”

“I got you a hotel room, c’mon. We’re going. I’m gonna tell Dan, maybe we can give Blake and your sister some privacy.”

“They’re in that new love touchy feely mode. It’s not fun.”

“It is for them.”

She filled Dan in on what she was doing, her husband grinning and kissing her quickly. Grace was making dinner for them all, they’d eat in the motor home and give Blake and Charlie a bit of privacy. When he went into the second bedroom to say it she heard a yell, followed by Dan’s “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

By the time they were outside Callum had his stuff in the boot of Em’s little Fiat, Em sitting in to bring him. Security was strict, showing her pass nearly not enough to get her to the hotel car park. Finally they were in and Callum got out, waving and promising to meet them in hospitality in the morning. He was a grown adult, he could do what he wanted to.

Saturday morning Em was exhausted. Her stomach was filled with butterflies for the last couple of days thanks to stress and nerves, and she was terrified watching Dan go out in the car. But she had to trust everyone on that pit wall had her husband’s best interests at heart. If they didn’t then Dan wouldn’t get in the car.

She’d forgotten what it felt like to arrive at a race as the partner of a driver. It was different compared to Thursday and Friday, now it was the business end of the weekend. It felt like every photo was of her bump, of how she kept one hand on top of it when she was speaking. The hugs her friends gave her were photographed and carefully checked. Chloe had texted her one of her and Lance with a grin and a it’s unfair my brother sees you before I do that Em had sent a selfie back to. Chloe’s fault for being in Colorado with Scotty.

That morning while Charlie and Dan were getting ready Em and Blake had a conversation about what this weekend could lead to. The ultimate goal was a seat for Dan with Red Bull. But Em’s photos with people around the paddock would help with the media game and that was what she had to do. See her friends and people she liked, smile widely and get photos taken. It sucked that she had to, but the more it seemed like other teams were interested the more it would help.

Lawrence had known immediately what was happening, laughing with her and staring around at a photographer.

“Making it seem like we’ll sign Daniel? You know that it was never any of our-“

“Lawrence it wasn’t your fault. Or Seb’s. He apologised to Dan so many times last season. It all started from Monaco. I know for a fact there were discussions with people from Baku. You were at our wedding, you know we don’t blame Aston for anything.”

“I know. But still.”

“But nothing. How’re you doing? How’s Lance, I haven’t really talked to him much.”

They separated with the older man promising that the baby was receiving a bag of Aston Martin merch, Em laughing that Dan wouldn’t let it in the house as she said goodbye.

Practice was spent in the Energy Station, sipping a smoothie while she watched the screen. Joe sat beside her, Grace in the garage to watch for a while.

“Are you doing ok? I know Dan says he is, and I know you’ll pretend to the world you are, but are you really? You didn’t expect this.”

“Nobody expected it. It’s kind of insane.” She ran through the timeline with him, how Dan had come home from filming and in the sim the night before with no idea and then they were running so he’d make meetings and media. As she talked Max came into the room and sat at their table.

“Em. Joe. Sorry for putting Dan out like this, but he’s enjoying being in the car of course?”

“He is. Are you ok?”

In a different world Em thought they could have been close. Dan loved Max like a brother, and Em liked him as a person. But it was the people around him who she couldn’t stand. From the first time they’d met his father tried to make her feel less than, and Dan had told her the story of Kelly trying to ask him out shortly after she and Daniil had split up. She knew better than almost anyone how hard it was to cut those ties, but she couldn’t let herself be close to people who couldn’t cut them themselves.

“Getting there. I’m allowed look at screens now. Of course the crash was not my fault but that’s not something I can say outside. I spoke to Christian and he said we’d talk about it later. But this cannot continue.”

“I’m really glad you’re ok. We were watching, it was scary.”

“Thank you. You will tell Daniel that I was asking about him? They want to film something with the three of us later. He can be the padding.”

“We will. Look after yourself.”

He left and Joe looked at her with a small smile. “If I didn’t know about walls here and ears I’d say something.”

“It’s been bad. That’s all I’ll say.”

Red Bull had done well to hide how awful the relationship between the drivers was, but it was ice cold. Max barely acknowledged Checo when the cameras weren’t watching. There was a reason Dan was the one who was in all the videos with them. Max had only just left when Carola came over, taking a seat.

“Joe, have you met Carola? She’s Checo’s wife, she was so nice to me on Thursday when it was just us here. Carola, my father in law, Joe Ricciardo. I promise he’s not actually scary.” The younger woman smiled, holding out her hand for Joe to shake.

“You all came for the race?”

“Of course. Seeing Dan in a car again? With a team that supports him? The second we got the call we were looking for flights. Emmy had it organised, she was booking them already.”

“It was easier booking all five of you than everyone booking separately. I’m just glad we could.” It was quiet conversation between the three of them until Joe stood up.

“I‘ll stretch my legs. Em, text me if either of you ladies want anything. You don’t need to stand and get it, that’s what we’re for.” He left and Carola looked at Em confused.

“He’s Daniel’s dad, right? He acts like he’s yours.”

“We’re family. I’ve known him since before Dan and I started dating. It’s part of how I know Dan’s going to be such a good dad when the baby arrives. Plus, we’ve got a hard stop on when he’s driving.”

“Why?” The question was tinged with something more than just politeness, but Em kept going.

“He doesn’t want to miss the big events. The baby’s going to start school in 2027, so 2026 will be his last year if he gets a seat. We’ll be in Australia, it’s too far. It’s different for Louise, she’s in Europe. It’s even different for you, you’re in Mexico, right? How long is the flight?”

“Eleven hours to London. It’s ok.”

“Not bad. It’s seventeen from Perth if you get the direct one.”

“So Daniel will retire?”

“Yeah. I do most of the parenting till then, and then we swap. I get to decide what I want to do and he’ll be the main parent. It won’t be easy for us, but it’s what we want. Do you have photos of your kids? I think I saw them in Mexico last year but I wasn’t too well.”

“I remember! Daniel drove well. Here’s the three of them.”

It was oohing and awwing at the kids, Grace coming back and joining in. She pulled out the photos of Isaac and Isabella, Em feeling like she’d joined some secret club of parents who were so proud of their kids and their accomplishments. Carola was quiet, but she was nice to chat to. They’d never really be friends, they were too different, but having someone who knew the fear watching each race was something she could appreciate.

Finally it was time for qualifying. Em watched as Dan brought the car smoothly out of the pits, the car reacting just how he wanted it to. She hadn’t seen it like this since the Renault days, the car moving how he wanted it to. That smile as he put his helmet on, her and Callum standing listening to the radio. It was jarring hearing GP talk to Dan, but it fit somehow. She watched as he did his runs, not even the red flag stopping him from safely making it into Q2.

Em had nearly forgotten what it felt like to not worry about Dan going out in Q1. But she didn’t realise until the car was wheeled back in fully that Checo had been knocked out, the other driver’s face like thunder as he hopped out of the car and started the walk down to be weighed.

“That makes five in a row,” Callum whispered to her and Em shaking her head in response.

“Later. But I know.”

Q2 was tighter. Dan had told her that the only thing that Christian had said to him was he was expected to make it into Q3. Doing that was a good day for him with so little time in the car before now. She held her breath as Logan Sargeant had yet another lap time deleted, Daniel P10 and scraping through. Blake took her hand at the end of the round, squeezing once.

“He’s fine. He’s improving every lap, and he’s got a new set of softs for this. It’s Dan.”

“I know. I know.”

The last round was almost painful. Em held her breath as the chequered flag came out, Dan last to go across the line. He’d been in p10 until that lap, pushing him up into p5 and starting just behind the Ferraris.

“P5 Daniel. Great job, good spot for tomorrow.”

“Ah I’m sorry. It should have been higher.” She could hear the annoyance in himself as he spoke, wanting to hug her husband.

“Dan you did great. Little bit of traffic compromised the lap slightly and you still brought it home. This is a good base to go from tomorrow. Well done.”

The one thing that truly annoyed Em was that this was the first race McLaren had showed true promise in. A tractor of a car last year, unreliable and temperamental the year before, but now it was a front row lockout. Her annoyance at that team would always be there, but this was the time for her to smooth her face and grin because Dan had put in a hell of a performance. And beaten his teammate by eleven grid places. No big deal.

Dan was sent out early that night for an early arrival to the track the next morning. Everyone piled into the weird little golf cart to bring them back to the drivers campsites to relax. They were on the couch when Blake and Charlie stood up and grabbed their jackets.

“Blake’s bringing me on the ferris wheel and for food. There’s some of the nutritionist approved driver meals in the fridge, and I made sure there’s a bag of peach rings for you there too Em. We’ll be gone for oh, I dunno, three or four hours? Have fun!” Em laughed as the two of them left the exact same way she and Dan had the night before, leaning against her husband for a kiss.

“Does it make us old if I say I want food before anything else?” She asked, watching the grin spread on Dan’s face.

“Considering you’re growing a whole extra human no, no it doesn’t. You’re 18 weeks yesterday, right?”

“Yup. Almost halfway to meeting them.”

“Her.” She pushed against Dan to stand up, smiling as he got up.

“Them. We don’t find out for another three weeks. What if they’re a boy? What then?”

“Then I’ll love him all the same. But I just know. This baby is a girl, and she’s gonna be our Luna. Aren’t you, Lulu?”

“You need some food. C‘Mon. It’s an early night for race car drivers.”

Sunday morning dawned too early for both of them, staring at the clock until it was time to get up. It was real. Dan was driving in Silverstone again, and he was going to be in a good car. Em had so much faith in him.

“Promise me something?” She asked as he held her before they got out of bed.

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave anything out there. We don’t know what’s going to happen. But I don’t want you to have any regrets about this race or driving this car. Go out there and focus on driving as well as you can and as fast as you can. I’ve got faith in you, Danny.”

“I love you so much. I’m gonna do it. Alex bet me a hundred pounds that he’ll finish ahead of me. I’ve got to at least beat him.” Em giggled, laughing as Dan turned them over to kiss her before getting out of bed.

Getting ready to go to the paddock felt normal, and when they got into the main area of the caravan everyone was there with breakfast. Grace was cooking bacon and eggs, there were fresh rolls someone had gone out to get, and a big fruit salad in the middle of the table. The five others who were there clapped as Dan came out in an Enchante hoodie, Joe pointing to one of the seats.

“Your mother has food now, cmon and sit down. She texted Michael, he gave her a list of what to make.”

Em was missing the fourth member of their quartet. She’d hugged him briefly on Thursday, but there was so little time to see him. He had a week off in London and had promised to at least get lunch with her which was something. But she ate and laughed and walked into the paddock holding Dan’s hand for the fourth day in a row. They could do this. It’d be fine.

The mornings of races were usually chaotic, and this was no exception. She brought Callum upstairs to watch the F3 and F2 races from the roof of the garages, watching his face light up as he saw the cars battle it out.

“Would you do something like this? Charlie said you want to be a mechanic.”

“Not F1. The travel would kill me. I dunno how you and Dan and Blake do it. But a karting circuit or something, I’d like to help out there. My mates and I go most weeks, I usually help out with the mechanics there.” She nodded at him. All she’d known about him before the trip was he was Charlie’s brother, a massive F1 fan, and he recognised Blake the moment he walked into Charlie’s parents house. But he was smart and polite, and he didn’t let being starstruck stop him from chatting to other drivers. Watching him joke around with Esteban and Lance for a few moments when Lance had come over to say hi to her was a highlight.

Finally it was time for Dan to start going out. The cheer from the grandstand as his vintage car went past made Em grin broadly. No matter what she was going to enjoy this day. If this was the final race it was with people who cared about Dan, who wanted him to do well and loved him. That was more important than anything else.

“Your husband’s popular today.” Christian stood beside her and Em nodded.

“Isn’t it why you hired him? He’s always popular. I just want today to go well for him.”

“It will.” The certainty in his voice nearly startled her. “This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him before a race. Ever. I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

Dan came back in and changed before coming down, kissing Em and bending down to kiss her bump. She smiled with watery proud eyes before kissing his cheek.

“Remember what I said this morning. But more importantly, go fast and be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrinkles. See you on the other side.”

Waiting for the race to begin was an age. There was the trip to the grid, the grid walk playing on the telly beside her, and then the formation lap began. As it did Charlie stepped beside her, holding her hand tightly.

“You ok?” She asked, Em nodding.

“There’s a decent chance a camera will be on my face at some point. But yeah. I will be. I just want to watch Dan and make sure he’s ok.”

One ear on her headphones was Dan’s radio, the other was the commentary from Sky. The cars were lined up and she watched the lights blink off.

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Carlos Sainz had a slow getaway, letting Daniel Ricciardo in the Red Bull get the better of him. The two McLarens are still first and second, but they’ve got a Ferrari less than a second back, and a driver with something to prove currently in fourth.”

“Good work getting away, Daniel. Currently P4, P4, with-“

“I don’t want to know who’s ahead. Let me know if anyone behind me is coming close, but otherwise if I need to know I’ll ask, ok?”

“Understood.”

Fifty two laps went past quicker than Em could have thought. It was terrifying. She watched the screen on lap three as DRS was enabled and Dan slid on the inside of Charles around a corner.

“And I think the last of the late brakers is definitely back with us, that was classic Ricciardo right there.”

“Look at him, it’s such a difference to last year. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He’s got his replacement in his sights and I don’t know if this McLaren can hold up much of a fight.”

“He’s not going to make it two overtakes in four corners is oh wait he is! That was skill and talent and trusting the car you’re in. I dare say that rivals a Lewis Hamilton in 2014 or 2015 overtake.”

“I think you’re right Crofty, he’s really making this count. Up to P2 now and we’re three laps in. Meanwhile his teammate lost a position at the start and is currently battling Tsunoda!”

Em stared at the timer, the gap between Dan and Lando dropping from three seconds to two, and finally he was inside DRS range. The rear wing opened and she watched her husband do the overtake on the McLaren car, pulling ahead and going around the corner in a sweeping motion.

The garage erupted in cheers from the pit crew watching the screens, “c’mon Danny boy!” heard from a couple of them. Em kept a hold of Charlie’s hand, breathing deeply with her other one kept steady on her bump. He could do this. He could do it. This was Monaco, but a fully working engine. This was the proof that Dan hadn’t lost everything. That the trust Red Bull had put in him wasn’t misplaced.

As the pit stops happened she rolled her shoulders to get some tension out, but he was still out there. Finally he was called back in, a nearly thirty second gap to Lewis behind him. It was tight, so tight that Em held her breath while he was in the pits, watching as he came out just ahead of Lewis. This was it.

“That’s Lewis one point three behind, try to open a gap so he doesn’t get into DRS. They’ve got some good race pace.”

“What about the McLarens?”

“Behind Lewis.”

“Copy. Clear to push to the end?”

“Clear to push.”

Dan’s soft tyres did what they were supposed to, pushing him forward and propelling him to a gap. Em watched everyone in the garage stand as the chequered flag was waved, her husband in P1 as tears fell down her face. He’d done it. He’d won at Silverstone and he’d won a race and he had nothing left to prove. Nothing.

“I’m sorry. I thought I’d get Carlos at the end. Sorry for not winning it for you.”

“Dan what are you talking about?”

“I’m P2, right?”

“Daniel it’s Christian. You were about to lap Carlos, he got a puncture and had to pit. You did it. You won the race.”

“I won?”

The shock in his voice was clear, Blake holding Em up as she listened. He didn’t even know.

“You won, mate. You’re a British Grand Prix winner and a nine time Grand Prix winner. Come on back in and pull up at the big number one.”

It felt like an instant that Em was pulled down to Parc Ferme, half walking, half running down the pit lane. Blake had one hand and Charlie had the other, and she knew she was on camera but she couldn’t care how she looked because she needed to see her husband right that moment.

The mechanics let her through to the barrier, standing beside GP and Christian. She knew Dr Marko was somewhere nearby but she ignored, focusing on the navy car pulling in and the roar of the crowd as Dan stopped the car. His head tilted forward against the steering wheel before he pulled it out and unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out and stood on the halo for a moment, thumping his chest three times. Em covered her mouth, the memories of Monaco and Monza hitting her full force. That was her husband. He’d won in Silverstone.

She watched him get weighed and then he ran straight across to grab her, leaning across the barrier to kiss her.

“You went fast.”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you right now, Baby. So proud. Go do a shoey for us?”

“Of course.”

She watched him get enveloped by the team, Christian grabbing him for a hug before Dan was brought over for his interview. Lewis and Lando both hijacked it, the younger driver’s “I mean his missus is British so technically this is also his home race, right?” Making the crowd cheer even louder. Finally they were led up to the drivers cooldown room and the podium.

His grin was impossible to miss. Dan stood on that top step, GP on the constructor’s podium as Advance Australia Fair rang out across Northamptonshire. She watched the champagne be sprayed in slow motion, Lewis and Lando taking full opportunity to spray him before Dan pulled his racing boot off and poured into it. The crowd was chanting “shoey” as he drank, holding the boot aloft like a goblet. The other drivers followed suit, even GP taking a sip before pouring the rest of it out. Em felt like she’d burst with pride as her entire family was there with them to celebrate Dan’s success.

It took an age for Dan to be free from press but Em didn’t mind. She walked the paddock to see friends, giving hugs to the drivers she knew well enough. Charles stopped her to specifically congratulate her on the pregnancy, giving a hug and promising to give her Italian baby books so the baby wouldn’t just speak English. He was disappointed after his race so she just hugged him and promised to cheer him on in the next one.

Finally Dan was free, and the hug he gave her was everything. The seven of them went for dinner together nearby, a private room that someone from Red Bull managed to get them. There was a party in his honour from Red Bull, Em insisting Dan at least showed his face at it. By nine he was back in the caravan they were sharing with Blake and Charlie, food on the table for the four of them as they curled up on the couches. Blake was the first one to break the silence.

“Christian asked me for a meeting tomorrow. Me and him while Dan’s prepping for the tyre test. The paddock rumour is Checo and his wife had a fight on Saturday night in his motorhome. She threatened to leave him.”

“Oh shit. Saturday was when we were talking and I told her our plans.” Em explained the entire conversation she had with Carola about Dan being an involved parent and the travel plans they had for the baby. Charlie started giggling as she spoke.

“You psyched her out! You showed her what her life could be like if he wasn’t a cheating cunt - do not shush me Blake Friend I didn’t care about F1 then and I saw the videos - and actually cared about his family. She’s setting her boundaries. Good for her!”

“Which means his seat is empty next season. Nyck’s gone from the summer. Alex Palou in Indycar is Marko’s preferred driver for that seat, but he can only take it after Monza because of the Indy season. He doesn’t know if Lawson can make the step up, and he doesn’t want Iwasa. Plus with the Yuki stuff I dunno.”

“Yuki stuff?” Dan asked as he speared a piece of chicken from the platter.

“Sauber want him. They think he could bring that car into the points regularly and learn from Bottas. So that could be two Alpha Tauri seats open for next year at least. Would you take one?”

“I mean I want Red Bull. But I know even with today it’s not guaranteed. I’d take it if the contract says I’m first driver and have first dibs on a Red Bull seat. But who would take that seat?”

“Max wants you.” Em was the one who spoke, making herself comfortable on Dan’s lap. She and Charlie were each on their partner’s laps, Dan’s hand protectively around her stomach. “We were talking for a few minutes on Saturday. If he got Nyck that seat - unproven Nyck De Vries who’d never been involved in Red Bull - him lobbying for you can get you the seat. We know Christian would be happy to have you back. I say go for the Red Bull. Checo was completely shown up this weekend. I love you Baby and you know I believe in you, but in any other team those results should have been reversed. He shouldn’t be beaten by the reserve.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with that?”

“I’m gonna head over to Grace and Joe, let you guys talk.” Charlie went to get up but Blake kept her still, Em turning to face her.

“You’re involved in this. You get a say. This only happens if it’s four yes votes.”

“I’m not involved in Dan’s career. I don’t need a say.”

“You’re Blake’s girlfriend. The two of you live together even if you don’t admit it. He’s going to be gone for weeks or months at a time and it’s hard. So yeah, you do have a say in this. As someone who was in your position before you definitely have a say.”

It was quiet between them for a few moments as they all thought. Em was the first to break the silence.

“I say yes. It’s going to be hell travelling with a baby, but if you want it then it’s a yes.”

“Yes.” Charlie looked at Blake as she spoke, her head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder. “I just…yes. Today made me realise why Callum has loved racing for so many years. And yeah it’s gonna be hard and it’s gonna hurt and Blake and I will be moping around when we’re apart. But you’ve got a deadline, right?”

“End of 2026. The baby’s in pre-kindy from 2027, proper school the year after. We want to be well settled before that happens.” His hand rubbed Em’s bump as he spoke, Charlie nodding.

“I can do that. It’s a yes from me.” She faced Blake fully and Em felt like she was intruding watching them as Charlie’s voice got thick. “I love you. And this is going to be so hard. But we know it’ll be hard and that’s how we’ll make it through. We’ll figure it out somehow. But if they’re travelling the world with a baby then that child’s uncle Blake needs to be right there too, yeah? So we’re doing this.”

Blake pushed a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead. “If Chuck says yes then I say yes. It’s all her.”

Em looked up at Dan, at the determination on his face. Her sunshine boy who’d won nine races, all of them at different tracks. Who deserved the world and who people finally realised was as talented as he’d always said he was.

“Yeah. I really want this. Thanks for letting me try for it.”

“Ooof.” The butterflies in her stomach solidified for a moment, a weird feeling against Em. “Oh my god. The baby agrees. They just kicked I think.”

“What? Seriously?” Dan pushed his hand on her belly and Em could feel the movement properly. Their baby was there and safe and was going to be fine.

“Yeah. They did it again when you pushed. So we’re doing this? Three more years of chaos?”

“Three more years of chaos.”

Em sat against her husband, their best friends on the other couch. Charlie had quickly become someone she trusted more than almost anyone else. She’d kept their secrets, and in return Em was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Blake and Charlie got their happy ending.

The good mood from the win stayed that way the entire night. It was a lazy, lazy night with them watching a movie. Callum texted Charlie that he was down at main stage before going back to his hotel, Joe and Grace stayed in their own motorhome. Everything was hitting Em all at once. Dan won Silverstone. He won her home race. As she went to bed that night it was all that she could think about.

The next morning was chaos. They had hotel rooms booked because of the tyre test, and the caravan and motor home were being taken back by the rental agency. Instead they were packing to move to the hotel, and Em handed Callum her Oyster card before he headed back to London with Grace and Joe. The three of them were staying in Dan and Em’s apartment for the tyre test before they spent time together after it. It was hugs goodbye until Dan and Blake dropped their respective partners off at the same hotel Callum had been staying in. The rooms weren’t ready, but Em and Charlie could sit in the restaurant until they were.

Em hugged Dan goodbye, kissing his cheek.

“Whatever happens this week, you won Silverstone. You have nothing to prove them. Don’t think you do.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Dimples.”

Beside her Charlie was doing the same goodbye, slipping her favourite necklace into Blake’s hand.

“What’s this for? You never take this off, you said it’s a family one.”

“Yeah well it’s for the next couple of hours to give you good luck. Not that you need it, but every little helps.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I love you.”

“Love you too. Go get him that seat, yeah?”

Em watched the two drive off before sitting with Charlie to wait. Now they actually knew what might happen she was ready but terrified.

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