#looks for a cross country horse race

[fashion4standusers]

Lil Nas X in custom Coach tour outfits

[navree]

y'all might think that some of the shit i post about is the most niche i can go, but the equestrian events have already started for this olympics so you haven't seen how niche i can go

[sirfrogsworth]

How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

[blakeswritingimagines]

She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy

Summary: Going out to the country to spend the summer with your grandparents wasn't ever new to you... but the new cute ranch hand is.

Warnings: Pining, Slight use of Y/N, Blowjob, Outside sex, Protected sex, Some dirty talk, Talk of round two.

Word count: 4.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them.

He crossed his arms standing across from you, his muscles flexing softly under the sunlight as he looked you up and down, he smirked a little as his eyes landed on your figure again. He took his time checking you out as you arrived to stay with your grandparents for the summer, he had a pronounced southern accent, and he was handsome, not to mention his southern charm. He moved closer to you as he slowly spoke again. “ain’t seen you here before, sugar.”

You felt his gaze running over your body like a caress, sending a shiver down your spine. His southern accent was both charming and captivating, and his muscular frame seemed to radiate masculinity. You tried to keep your cool as you looked up at him, but you couldn’t help the way your heart raced in your chest. “Yeah, I’m just here for the summer, visiting my grandparents,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “And how about you?” "Visiting family, huh?" Zack asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Well, ain't that somethin'. It's mighty fine to have some fresh blood 'round these parts." He stepped even closer, invading your personal space just a bit. The heat of his body was palpable, and you could smell the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the earthy aroma of horses and leather. "I'm Benji," he said, extending a large, calloused hand towards you. "Benjicot Blackwood. Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss…" He trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name. His eyes sparkled with mischief and something else - a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

Your heart skipped a beat as he approached, invading your personal space with his imposing presence. The scent of his cologne and the smell of the outdoors on his skin was overpoweringly masculine, and it made you feel both excited and slightly intimidated. You took his hand in yours, shivering at the texture of his calloused skin against your own smooth fingers. "It's nice to meet you, Benji," you said, your voice coming out a little breathless as if actually looking forward to the summer for the first time since you were a kid. "I'm Y/N." The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin as he shook your hand firmly, holding onto it longer than necessary. "Pleasure's all mine, Darlin," he drawled, "I hope you're planning on stickin' around for a while. This ol' town sure could use someone as pretty as you to liven things up." He winked at you playfully, the sparkle in his eye undeniable. Benji said, grinning widely as he let go of your hand. "I reckon we'll be seein' more of each other around these parts." He winked at you playfully before turning to leave, leaving you alone once again. As he walked away, he threw one last comment over his shoulder at you. "Don't forget now, Y/N, these parts aren't best known for its nightlife, so best be careful where you venture off to this summer."

You grew flustered at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a little flustered as he held onto your hand for longer than necessary. You tried to keep your composure as he smiled at you, but your heart was racing inside. What was it about this man that made you feel so off balance? You watched him walk away, your eyes lingering on his muscular form, before he turned to throw one last comment over his shoulder. You didn't know why, but his words only intrigued you.

Every day, that encounter with Benji played in the back of your mind. You couldn't shake the memory of his smile, his scent, his intense gaze. And now, as you walked through town, you found yourself looking for him, unconsciously hoping to run into him again. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him walking towards you on the sidewalk. He was wearing a tight shirt that hugged his muscular torso and a pair of jeans that hugged his hips in the best way possible. As soon as he spotted you, Benji's grin widened even further. He tipped his hat in greeting and sauntered over to you, his boots clicking against the pavement. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," he teased lightly, his voice deep and warm. "Thought maybe I'd see ya wanderin' 'round town today." He leaned casually against the wall beside you, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What brings you out and about? Plannin' on causin' trouble already?"

You tried to keep the grin off your face but failed miserably. You couldn't help it; there was something about this man that made you smile. "Just enjoying the summer breeze," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "And no, I don't plan on causing trouble. At least, not too much trouble." You glanced over at him, taking in the way his shirt hugged his muscular body. It was hard to ignore how attractive he was. "Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Benji drawled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and stood towering over you, making you acutely aware of your own smaller stature. "Trouble has a way of findin' people who don't expect it." He tilted his head slightly, studying your face with interest. "So, tell me, Darlin, what do you enjoy doin' when you're not causin' trouble?" You swallowed hard as he stepped closer to you, his tall frame towering over you and making you feel small. You tried to keep your cool, but your heart was beating faster than normal. "Well," you began, trying to sound as casual as possible, "I like to read, hike, that sort of thing." You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "And you? When you're not busy ranching or chasing trouble, that is."

"Ranchin', ridin' bulls, fixin' things," Benji listed off, shrugging his shoulders. "The usual stuff. Nothin' too excitin'." He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting over your face. "But I gotta say, spendin' time with pretty ladies like yourself is always a nice change of pace." He flashed you another wink before pushing himself off the wall completely and straightening up to his full height. "Anyway, I best get goin'. Got some chores waitin' for me back home. But I hope to see you 'round these parts again real soon, Y/N." With that, he touched the brim of his hat in farewell and strode off down the street, leaving you watching after him with a fluttering stomach and a racing pulse. You watched as he walked off, his tall, muscular frame striding away with ease. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you found yourself staring after him long after he had disappeared from sight. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself that he was just a charming cowboy who probably said those kinds of things to a lot of girls. But still, you couldn't deny the effect he had on you. You knew you'd be seeing more of him soon, and that thought both thrilled and unnerved you.

As the days went by, you found yourself thinking about Benji more and more. You kept your guard up, trying to convince yourself that it was just a simple crush, nothing serious. But with each passing day, you found yourself growing more and more infatuated with him. You tried to push him out of your mind, but he was like a stubborn weed, refusing to be uprooted from your thoughts. The more you tried to avoid him, the more you found yourself in places where you might run into him. It was as if your own subconscious was betraying you. As the days passed, Benji couldn't help but notice the way you would glance his way whenever you happened to cross paths. There was something different about you, something more than just a simple crush. He wondered if you felt the same pull towards him as he did towards you. One afternoon, while he was working in the barn, he caught sight of you strolling past, your hair blowing gently in the wind. He watched you for a moment, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your waist. Then, without thinking, he called out to you.

You were walking past the barn, lost in your own thoughts when the sound of your name being called broke you out of your reverie. You looked up to see Benji standing outside the barn, his lean, muscular form illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the doors. Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly composed yourself and walked over to where he was standing. "Hey," you said breathlessly. Benji grinned as you approached, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Afternoon, Darlin'," he drawled, tipping his hat to you. "Been thinkin' about you lately." He leaned against the barn doorframe, his biceps flexing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. "Wonderin' if you might wanna take a ride with me sometime. Out to the river, maybe. It's a mighty fine spot for picnics and such." He winked at you suggestively, his meaning clear. "Whaddya say? Wanna spend some time with me this weekend?" Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you tried to maintain your composure. Spending time alone with Benji, out in the wilderness, just the two of you? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and the thought of spending a day in his company was very tempting. "Umm, yeah, sure," you said, trying to sound casual. "I mean, that sounds nice."

Benji's grin widened at your acceptance, and he clapped you on the shoulder, his touch firm and reassuring. "That's the spirit, Darlin'," he said, his voice low and encouraging. "Saturday mornin', meet me at the stable by nine. We'll saddle up and head on out." He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Looking forward to it," he added, before turning and disappearing back into the barn, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness wash over you. You stood there for a moment, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your shoulder, as you watched him disappear into the barn. Your heart was racing in your chest as you replayed his words in your head. A day alone with him, out by the river… It sounded both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You smiled to yourself, your mind already imagining what the day might hold. You'd have to prepare, and make sure you had everything ready for the ride. And most importantly, try to calm down your nerves before the big day.

The next few days passed quickly, filled with preparations and anticipation. You packed a small picnic basket with sandwiches, fruit, and a couple of bottles of water, and made sure you had everything you needed for a day out in the sun. The night before the ride, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of what the next day might bring. You tried to calm yourself, to remind yourself that it was just a casual outing with a handsome cowboy, nothing more. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the anxious flutter in your stomach. Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the ranch with its usual vigor. Benji was already waiting for you at the stables when you arrived, his horse saddled and ready to go. He greeted you with a wide smile and a tip of his hat, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Mornin', Darlin'," he drawled, his voice warm and inviting. "Ready for our little adventure?" He held out a hand to help you mount your horse, his fingers brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. Once you were settled in the saddle, he swung himself up onto his own horse with practiced ease, and together, you set off across the open plains, the wind whipping through your hair and the sun warming your skin.

You felt a thrill of excitement and nerves as Benji helped you mount your horse, the brush of his fingers against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. The ride through the open plains was a thrill, the wind whipping through your hair and the sun warming your skin. You chanced a glance at Benji as you rode, taking in his lean, muscular frame, the way his hips moved with the rhythm of the horse's gait. You tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach and focus on the beauty of the landscape, but it was hard not to feel the pull of his presence beside you. As you rode, Benji pointed out various landmarks and shared stories about the land and its history. His deep, resonant voice washed over you, and you found yourself hanging on his every word. The miles seemed to melt away under the horses' hooves, and before long, you reached the riverbank. Benji dismounted first, then turned to help you down from your horse. He led you to a shaded spot near the water's edge, where a large oak tree provided welcome relief from the sun. "Here we are," he said, spreading out the blanket he'd brought along. "Ain't she a beaut?" The river sparkled in the sunlight, its waters crystal clear and inviting. Benji gestured for you to sit down, and you graciously accepted, settling in for a relaxing afternoon by the river.

You felt a sense of peace wash over you as you took in the beauty of the river, its waters sparkling in the sunlight. You sat down on the blanket, your skin prickling with anticipation at the thought of spending the afternoon alone with Benji. He settled down beside you, his body close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. The two of you ate your picnic lunch, chatting and laughing, sharing stories and jokes. The hours seemed to fly by in a blur, and before you knew it, the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky. Benji became increasingly attentive, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. His presence was comforting, and you found yourself drawn to him even more. As the afternoon wore on, the heat of the day began to wane, replaced by a cool breeze that carried the scent of wildflowers and grass. Benji stretched out beside you on the blanket, propping himself up on an elbow to watch you. "You're doin' real good, Darlin'," he said, his voice low and appreciative. "Real good." He reached out, tracing a finger lightly down the side of your arm, sending another jolt of electricity through your system. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close you were sitting to him, how easily he could reach out and touch you.

You felt your breath catch in your chest as his finger traced down your arm, sending a shock of electricity crackling through your body. His words washed over you, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and exposed. You tried to keep your cool, but it was hard not to notice the way he was looking at you, his gaze intense and full of desire. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. The tension between you was palpable, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Benji watched you closely, his eyes reflecting a smoldering intensity. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "You know, I've been wantin' to get my hands on you since the moment I laid eyes on ya." His voice was low and husky, sending a ripple of desire coursing through your veins. He placed a hand on your thigh, his grip firm yet gentle, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just above your knee. "How 'bout we make the most of this beautiful day?"

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he leaned in close, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the strength of his hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. Your mind was racing, torn between the thrill of his touch and the knowledge of what might happen if you let yourself go. You took a shaky breath, trying to find your voice. "What did you have in mind?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Benji's lips curved into a wicked smile, his eyes darkening with lustful intent. "Well, for starters," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, "how 'bout we lose these clothes?" He tugged gently at the hem of your shirt, his fingers deftly working their way up to your shoulders. "Seems like a shame to waste such a lovely day all covered up." His touch was light, teasing, promising more than just a simple undressing. The sensation of his fingers on your skin was intoxicating, making you forget everything else except the desire burning within you. You nodded slowly, unable to resist the urge to give in to his touch. "Okay," you breathed out, your voice laced with longing. You lifted your arms, allowing him to peel your shirt off, exposing your bare torso to the warm afternoon air. The sight of his hands on you, the look in his eyes, it was all too much, and you found yourself leaning in closer, craving the contact.

Benji's hands moved with purpose, peeling off your shirt and tossing it aside. His eyes roamed over your exposed flesh, drinking in the sight of the curves of your body. He let out a low growl of approval, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants, unfastening them with a swift motion. "You're gorgeous," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He pushed your pants down, along with your underwear, revealing the rest of your body to his hungry gaze. You felt a rush of heat flood through you as he stripped you bare, his eyes raking over your naked form with undisguised hunger. The cool air kissed your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. You reached out tentatively, running your hands over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "Your turn," you murmured, tugging at the hem of his shirt. You wanted to see him, to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the heat of his body.

Benji stood up, shedding his shirt with a fluid motion, revealing his muscular torso to your eager gaze. He looked down at you, his expression filled with raw desire. "Like what you see?" he teased, his voice rough with arousal. He kicked off his boots and stepped out of his pants, standing before you completely nude. His member stood erect, throbbing with need, a clear indication of his desire for you. The sight of him, so powerful and virile, sent a wave of desire crashing over you. You reached out, tracing a finger down the length of his cock, feeling it twitch under your touch. "I can't deny it," you admitted your voice a mix of awe and lust. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his chest, tasting the salt of his skin. Your tongue darted out, flicking over a hardened nipple, savoring the sharp intake of his breath. Benji groaned softly, his hands finding their way to your head, threading through your hair. "That feels damn good," he breathed out, his voice strained with pleasure. He guided your head, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to taste the essence of his manhood. His hips bucked slightly, pushing his cock deeper into your warm, wet mouth.

The sound of his pleasure fueled your own, driving you to take him deeper, to explore every inch of him with your mouth. You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, savoring the salty tang of his pre-cum. Your hands wandered down his body, gripping his ass firmly, pulling him closer to your eager mouth. Benji's grip on your hair tightened as he lost himself in the sensations of your skilled mouth. "Fuck, yeah…just like that," he ground out, his hips rolling in rhythm with your movements. He could feel the heat building, his climax approaching rapidly. With a guttural moan, he pulled back, his cock glistening with your saliva. "Gonna flip you over now," he rasped, his eyes blazing with lust. "Want to be inside you when I come." The thought of him taking you from behind, filling you completely, sent a surge of excitement through your body. You nodded eagerly, turning onto your stomach, and presenting yourself to him. You glanced back over your shoulder, watching as he positioned himself behind you, his cock brushing against your slick entrance.

Benji's eyes met yours, a flash of false concern crossing his face before a sly grin spread across his lips. "Don't worry, darlin'," he purred, reaching over to grab a condom from his discarded jeans. He tore open the packet with his teeth and rolled the latex over his throbbing erection. "Now, where were we?" He gripped your hips, guiding his cock to your entrance, teasing you with the tip before finally thrusting deep inside you in one smooth motion. The sensation of being filled so completely made you gasp, your body arching back against him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you, claiming you as his own. You clenched around him instinctively, your inner walls clamping down on him, desperate for more. "Oh god…" you moaned, the pleasure almost too intense to bear. Benji began to move, setting a steady pace, each thrust driving deeper into your welcoming warmth. His hands explored your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, digging into your flesh as he fucked you relentlessly. "Damn, you're tight," he grunted, his strokes becoming more forceful, more urgent. He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your neck.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your back, syncopated with the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensation of his hard body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly, was overwhelming. You pushed back against him, meeting his strokes, increasing the intensity of the encounter. "Harder," you begged, your voice a needy whimper. "Please, fuck me harder." A feral growl escaped Benji's throat at your plea, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He pounded into you mercilessly, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. One hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "You want it harder, baby? Want me to fuck this sweet little cunt until you scream my name?" His words were filthy, his tone commanding, demanding. He pinched your nipple, twisting the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pain-pleasure straight to your core. The combination of pain and pleasure was too much, pushing you closer to the edge. You cried out, your voice ringing with both agony and ecstasy. "Yes! Fuck yes!" You rocked back against him, desperate for more, for everything he had to offer. Your orgasm built rapidly, coiling tightly within you, ready to explode at any moment.

Benji could feel your body tensing, and hear the desperation in your cries. He knew you were close, teetering on the brink of release. He redoubled his efforts, slamming into you with abandon, chasing his own impending climax. "Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice strained with exertion. "Let go, I've got you." His thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles, pushing you over the precipice. "That's it, fucking come on my cock." His words were punctuated by a particularly deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The sensation of your walls clamping down on him, milking his cock, was enough to send him careening over the edge. He came with a roar, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself inside you. The sensation of his cum filling you, marking you as his, was all it took to push you into oblivion. You screamed his name, your entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You could barely stand, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but he held you up, keeping you anchored to reality even as you spiraled into bliss.

Benji collapsed atop you, his heavy breathing mingling with your own ragged gasps. He remained buried inside you, his cock throbbing with aftershocks of pleasure. Slowly, he withdrew, his spent member sliding free with a slick pop. He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours, seeking confirmation of what had just happened between them. "Was that okay?" he asked, his voice husky with satisfaction. You smiled weakly, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "It was incredible," you murmured, your voice a whisper. You reached up, running your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. The taste of him on your lips, the memory of his touch, was enough to make your heart flutter. Benji kissed you back tenderly, his lips moving against yours with a rare gentleness. He pulled away slowly, his gaze lingering on your flushed features. "I'd say we're even now," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stood, offering you a hand to help you up. "But I'm thinking we might need another round to really settle things."

[f14fun]

A Cowgirl's Stars, Stripes, and Speed (!black-!cowgirl-!singer x dr3) (C1)

synopsis: in which case y/n, a bold African American country singer, crosses paths with Daniel, a charming Australian Formula 1 driver, both tipsy and unwound by the night.

prose + smau (20.6K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩z profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author's note: i desperately had to write a daniel ff, because a) the austin grand prix is nearing and b) i'm terribly sad about his sudden departure. daniel, we all love you so much and wish the best for you! remember to #fea (f' 'em all) <3

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Austin, Texas had nothing on me.

The dingy little bar — well, to me it was dingy because it was the family bar — was dimly lit, with neon signs casting a faint, almost ghostly glow across the weathered wooden walls. The low hum of chatter mixed with the clink of glasses, and even though it was nearing midnight, the place had only gotten busier. Crowds swayed to the twang of a fiddle in the background, boots stomping across the sticky floor. Outside, the summer heat still clung to the air, making the inside feel close and hazy, like the walls were holding in the laughter and stories of the night.

I’d played more shows here than I could count, my boots leaving their mark on the same stage where my granddaddy used to strum his guitar. Most nights felt predictable, but this one felt different, like the air was charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I wasn’t much for Formula 1 — Texas rodeos and horse racing were more my speed — but I knew every year when the race came through Austin, our little bar saw a wave of tourists eager for a taste of country. And tonight, as I leaned against the bar nursing my bourbon, the buzz of unfamiliar accents swirled around me, a reminder that the city had filled up with people from all over the world, looking for thrills in the dust and heat of Texas.

"Y/N, baby, why don’t you get up there and play a few songs?" my mom said, wiping her hands on a towel as she leaned over the bar. Her voice was soft, but that familiar nudge was behind it — the kind that never really left room for much argument.

I hesitated, swirling the last bit of bourbon in my glass. “I don’t know, Mama... it’s packed tonight,” I replied, glancing around at the sea of faces — mostly tourists, loud and unfamiliar. “Besides, they’re not here for me. Just here for a taste of Texas, right? A rodeo queen, not a country girl with a guitar.”

Mama raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’ve got more than a taste of Texas in you. Those folks would be lucky to hear what you can do. You know that.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle in. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play — hell, I’d been singing since I could talk and playing guitar since I was old enough to hold one. But growing up Black in a part of Texas where faces like ours weren’t the norm? That always added a little extra pressure.

Even though our family had earned our place here, built up the bar and our name through years of hard work and music passed down through generations, it never really felt like the eyes watching me were just listening to the music. They were measuring us.

But over the years, we’d carved out a space for ourselves. This bar wasn’t just another honky-tonk; it was ours, The Dusty Rose, and people knew us for more than the color of our skin. Mama’s voice, my granddaddy’s songs, and the family’s grit had earned us some respect in this town. Enough that people came back, year after year, to hear us sing, drink our whiskey, and pretend for a while that we were all part of the same big Texas story.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight, with so many new faces and voices in the crowd, I wasn’t sure I had the courage to step up. I glanced down at my guitar leaning against the wall, its strings worn and familiar, waiting for me like it always did.

Mama’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Y/N, you’ve got the talent and the heart. Don’t let anyone else tell you different. You’re gonna get up there and remind them why they keep coming back.”

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I wasn’t sure if tonight was the night to take on the weight of all those eyes.

I took a deep breath, running my fingers along the worn edge of my glass before setting it down with a soft clink. “Alright, Mama,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Guess it’s time to remind these folks why The Dusty Rose has lasted this long.”

Mama smiled, that proud, knowing smile she always gave me. I stood up, the familiar click of my cowboy boots echoing on the wooden floor, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Without another word, I slung my guitar over my shoulder, the weight of it settling comfortably against my back, like an old friend. The crowd was a blur of faces as I walked toward the stage, my pulse steadying with every step.

As I stepped up, I saw Orville already seated behind his drum kit, twirling a stick between his fingers with that lazy confidence of his. His bright blonde hair stuck out in every direction, his face splashed with freckles that made him look like a mischievous kid, though he was older than me by a good ten years. He looked up, grinning wide. “Well, I’ll be damned, look who’s finally decided to grace us with her presence. You plannin’ on singin’ or just standin’ there lookin’ pretty, Y/N?” he teased, tapping his snare for effect.

“Could do both, Orville,” I shot back, my nerves melting a little under the familiar banter.

To the right of him, Clyde was leaning over the keys, his cowboy hat tipped low over his brow. With a name like Clyde and a deep Southern drawl that stretched out his words for days, he was about as country as they came. He looked up at me with a slow nod. “Ain’t no time like midnight for a little serenadin’, huh?” he drawled, cracking a toothy grin. “Folks gonna think you’re singin’ ‘em to bed.”

Then there was Gus, seated on the stool, strumming a lazy rhythm on the bass. He had a scruffy beard, worn jeans, and the kind of build that said he spent just as much time on a ranch as he did on stage. Gus tilted his head and gave me a half-smile. “Late night’s when the magic happens, darlin’. ‘Sides, these tourists don’t know country music 'til they hear it this time of night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The boys had been with me long enough to know my patterns, and teasing me for wanting to sing so late was their way of easing my nerves. We’d known each other since grade school — back when Orville was the kid who drummed on lunch tables, Clyde would belt out country tunes during recess, and Gus would pluck at strings made of rubber bands, pretending he had a bass in his hands. Now that we were twenty-two, somehow, we still hadn’t split up. Through all the ups and downs, we stuck together, always finding our way back to this stage.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, strumming a few soft chords to tune my guitar, “you all just wait. We’re about to remind this bar why they keep coming back.”

Orville gave his drums a little roll, Clyde’s fingers hovered over the keys, and Gus plucked the bass with a steady beat, all of them waiting on me to start. It was like second nature, this rhythm we shared, a connection built over years of shared songs and late-night jams.

I took one more deep breath, feeling the energy of the room shift toward the stage, my nerves steadying under the soft glow of the spotlight. Time to show them what The Dusty Rose was really about — and remind myself why we never gave up on this.

I stomped my boots on the worn wooden floor, the solid thud cutting through the clamor of the bar. A few heads turned first, followed by more, until the low murmur of voices quieted down after a couple of cheerful whistles and claps from the regulars.

I stepped up to the mic, adjusting the strap of my guitar on my shoulder. “Hey y’all,” I started, my voice carrying over the room. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Y/N. I’m a small singer-songwriter, born and raised right here in Austin.”

Before I could say another word, Gus chuckled from his spot behind me. “Small, my ass. She’s an enigma, and she’s selling herself short, y’all!”

The room rumbled with a few laughs, and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I blushed, turning around to swat him gently on the shoulder. “Gus, you’re lucky I don’t throw my boot at you,” I teased, shaking my head before turning back to the crowd.

“Alright, alright, don’t listen to him,” I said with a smile. “I wanted to play a song tonight that’s a little personal. One I wrote not too long ago... when I found my boyfriend — who, funny enough, was also in the band — cheating on me with my best friend, who used to sing backup vocals.”

A few sympathetic murmurs rose from the crowd, and I could see people shift in their seats, intrigued. “Yeah, it was a mess,” I continued, smiling despite the sting of the memory. “Johnny and Carrie — yeah, those are their real names, y’all — are long gone now. They didn’t just break my heart, they broke the band up too.”

I glanced at Orville, Clyde, and Gus, the ones who’d stuck around. We’d been through hell and back, but we never let anyone tear us down. “But we bounced back. And so did I,” I added with a grin. “This song’s about all that, and how you pick yourself up when the people you trust let you down.”

The room was still, eyes fixed on me as I raised my guitar, fingers poised over the strings. “So, here’s one I like to call Blue.” I stomped my boots once more, giving the boys the cue to kick in. The first slow, mournful chords filled the air, and as I started to sing, the bar held its breath, waiting for the heartache in my voice to tell the rest of the story.

I took a deep breath and let the first notes roll off my tongue, the familiar melody filling the room as my fingers danced across the strings.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

My voice lingered in the air, soft yet steady, as the boys followed in perfect harmony. The crowd had settled into the mood, quiet and still, as if they, too, were feeling the heartache threaded through the lyrics.

"Tears fill my eyes 'til I can't see Three o'clock in the mornin' Here am I, sittin' all alone..."

As I poured myself into the song, my gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when I spotted him. A ruggedly handsome man leaning against the far corner of the bar, his stubble-covered jaw catching the dim light just right, giving him an air of mystery. He had a full head of curls peeking out from under a cowboy hat that didn’t quite fit the way a Texan’s would. He might have been trying to blend in, but it was obvious he wasn’t from around here.

The way he carried himself — that casual yet calculated way of sitting, like he was at ease but somehow apart from it all — made me wonder who the hell he was. Something about him tugged at my attention, even as I sang the words that had been pulling at my heart for months.

"Now that it's over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

My fingers faltered for the briefest second, but I recovered quickly, shaking off the distraction and forcing myself back into the song. Whoever he was, I wasn’t about to let some handsome stranger throw me off my game. Not tonight.

I kept going, but the thought of him lingered at the back of my mind, the heat of his presence warming the room just a little more than it had been before.

The gentle rhythm of Gus’s bass hummed through the room, a steady heartbeat that matched the soulful sway of the song. Each note he plucked seemed to cradle the sadness in my voice, grounding it in something deeper, something raw. Clyde’s fingers danced over the keys, soft and mournful, adding a kind of sweetness to the pain, like the last lingering memory of something you loved but had to let go. Orville’s light taps on the drums gave the song its slow, steady pulse, holding everything together in a rhythm that felt like the ticking of time, dragging me back through memories I’d rather forget.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

The melody wrapped itself around the room, and I could feel the audience sinking into the sadness with me, the song casting a spell over the bar. I was in the zone, letting the music take over, but that rugged stranger in the corner was like a stubborn note I couldn’t shake. His presence tugged at me, even with the sweet sorrow of the keys flowing through the air. He wasn’t watching me like the others; he was studying me, eyes dark under the brim of that cowboy hat that didn’t quite belong.

As my voice rose for the next line, I couldn’t help but glance his way again. His stubbled jaw was clenched like he was thinking hard about something, but there was a glint of something else — maybe curiosity — in his eyes. It unnerved me and fascinated me all at once, the way he didn’t quite fit in, even though he was trying to. And those curls, barely contained by the hat, told me he wasn’t used to this kind of scene. Not here, not in Texas. Not in my bar.

"Now that it’s over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

The bass thudded low, pulling me back into the music. Gus knew just when to make it heavy, the vibrations running through my chest like the ache of an old wound. The keys lifted the sorrow just enough to make it bearable, Clyde’s touch delicate but deliberate. Together, we made the heartache sound beautiful.

But no matter how much I tried to drown myself in the song, I kept catching glimpses of him. The stranger, leaning back casually, his body language saying he was here for the ride, but his eyes telling me there was more to him than that easy posture.

The lyrics fell from my lips, but my mind kept wandering to the question burning in the back of my head: Who was he?

As the final chords of the song rang out, the bar was quiet for a moment, letting the last notes settle before a soft wave of applause rippled through the crowd. I smiled, feeling a strange mix of relief and adrenaline, my heart still thudding in my chest. The boys gave me a few approving nods — Clyde even tipped his hat — and I turned back to the mic, clearing my throat.

“Well, uh, that was a little somethin’ I wrote not too long ago,” I said, feeling the warmth of the stage lights on my face. “If y’all liked it — or if you’re just in the mood to be sad for a bit — it’s out on Spotify, Apple Music, SoundCloud, or whatever platform folks are using these days,” I added with a grin. “I promise, I’ve got some happier stuff too. Probably should’ve started the night off with one of those, huh?”

A few chuckles broke out from the crowd, but one laugh stood out — low and warm, rolling through the room like a wave that hit me square in the chest. It wasn’t like the others. It had weight, something that settled in my stomach and made it twist in a way I wasn’t used to. Almost instinctively, I looked toward the sound, and there he was — the stranger in the corner. His cowboy hat was still tipped low, hiding just enough of his face to make him even more intriguing, but it was the way his eyes locked on mine that made me freeze.

His grin was lazy, like he had all the time in the world, and there was something about the ease of it that made my heart skip a beat. In the soft glow of the bar, it felt like the entire place faded into the background. For a split second, there was nothing but me and him, his gaze holding mine with an intensity I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just that he was watching me; it was like he saw me, past the stage, past the song, and right into that vulnerable place I tried so hard to guard.

And then, just like that, I became a complete mess. Heat rushed to my face, my skin prickling under the spotlight, and I felt my grip on my guitar falter. “Uh, yeah… so, anyway... that’s me,” I stammered, my voice coming out shaky, the words tumbling over each other as I tried to make a coherent sentence. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, no matter how hard I willed it to stop, and I quickly looked away, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But it was too late. The boys behind me noticed — of course they did. I could practically feel Gus grinning at my awkwardness, and Clyde was trying to suppress a chuckle. Orville tapped out a light rhythm on the edge of his drum, clearly enjoying my flustered state. I fumbled with the strap of my guitar, my hands suddenly too shaky to be of any use, my mind still stuck on the way that stranger had looked at me.

I’d performed hundreds of times, faced crowds far bigger than this one, but something about that single moment — that one look from him — had knocked me off balance. My pulse was still racing, and the heat in my cheeks refused to fade. He was just a man, I reminded myself, a guy sitting in the corner of a bar. But it didn’t feel that simple. It felt like he’d peeled back a layer of me in that one glance, leaving me bare under his eyes.

And as I fumbled my way off the stage, trying to get my act together, one thought kept running through my mind: Who the hell is this guy, and why is he making me feel like this?

I cleared my throat and leaned back into the mic with a grin, letting go of the last song’s weight. “Alright, y’all,” I started, flashing a playful smile, “that last one was for all the folks who like to sit and think about their exes at 2 AM — you know who you are,” I added, getting a few chuckles from the crowd.

“But this next one? It’s a little different. We’re gonna turn things up a notch. It’s got a bit of rock in it, so feel free to sing, cry, scream, yell—whatever your heart needs. And if you wanna dance, well, don’t hold back. Just don’t blame me if you’re out of breath by the end!”

The crowd laughed, and I winked. “This one’s called Indifferent, but don’t let the name fool you—it’s anything but.”

I strummed the first few chords, letting the energy shift in the room, and the boys picked up right behind me, Orville giving the drums a little more punch, Clyde leaning into the keys with a rock edge, and Gus keeping the rhythm solid with his bass. I was about to really get into the groove when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

The stranger — cowboy hat and all — stood up from his seat, shaking his curls free as he made his way toward a group of people who had started to sway with the beat. And then he started dancing. And I mean really dancing, not just swaying but full-on, carefree moves, like he didn’t give a damn who was watching.

I couldn’t help it — a laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I almost missed a chord as I watched him. He was good, I had to give him that, but there was something about the way he moved that told me he was trying to get my attention. The way he’d glance over every so often, like he wanted to see if I was watching — and yeah, I was watching.

The more he danced, the more I giggled, barely keeping my voice steady as I kept singing. His cowboy hat bobbed up and down as he spun around, clapping along with the beat, and I could tell he was putting on a show, just for me. My eyes met his again, and he shot me a grin, all cocky and playful, making my heart skip a beat.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the song, but the sight of him — carefree, handsome, and definitely showing off — made it hard to keep my cool. My voice caught just a little as I sang the next line, and I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, I was more amused than flustered.

Oh, he’s trying to impress me, I thought with a smirk. And I couldn’t lie, it was kinda working.

I leaned into the mic, my voice steady as I sang the next line, feeling the shift in energy from the crowd.

"I see your truck and I don't give a—"

Before I could even finish, the crowd roared in unison, screaming out the word I didn’t have to sing. “FUCK!” Their voices echoed off the walls, a mix of laughter and rebellion, and I grinned wide.

But the loudest voice? That came from him.

“FUCK!” he yelled, right along with the crowd, his grin even wider now as he danced like no one was watching — except everyone was. His cowboy hat tipped back as he threw his arms up, and I swear, he looked like he was having the time of his life.

I couldn’t help it — I laughed, nearly missing the next line as I watched him throw himself into the moment. My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so hard, but I kept going, feeding off the energy around me.

"And it don't make my heart skip a beat," I sang, almost giggling through the words, but his eyes were on me again, catching mine as he clapped along with the beat. His dancing had turned into full-on jumping now, and I could see a few others joining in, all feeding off his wild, carefree energy. He was having a blast, and even though I was up on stage, I felt like I was right there with him, swept up in the fun.

I saw him glance at me again, this time with a playful wink, like he knew exactly what he was doing. My heart did that weird little flip again, and I almost tripped over the next verse, the heat creeping up my face once more.

He’s definitely showing off now, I thought, trying to keep my focus on the music. But I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped as I strummed through the chorus. His dance moves might’ve been reckless, but they were working. The crowd was loving him, and so, apparently, was I.

I sang the next line, my voice steady but my heart racing a little faster as his grin widened, his eyes locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what got into me, maybe it was the way he looked so carefree, so unbothered by the world around him, or maybe it was just the thrill of the moment — but before I could stop myself, I tilted my head toward the stage, beckoning him with a playful nod.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but that grin of his never wavered. The crowd cheered him on as he took a few exaggerated, swaggering steps toward the stage, his cowboy hat tipped back and curls bouncing with every step. I laughed, my own confidence rising, and held out my hand as he made his way up.

He took it, and in an instant, we were standing side by side, the crowd going wild as we started to sway together in time with the music. His hand found its way to the small of my back, and I could feel the warmth of it even through my shirt.

The moment felt... electric.

We kept swaying, his towering frame almost comical next to mine, but somehow it worked. His eyes never left mine, and for a split second, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The music kept going, but everything else seemed to blur into the background. I could see the playful glint in his eyes, the way he seemed to be daring me to look away — but I didn’t.

He leaned down just a bit, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “Not bad for a country girl,” he said with a wink.

I giggled, blushing like a schoolgirl as I tried to keep my cool. “Not bad for a guy who’s clearly not from around here,” I shot back, but my voice wavered just a little, betraying how much his presence was throwing me off.

We kept swaying, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm, the lights catching the gleam in his eyes as we held each other's gaze. He towered over me, but I didn’t feel small — not with him, not in this moment. It felt like the rest of the world had faded away, and all that was left was the two of us, swaying together under the soft glow of the stage lights.

I took a deep breath, trying to refocus as the music carried me back into the song, but it wasn’t easy. His presence behind me was impossible to ignore, like he was right there, even though we weren’t touching anymore. My skin tingled with awareness, and I could feel the heat rising to my neck, warming me from the inside out. We were both tipsy, the drinks and the night making everything feel a little looser, a little more charged. But the way he was standing so close—his warmth practically wrapping around me—made it harder to concentrate.

"I'm indifferent, I'm just livin' When your mama calls, I'm reminded you exist And I wish that she didn't 'Cause all my 'give-a-damns', they've already been given..."

My voice stayed steady, but I could feel my heart thudding faster with every word. The crowd was clapping along, some of them singing the lyrics back to me, but all I could think about was him. I knew he was still behind me, standing tall, his presence so strong I could almost feel it on my skin.

As I sang, my breath caught just a little when I felt him shift closer, the slightest brush of his arm near my shoulder. It was nothing, really, just a subtle movement, but it sent a rush of heat up the back of my neck, making my pulse race. My voice wavered for just a second, and I bit my lip, hoping no one noticed how distracted I was.

But I knew he did. I could feel his gaze on me, even though I couldn’t see him.

I played a few more songs, each one building on the last, the energy in the room rising with every note. The crowd was alive now, swaying, clapping, and singing along. I felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through me, the nerves from earlier completely gone, replaced by this wild confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time. The music was in my veins, lifting me up, and for the first time all night, I felt completely at ease on stage.

But even with the thrill of the crowd, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. I could feel his presence in the room, like a constant hum just below the surface, and every time I caught a glimpse of his curls or that easy grin from across the bar, my pulse quickened.

As the final chord of my last song rang out, I stepped away from the mic, feeling a surge of applause wash over me. I grinned, tipping my hat to the crowd, but my eyes were searching for him. And then, there he was, standing near the bar, his gaze locked on mine. The cheers of the crowd faded into the background, everything else becoming a blur as I zeroed in on him.

Before I could even believe it, my feet started moving. It was like my body had a mind of its own, dragging me toward him before my brain could even catch up. Each step felt like I was crossing some invisible line, the adrenaline still coursing through me, making me feel bold, invincible.

I wasn’t thinking about anything else but the way his eyes held mine, steady and sure, as I made my way across the room. It was like gravity was pulling me toward him, and I wasn’t about to fight it. Before I knew it, I was standing right in front of him, close enough to catch the faint scent of cologne and the hint of whiskey on his breath.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the heat rising to my face again, but I wasn’t about to turn back. Not now. He gave me that same lazy grin, tipping his hat just slightly as his eyes twinkled with amusement, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

I opened my mouth to say something — anything — but the words got stuck somewhere between my head and my heart. All I knew was that I wasn’t leaving this bar without knowing who the hell this guy was.

He looked down at me, that lazy grin spreading wider as he tipped his hat back just a bit, giving me a full view of those mischievous eyes. “Well, if I knew your singing was that good, I would’ve pretended to break my heart a long time ago,” he said, his voice low and teasing, with just a hint of an accent that wasn’t from around here.

I blinked, caught completely off guard, and then burst into a laugh I hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get a song out of me,” I shot back, still feeling the heat in my cheeks but trying to keep my cool.

He chuckled, leaning in just a little, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him. “Lucky for you, I’m not lookin’ to break any hearts tonight — just thought I’d make an impression.”

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met again, and before I could help it, I smiled. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of that,” I muttered, trying not to trip over my own words.

He straightened up, giving me a playful wink. “Well, I aim to please, darlin’.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling bolder than I had all night, and shot him a smirk. “You look like you love me,” I teased, the words slipping out with more confidence than I thought I had. The line from that song was on the tip of my tongue, and it felt just right for the moment.

His grin widened, and for a split second, he looked like I’d caught him off guard. But then he leaned in just a little, his voice low and smooth. “Well, maybe I do,” he said, the teasing tone still there but with just enough seriousness to make my heart skip.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I met his gaze, my smirk fading into something softer. “Careful,” I replied, my voice quieter now, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He chuckled, that lazy grin still in place. “Maybe I like the sound of that.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him with a playful smirk. “I saw you lookin’ me up and down from across the room,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “You weren’t exactly being subtle.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying the banter. “Subtle’s never been my strong suit,” he shot back, his voice low and smooth. “But hey, can you blame me? You were up there making it pretty hard not to look.”

I bit my lip, fighting back a laugh as I shook my head. “You got a lot of nerve saying that out loud, you know.”

He shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “Just calling it like I see it. You’re the one who beckoned me up here, remember?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my composure, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks again. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not subtle either.”

He tilted his head, giving me that same cocky grin. “No complaints here, darlin’.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. “Alright, mystery man, you’ve been charming me for the last few minutes, but you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

He leaned back slightly, tipping his hat with a playful glint in his eyes. “Name’s Daniel,” he said, his accent wrapping around the words just right. “And you, miss, have definitely made this night a lot more interesting.”

“Well, Daniel,” I replied, giving him a once-over just like he had done to me earlier, “I think the feeling’s mutual.”

I raised an eyebrow, still grinning as I asked, “So, where’s that accent of yours from? I know it ain’t local.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before answering, “Perth. Australia.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised. “Australia, huh? Never been there before.” I paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “Heard it’s nice, though. Beaches and all that.”

Daniel nodded, his grin widening a bit. “Yeah, we’ve got the beaches. But it’s more than just that. You should visit sometime, I’d make a pretty good tour guide.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, I bet you would,” I said, trying to imagine what it would be like to visit a place so far from Texas. “Sounds like a whole world away from here.”

“It is,” he admitted, his eyes locking on mine again. “But I reckon you’d fit in just fine.”

I tilted my head, feeling a smirk pull at the corner of my lips. “Oh, you think so? I’m not exactly the ‘surf and sand’ kind of girl. I’m more boots and dirt roads.”

Daniel chuckled, his gaze still holding mine, like he was seeing straight through the sass and into something deeper. “I dunno, I think you could rock the Aussie lifestyle. Maybe even swap those boots for some thongs,” he teased, leaning in just enough to close the space between us a little more.

I blinked, the word catching me off guard, and then burst into laughter. “What the fuck are thongs?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You Aussies have some weird ideas about footwear.”

Daniel paused for a second, then laughed, realizing his mistake. “Oh, right... over here, thongs are something else entirely,” he said, his grin turning a little mischievous. “In Australia, they’re just flip-flops. But I like where your mind went.”

I felt my face flush, a mix of the whiskey and the sudden innuendo hitting me all at once. “Well, maybe you should clarify next time,” I shot back, trying to sound confident despite the warmth creeping up my neck. “I was starting to think you had some very bold ideas for this first conversation.”

He smirked, leaning in just a little closer. “Trust me, if I wanted to make a bold suggestion, I wouldn’t be talking about footwear.” His voice dropped low, teasing, as he let the words hang between us.

My heart skipped a beat, and I fought the urge to stammer. “Well, good to know,” I managed to reply, my voice quieter now, my gaze locked on his. “But for the record, boots are staying. Thongs or no thongs.”

He chuckled, the laughter low and warm, and I could feel the space between us shrink even more. “Noted,” he said, his eyes twinkling with that same playful spark. “But if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here to help you pick the right pair.”

I smirked, shaking my head, but before I could respond, he tilted his head, still grinning like he had a whole world of charm left to unleash.

“Well, if I can make it out here to a bar in Texas, maybe one day you could try Australia. I’d personally make sure it’s worth your while.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Big promises, Daniel from Perth. You must think pretty highly of your tour guide skills.”

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Just sayin’, you might find there’s more to life than boots and honky-tonks. Besides,” he added, his voice lowering slightly, “I’d make sure you’d never forget it.”

My heart skipped a beat, his words sending a rush of warmth through me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Careful now,” I replied, my voice soft but steady, “I’m not so easily impressed.”

Daniel grinned, tipping his hat slightly as he leaned back. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder then, won’t I?”

I grinned at him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the bar. “You’ve got a lot of confidence, Daniel from Perth. But I’ve been around enough smooth talkers to know when someone’s bluffing.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to keep the playful tension in the air. “Bluffing? I don’t bluff. Just telling it like it is.” He motioned to the bartender. “Let me prove it to you. First round’s on me.”

I laughed, shaking my head but not protesting as the bartender slid two drinks our way. “Fine, I’ll bite,” I said, taking the glass. “But I’ll have you know, Texans can hold their liquor, and I’m not easy to out-drink.”

Daniel’s grin only widened. “Oh, I’ve got my work cut out for me, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

We clinked our glasses together, and before I knew it, the drinks were flowing just as easily as the conversation. Time seemed to blur, the crowd around us fading into the background as we swapped stories and traded teasing remarks. My guitar, once my only focus of the night, now sat forgotten against a pole near the bar, its case propped up and covered with old stickers and layers of chipped paint from the years of wear. But I didn’t care.

“Okay, I have to ask,” I said, my words slightly slurred from the whiskey but still full of curiosity. “How does a guy from Australia end up here, of all places? Texas isn’t exactly next door.”

He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “Racing,” he replied simply, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “I travel a lot for it. Came for the Austin Grand Prix. Thought I’d stop by a local bar, get a feel for the place. Lucky me, huh?”

I felt the warmth from the drinks spreading through me, loosening me up even more. “Racing, huh? So, what, you’re like a big-time driver?” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that. But tonight, I’m just a guy trying to keep up with a Texas girl who’s got a pretty good whiskey tolerance.”

I grinned, feeling the heat in my cheeks and not just from the alcohol. “Well, you’re doing alright so far. But don’t think a few drinks and a smile are gonna get you off the hook that easy.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Daniel said, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes held mine for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart race a little faster.

We laughed together, leaning in closer, drinks in hand, the weight of the night slipping away. The bar around us blurred into the background, as if it didn’t matter anymore — just the two of us, the warmth of his touch, the easy rhythm of our conversation, as natural as the music I’d been playing hours ago. Our hands brushed more often, his arm finding its way around my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my back in moments that felt casual but were charged with something more.

Before I knew it, we were touching more than talking — my hand resting on his arm, his thumb grazing the small of my back. The buzz of the alcohol had me feeling light, and every time his fingertips lingered a little longer, a blush crept up my neck. I could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned closer to whisper something that had us both giggling again.

The next thing I knew, we were stumbling out of the bar, calling an Uber, the cool night air doing nothing to shake the warmth between us. The ride was a blur of drunken laughter, our legs pressing against each other as his arm wrapped snugly around my waist. The city lights flew by in a haze, but all I could focus on was the way his touch made my heart race. His grip on me tightened, pulling me closer, and I was too drunk and too tipsy to even pretend not to blush.

Then, suddenly, we were back at his hotel room. The door clicked shut behind us, and we both broke into a fit of giggles, stumbling inside like we were sneaking in after curfew. His arm never left my waist, and I couldn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach as he pulled me against him, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down my spine.

“Shhh,” I whispered between giggles, trying to stifle the sound, but it was impossible when he looked at me with that boyish grin, like he was having the time of his life.

“Quiet was never my strong suit,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, sending another wave of heat through me. I blushed even harder, barely able to keep my composure as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand resting on my hip like he never wanted to let go.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, every inch of me aware of his body so close, his touch gentle but firm, like he was holding back just enough. His breath was warm against my skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my side, and the more he touched me, the more I felt my resolve slipping.

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension building between us, but it only made him grin wider. “You’re really bad at this whole ‘quiet’ thing,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper as my hand slid up to rest against his chest. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm, and the closeness of it all made my own pulse race.

He chuckled softly, his hand tightening just slightly on my hip. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to stay quiet when I’m this close to you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of something deeper than just the alcohol. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else fell away. It was just us, standing there, barely holding it together in the haze of the night.

Before I could think about it, I found myself leaning in, my breath catching as his lips brushed against mine, soft and teasing. It wasn’t a full kiss — just the faintest touch — but it sent a jolt through me that made my knees weak. I blushed again, harder this time, but I didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

Instead, he smiled against my lips, his hand sliding up from my hip to gently cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek. “You’re blushing again,” he whispered, and I could hear the teasing note in his voice.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, but there was no hiding the heat in my cheeks or the way I was leaning into him, my body betraying how much I wanted to be close.

We started kissing, and the night blurred together, in a mess of liquor, sticky kisses, and well what do you know, my guitar lay upright against a chair, watching the entire thing.

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I didn’t know where the fuck I was.

I blinked, staring up at a ceiling that definitely wasn’t mine, with sheets that smelled way too expensive for my budget. My head was pounding like I’d been hit by a freight train, and as I tried to roll over, something — no, someone — stopped me.

That’s when I felt it.

An arm. A very muscular arm. Draped over me like we were starring in a rom-com, except I definitely didn’t remember signing up for this role.

I squinted around the room, trying to piece together the disaster that was my life. My shirt was flung haphazardly across a chair, my boots were tipped over near the door, and... was that his cowboy hat sitting on the dresser? Oh god.

Oh god, no.

And then it all came rushing back — the whiskey, the dancing, the flirting, the thongs conversation. And then, as if on cue, the faint sound of an alarm started buzzing on his phone, because apparently this guy sets alarms like a responsible adult after a night of drunken debauchery.

“Well, shit,” I muttered under my breath.

I lay there, trying to pretend I was still asleep, or dead, or invisible—any of which would be preferable to dealing with the fact that I had absolutely no idea what to do next. Daniel’s arm was still heavy around my waist, his slow, steady breathing telling me he hadn’t woken up yet.

Okay, Y/N, just stay calm. Maybe he won’t even remember… Or maybe you can just ninja your way out of this without waking him up.

I carefully, carefully shifted my leg, inching toward freedom, but the moment I tried to move, Daniel stirred. His arm tightened around me slightly, and I froze, heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to break free and escape the situation without me.

Please don’t wake up. Please just keep dreaming about kangaroos or whatever it is Australians dream about...

But then I felt him shift again. This time, he let out a low, sleepy groan. Oh god. He was waking up. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck, and my entire body went stiff, like maybe if I played dead, he’d just go back to sleep.

But nope.

I heard him take a deep breath, and then his groggy voice cut through the awkward silence. “Morning, darlin’.”

Shit.

His voice was raspy, deep, and far too casual for someone who had a front-row seat to my current state of oh-my-god-what-have-I-done. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the ground to just swallow me whole, but apparently, the universe didn’t grant those kinds of wishes.

I cleared my throat, still trying to stay as still as possible, like maybe if I didn’t move or respond, this entire moment would cease to exist. “Uh… morning,” I finally muttered, my voice betraying me with a nervous crack.

I could feel him shift behind me, and then — to my absolute horror — he pulled me in closer, his arm still firmly wrapped around my waist. Great. Now I’m spooning a guy I barely know, and I don’t even have a shirt on. What a stellar life choice, Y/N.

“So… how’re you feelin’?” he asked, his voice low and way too smooth for a guy who probably didn’t have a hangover.

How am I feeling? Like I’ve just woken up in a rom-com, except the comedy is my life falling apart, I thought, but instead, I just blurted, “Fine. Totally fine.”

My face was heating up again. I was like a human tomato at this point. I could feel him smiling behind me, like he was enjoying the fact that I was internally combusting.

“You don’t sound fine,” he teased, his voice dipping into that playful tone that I was beginning to realize was very dangerous for me.

I finally turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He had that messy bedhead look going on — the kind that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow was, and that damn lazy grin hadn’t left his face.

“Listen,” I said, trying to inject some semblance of control into my voice, “we’re just gonna pretend like none of this happened, okay?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, sending a shiver down my spine. “You mean the part where you dragged me back to my room, or the part where you kept giggling every time I tried to be quiet?”

My eyes widened. “I did not drag you back here!”

“Yeah, I think the Uber driver might disagree with that,” he replied, his grin widening.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“You and me both, darlin’,” he said, chuckling again as he gave my waist a playful squeeze. “But I gotta say, I’m not exactly complaining’.”

I let out a nervous laugh from under the blanket, but inside, I was mortified. I wasn’t the type to have one-night stands—like, ever. The last time I had one was three years ago, before Johnny and I started dating. And even then, I’d sworn it off because of how awkward and weird the whole thing felt afterward.

And the last time I’d had sex? Six months ago. Six. I wasn’t even sure how I managed last night, let alone with someone as confident and charming as Daniel. I didn’t do this. I wasn’t that girl who woke up in a stranger’s bed with her shirt somewhere across the room and no memory of how she got there.

I peeked out from under the blanket, feeling my face burning hotter by the second. “I just… I don’t do this. Like, ever.”

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning like this was the most entertaining morning he’d had in a while. “Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed like a pro last night.”

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, don’t say that,” I groaned, burying my face back into the pillow. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughed, his voice softening just a little. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We were both tipsy, had a good time, and now we’re just... waking up. Happens to the best of us.”

I peeked out from the pillow again, trying to gauge if he was just messing with me or being sincere. But the easygoing look on his face hadn’t changed. He didn’t seem fazed at all, while I was over here spiraling.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the chaotic thoughts running through my head. Okay, maybe I could play it cool too—pretend like I wasn’t freaking out. But as I shifted under the blanket, trying to figure out how to extract myself from this mess, I felt a sudden, horrifying realization.

No bra.

I stiffened, my eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to remember where the hell it went. My shirt was across the room, but no sign of the bra. Oh god.

I glanced at Daniel, who was watching me with that amused grin still plastered on his face. He noticed the moment I realized it—of course he did. His grin widened, and before I could even attempt to form a coherent excuse, he raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, “Looking for something, darlin’? Because I’m not sure it’s gonna walk back over here on its own.”

My face turned beet red. “I—uh—this is just…” I stammered, covering myself with the blanket more securely, like that would magically undo everything.

He let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying every second of my mortification. “Don’t worry, your shirt’s over there, and I think your bra… well, it might’ve decided to take an extended vacation,” he teased, pointing toward the floor, where it lay crumpled in the corner like some sort of defeated symbol of my night.

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself. “This is so not how I thought my night would end,” I mumbled through my fingers.

Daniel leaned in, still grinning like the cat who got the cream. “If it helps, I think you handled yourself pretty damn well for someone who doesn’t ‘do this,’” he teased, his voice full of playful charm.

I groaned, unable to stop the embarrassed laughter bubbling out of me. “Oh my god, stop,” I muttered, half laughing, half dying inside. But there was something about his laid-back attitude, the way he wasn’t making this feel weird or awkward, that made me feel just a little better.

At least one of us was good at handling this kind of thing.

I couldn’t stop laughing now, even though every cell in my body wanted to melt into the mattress and disappear. But Daniel wasn’t letting up, his teasing coming in waves.

“You know,” he said with a grin, “I’ve heard of people losing their dignity after a night like this, but you managed to misplace your bra too. That’s impressive.”

I rolled my eyes, still hiding my face in my hands. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. Maybe I’ll just stay under this blanket forever.”

He chuckled again, sitting up slightly and stretching, looking way too comfortable considering the situation. “Can’t say I blame you. This bed is pretty damn nice. But I’m starting to think you’re just stalling because you don’t want to leave me.”

I shot him a glare, trying to smother the blush on my cheeks. “I’m not stalling. I’m just… regrouping.”

“Right,” he nodded sagely. “Regrouping. Take all the time you need, darlin’. I’ll just be over here, admiring your tactical approach to gathering your scattered clothing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, finally throwing the blanket off and clumsily scrambling out of bed. My hair was a mess, and I was pretty sure I looked like I’d just survived a tornado, but I was determined to reclaim some shred of dignity. As I stumbled over to where my shirt lay crumpled across the chair, Daniel’s voice piped up again.

“Wow,” he said, a little quieter this time, and I turned to see him watching me with an entirely different look—more serious, though still with that glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I gotta say, you’re even more beautiful in the morning.”

I paused, my hand halfway to my shirt, and felt my heart do a little flip. “Really?” I asked, trying not to sound too flustered as I glanced at him.

He nodded, that easy smile still on his face but softer now. “Yeah. Really.”

I stared at him for a second, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks again but in a different way this time. There was something about the way he said it, so casual and genuine, that made me stop caring so much about the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Well,” I said, finally grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head, “you’re not too bad yourself… for someone who’s spent the night making terrible jokes at my expense.”

Daniel laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I can’t help it. You make it way too easy.”

I shook my head, still smiling, as I gathered the rest of my things. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. I’ll be sure to remember all of this next time I decide to ‘misplace’ my bra.”

Daniel grinned, watching as I gathered up the last of my things, still laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Well, if you ever need help finding it again,” he said smoothly, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at me with that lazy smile, “you might wanna give me a way to contact you.”

I paused, looking over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you’re slick, huh?”

He shrugged, giving me an innocent look that was anything but. “Just thinking ahead. In case you lose any more important items in the future… like your phone, your hat—hell, your sense of direction, since you clearly needed help last night.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “You really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

He tilted his head, flashing a charming grin. “Darlin’, you already fell for it.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, but there was no denying the grin on my face as I grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “Fine, I’ll put my number in your phone. But if I get any messages about lost bras, I’m blocking you,” I teased, typing my number into his contacts and tossing the phone back to him.

He caught it effortlessly, grinning as he glanced down at the screen. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, winking. “Unless you’re the one sending me a distress call next time.”

I shook my head, smirking as I turned toward the door. “You wish.”

“Already do,” he called out behind me, his voice playful and teasing, but with just enough sincerity to make my heart skip a beat as I left the room.

As soon as I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. Relief washed over me, but so did the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. Holy hell, I actually survived that.

I stood there for a moment, my heart still racing from the whirlwind of the morning. Daniel’s playful smirk, his damn smooth lines—it was all still buzzing in my head, and the fact that I’d somehow managed to walk away with my dignity (mostly) intact felt like a miracle.

But then I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the end of the hallway. Oh no.

I was a mess. My hair looked like it had been through a windstorm, and my shirt from last night was wrinkled beyond repair. The smudged mascara under my eyes was giving me a whole new level of “walk of shame,” and I couldn’t help but cringe at my reflection.

This is what I left the room looking like? Oh, great.

I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the wild tangles and make myself look at least halfway decent. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, trying to straighten it out, but no matter what I did, it still screamed “last night’s mistakes.” I wiped away the smudged mascara with the edge of my sleeve, doing my best to clean up the damage.

My cheeks were still flushed from the sheer embarrassment of it all, and no amount of quick fixes was going to change the fact that I had just walked out of a guy’s hotel room looking like a hot mess. I bit my lip, shaking my head at myself in the mirror, my heart still pounding in my chest.

“Well, this is a look,” I muttered to myself, giving my reflection one last, exasperated glance before squaring my shoulders and heading for the elevator. Just get out of here, Y/N. Fast.

I smoothed my hair down one last time, took a deep breath, and headed toward the elevator, praying no one else in the hallway had witnessed my tragic attempt at post-hookup self-repair. The faster I got out of this hotel, the better. I was already pressing the elevator button repeatedly like I could summon it faster through sheer desperation.

Come on, come on…

Finally, the doors slid open, and I practically leaped inside. But the universe had other plans for me, because standing right there, already in the elevator, were Carrie and Johnny.

My heart stopped. I almost crapped my panties.

Carrie, my ex-best friend. Johnny, my ex-boyfriend. Of course they were here. Of all the elevators in this damn hotel. My stomach dropped as the realization hit me like a freight train, and suddenly I was right back in the middle of the heartbreak they’d both caused, except this time I looked like I’d just rolled out of a frat party.

I stared at them, my mind racing, wondering if I could somehow reverse time and avoid stepping into this death trap. But it was too late. I was standing there, and they were looking at me. Johnny’s eyes flicked up and down, taking in my rumpled clothes and messy hair. Carrie’s smile faltered, and her eyes widened, like she was realizing exactly what kind of morning I was having.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“Y/N?” Carrie’s voice was soft but laced with that familiar fake concern. “Wow, it’s been a while.”

Johnny just stood there, staring, that stupid, unreadable look on his face. He didn’t say anything, but the awkward silence hung in the air like a thick cloud.

I forced a tight smile, trying not to visibly cringe. “Yeah, well... things have been... busy.”

The elevator doors closed with a quiet thud, sealing me in with them. It was, without a doubt, the longest elevator ride of my life. I could feel Johnny’s eyes on me, that same calculating gaze that used to make me second-guess everything I said. And Carrie? She had that look on her face—the one that said she was definitely going to gossip about this later.

I stared straight ahead, willing the elevator to move faster, trying to breathe through the tension. Every second felt like an eternity, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the elevator as it slowly, agonizingly descended.

My mind raced. Of all the mornings to run into them, this had to be the one where I was dressed in last night’s wrinkled shirt, and my hair looked like it had gone to war with a curling iron. The fact that I’d just come from Daniel’s hotel room made it worse. Much worse.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment over Daniel. It was from pure mortification.

Finally—finally—the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to the lobby. I didn’t waste a second. “Well, this has been… fun,” I said, voice tight, and bolted out of the elevator like my life depended on it.

Behind me, I could feel their eyes still on me, and I could practically hear Carrie’s voice in my head already: Did you see Y/N this morning?

Kill me now.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart dropping into my stomach. Oh no. No, no, no.

This wasn’t just any hotel.

This was Carrie’s hotel. Her family’s pride and joy. The one I had spent countless summer nights in when we were best friends, long before everything fell apart. Out of all the hotels in Austin, Daniel had to be staying at the one owned by Carrie’s family.

I groaned internally, my mind reeling. Of course, this was how my morning would go. The universe just loved to test me, apparently. I could already imagine Carrie’s smug little face, probably telling her family all about how I’d been seen leaving some guy’s room at her family’s hotel, looking like a mess. And Johnny—ugh, Johnny—had been right there to see it all, too. The two of them were probably plotting how to make this even more humiliating for me.

I felt my cheeks burn again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from sheer frustration. Out of all the places Daniel could have stayed, this had to be the one. What were the odds?

I shook my head, trying to compose myself, but the realization only made me want to crawl under a rock even more. Not only did I have the most awkward elevator ride in history with my cheating ex and ex-best friend, but now I was in their territory. This was their turf, and I just walked straight into it with no idea.

This day just keeps getting better and better, I thought bitterly, glancing around to make sure neither of them had followed me out of the elevator.

I glanced back at the lobby, memories flooding back from when Carrie and I used to run around this very place, pretending we were in some grand adventure. Funny how things had changed. So much for avoiding drama.

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yourusername

liked by user1, user2, and 10,289 others

yourusername: t-3 days until my sophomore album "The Cowgirls, Guns, & Horses" comes out, can't wait for everyone to hear it #tcgh

user1: i'm wayyy too excited for #tcgh i just know ts is too good

user2: everyone say amen for y/n for dropping out of uni to bless us with amazing music

user3: yeah it's literally crazy too , like she was going to be an engineer and literally quit her last year...😦😦

user2: it's lowkey sad but AT LEAST WE HAVE MUSICCC YASSS

user4: guys...did we see her on twt last night w a certain someone....

user5: wait no??!?! hello please fill me in on the tea 📖

user4: basically some op saw her in a bar with a shit ton our tourists, turns out one of them was non other than F1 DRIVER DANIEL RICCIARDO

user5: THERES NO WAY???

user6: wait who's that... i'm so out of the loop for pop culture guys... 😭😭🙏🏽

user7: he's this super famous formula one driver (drives fast cars in weird shaped circles) from australia and he LOVES the country

user8: yeah... he wears a cowboy hat so much its kind of goofy

user9: yeah and allegedly, SOMEONE SAW THEM GO SOMEWHERE IN A CAR TOGETHER 😃💃🏻

user10: DAMNNNN @/yourusername.... was the d fire 🔥🚒🧯

user11: @/user10 LMFAO GTFOOO

user12: wait so i know this album is gonna be lowkey sad but like what if she pops up w some suprise songs about daniel's cowboy...

user13: i'm DEAD what if she actually reads the comments

user12: i would simply pass tf away!!

danielricciardo

liked by user1, user2, and 109,110 others

danielricciardo: Save a horse, ride a cowboy #austingp

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I slid into the backseat of my Uber, letting out a long, frustrated sigh as I slumped against the door. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, but I waved off any small talk with a quick, “Rough morning.”

As we pulled away from the hotel, I scoffed, shaking my head at myself. Did I seriously just spend money to Uber to and from a booty call? The thought made me cringe. Out of all the impulsive decisions I’d made in my life, this one was quickly climbing the ranks. I mean, come on—Ubering to a random hotel was bad enough, but having to ride back in shame after? That was a whole new level of poor life choices.

By the time the Uber pulled up to my house, I was already mentally preparing to face the walk of shame into my own home. I quietly slipped inside, trying to be as stealthy as possible, when suddenly—

“Boo!”

I jumped a mile high, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest as my younger sister, Maddie, popped out of nowhere, grinning like a cat who caught a canary.

“Jesus, Maddie!” I whisper-yelled, clutching my chest. “What is wrong with you?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, eyes immediately trailing up and down my disheveled outfit. “Uh, is that the same thing you wore yesterday?” she asked, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk. “Did you... seriously just come back from—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish the sentence, my eyes wide. “Shh! Keep it down!” I hissed. “We are not having this conversation out here.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, but she nodded under my hand, so I let her go. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, sneaking into my room like we were plotting a heist. Once inside, I shut the door behind us and turned to face her, arms crossed.

Maddie sat on the edge of my bed, looking way too pleased with herself. “Spill,” she said, not even bothering with a polite lead-in.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Fine. But you cannot tell anyone.”

She mimed zipping her lips and leaned in, ready for the juicy details.

“So…” I began, pacing the room. “Last night was a complete disaster. I ended up—well, you know—at some guy’s hotel room.”

Maddie’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You? Miss ‘I Don’t Do Hookups’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, flopping down beside her on the bed. “I don’t even know how it happened. We were drinking, flirting… one thing led to another, and next thing I know, I wake up in his bed.”

Maddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. And?”

“And…” I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. “It gets worse. Guess who I ran into on the elevator this morning?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh no, who?”

“Carrie. And Johnny,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

Maddie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No way. You ran into both of them? At the hotel?”

I nodded miserably. “Yup. Turns out the hotel I was in? Carrie’s family’s hotel. Of course.”

She gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, Y/N, that’s… that’s awful but kind of hilarious.”

I shot her a glare, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, hilarious for you maybe. For me? Literal nightmare.”

Maddie giggled, clearly enjoying the chaos of my morning. “So, did they say anything?”

“Not really. Just awkward stares and Carrie’s fake concern. The whole thing was a disaster. I swear, I am never doing this again,” I said, shaking my head.

She grinned, nudging me with her elbow. “Never say never. But hey, at least you’ve got a hell of a story now.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Trust me, I could’ve done without this particular story.”

I stared at the ceiling, still trying to process the absolute train wreck of a morning I’d just experienced, when Maddie’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“So, who’s this mystery guy you hooked up with?” she asked, nudging me again with a smirk.

I bit my lip, hesitating. Should I even say it? It felt surreal—like it wasn’t even real life—but what the hell, I was already in deep. “You’re not gonna believe this,” I muttered, sitting up and bracing myself. “His name’s Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.”

Maddie’s jaw dropped so fast I thought it might hit the floor. “WHAT?!” she practically screamed, her eyes going wide with excitement. “THE Daniel Ricciardo? You slept with Daniel Ricciardo? As in F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo?”

I blinked, confused at her over-the-top reaction. “Uh, yeah? I mean, he said he’s a driver or something, but... I don’t really follow racing, so I didn’t think much of it.”

Maddie grabbed my shoulders, shaking me like I was the one losing my mind. “Y/N, are you serious? How did you not know who that was? He’s super famous! Like, ridiculously famous!”

I blinked, completely taken aback. “Wait, what? Famous famous?”

Maddie rolled her eyes, like I was the most clueless person on the planet. “Yes, famous famous! He’s one of the most popular Formula 1 drivers in the world! You know, the sport where they race the fastest cars? And, uh, hello, the Austin Grand Prix is in like five days! How do you not know this?”

My mouth dropped open as I tried to wrap my brain around what she was saying. “The Austin Grand Prix? You mean that thing that brings in all those tourists every year?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Maddie threw her hands up in the air, looking like she couldn’t believe my ignorance. “F1 is huge, Y/N. There are races all over the world, and Daniel Ricciardo is, like, one of the biggest personalities in the sport. People love him. He’s been racing for years, and he’s known for being super charismatic and... oh my god, you really didn’t know?”

I shook my head, completely floored. “I mean, he did say something about racing, but I didn’t realize it was that kind of racing. I just thought he meant, like, NASCAR or something.”

Maddie smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, you’re killing me. F1 is way bigger than NASCAR! It’s like the most elite motorsport in the world. And Daniel’s been racing for some of the top teams. How did you not realize you were with an actual celebrity?”

I stared at her, my mind reeling. “So, you’re telling me I just… slept with a world-famous driver and didn’t even realize it?”

Maddie nodded emphatically, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Yup! And honestly, I’m a little jealous. I mean, Daniel Ricciardo, Y/N! He’s a big deal! Girls all over the world would kill to be in your position.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed, my hands covering my face. “Oh my god, I cannot believe this. I slept with a celebrity, and I didn’t even know it. What is my life?”

Maddie giggled, clearly having way too much fun with this. She flopped down next to me on the bed, her grin as wide as Texas. “Girl, don’t even stress. You’re a celebrity now too! You and Daniel Ricciardo? That’s some next-level, power couple stuff right there.”

I groaned louder, pressing my palms against my face. “Maddie, stop. I’m not a celebrity. I’m a girl who just had a really, really embarrassing one-night stand.”

She nudged me with her elbow, smirking. “Nah, you’re thinkin’ too small, sis. Just picture it! You’re up on stage with your guitar, singin’ your heart out, and Daniel’s out there in the crowd, front and center, lookin’ all fine and proud of his lil’ cowgirl.”

I rolled over onto my side, staring at her in disbelief. “Maddie, please. You’re daydreamin’ way too hard right now.”

But she wasn’t even listening, lost in her own fantasy. “Y’all could be, like, the ultimate couple. Country singer and an F1 driver? Hell, people would eat that up! He’d be all, ‘This here’s my gal, Y/N,’ and you’d be sittin’ there in the paddock, rockin’ those fancy hats like a boss. Shoot, you two would be in all the magazines!”

I shot her a look. “Maddie, we’re not even dating. It was one night, and I barely knew who he was until five minutes ago.”

She waved her hand, brushing off my concerns like dust off a pair of boots. “Psh, technicalities. I’m just sayin’, y’all could make waves. You’d be the talk of Texas and everywhere else too. Like a regular old-fashioned Bonnie and Clyde, but with less crime and more racin’.”

I laughed despite myself. “Yeah, sure. A cowgirl and a race car driver. That’ll be the day.”

Maddie wiggled her eyebrows. “Hey, you never know! Y’all could be splittin’ your time between the racetrack and the rodeo. And if anyone can pull off being a celebrity couple, it’s my big sis.”

I sat up, shaking my head but unable to keep the smile off my face. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grinned wide, leaning back on her elbows. “I know, but tell me I’m wrong.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Maddie’s wild daydreams weren’t entirely out of reach.

Just as Maddie was about to launch into another wild daydream about me and Daniel conquering the world, there was a sharp knock on my door.

“Y/N? Maddie? What are y’all doin’ in there?” my mom’s voice called out from the hallway.

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh, crap,” I whispered, looking down at my crumpled shirt and yesterday’s jeans. No way could Mom see me like this. Not after last night.

Maddie, ever the quick thinker, jumped up, eyes wide. “You gotta change! Quick, or she’ll know!”

I scrambled off the bed, frantically grabbing the first pair of sweatpants I could find and yanking off my wrinkled jeans. “Uh, we’re just—hold on, Mom! Give us a sec!” I yelled back, pulling on the sweats and trying to find a shirt that didn’t scream ‘walk of shame.’

Mom knocked again, louder this time, sounding more impatient. “What’s takin’ so long? Y’all up to no good in there?”

Maddie shot me a panicked look, then, in true Maddie fashion, she came up with the most absurd lie possible. “Mom, we’re—uh—just checking if Y/N has a wart down there!”

My head snapped up so fast I nearly fell over. “WHAT?”

Maddie’s eyes were wide with mischief as she mouthed, Just go with it!

Mom was silent for a second, and then I heard a heavy sigh. “A wart? Y’all expect me to believe that?”

Maddie waved her arms around frantically, trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You know, like, one of those really weird ones! We didn’t wanna make a fuss about it, so we’re handling it ourselves.”

I threw on a hoodie, pulling it over my head as fast as I could, all while glaring at Maddie. “Are you kidding me?” I whispered through gritted teeth, but she just gave me a thumbs-up.

Mom’s patience was clearly wearing thin. “Well, can’t this wait until later? I need y’all downstairs now.”

Maddie’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape. “Uh, well, it’s kind of urgent, Mom! You don’t just leave a wart alone, right? It could get... worse! Way worse!”

I buried my face in my hands, trying not to burst out laughing at how ridiculous this had become. But Maddie wasn’t letting up, and my mom, bless her, was clearly not buying it.

“Alright, enough. I don’t care if there’s a whole forest of warts down there! Get your butts downstairs in two minutes or I’m coming in!” Mom’s voice was firm now, and I could hear her foot tapping impatiently outside the door.

Maddie shot me a guilty look as I finally finished pulling myself together. “Okay, okay, we’re coming!” I yelled back, exasperated but unable to stop giggling at how absurd this situation had become.

As soon as we heard Mom walk away from the door, I turned to Maddie, shaking my head. “A wart? Really? That’s your best lie?”

Maddie grinned, completely unbothered. “Hey, I had to think fast! Besides, you know Mom was gonna barge in here if we didn’t come up with something good.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear, if I ever have to explain to her that I don’t have warts, you’re taking the blame.”

“Deal,” Maddie said with a grin, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the door. “Now let’s go before she drags us down there herself.”

Maddie and I hurried downstairs, trying our best to look normal — like we hadn’t just staged a ridiculous wart-related lie to keep Mom from barging into my room. As soon as we hit the bottom step, Mom was standing there with her arms crossed, eyeing us with that mom look that said she knew something was up but was choosing to let it slide for now.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Y’all got those warts handled? Need me to call a doctor or somethin’?”

I groaned, rolling my eyes as Maddie snickered beside me. “We’re fine, Mom,” I muttered, trying not to blush all over again. “No doctor necessary.”

Mom chuckled and shook her head. “Alright, then. I need you two to run to the mart for me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a grocery list, handing it over. “Just a few things I need for tonight. Don’t dilly-dally.”

I took the list and scanned it, my mind still racing from the chaos of the morning. Eggs, milk, sugar—normal stuff. But then I spotted cilantro circled three times with a little note that said, “Don’t forget this time!!!”

I sighed, folding the list up and sticking it in my pocket. “Got it, Mom. Anything else? Want us to pick up some wart cream while we’re at it?” I teased, shooting Maddie a glance.

Maddie snorted, and Mom swatted me lightly on the arm. “Just get what’s on the list, smart mouth.”

We headed out the door and into the driveway, where Maddie tossed me the keys to my truck. “Your turn to drive,” she said, hopping into the passenger seat with a grin. “I’m still recovering from your fashion disaster this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” she said, smirking as I started the engine. The truck roared to life, and we pulled out of the driveway, heading toward the mart.

As we cruised down the road, the Texas sun beating down on us, I finally started to relax. The insanity of the morning was starting to fade, and it felt good to just drive, even if it was for groceries.

“Cilantro, huh?” Maddie said, glancing at the list as we pulled into the parking lot of the mart. “You better not forget that, or Mom’s gonna throw a fit.”

I parked the truck and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yeah, I know. We’re on a cilantro mission now.”

We hopped out of the truck, laughing about the morning's chaos as we headed inside. At least now, it was just me, Maddie, and a simple grocery list to tackle.

Maddie and I wandered through the grocery store aisles, chatting about nothing in particular as we grabbed the items on Mom’s list. Everything was going smoothly until I remembered the cilantro.

“Maddie, I can’t forget the cilantro. Mom will kill me if I come back without it.” I scanned the store like I was hunting for buried treasure, and then—out of the corner of my eye—I spotted it. The last bunch of cilantro.

“There!” I practically shouted, pointing across the produce section. Without thinking, I made a mad dash for it, leaving Maddie behind as I zeroed in on my target. Nothing was going to stop me from getting this cilantro—not after what happened last time.

But just as I reached for it, my hand collided with someone else’s.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” a familiar voice said, as our hands both grabbed for the same bunch. “In a rush, are we?”

I looked up and found myself staring directly into Daniel’s mischievous eyes. My heart skipped a beat—of all people.

“You?” I blurted, both annoyed and surprised.

Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow as his hand still held onto the cilantro. “What, you didn’t think you’d see me again?”

I blinked, trying to recover from the sudden collision, both physically and mentally. “I—uh—no, I just didn’t expect to be fighting you over a bunch of cilantro,” I said, still clutching the herb in one hand as he held the other end.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, if you’d been a little slower, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. “Slower? I was practically flying over here. I saw it first.”

“Oh, really?” He tilted his head, that playful smirk of his back in full force. “I’m pretty sure I had my hand on it before you did.”

“Dream on, Ricciardo,” I shot back, trying to yank the cilantro from his grip. “It’s mine.”

He tightened his hold, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Tell you what—we’ll share it.”

“Share?” I raised an eyebrow. “What, you want to split a bunch of cilantro? What are we, in preschool?”

Daniel laughed, pulling it toward him slightly. “I mean, it’s either that or you admit defeat.”

“Admit defeat?” I shot him a glare. “I don’t lose at grocery shopping.”

“Is that so?” His grin widened as he leaned in closer, his face just a little too close for comfort. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re losing.”

My cheeks flushed, and I yanked the cilantro again, this time breaking the bunch in half. “There. Now we’re both losers.”

He burst out laughing, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Fair enough. You really don’t like losing, do you?”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing. “Not when I’m up against people who think they can out-shop me.”

Daniel leaned against the cart, still grinning like he was having the time of his life. “Alright, you win this round, but I’m telling you—next time, I’m taking the whole bunch.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Just then, Maddie appeared behind me, her eyes going wide when she realized who I was standing next to. “Uh, Y/N? What’s going on here?”

I turned to Maddie, holding up my half of the cilantro. “Just winning a fight, that’s all.”

Daniel winked at Maddie before looking back at me. “More like a draw, if we’re being honest.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ricciardo.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows, her grin spreading. “Oh, this is definitely going in my scrapbook.”

Daniel chuckled, still holding his half of the cilantro like it was a prize. Just as I was about to turn away, he slipped something into my hand, so smooth I almost didn’t realize he’d done it.

I blinked, glancing down at the small folded piece of paper. “What’s this?” I asked, unfolding it carefully, my curiosity piqued.

Before I could even figure it out, Maddie was already craning her neck to see. Her eyes widened in excitement the second she caught a glimpse. “Oh my god, Y/N, do you even know what these are?!”

I looked at her, completely confused. “What do you mean?”

She pointed excitedly at the paper in my hands. “Those are paddock passes! For the Austin GP! You’ve got three-day passes to the entire race weekend! Do you even understand how hard these are to get?”

I stared down at the passes, my jaw practically hitting the floor. “Wait, what?”

Daniel smirked, casually leaning against his cart, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Yeah, figured you might want to see what all this F1 fuss is about, and I happened to have an extra pass. So, you know, if you’re not too busy fighting over cilantro.”

I looked up at him, completely floored. “You... got me paddock passes? For three days?”

He shrugged, looking way too casual about the whole thing. “What can I say? I’m glad I grabbed an extra one just in case.” His eyes flickered with that familiar playful glint. “And now, I’m even gladder.”

Maddie, still buzzing with excitement, suddenly stepped forward, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, where are my manners?” She extended her hand. “I’m Maddie, by the way. You know, the better sister.”

Daniel burst into laughter, shaking her hand. “Well, if you’re anything like your sister, I think I’m in for trouble.”

Maddie winked at him. “Trouble’s our middle name. But really, she’s the one you’ve gotta watch out for.”

I shot Maddie a glare, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was still racing. “Maddie, stop.”

Daniel grinned, turning his attention back to me. “I dunno, I kind of like trouble. Keeps things interesting.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “You just like making everything a competition.”

He tilted his head, that infuriatingly charming smirk still on his face. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how far I can push you.”

Maddie laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “Oh, he’s good, Y/N. Better watch out, or you’re gonna find yourself in the middle of a Grand Prix.”

Daniel grinned, leaning in just a little. “Well, with those passes, you might just end up front and center.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at how ridiculous this had all become. “You seriously just carry extra paddock passes around?”

“Only when I think they might come in handy,” he said, eyes glinting. “And I had a feeling you’d appreciate them more than anyone else here.”

I raised an eyebrow, still not entirely sure how this was my life. “You’re something else, you know that?”

He smiled, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Takes one to know one.”

I stared at the paddock passes in my hand, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Daniel Ricciardo—actual Formula 1 driver—had just handed me access to the most exclusive part of the Austin GP like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, Maddie looked like she was about to combust from excitement.

“I mean, front and center at a Grand Prix?” Maddie piped up, clearly having the time of her life with this. “Y/N, do you even understand how cool that is? You’re basically about to be part of the elite crowd. And you didn’t even know who he was two days ago.”

I shot her a look, trying not to blush as I turned back to Daniel. “I feel like I should be saying thanks, but... are you sure? This feels a little...”

“Too good to be true?” Daniel finished with a smirk, crossing his arms. “I get that a lot. But trust me, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. Plus, I didn’t want to go through the weekend wondering if you’d ever stop fighting over cilantro.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re really gonna hang onto that, aren’t you?”

“Only as long as it keeps you on your toes.” He grinned, his gaze holding mine a second longer than necessary. “Besides, now you’ve got no excuse not to come.”

Maddie, never one to miss an opportunity, jumped in with a grin. “Oh, she’ll be there. I’ll make sure of it. You’re looking at the world’s most stubborn person right here, but once she commits, she’s all in.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Is that so?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “I wouldn’t listen to her. She’s just trying to recruit me into her fantasy F1 life.”

Maddie snorted. “Uh, you slept with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got paddock passes. I think that fantasy is turning into reality, sis.”

I groaned, rubbing my face in embarrassment. “Maddie, please.”

Daniel chuckled, glancing between the two of us. “You two are something else. This is probably the most fun I’ve had at a grocery store in... ever.”

I crossed my arms, half smiling despite myself. “Well, I guess we know who to thank for that. You’re really making a habit of surprising me, aren’t you?”

He leaned in just slightly, his grin widening. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Just wait ‘til you see what surprises I’ve got lined up for the weekend.”

Maddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh, mysterious. I like it.”

I shot her a look but couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, fine. You win. I’ll come to the race.”

Daniel winked, clearly satisfied. “Knew you would. See you in the paddock, then.” He tipped his imaginary hat and turned to walk away, but not before flashing one last grin. “Don’t forget to bring your competitive spirit. You’re gonna need it.”

I watched him go, my heart still racing as Maddie practically squealed beside me. “Oh my god, Y/N! This is insane!”

I shook my head, laughing. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe I’m actually going to an F1 race.”

Maddie grinned, nudging me again. “Not just any race. You’re going with Daniel freaking Ricciardo. Girl, this is like something out of a movie.”

I rolled my eyes, but a small part of me couldn’t deny how surreal—and thrilling—it all felt.

After successfully scouring the back of the store and miraculously finding one last bunch of cilantro hidden behind some parsley, Maddie and I made our way to the checkout. I could barely keep my head straight, still reeling from my unexpected run-in with Daniel, while Maddie was practically bouncing with excitement, shooting me side-glances the entire time we loaded up the cart.

Once we were through the checkout and back in the truck, Maddie wasted no time. As soon as I turned the ignition, she turned toward me, eyes wide with anticipation. "Okay, enough stalling. You have to give me details about the one-night stand. I mean, come on. It's Daniel Ricciardo! Spill it!"

I groaned, gripping the steering wheel and backing out of the parking spot. “Maddie, please.”

She crossed her arms, giving me her best "I’m-not-letting-this-go" look. “Oh, no, no. You’re not getting out of this one. I need the full rundown. Like, what happened? How did it happen? How is he? Is he a good—”

“Maddie!” I cut her off, feeling the heat rise to my face. “I am not telling you that.”

She smirked, not even remotely phased by my protests. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like you weren’t just as shocked to wake up next to him. I mean, how does someone like you,” she gestured to me dramatically, “end up in bed with someone like him?”

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are. It wasn’t even planned! We were both tipsy, flirting at the bar... and, well, you know how those things go.”

Maddie practically squealed. “So, was it... like, really good?”

I groaned again, my face probably a bright shade of red by now. “Maddie, I’m not talking about that. Just know that... it was fine, okay? We were both drunk, and it happened. End of story.”

She pouted but kept pushing. “Ugh, fine. But was he sweet? Was he funny in the morning? Or did he just roll over and pretend like nothing happened?”

I snorted, shaking my head as I turned onto the road. “No, actually, he was... really chill about it. We joked around a bit, and he didn’t make it awkward. I mean, we even fought over cilantro in the grocery store, and he’s still as annoyingly charming as ever.”

Maddie let out a dreamy sigh. “Of course, he’s charming. Ugh, I bet that smile of his could get you to do anything. No wonder you ended up in his hotel room.”

I shot her a look. “Can you not make me sound like a complete pushover?”

She giggled, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying! You gotta admit, he’s got some serious game.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, he’s definitely got something. But honestly, I don’t even know what to make of it all. One minute, I’m waking up in his bed, and the next, I’ve got paddock passes for a whole race weekend.”

Maddie leaned back in her seat, eyes wide with curiosity. “Okay, okay, but I have to ask the important question.” She paused for dramatic effect, smirking like she was about to drop the most scandalous question of all time.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What now?”

She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “Is it... big?”

I nearly choked on my own laughter, my face instantly heating up. “Maddie!” I exclaimed, giving her a light shove. “Oh my god, you can’t just ask that!”

She burst out laughing, completely unfazed. “Come on! You hooked up with a famous race car driver! You know I had to ask!”

I covered my face, shaking my head. “This is not happening right now.”

Maddie nudged me again, still giggling. “I’m just sayin’, you can’t drop all these details about Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo and expect me to not be curious! It’s, like, basic sister requirements.”

I sighed, laughing despite the embarrassment. “I’m not telling you that. Besides, some things are meant to be kept private!”

She threw her hands up in surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Fine, fine. But I’m just gonna assume the answer’s yes based on how flustered you are right now.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the grocery bags. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

She beamed at me, completely proud of herself. “It’s part of my charm. Now let’s go inside before Mom gets suspicious.”

We stepped out of the truck, and as we made our way toward the house, Maddie shot me one last teasing glance. “I still can’t believe this. You’re living the dream, sis. Now we just have to get you through the race without tripping over yourself.”

I laughed, shaking my head as we walked inside. “Easier said than done, trust me.”

Maddie winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to keep you grounded. And, you know, ask more questions about... size later.”

I groaned. “Maddie, I swear, if you bring that up again—”

She cut me off with a giggle. “Relax, I’ll save it for after the race. Maybe Daniel will answer it for me.”

I gave her a mock-serious glare as we stepped into the kitchen. “If you ask him anything remotely like that, I’ll personally disown you as my sister.”

Maddie just grinned, completely unfazed by my threat. “Oh, come on! You know you’re curious too. I bet Daniel’s the type to joke right back—he seems like he’s got that smooth banter down.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the grocery bags down on the counter. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not find out in front of you.”

She grabbed a bunch of cilantro, holding it up like it was a victory flag. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave at the race... but no promises if the opportunity presents itself.”

I groaned again, shaking my head. “You will kill me one day, you know?”

Maddie smirked as she placed the cilantro in the fridge, turning to me with a wink. “Hey, if you’re gonna be dating an F1 driver, you better get used to me asking all the embarrassing questions. It’s a sister’s job to keep things interesting.”

I felt my face flush at the mention of “dating” Daniel, quickly brushing it off. “Who said anything about dating? This was just a one-time thing.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “Uh-huh, sure. You just happened to have a ‘one-time thing’ with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got three-day paddock passes? Girl, please.”

I crossed my arms, trying to sound firm. “We’re not dating.”

She gave me a knowing smile. “Maybe not yet, but trust me, once you’re up close and personal at that race, things might change. I mean, the man gave you paddock passes, Y/N. He’s clearly not done with you.”

I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest at her words. “Whatever, Maddie. Let’s just focus on surviving this weekend without you embarrassing me in front of him.”

Maddie grinned, stepping closer and nudging me with her elbow. “I make no promises. But I will say this—you better have fun. It’s not every day you get to hang out with a superstar. Just... remember to breathe when you see him again.”

I laughed, despite the butterflies in my stomach. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me finish putting these groceries away before Mom comes in and asks what’s taking so long.”

Maddie threw me a playful wink as she grabbed the rest of the groceries. “You got it. But I’m definitely asking for more details after the race.”

I groaned, but there was no hiding my smile. As much as Maddie drove me crazy, I couldn’t deny that having her along for this wild ride was exactly what I needed.

Maddie and I stepped into the kitchen, laughing and joking about who could embarrass me more at the race when we both suddenly stopped dead in our tracks.

Sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea like it was the most casual thing in the world, were Carrie and her mother, Savannah.

I froze, my heart sinking to my stomach. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

My mom glanced up, clearly trying to keep the peace with a polite smile, but there was no missing the tension in the air. “Oh, hey girls,” she said, in a tone that was way too casual for the situation. “We’re just having a little afternoon tea.”

Savannah gave us a small wave, her southern charm still as present as ever. “Hi, Y/N. Maddie. It’s been a while.”

Carrie glanced up at me, and for a second, I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. I could tell she was remembering the hotel elevator, just like I was. The awkward tension between us stretched out as thin as it could go.

In my head, a thousand thoughts ran wild. Why are they here? I knew the answer, though. My mom and Savannah had been cordial for years, mostly because they had to be. Both of them were rodeo managers for the same rodeo company, which meant they had to stay civil for the sake of work. The whole town knew their friendship was... well, strained at best. But here they were, playing nice over afternoon tea like it was some kind of forced social obligation.

Maddie, always the one to break awkward silences, cleared her throat. “Uh... hey, Mrs. Summers. Carrie.”

Carrie’s mom, Savannah, smiled politely, her perfect rodeo-queen hair barely moving as she lifted her teacup. “It’s lovely to see you two. Your mother and I were just catching up on the rodeo business.”

Of course you were, I thought bitterly. The rodeo world was so small, and no matter how much I wanted to avoid it—or Carrie—I couldn’t escape it.

My mom, sensing the tension, glanced between us. “Savannah and I were talking about the upcoming event. Looks like it’s going to be a busy season.”

Maddie shifted uncomfortably beside me. “Yeah, busy. Fun.” Her usual energy was suddenly subdued, which I knew was her way of trying to keep things from getting too awkward. Not that it was working.

Carrie, ever the queen of awkward stares, finally spoke, her tone as polite as ever. “It’s... good to see you, Y/N.” She hesitated, glancing at her mother before continuing. “How have you been?”

I forced a smile, trying not to let the awkwardness show on my face. “Great. Just, you know, busy.” Really busy fighting you in elevators and trying to forget you even exist.

Carrie nodded, sipping her tea, and the silence between us stretched even further. I could feel the weight of Savannah’s eyes on me, like she was silently assessing everything—our strained friendship, my disheveled appearance from running errands, everything.

Maddie, never one to let tension linger, piped up again. “Well, we just got back from the mart. You know, had to get that cilantro Mom keeps losing her mind over.”

Savannah smiled tightly. “Ah, yes. Cilantro can be tricky.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the moment, but I managed to hold it in, keeping the strained smile on my face. I just wanted this impromptu tea party from hell to be over with.

The silence in the kitchen stretched on, thick and awkward, like we were all waiting for something to break it but hoping it wouldn’t be us. I could feel Maddie’s discomfort beside me, her usual spark dimmed in the presence of Carrie and her mom. My mind raced with a mix of irritation and embarrassment—of all the days for them to be here, this had to be it.

Carrie set her teacup down gently, the soft clink of porcelain against porcelain filling the room like a final punctuation to the unbearable silence. She gave me a tight-lipped smile, that same fake pleasantness I’d grown used to over the years. “Well, it sounds like you’ve been keeping busy.”

Busy avoiding you, I thought, but instead I just nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

Savannah, ever the poised and perfect woman she was, glanced at my mom and then back at us, her hands wrapped neatly around her teacup. “It’s important to stay productive. Especially with everything going on in the rodeo season. You girls must be a big help around here.”

I bit back the urge to laugh. My mom might be cordial with Savannah for the sake of their professional lives as rodeo managers, but the subtext was loud and clear. They barely tolerated each other, both knowing that competition was part of their work, and now that tension had trickled down to Carrie and me—and Maddie by default.

Maddie, bless her, tried to keep things light. “Oh, we’re great at helping out... with, uh, grocery shopping.” She flashed a smile, holding up the cilantro like it was some grand prize. “Mom’s got us on strict cilantro duty these days.”

Mom shot Maddie a look, clearly not in the mood for her humor right now. “Thank you, Maddie.”

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Maddie’s comment, but kept her voice smooth. “Cilantro can make or break a meal, I suppose.”

Carrie glanced at me again, her eyes flicking up and down, probably still processing our awkward encounter in the hotel elevator. “You know,” she said, her voice too casual, “I think I saw you at the Hilton the other day, Y/N. Were you there for something special?”

My stomach dropped. Of course she’d bring it up.

“Yeah, I... had some errands downtown,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. No way was I going to let her know about Daniel, not with her mother sitting right there.

Maddie, though, being Maddie, had no such reservations about subtlety. “Oh, you know, just casually bumping into Formula 1 drivers. No big deal.”

Carrie’s eyes widened slightly, and I saw her mom’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Formula 1 drivers?” Savannah asked, her tone suddenly more interested than it had been for the entire tea party.

I shot Maddie a seriously? look, but she just grinned like she’d been waiting to drop this bomb the entire time. “Yeah, we ran into Daniel Ricciardo. Real nice guy.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened just slightly, and I could tell she was piecing it all together. She probably knew exactly what had happened in that elevator. “Wow, Daniel Ricciardo,” she said, her voice cool. “That’s... interesting.”

Savannah, ever the picture of elegance, nodded approvingly. “Well, that’s quite a meeting. Formula 1 is certainly prestigious. You must have made quite the impression.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. Yeah, I made an impression, alright. But instead, I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It was... unexpected.”

Carrie’s eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe envy—but her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Unexpected, huh?” she said, her voice a little too casual. “I’m sure it was.”

I could tell she wasn’t buying my attempt to downplay the situation. She knew. She’d probably already started piecing together the story from the elevator and was likely imagining a whole different version of events—one where she could twist it into something more dramatic.

Savannah, on the other hand, smiled that perfectly polished smile she always had, but I could see a glint of interest in her eyes. “Well, you’re certainly moving in impressive circles these days, Y/N. Formula 1 drivers... that’s a step up from the usual rodeo crowd, don’t you think?”

I bit back a smirk. “I guess you could say that.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened a little more, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She had that look on her face—the one that said she was already planning how to bring this up the next time she was with her friends. She’d never admit it, but the idea of me bumping into someone like Daniel Ricciardo clearly irked her.

She straightened up in her seat, brushing a lock of perfectly styled hair behind her ear. “Well, it must’ve been nice to meet someone so... prestigious,” she said, her tone dripping with false politeness. “I’m sure it was a brief encounter.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool. “Yeah, brief.” I decided it was better not to mention the three-day paddock passes in my back pocket. The less ammunition Carrie had, the better.

Savannah, still smiling, added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw him again at some point. Those kinds of connections have a way of resurfacing.”

I nodded, doing my best to seem nonchalant, but I couldn’t help glancing at Carrie, who was staring at me with just a little too much interest.

Carrie leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “So, what did you two talk about? I mean, you don’t exactly strike me as the F1 type.”

I could feel Maddie practically vibrating with excitement beside me, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Carrie was. “Oh, we talked about racing. Rodeo. Life,” I said, keeping my response vague. I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing more.

Carrie raised her eyebrow, sensing I wasn’t going to give her more details, but she couldn’t resist pushing a little further. “Rodeo, huh? That’s cute. I bet he found all of that... fascinating.”

Before I could respond, Maddie jumped in, her voice sweet but sharp. “Actually, he seemed really interested. You know, not everyone can handle a fast-paced life like Y/N’s. Some people are more into... exciting things.”

I shot Maddie a look, barely suppressing my grin as she winked at me.

Carrie’s smile faltered for just a second before she regained her composure. “Well, good for you, Y/N,” she said, her tone cold enough to send a chill through the room. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the race car crowd.”

Carrie’s words hung in the air like a challenge, her eyes flicking over me, searching for any sign of discomfort. But I wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand—not today.

I smiled, my voice steady. “I’m sure I will. After all, fast-paced lives aren’t for everyone.” I kept my tone light, but there was no missing the underlying message.

Carrie’s smile tightened, her fingers twitching slightly as she adjusted the strap of her designer bag. “Well, best of luck keeping up. Those kinds of people tend to leave others in the dust if they can’t handle the speed.”

Maddie, ever the bold one, didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, Y/N can handle anything. Don’t you worry about that.”

Carrie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she forced another smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I could practically hear Maddie holding back a giggle beside me. Carrie’s frustration was almost palpable, and I knew we were getting to her. She was always one to hold her cards close, but right now, the fact that I’d spent time with someone like Daniel Ricciardo—a man from a world far beyond Carrie’s reach—had clearly rattled her.

Savannah, ever the picture of grace, stepped in before things could escalate any further. “Alright, girls. We really must be going.” She placed a hand on Carrie’s shoulder, guiding her toward the door, but not before giving me one last glance. “You’ll have to tell us more about your Formula 1 adventures next time, Y/N.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “We’ll see how the weekend goes.”

Carrie shot me one last look as they turned to leave, her voice almost too casual. “Enjoy the race. Let’s hope it’s as exciting as you’re expecting.”

I held her gaze, giving her the smallest of smirks. “Oh, I’m sure it will be.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Maddie let out the loudest laugh, finally letting go of all the tension that had been bubbling up during that excruciatingly polite exchange.

“Did you see her face?” Maddie said, practically bouncing with glee. “She’s absolutely livid. I can’t believe you kept your cool like that!”

I exhaled, leaning against the counter. “Barely. She almost had me when she started pushing about Daniel.”

Maddie waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, you handled that like a champ. I mean, did you see how she tried to act all nonchalant? She’s probably seething inside.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Well, let’s hope she stews on it for a while. Maybe she’ll back off.”

Maddie laughed, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Or maybe she’ll just get more competitive. Either way, you’re the one with the paddock passes and a date with Daniel Ricciardo.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not a date.”

She gave me a mischievous look. “We’ll see about that.”

As Maddie and I were still laughing about the showdown with Carrie, my mom suddenly cleared her throat from the kitchen doorway. “Oh,” she said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, “so that’s where you were. I was wondering why you came back home looking like you’d been wrestling a tornado. Turns out you were just... banging some famous Formula 1 driver, huh?”

I froze, mid-laugh, and Maddie immediately burst into giggles, almost choking on her soda.

“MOM!” I spluttered, my face burning red. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Oh, honey,” my mom interrupted, waving a hand. “I don’t need the details. I’m just surprised you didn’t even bother to sneak in quietly after all that ‘looking for warts business’” She put heavy air quotes around her later statement, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the embarrassment crawl up my neck. “It wasn’t... like that.”

Maddie, still giggling, jumped in. “Oh, it was exactly like that. Just wait until you hear about the cilantro.”

Mom raised an eyebrow, her smirk not fading. “Cilantro, huh? Sounds like that’s code for something else entirely.”

I groaned. “Mom! I am not having this conversation with you right now.”

She laughed, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, sweetie. But next time, try to sneak in a little less obviously. And maybe let your poor mother know if you plan on... running into celebrities in the future.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Maddie quickly jumped in, still laughing. “Oh, don’t worry, Mom. If she ever brings Daniel Ricciardo home, you’ll be the first to know.”

My mom winked at me. “You better believe it. Just make sure to feed the poor boy—don’t want him leaving hungry after all that... grocery shopping.” She gave me a teasing smile, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort.

I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Maddie leaned over, patting me on the back with a grin. “Welcome to the family, sis. Nothing stays secret here.”

After the chaos with Carrie, my mom’s teasing, and Maddie’s relentless jokes about Daniel, I finally retreated to my room, grateful for some peace and quiet. I had a big task ahead of me, one that had been on my mind for weeks—finalizing my album. The release date was just around the corner, and there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

I sat at my desk, flipping through the notebook that held all my song lyrics. Most of the album was finished, a mix of country ballads, heartbreak anthems, and some upbeat tracks about the wild, unpredictable life of a cowgirl. But something was missing. As I strummed my guitar absentmindedly, my thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the last couple of days—the bar, the unexpected encounter with Daniel, the flirting, the way he made me feel more alive than I’d felt in a long time.

Without even thinking, I started jotting down lyrics. The melody came first, soft and steady, like a heartbeat. The words followed, spilling out onto the page as I replayed that night in my mind. The tequila, the banter, the way he leaned in close with that lazy smile, and how I’d felt—nervous, excited, like I was diving into something new and unexpected.

Before I knew it, I had a full song written about that night. The lyrics were a little cheeky, playful, and flirty, with just enough emotional undertones to make it feel real. It wasn’t like the other songs on my album, but somehow, it fit. It felt right. It felt like something I needed to include.

I sat back, looking at the lyrics on the page, and let out a breath. “Okay,” I whispered to myself, “this might actually work.”

But there was one hurdle left—convincing my manager.

I picked up my phone and called them. It didn’t take long for the line to click, and my manager’s voice came through, warm but business-like as always. “Y/N! We’re almost there. Everything’s looking good for the album release. What’s up?”

I took a deep breath. “Hey, I’ve been thinking... I wrote a new song today. It’s about something that just happened recently, and I feel like it needs to be on the album.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear them flipping through notes. “A new song? Y/N, we’re cutting it pretty close to the release date. Is it finished?”

“Yeah, it’s finished. I can send you a rough cut tonight,” I said, my heart pounding a little faster now. “I know it’s last minute, but this song... it’s important. It’s different from the other tracks, but it feels like the missing piece. I don’t want it on the physical CDs or anything—we can just add it to the online release.”

Another pause, and I held my breath, waiting.

Finally, my manager spoke, their tone thoughtful. “Send it over. I’ll take a listen. If it’s as good as you’re saying, we can make it work for the digital release. But no promises until I hear it.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “Thanks, I’ll send it over in an hour.”

I hung up the phone and got to work, recording a rough version of the song. It wasn’t polished, but the emotion was there, raw and real, just like that night with Daniel. When I listened back, I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over me. This song wasn’t planned, but it felt like it was meant to be there, like it had been waiting for the right moment to come out.

Once the recording was done, I sent it off to my manager and leaned back in my chair, guitar still resting in my lap. The day had started out so wild, but now, here I was, about to add a brand-new track to my album because of an unexpected encounter at a bar with a Formula 1 driver.

It was crazy, sure—but it was my kind of crazy. The kind that made life interesting, that made music worth creating.

As soon as I hit send on the rough cut of the song to my manager, my phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down and, to my surprise, saw Daniel’s name lighting up my screen. My heart skipped a beat—I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so soon, if at all. I swiped the notification open, and his message popped up.

Daniel: 👀 So… did I win the cilantro war or what?

I snorted, shaking my head. Of course he’d bring that up.

Me: you wish... i think we agreed it was a draw, remember?

A few moments passed, and another message popped up.

Daniel: Sure, sure. I’ll let you keep telling yourself that. But really, I let you have it. Gentleman and all. 😏

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I typed back.

Me: oh, you let me win, huh? that’s the story you’re going with??!

Daniel: Obviously. Wouldn’t want to start a feud over herbs. You Texans can be dangerous when you don’t get your cilantro.

I chuckled to myself, feeling the tension from earlier slip away as we fell into easy banter.

Me: you’re totally right. we don’t mess around with cilantro here. it’s practically sacred!! 😭

Daniel: I’m starting to see that. 😅 So, how’s your day been, besides our grocery aisle showdown?

I hesitated for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Should I tell him about the song? About Carrie and the whole awkward tea party? I decided to keep it light for now.

Me: oh, you know... just the usual—running errands, finalizing some stuff for my album release. nothing too exciting, what about you?

His response came quickly.

Daniel: Not as exciting as your day, I’m sure. Just some press stuff and getting ready for the race. Though I guess that means I’m busy dodging questions about why I’m spending so much time in the grocery store lately. 😏

I laughed, imagining him charming his way through whatever interviews he had lined up, somehow making even his grocery shopping sound interesting.

Me: yeah, i’m sure the twitter is DYING to know all about your cilantro preferences.

Daniel: Oh, absolutely. “Ricciardo spotted in aisle five—what does this mean for the upcoming race?” 😆

Me: groundbreaking stuff��😣. we’re really pushing the boundaries here.

His next text came through quickly, and I could almost hear the teasing in his voice.

Daniel: Speaking of groundbreaking... any chance this album’s got a song about a certain Aussie driver in it? 😏

I froze for a second, staring at his message. He had no idea how close he was to the truth.

Me: actually… funny you mention that. i may or may not have written something inspired by a recent bar encounter. 😉

There was a brief pause before his reply, and I imagined him raising an eyebrow on the other end.

Daniel: Oh? Inspired by, huh? Now you’ve got my attention. Do I get to hear this masterpiece before the rest of the world does?

I grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but something told me he’d find it amusing.

Me: maybe... but only if you promise not to make fun of me. i just wrote it today, so it’s still fresh. it's my newborn baby 💗💗💗

Daniel: Promise. I’m intrigued now. What’s it called?

I paused, biting my lip before typing.

Me: i haven’t decided on a title yet, but let’s just say it has a lot to do with flirting, tequila, and someone wearing a cowboy hat...😏

His response came quickly, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Daniel: Well, that narrows it down. Sounds like a banger already. 😎 When do I get to hear it?

I hesitated, unsure if I was really ready to let him listen to something so personal so soon. But then again, the whole point of the song was how unexpected and spontaneous things had been with him.

Me: soon...maybe if you behave yourself at the race. 😏

Daniel: Behave? Me? I’ll do my best, but no promises. 😉

I rolled my eyes, grinning at the screen. He had a way of keeping things light, but there was still something underneath all the teasing that felt... real.

Me: alright alright cowboy, well, you’ll have to wait just like everyone else then. patience is a virtue, right?!

Daniel: Patience is overrated, but for you, I guess I can try. 😎

I laughed, shaking my head. This was getting too fun.

Me: good. now go prepare for your race before you get too distracted.

Daniel: Oh, trust me, I’m already distracted. You’re making it hard to focus on track times, you know that?

I felt a blush creep up my neck at his words, though I tried to brush it off with my usual sarcasm.

Me: well, o wouldn’t want to be responsible for messing up your race. just remember to keep it on track. 😏

His response came with a playful challenge.

Daniel: Challenge accepted. Just don’t be surprised when I win—and not just on the track. 😉

I let out a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

Me: we’ll see about that, Ricciardo.

Daniel: Count on it.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: comment to be added to the taglist! i'll probably update in 1-2 weeks after i get a few more chapters out in my op81 lay all your love on me fic...stay tuned xx <3

[marysdonuts]

Strangers in the Night

tourist!Seokmin x local!reader

Synopsis:

Strangers in the night exchanging glances Wondering in the night What were the chances we'd be sharing love Before the night was through

Warnings: fluff, meet cute, man hater reader, sunshine DK, crack

WC: 683

Status: part 1, (ongoing)

a/n: join my taglist to get notified about new chapters - here

擦肩而过 literally means “to brush shoulders and pass by”. To come into close contact with someone or something, but then barely miss it

You were walking in the historical center of your town, in country where people don't share glances - god forbid smiles.

Vintage sunglasses resting on your nose, shades offering a chance to sneak a peek at people passing by. Ready to judge their fashion choices or roll eyes at couples attached by the hip

Now, It was not unusual to catch men looking at you - dressed to impress, girly but with hint of elegance you looked like a doll. If it was not for your typical RBF you'd have many suitors. Didn't matter how happy or sad you felt, the expression on your face remained unshaken. Even after meeting their curious gaze men never approached you. Maybe because there was always unspoken challenge in your eyes and hint of contempt? None of them had balls big enough to try their luck

And to be honest? You didn't really care. Having unrealistically high standards the only men you were interested in were fictional. Two kingdoms to their name, chambers filled with gold, riding white stallion. The rest? Made you sick to the stomach.

That was the exact reason why he caught you off guard

Crossing the street towards alluring neon lights of Rolex store in neighbourhood you adored the most. Bustling with tourists, nice cars parked by the sidewalk, well maintained buildings offering luxuries of all kind. One eye on store window filled with watches out of your tax bracket, other eye on the cobblestones in front of you.

You almost missed him.

//

Lee Seokmin was strutting in opposite direction enjoying his first vacation in a long time.

Feet infected with happy virus tapping on the stoney ground. Taking in all the history around him. As he held up his camera to snap a photo, like an angel descending from heaven you manifested in middle of the frame. A quick click was all he managed. Your impenetrable aura blinding him. Immediately starstruck.

Click, click, click. The Leica worked overtime.

Didn't know if it was the way your hips swayed in such enchanting rhythm or the beautiful but unimpressed face... There was something that left him peeking in your direction. A glimpse lasting longer than is considered polite. If you noticed the way he was devouring all the parts of your body.. he could hardly excuse it as accidental.

//

Once you saw him looking, glance becoming a stare, making you forget all the Rolex bling. Something in his eyes was so inviting. Something in his smile was so exciting. Holding your breath at how handsome he was.

Like a beam of light entering the bitterly cold cathedral of your heart, Seokmin flashed you the most beautiful 100watt smile.

Ai, mi corazón. You didn't speak Spanish. Kokoro no doki doki. Nor Japanese. But almost folding in half right then and there, hand shooting to the chest trying to prevent cardiac arrest, somehow you managed to keep composure.

Surprised at your uncharacteristical reaction, passing by brushing shoulders, you returned his smile - unsure if he had time to witness it. Caught up in this k-drama interaction you kept moving forward, cheeks red, giggling uncontrollably

Laughing to yourself like a fool for at least thirty minutes, coming to your senses much later - fuck why didn't I stop and said hi? Now is too late to go look for him. It's funny how something small as a smile can have an impact on person.

//

Oh but he did catch that smile. Leaving him with such an adrenaline rush he took off running. You couldn't get him if you tried. Galloping like a race horse at Kentucky Derby, it took about ten kilometres before he finally stopped.

"I got so excited I forgot to even ask for her number..!" He gasped out loud, tearing up at the missed opportunity

Trying to get some kind of comfort in the unfortunate situation, he went over the photos he took of you. Biggest smile forming on his face Seokmin sent silent prayer above.

God, If you are real, let us meet again.

To be continued..

[gothic-thoughts]

A Different Option

FIRST LES FIC 🤩🥳🎉(yes i'm bi)

Mikasa Ackerman x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Cowgirl!Mikasa, Farmgirl!Reader, Meet Ugly

CW: country accent (sry in advance), flirting

Word Count: 1462 (give or take)

"Whoa girl!"

Despite the woman's words, the horse gallops a little closer, stopping just in time in front of making you scream and jump back, dropping your bucket of milk. Your shriek makes the steed whinny loudly and stand on its hind legs, tossing the woman off its back with a loud thud and grunt before running off and attempting to hide behind a tree no less than 30 feet away. You try to calm your racing heart as you walk over the woman as she gets up.

“What... the hell is your problem...!?”

The woman looks up at you, groaning as she grabs her cowboy hat and slowly gets to her feet. Her dark hair falls into her face, and she pushes it away before putting on the hat with a frustrated sigh.

"My problem? You the one who jumped in front of my damn horse!"

“Wha- jumped?! I ain't jump nowhere! You damn near ran me over!”

She rolls her eyes and dusts off her pants. "Ran you over? It's not my fault you weren't payin’ attention to where you were going. You lucky I didn't just trample you under my horse's hooves!"

“And you lucky I don't have you thrown in jail for trespassin'!”

"Trespassing?” She crosses her arms, “Don’t be ridiculous, I was riding through the field, not your property."

“This ‘field’ is my pa's property! You ain't see that big house up there?”

"Oh, please. I wasn't that close to the house. And there wasn't any sign saying the field was private property."

“It's on the fence spokes out front, cowgirl. You woulda seen it if you wasn't just ridin’ through grass and stayed on the damn trail.”

She sneers, pointing a finger. "Don't you sass me, girl. I can ride through wherever I please. Just because you work here doesn't give you the right to order me around."

Using your finger, you push her finger away. “Uh, that's exactly what I can do. Cuz unless ya wanna deal wit my pa and his shotgun, you gon deal wit me.” You flick the front of her cowboy hat, “And I promise you, miss lady, this is me bein' cordial.”

The dark-haired woman's eyes narrow despite the smirk on her face, clearly unaffected by your threat.

"Oh, I like you."

You pauses. “Wha- what, now?”

She chuckles and steps closer to you, her smirk turning into a smug grin. "Ya got some fire in you with a pretty face to go... and that's somethin' I appreciate..."

“Flattery ain't gettin' you nowhere, stranger.”

She laughs, stepping around you to lean against a tree trunk. "Is that right, sweetheart? Well, I guess I'll just have to find another way to win you over."

“Not before an apology. And a way to make it up to me after spillin' all this milk.”

The woman glances at the white puddles soaking into the dirt. “No use cryin’ over it, right?”

“I’m serious.”

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry for almost running you over. And I'll make it up to you, I promise. Name your price."

“Well since ion wanna get into trouble, you're gonna ride into town for me and pick up some milk for me to fill these buckets.”

She smiles and gives you a sarcastic salute. "Yes, ma'am. I'll gallop straight to the store and get you some fresh milk. Anything else I can do for you on my way? Shovel some manure and feed the pigs?"

“No, already did that before you rode all over my property and nearly killed me.”

She sighs and nods, feigning a sincere look. "Right, im sure. My apologies again for ruinin’ your hard work. I'll be sure to ride nicely as I go on my milk-fetchin’ quest."

“You got a name, miss?”

"Why you wanna know? You gonna be thinkin’ ‘bout me while I'm gone?"

“Maybe. Also to make sure you won't just take off, I need the name of the thief to tell my pa.”

The woman laughs, walking closer to you while tipping her hat a little.

"You’re good. My name's Mikasa Ackerman. And I promise, I'll come back with that milk. I'm a woman of my word."

You smirk. “Now that's somethin' I can appreciate~”

Mikasa smiles back, stepping closer until she's mere inches away with her pretty eyes locked onto yours.

"And what's your name, darlin’? If I'm gonna be fetchin’ milk for you, it'd be nice to know who I'm doing it for."

“Name's (Y/n) (L/n).”

Mikasa looks you up and down, her gaze lingering on your body for a moment before returning to your eyes.

"Now that's a pretty name... suits you too. I'll be back with your milk, (Y/n) (L/n). And I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Likewise.”

You tug the brim of her hat down over her eyes playfully to get her to stop eyeing you. Mikasa laughs, grabbing the brim of her hat and tipping it back up to see your face again only to see you were now turned around and picking up the empty milk bucket before walking back towards the cows, hips swaying with every step. Her eyes admire every curve and dip of your figure momentarily before chuckling to herself. She uses two fingers to whistle loudly in the direction of her horse, making the less frightened animal appear within seconds, trotting towards her. With that, she hops onto her saddle and rides off towards town.

Mikasa's been gone about 20 minutes and while she was out, you sat near the cows with the buckets, pretending to be milking them just in case your pa came to check on you. The entire time you were coming up with different excuses as to why you took so long when you heard fast galloping closing in on you. You look to the trail to see Mikasa riding back this way with one hand on the reins and the other holding a basket filled with glass milk bottles. You smile and can't help but feel a wave of relief that she didn't just take off and leave you high and dry. She reins in her horse a few feet away, dismounting and walking to you with the basket.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, sweetheart. Got your milk right here."

“Oh, I'm sweetheart now?” You take the basket, “Thank ya, kindly.”

Mikasa grins and leans against a fence, watching you carry the basket of milk over to the other one.

"What? I can't give pretty girls pretty nicknames? That don't seem right to me, darlin'..."

You sit down with the milk, pouring the bottles into the bucket. “You don't even know if I got a husband.”

"Lucky bastard if you do, but judging by your ringless fingers, I'm gonna guess you don't. Am I right?"

“No, but my pa is strongly suggesting I find one. 'Preferably before he passes on' as he says.”

Mikasa scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Sounds like he's a bit eager. No offense, sugar, but I don't see the rush."

“Neither do I. I enjoy feeding the animals and riding my horse.”

"I'm guessing you love your horse more than you'd ever love some man, huh?"

“Of course, and after the ones I've met? ‘Specially the ones he thought would be good for me?” You shudder with a chuckle, “It'll be while before I find a man good enough.”

Mikasa laughs, pushing herself off the fence and approaching you slowly.

"So you're saying you've yet to find a man you deem worthy of your time and attention? How about a woman...?"

You look up at her, biting your lip in thought. “Hm... S'pose I haven't thought of that...”

"Care to test the waters a bit, then? See if there's any... potential suitors who might meet your standards?"

“Hm... Anyone you could send my way...?”

She grins, her eyes flickering up and down your body as you stand up before meeting your gaze again.

"Well, I might know someone. She's got a few flaws, but she's got a good heart. And she's very, very pretty to boot."

“Really now?”

“Yes ma’am. The prettiest grey eyes you’ll ever see~”

“Hmm, does she have manners?”

"That depends on who you ask. She can be a bit rough around the edges, she doesn't always think before she speaks... But she's always genuine. And she'd treat you like a princess."

“Ooh, I never been treated like a princess.”

"Well, that's just criminal, sugar. Every lady should be treated like royalty. You included~"

“I guess, in turn, I'd have to treat her like one.

"And what if I, I mean, she don't want royalty treatment? Maybe she enjoys being all rough and whatnot..."

“Then you'll get that instead, cowgirl.”

"What, me? No, no, this is for her of course."

You tug the brim of her hat down over her pretty grey eyes playfully.

[thatsdemko]

dicked down in Dallas - d.ricciardo

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings: + not intended for minors + mentions of oral (m receiving)

a/n: 🤠howdy partners let’s yee our haws together!!! also big shoutout to @diorleclerc for reading some of this xx luv u babes

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

She's probably in the Lonestar state

Sucking off ol' what's his name

everything is bigger in texas. whether that be the men, the food, or the cars. everything’s just bigger in the lonestar state.

and you’ve come to realize that, having never crossed the boarder to America until the opportunity to work in formula one, you took the chance having traveled the world twice over now, but texas was new. and boy, it didn’t disappoint to its name.

the cowboy boots and hats were no joke, they were everywhere. from the tiny bars to the gas stations, boots and a cowboy hat seemed to be the perfect attire to conquer the blistering sun.

“what do you reckon I buy one of those?” Daniel jokes pointing to the young boy who’s boots are up to his knees. they were caked in mud and the skin on the toe of the boots seemed to be fading.

“you? in cowboy boots?” you turn to him to see if he’s joking, but his eyes tell you he’s serious.

you’ve always had a little thing for Daniel. he just was so easy and approachable, people loved him and it was obvious why. you just didn’t expect that with more time your heart would grow fonder of his presence.

“why not? I think I’d look sexy.” he shrugs, two of you watch his dad fan himself with the brim of his hat. it seemed to be the texas heat was getting to the fans as well.

you think for a moment, trying to picture him in the boots, but your mind falls short, “I’d like to see it.” you turn back over to him. he just nods running his fingers over his beard.

you watch him for a moment, he’s humming a little country tune to himself he heard from the bars last night, before he struts off with a social media intern ready to take on the stage with Lando.

you’re not sure what you’ve got yourself into, but you know damn well your words got him thinking.

—

you hear the sounds of the horse shoes clicking against the pavement. it’s a bit of a different noise for a formula one circuit, but the laughter and excitement all sound the same. the sound of the horses breathing does make you turn around, and when you do you’re greeted go a big brown horse strut it’s way through the paddock with no one other than Daniel on top.

he’s shaved now, the only thing left is a goatee. he’s sporting a tan colored cowboy hat, a jacket of the American flag, and of course, those cowboy boots.

“you want a ride, baby girl?” he jokes as the horse comes to a halt in front of you. you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this is, but ultimately you give in and join him on the saddle.

“you’re ridiculous, Dan.” you laugh, hands gripping his the belt loops of his bell bottom jeans feeling the horse jerk a stop finally reaching its destination and allowing fans to swarm around and help Daniel off.

“you’re the one saying you wanted to see it, so here I am. your sexy cowboy.” he gestures to the outfit not giving you enough time to clap back before turning to sign autographs and take pictures. he’s crazy, always trying to prove a point, but he was right about one thing.

he was a sexy cowboy.

—

your knock is soft against his drivers door. his voice is barely audible, but you still open the door and see his cowboy hat rested on the bench next to his helmet.

the race wasn’t perfect for him. but there was one thing on your mind the whole time you watched him whip around that track. how sexy he looked in those cowboy boots.

“howdy,” you slid into the room, door closing quietly behind you. you move over to the bench and pick up his tan rimmed hat, placing it on his head, “you do make a sexy cowboy.” you admit watching his head lift upwards, eyebrows knitting together.

“I told you so.” he mutters, his hand reaches for the hat on his head, but you stop adjusting it to sit further down on his head.

you slip beside him on the bench, elbow crashing into his bicep, “I don’t know if you know, but I really like cowboys.” you whisper, his eyes watch you lean against the wall of the room, “it’s a shame I never got my texas wish.” you sigh, arms crossing over your chest.

“what texas wish?” he flips to look at you, eyes full of curiosity as he leans a bit closer to your body. you chuckle at how eager he is to know what it is.

“come on, you know every girl wants to ride a cowboy at some point in their life.”

he shakes his head, swallowing the salvia that’s thickening in his mouth, “no I didn’t know that.”

you shrug pulling the brim of his hat, setting it beside him on the bench, “well I’ll just try again next year.” you’re about to get up when he puts the hat back on, lips crashing against yours. he knows there’s no next year for him, it’s not in the books yet, and he wants no one else to take that from you.

“you can ride me.” he grits between his teeth, your hands hold onto his hat, the brim collided with your forehead, it almost fell off.

“you’ll be my cowboy?” you ask in between breaths watching him fall against the bench, his own fingers work quick to pull down his pants and underwear.

you can feel a smirk fall onto your lips as you kick off your own pants as well situating yourself on top of him, “ride me.” he whines, hands on your hips, he’s guiding you the way he likes it.

it doesn’t take long for you to find the grind he likes, moisture thickening in between your inner thighs. he watches your head tilt back, eyes shut as moans escape your lips. it feels good, everything you’re doing for him, and the little he’s providing for you is getting you off.

he juts his hips upwards so you can feel how hard he is beneath you. you work your way down his body, fingers working his shaft before touching his tip. a moan escapes his lips, you can feel him stiffen under your touch. he feels the wetness of your tongue swirl around, sweet moans of your name escape his mouth.

his hands fly into your hair, you can hear his breathing increase, your name is faint against his lips but it sounds so good.

“you really know how to make a cowboy feel good.” he grunts, cum meeting your mouth.

“it’s not my first rodeo, ricciardo.”

She's gettin' dicked down in Dallas

Railed out in Raleigh

Tag teamed up in Tennessee

Analed in Austin

[usnatarchives]

All Aboard: The Journey of Locomotives in the U.S. 🚂💨💨💨

A train's horn and the rhythmic clatter of wheels on rails are more than just sounds. They are echoes of an era that transformed America. Delving deep into the National Archives Catalog, we unearth treasures that tell the tale of the nation's love affair with locomotives.

The dawn of American rail travel began in the early 19th century. The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, founded in 1827, marked the nation's entry into the world of rail. Locomotives like the Tom Thumb demonstrated the potential of train travel, even if they occasionally lost races to horse-drawn carriages.

By the 1860s, the monumental task of connecting the East to the West was achieved with the First Transcontinental Railroad. This incredible feat, symbolized by the golden spike at Promontory Summit in Utah, stitched the fabric of the nation together, making cross-country travel faster and more accessible than ever before.

The golden age of railroads ushered in luxurious train journeys. Trains like the Pullman Sleeping Cars offered Americans unprecedented comfort, making long-distance travel not just bearable but enjoyable. Meanwhile, iconic stations like New York's Grand Central Terminal and D.C.'s Union Station became symbols of the grandeur and promise of rail travel.

As the nation progressed, so did the role of trains. They were vital in transporting troops during wars, crucial for trade, and a lifeline for communities far from urban centers. However, with the advent of the 20th century and the rise of cars and airplanes, the prominence of train travel waned.

From the smoky beginnings in the 1800s to the streamlined trains of today, locomotives have been an integral part of America's journey, carrying not just people and goods, but dreams and hopes of a constantly evolving nation.

FURTHER READING:

Freedom Train https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2015/07/01/new-web-exhibit-on-the-freedom-train/

RFK Funeral Train

[i-rate-horse-games]

rating horse life for pc

this is the closest thing to a title screen i could find lol

the player character is shorter than the horse, i dont think ive ever had this pov looking up at a horse, it's scary, eyes right next to their teeth, short people are so brave, wow. this is my horse Ramune out at pasture.

she always has her ears back in the pasture and ignores me the first three times i call her but as soon as she comes over she seems happy? like she really hates socializing but is acting like she does to seem cool to her friends? i have no idea

this game is abandonware now and my copy of it seems to be poorly translated from french, so i'm not going to comment on the funny bits of dialogue, but the dialogue lines themselves were incredibly repetitive!

the game goes like this: you take care of your horse (feed, clean stall, sponge, or brush - not all at once though) which feels like it takes forever but might just be three minutes on average. you compete to win gold medals in show jumping, dressage, cross-country, and eventing.

jumping and cross-country both use the same jumping mechanic, where you change your speed between every jump to the one the game wants and then press the space bar when the ground in front of the jump turns green or white. dressage has you click the left and right mouse buttons to the beat of a metronome, except the beat of the sound and the beat of the flashing lights on the screen don't match and if you follow the lights, you're sunk. eventing is just all three events in a row.

whenever you win, the resident Mean Girl accuses you of cheating, and the Stud Farm owner says he’s so proud of you. there’s a morning-evening cycle and after the sun sets, the stud farm owner tells you the day is over and to go get rest and come back tomorrow. this happens instantly and changes nothing.

you get coins from winning, which you can use to purchase unlockable wearable items for your horse and your rider! although i don't think anything can save this outfit.

you can't customize this rider at all, either, and there's only like four horse color options and then a few custom markings.

next you go to Training in the Training arena, and the stud farm owner teaches you the one trick that distinguishes your competition level from the next, and then you compete at the next level. the mean girl is always competing in the same races as you, and she always scores exactly 85, which is honestly more impressive than getting 100, that's so specific. you have a childhood best friend who shows up every now and then to remind you to take care of your horse like you used to, and that you’ve always been such a better rider than her.

then, although i swear it’s not in the tutorial, you eventually realize you can click on the woods north of the map and go on trail rides, which get you involved in cutscenes that tiptoe around the idea of the game having a plot. so far the mean girl has been caught trying to tire out my horse & we got to chase her “to stop her from hurting herself” and then there was no resolution after she was caught. i was so surprised that she would do such a thing that i tried to take a screenshot and got this weird glitch where half of the stable turned invisible, revealing a second secret stable in the distance... so mysterious...

then we were ordered to ride out there and take a picture of the town using the camera function, which you can use at any time when on a trail ride which Is Fun! here's a picture i took of some sheep!

they're so smooth...

after that, a vet came along with a sick horse and made me ride the entire trail with him slower than a gallop, which is frustrating because the entire trail takes like seven whole minutes to complete, so i started watching videos some random kid fight a giant spider in Grounded while doing that. i also got tired of taking care of my horse ramune, but just feeding her boosts her health, and so far there's been no repercussions to just feeding her a lot and doing nothing else.

the game is pretty repetitive, but if I were still a preteen or younger and not yet aware of my surroundings and the world around me, my dreams of someday riding a Real Horse would elevate this game to a new level. you have to use your imagination and get yourself invested in it in order to have fun with it. and for some, that’s what you’re looking for. overall, it sure is a horse game, and it’s not actively bad, it’s just mid.

i'm rating this game 2.5 out of 5 stars!

★★✬☆☆

smooth cows

[fashion4standusers]

jeans by AREA NYC

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle Series

The Game of Kings 

Chapter 10

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement) 

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret? 

Marabelle Series Masterlist 

Main Pairing – Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor 

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F! OC Melanie Smithson 

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language & innuendo. 

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors. 

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement 

Words: 2483 

The Game of Kings – Chapter 10 

Chapter Summary – Liam and Sophie practice for the charity polo match. Leo is on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean where he meets a woman. Speaking with his father, Leo abdicates the throne. Liam sends Sophie a Valentine’s Day gift. 

Music Inspiration: Everything Has Changed, Taylor Swift (feat Ed Sheeren) 

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother. 

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events. 

A/N3: My submission for Choices Flashfics @choicesflashfics, Week #72, prompt 2 - “I wasn’t the one to walk away. You were....” 

A/N4: My submission for Choices Holidays Valentine’s Day Prompts 2024 - Be my valentine/I love you @choicesprompts, @choicesholidays

.......All I know since yesterday 

Is that everything changed....... 

The Cordonian Royal Polo Club 

After adjusting the strap on Marabelle's harness, Sophie accepted the polo mallet from an attendant. She was in her element today; any time spent riding her horse was a joy but spending time with Liam, on top of that ...this was a dream come true. 

When Liam invited her to join his polo team, she was over the moon. To be personally invited to join him was extremely flattering. Her heartbeat raced and butterflies danced inside anytime and every time she thought of him. 

‘Remembering that beautiful Sunday afternoon while working on a paper for class on the terrace of the Beaumont estate, Sophie looked up, pleasantly surprised to see Liam and Maxwell come into view.  

“Good afternoon, Sophie.” Liam smiled warmly as he walked up to her table. “Hard at work as always, I see.” 

“Oh, hello, Liam. Maxwell.” Sophie stood, moving her laptop to the side. 

Liam bent down to kiss her cheek and waited for her to sit back down before he took a seat himself at the glass patio table. 

“Yes, just trying to get this paper finished before the deadline.” 

Maxwell, grinning mischievously, “Ah, the diligent scholar. Little blossom, take a break for a moment. Liam has something he would like to ask you.” 

“Oh?” Sophie smiled, curiously looking at Liam. 

Clearing his throat, a hint of nervousness in his demeanor, “well, I know your love and passion for horses. And as you know, there is a fundraising event planned for flooding relief in Portavira on Valentine’s Day. 

Sophie nods sadly, “Yes, I have heard of that tragedy; It is heartbreaking.” 

Taking a breath, Liam continued. “Indeed...I was wondering if you would consider joining my polo team. Your skills would be invaluable, and I can assure you, we would make quite the formidable duo on the field.” 

Clearly taken aback, but flattered, “Oh, Liam, I ... I don’t know what to say.” 

“Say yes, Soph! It’ll be a fantastic experience, and I can personally vouch for Liam’s team being a lot of fun. ‘Ya know, cuz I am on it.” Maxwell chuckled. 

Sophie smiled, touched by their enthusiasm, “well, how can I refuse such a charming invitation? I'd be honored to join your team, Liam.” 

Liam, grinning widely, “wonderful! I knew I could count on you, Sophie. This event is going to be legendary, mark my words. Thank you, love.”’ 

Practicing today for the Portavira Charity Polo match, Sophie, along with Liam, Drake, Melanie and Maxwell were in the field taking turns with knock-ins. 

She looked over to the sideline and spotted Liam watching her intently. He gave her a small wave and she waved back with a smile.  

"Let's go, girl," Sophie urged her horse. 

Marabelle broke into a gallop, Sophie leaning forward and keeping pace. 

Liam watched as Sophie rode toward the goal, her posture perfect, her movements smooth and confident. 

Sophie raised her mallet and struck the ball, sending it sailing through the air. 

"Nice shot," Liam called out. 

“Yes!” Sophie cried out as she turned back down the field to where Liam was standing. 

"You're a natural out there!"

"Thanks," Sophie replied, blushing. Liam offered his hand as she dismounted Marabelle. "I love riding.” 

"So, are you looking forward to the match tomorrow?" 

"I am," Sophie said. "I'm a little nervous, too. It's my first time playing in front of a crowd." 

"You'll be great," Liam assured her. "And we'll be a great team." 

“Will the entire team meet today?” 

“Yes, you will meet Rashad and Tariq this afternoon.” 

“Are we interrupting?” Drake asked hesitantly as he and Melanie walked over. 

"Hey guys ... of course not," Liam answered. 

"How's practice going?" Melanie asked. 

"Great," Liam and Sophie replied in unison, both grinning, sharing coy smiles. 

"Looks like you've got a winning team, Liam." Melanie grinned, noticing Sophie move closer to his side.

"Thanks," Liam replied, a wide grin on his face. 

“I think so, too,” Liam winked at Sophie, who smiled softly in return. 

“We only have 7 players though. Leo flew out of Cordonia last night.” Drake shot Liam a concerned look, making a mental note of asking Liam about his brother’s absence after practice. 

"We're gonna have so much fun," Drake grinned. 

"You're playing, too?" Sophie asked, surprised. 

"Of course. You didn't think Liam would let me miss the opportunity to beat him, did you?" 

"We'll see about that," Liam smirked. 

"Oh, it's on," Drake replied, a competitive glint in his eyes. 

"Don't worry, we'll kick their asses," Melanie said to Sophie. 

"Yes, we will," Sophie agreed, laughing. 

As Drake and Melanie left to finish their rounds, Liam and Sophie continued practicing. Their easy banter and playfulness made it clear to anyone watching that there was a definite attraction between them.

... And the way Liam looked at her when their eyes met, his gaze filled with admiration and affection...it made Sophie's heart race. 

She could only imagine how good it would feel to be in his arms again, his lips on hers. 

The thought made her blush, and she tried to push it aside, focusing on the game. But the feeling remained, simmering beneath the surface as they walked their horses to the stable. 

"You're incredible," Liam murmured as they left the field. 

"Thank you," Sophie replied, grinning. "You weren't so bad yourself." 

"High praise coming from you," he teased. 

"I mean it," Sophie said, her tone serious. Liam reached over and took her hand in his as the stable hands led the horses to their stalls. 

With a gentle smile, “high praise indeed, Sophie. And I assure you, I mean it. Your talent with Marabelle is unmatched.” 

Their hands remained clasped as they walked to the clubhouse. 

Azamara Cruise Ship, off the Italian coast, Mediterranean Sea 

As the luxury ship cruised through the Mediterranean Sea, the sun was setting in a vibrant display of reds and oranges. 

Leo stood on the deck, admiring the view, lost in thought. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?"  

He turned to see a young woman standing beside him, her blond hair blowing in the breeze. 

"It is," he agreed, turning his attention back to the sunset. 

"I'm Katie, by the way." 

"Leo." 

"Nice to meet you," Katie said, offering her hand. 

"Likewise," Leo replied, shaking her hand. 

"So, Leo, what brings you out here? On a pleasure cruise?" 

"Just needed to get away for a bit." 

"Yeah, me too," Katie replied. 

"It's been a tough week," Leo confided. 

"Really, how so?" Katie asked. 

"I had to make a decision that changed the course of my life." 

"That's heavy," Katie replied. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Not really," Leo admitted. "I'd rather just try to forget about it for a while." 

"Fair enough," Katie replied. "So, tell me, Leo, what do you do for fun?" 

Leo laughed. "Honestly? Not much." 

"Seriously?" Katie challenged.

"Yeah. I have a pretty serious job, and I'm usually focused on that.” 

"Well, that's no good," Katie replied. "You need to have some fun, too.” 

"What do you do for fun, Katie?" 

"Everything!" she exclaimed. "I love exploring new places, trying new things, meeting new people." 

"Sounds exciting.” Leo chuckled, turning his body towards her. 

"It is," she went on. "And it's made me a lot more open-minded and adventurous.” 

"Adventurous, huh?" Leo asked, intrigued by her temerity. 

"Yeah," Katie said, grinning. 

"Well, I could use a little adventure in my life." 

"Then come with me," she said, holding out her hand. 

Leo hesitated for a moment, then took her hand. 

Katie led him down to the pool area, where several people were lounging and enjoying the warm evening air. 

"Come on," she said, tugging him along. 

"Where are we going?" 

"To the hot tub," she replied. 

Leo followed her to the hot tub and watched as she slipped out of her cover-up, revealing a white bikini underneath. 

She stepped into the hot tub and turned to look at him. 

"Well, are you coming?" Her eyebrow raised.

Leo could not resist her invitation. He quickly removed his clothes down to his boxers and joined her in the hot tub. 

"Ahhh, this is nice," he sighed, sinking into the warm water. 

"Isn't it?" Katie agreed, her body glistening in the soft light. 

"So, what do you do for fun, Leo?" 

"I'm a crown prince," Leo said. "So, my life is pretty much dedicated to duty." 

"That doesn't sound very fun," Katie said, frowning. 

"It's not," Leo admitted, noting her non-chalance of his mention of his title. 

"Well, I'm sure we can find something fun for you to do," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

"I'm sure we can," he agreed, his heart beginning to race. 

"How long are you on the cruise for?" Katie asked. 

"The rest of the week," Leo replied. 

"Perfect," Katie said. "We have plenty of time to get into some trouble." 

"Trouble, huh?" 

"Don't worry," she said, laughing. "I won't get you in too much trouble. 

"I'm counting on it," Leo replied, his gaze locked on hers. 

"You are a flirt, Leo." 

"I can't help it," he said, his voice low. This woman was everything that Madeleine wasn't.

"You're very flirtable." 

Katie laughed. "I'm sure that's not a word, but I'll take the compliment." 

"Good," he said, smiling. 

"So, what's your story, Katie?" 

"My story?" 

"Yeah. What brings you out here? On a pleasure cruise?" 

"Same thing as you," Katie replied. 

"An escape..."

Beaumont Estate, Ramsford, Cordonia 

Sophie woke to the sound of knocking on her door. Groggily, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled across the room. She opened the door to see Daniel standing there, a huge grin on his face and a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his hands. 

"Good morning, Squirrel," he chirped. 

"Morning, Dan. What are you doing here so early?" 

"I wanted to bring these to you before you left for the polo match." 

"Wow, they're beautiful," Sophie said, accepting the bouquet. "Thank you." 

"They're not from me, silly. They're from your prince..." 

"Oh," Sophie blushed. 

"Here's the note," Daniel said, handing her a small envelope. 

"Be my Valentine," Sophie read, her heart racing. 

"Aww, that's so sweet," Daniel smiled. "He's really smitten with you." 

"I guess so," Sophie replied, still a bit stunned. 

"So, are you excited about the game today?" 

"Yeah, I am," Sophie said. "I just hope I don't mess up." 

"You'll be fine," Daniel assured her. "I have complete faith in you." 

"Thanks, Dan," Sophie said, giving him a hug. 

"You're welcome, Squirrel." 

Sophie spent the rest of the morning getting ready for the polo match, her heart fluttering every time she lookrd at her roses. She couldn't believe he had sent her such a romantic gift, and she was eager to see him... to thank him personally.

Cordonian Royal Palace 

The morning of the charity polo match, King Constantine was getting dressed when his attendant informed him of an incoming international call.  

“Sir, your son, Leo, is on line one."

Constantine was surprised and concerned, and at once picked up the phone. 

"Son, what's wrong? Where are you?" 

"Father, I had to get away. I had to think." 

"What's there to think about, Leo? Your duty is clear. Your kingdom needs you." 

"But I don't want this," Leo said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted this." 

"Son, I know it's not easy, but we all have to do things we don't want to. It's part of being royalty." 

"... that's the burden we bear." 

"I can't do it," Leo said. "I won't."

"You must," Constantine said, his tone firm. 

"No, I won't. I would rather give up my title than marry Madeleine."

"I'm sorry, son, but you don't have a choice."

"Then I'll abdicate," Leo said, his voice shaking. 

"Leo, where are you now? Are you somewhere safe?" 

"I'm on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean." 

"You are, what?! You are the Crown Prince. You need to return home right away." 

"I won't," Leo replied somberly.

"Leo, listen to me. Your place is here, in Cordonia. You just can’t walk away."

“I have. Liam will be a better King," Leo insisted. 

"Leo! You ...."

“Father," Leo interrupted.

"When have you ever put me or Liam first?” 

“I wasn’t the one to walk away. You were....”, Constantine admonished.

Leo remained quiet, steadfast in his decision.

"Leo, please," Constantine replied, his voice pleading. 

"Goodbye, Father," Leo said, and then he hung up the phone. 

Constantine stood there, stunned. 

.......All I know since yesterday 

Is that everything changed....... 

Thanks for reading

Perma-tags: @ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics @choicesprompts @choicesholidays

[too-many0-0fandoms]

Hello! :)

This is a production of two of my special instrest suddenly getting a common ground in the weird place that is called my mind. So this is;

F1 Drivers as Horse (breeds) (Part 1)

(This is all my own interpretion, please be kind :) It's just for fun)

Max Verstappen

A horse that comes from a troubled background, now with owners that take proper care of him and one of the most successful show jumpers ever :) that’s what I imagine when I think about Max as a horse. And then a KWPN most likely :)

Charles Leclerc

The definition of the ‘different’ horse. Warmblood beauty that everyone in your barn wants with the most unusual coat ever. Comes from one of the best breeders, etc, etc, etc. A lot of warmblood breeds are the same, so pick whatever you like. Likely to compete in eventing, which is dressage, show jumping and cross country because I imagine he looks beautiful but loves hard and tough work.

Lewis Hamilton

Successful racing horse. English Thoroughbred. One of the best racing horses to have ever raced. Close to the likes of Seabiscuit and the others.

Daniel Ricciardo

Our loveable goofball. I know that personality changes per horse, but I just imagine him as a cheery, rescued Brumby horse from the depths of Australia that just loves life and thinks everything is a game but also loves to learn new things.

Nico Hulkenberg

Okay, this is a bit of a stretch~ Butttttt, recently I’ve been seeing some Friesian x Missouri (Fox) Trotter crosses and that’s all I can think about when I think about Nico as a horse :) Definitely a cheeky little bugger that loves to work and play!

Valtteri Bottas

A small, chubby, calm pony/horse with the fullest mane ever that is the fattest in the trotting categories! I imagine a Finnish Horse- Trotter type :)

Logan Sargeant

WTF IS A KILOMETRE> no but seriously, America has a lot of gorgeous breeds and for Logan I imagine an Appaloosa, because they are hard working and honest horses and I just can’t picture him as an quarter :0

Lando Norris

For Lando I imagine this gorgeous, bit smaller yet elegant pony that trots through the arena with pricked ears and a raised tail. Y’know, a bit younger as well, just getting into actual work and just loving it. It just happens that the Welsh Pony – Section B is also from England!

Fernando Alonso

An old hand in the trade. A gorgeous Andalusian/PRE stallion with the longest mane that’s like 17 years old and still competing at top levels with various riders :)

Pierre Gasly & Esteban Ocon

Sorry I had to do these two together because I just had this vivid image of two lovely Norman Cob stallions that are like half-brothers and grew up at the same estate and ended up becoming each other biggest competitors both in competition and in terms of breeding >.<

[swanimagines]

LOSING BUT WINNING | PIN HAWTHORNE

Summary: Imagine falling off a horse while competing and hurting yourself, and Pin helping you.

"And now, our final competitor number seven for our second race today, from Bright Fields stables," the announcer bellowed as you rode to the field and you tried to swallow your nervousness. You were a good rider - the best bet against Pin, as Mia had said it.

Pin. Pin rode for Holloway now and Mia expected everyone at Bright Fields to hate him for that, basically saying you're betraying the team if you don't. You had to beat him. You had to be better than him. Especially after Zoe fell off Raven and was disqualified with the last section of the competition. But at least she hadn't had her crush racing beside her.

You took a shaky breath and squeezed Pixie into a walk. The rest of the competitors were trotting down the track, you in the middle. You had to beat them all. You had to win. If you didn't, you felt like Mia would pretty much kill you as the whole team would have been disqualified and then the stables would likely be bulldozed with all its debts.

Pixie seemed to pick up on your nerves and began to snort and tossing her head.

"You've got this, Pixie," you muttered and patted her neck, trying to calm the horse. You took another deep breath, trying to focus, to remember the training you had done during the past weeks as you settled on your spot beside everyone else.

It would be just a little country race riding. You had done the course dozens of times. You knew how to do this.

You could win this. You could be the star of the Bright Fields team, you would outdo yourself.

"Ready, set, go!" the announcer's voice shouted through the field.

You nudged Pixie and the horse launched into gallop. You kept your eyes on the course, feeling like flying over the obstacles. Trees were just blur at the sides of your eyes and your heart was racing from the adrenaline. Pixie's mane was flying around her head, and the horse's hooves pounded the dirt of the course.

You felt like a hero from some fairytale as you raced there and barely hearing others behind you. You would win this, you would outdo yourself.

The course had you crossing through the forest and came to a small creek. Pixie jumped over the log obstacle, and then jumped the next jump, the one after that, and just when you were guiding her to steer right, she neighed and on the next moment, you were sent flying off the back of the horse.

"Ahh!" You cried out as you landed on the mud pond by the creek.

Pixie fell down and neighed some more, and you tried to get up. Your chest and legs hurt and your face felt wet from the mud. You tried to stand but it hurt. You wanted to get up, to check on Pixie, but you just couldn't. You saw Pixie lying there, trying to get up, but she was in the same shape that you were in - she couldn't get up either and her neighing soon turned into quiet whimpers.

You heard the horses galloping towards you and looked up to see Pin, who immediately stopped Elvis upon seeing you and dismounting him.

"Are you alright?" He asked you, his eyes roaming over you in concern.

You groaned. "No... I think I broke something."

"Here." Pin hooked his arm over your waist. "I'll carry you."

"I can walk..." You tried to get up, but you almost screamed when the pain shot through again.

"Looks like it," he chuckled, lifting you with his arm around your waist.

Other competitors came by you too, looking at Pixie lying on the ground and you in Pin's arms.

"Are they ok?" One of them asked and Pin shook his head.

"Call the medical team, Pixie needs help," he told them and nodded towards you. "I'll take my them back and check on them," he told them and then turned to you. "Come on."

You didn't protest and just let him take you. You were grateful for his help and he seemed to understand you were in pain. He helped you mount Elvis and soon you were riding back double, him sitting behind you, ensuring you wouldn't fall off.

"And we have a winner! It's Pin Hawthorne from-"

The announcer cut off her speech as she saw you slightly slumped forward in front of Pin, covered in mud, looking like you're going to pass out soon, and on the next moment, a medical team was rushing up towards you and helping you down Elvis. You were lowered down on the stretcher and carried away, your mind not really working at that point anymore.

---

You woke up in a hospital, in a private room with Pin sleeping on an armchair beside you. You groaned as your headache came back, and Pin immediately woke up and he blinked at your for a second or two before taking a light hold of your hand.

"Hey, it's alright. You're in the hospital, you had an accident," he said softly, rubbing your fingers with his thumb.

"Where's Pixie?" You asked, your mind immediately going through the worst scenario.

"She's in the stables. She's getting treatment too." Pin explained quickly. "She'll be alright, she's young and strong."

You nodded. "Thanks..."

"They almost didn't let me come here," he muttered. "So I lied about being your boyfriend."

Your cheeks immediately heated up from that, but you smiled at him bashfully. "Oh... that's nice of you."

He smiled slightly at you again, before squeezing your hand slightly. "I'll be here with you for as long as you want. Do you want anything from the cafeteria?"

You shivered slightly at his touch and looked at him. "You'll... you can stay here with me?"

He nodded. "You're one of my best friends, of course I'll stay here with you."

You couldn't help but smile widely again and you were sure your heartbeat gave away your true feelings for the boy. "Thank you. And uh... a hot cocoa would be nice. With marshmallows and whipped cream."

"Of course," he chuckled and left the room, leaving you wanting to squeal at yourself for having Pin staying with you. And maybe it was hopeful thinking, but you were sure you saw a blush tinting his cheeks too when he admitted about lying about being your boyfriend just so he'd get to be with you... which could tell about him returning your feelings. Maybe.

In any case, losing the race and hurting yourself wasn't so bad after all.

---

"What do you mean we can't see them?" Becky frowned at the nurse. The nurse sighed and took off her glasses, meeting Becky's eyes.

"I already told you, it's against the rules, miss," she explained, looking at Becky like she's bored of explaining it. "Only family and partners can meet them, but I'm sure they're fine. They have their boyfriend with them."

Becky let out a whine, missing Jade frowning. "But—"

The nurse held up her hand, her face showing that she's had enough of Becky's whining. "As I said, their boyfriend is with them, and that's enough."

"I don't care if they have a boyfriend with them, I'm not letting you keep us from seeing them!" Becky tried to argue, but then Jade touched her friend's shoulder.

"Becky, since when have they had a boyfriend?" She muttered, and suddenly Becky's eyes showed a realisation too.

"Oh," she mumbled and then turned back to the nurse, who frowned at the two girls. "Um, what's the boyfriend's name?"

The nurse checked something from the computer screen again. "It reads Pin Hawthorne, do you not know him?"

"Wait, he's not—" Becky started but Jade elbowed her. "I— I mean, no. I mean yes! We do know him. He's their boyfriend, yes. We just... didn't know he's here. We're sorry for bothering you."

The nurse raised her eyebrows momentarily but then nodded, putting her glasses back on and continuing to work on the computer.

"They are dating?!" Becky hissed at Jade, who just shook her head.

"They would have told us, they've been in love with Pin since forever. And they were nervous about making the relationship dire when it was revealed they'd be competing together in that race, it can't be that," she explained.

"I guess you're right," Becky mumbled. "I just wish they'd let us see them. But... why would Pin— ohh, he lied about it!"

"So he'd be able to be with them!" Jade giggled, and Becky nodded, basically jumping a little in place.

"He has feelings for them too, I knew it!" she squealed and hugged Jade's arm.

The nurse looked at them for a second before looking at her screen again.

"Hey, is... are they alright? We came here as fast as we could," Zoe asked her friends, Rosie trailing behind her. Becky immediately beamed at them.

"Pin is pretending to be their boyfriend," Jade whispered. "So he'd be able to be with them in the hospital room."

Zoe blinked. "Wait, what?"

Becky nodded, her smile only growing wider. "He's so sweet and brave!"

Zoe beamed now too. "We knew it!" she laughed and glanced up just in time to see Pin coming from the cafeteria with a big mug and a small paper bag.

"Well well, Mr. Duke has found himself a partner, it seems," she teased, and Pin's cheeks grew pink at that. "How are they?"

Pin cleared his throat. "They're fine. They wanted a hot cocoa," he mumbled and then turned his head away, but the girls could see he was grinning.

"Tell them to text us when they can. I mean, if they have time during your honeymoon," Zoe winked.

Pin's cheeks just grew redder at that but he nodded. "I'll let them know."

He disappeared to the hallway, leaving the girls grinning behind, and they all knew that it wouldn't be long before you and Pin would be together for real.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[il-predestinato]

Interview with Charles Leclerc from Sportweek (La Gazetta dello Sport): “I play the piano, I love art, I want to fly. And I dreamed of Ferrari” (published January 7, 2023).

What is fashion for you?

Charles: “A way of expressing oneself without speaking. I realized this when I started travelling all over the world, thanks to F1, visiting countries and cities I didn't know before.

“I realized that dressing well had a different meaning according to different cultures and traditions. That's when fashion really started to interest me, I would say from 2017, even though I've always liked it.”

What was the next step?

Charles: “I started attending fashion shows, then I became a testimonial for Giorgio Armani and then I came more and more into contact with this environment.”

You also take great care over the graphics of your racing helmets. Which design do you like the most?

Charles: “Probably the one used in France (2022), with the reproduction on the two halves of the photographs of my father Hervé and Jules Bianchi.”

Ferrari is red, but for your 488 Pista you chose a different colour.

Charles: “At that time I was using a matte black helmet with the Monégasque flag going from the front to the back. So I decided to order the car exactly the same. I still like it very much.”

What did you think when you saw yourself in a Ferrari suit for the first time?

Charles: “It was a very big emotion, because it was my childhood dream to get into F1 and race for the Prancing Horse, even though at that time I was not yet an official Ferrari driver (only FDA).”

Do you have any good-luck charms you don't part with?

Charles: “I had some as a kid. My grandmother always used to sew a cross inside my overalls, under the sponsors' logos, but that tradition has disappeared since she is no longer here…”

How do you express your creativity?

Charles: “Mainly through music. I play the piano and invent my own pieces. I will never be as good with a pencil at drawing.”

How do you choose the clothes you wear every day?

Charles: “There's a very classic part of me, which seeks simplicity and comfort, and another more creative part that leads me to play around with streetwear.

“I let myself be guided by the mood of the day, by how I feel, because dressing is a way of making something clear with one's image.”

Will we see a clothing line of your own like Hamilton did?

Charles: “I had started the project, but I stopped. Maybe in the future.”

Do you ever talk about fashion with Lewis Hamilton?

Charles: “Sometimes we discuss the brands we like. He really has good taste and a lot of courage to show off the strangest looks when he comes to the circuits.”

Favourite colours or colours you would never wear?

Charles: “These days I prefer grey, beige and white. I'm not a big fan of fuchsia, in the sense that I wouldn't see myself dressed all in fuchsia, but I've worn that too.”

How do you feel about walking the catwalk?

Charles: “I'm not comfortable. Too many stares on me. But I like to watch the show and observe the more unusual garments. I was at the Ferrari Style show in Milan last year and before that at Armani.”

Try describing the feeling of driving an F1 car to someone who does not know racing. Valentino Rossi, when he tested the Ferrari, said: It is faster than I thought.

Charles: “A nice definition, because it is difficult for a normal person to think about the speed of a F1 car. I always make the comparison with the Rollercoaster. It's like being up there, but keeping everything under control.”

Why are you happy racing?

Charles: “For the adrenaline and because on the track I feel free.”

Do you like motorbikes?

Charles: “I have one motorbike, customised, which I bought in Bali when I went there on a trip with my best friends. We rented it on the spot and I wanted to take it with me to Monte Carlo, even though it was a mess to get it registered to ride there.”

Why that particular motorbike?

Charles: “Because of the memories it holds. I had just arrived in F1 and I decided to take all my closest friends on holiday, for the first time outside Europe. We had a great time.”

Do you still think of getting a flying license?

Charles: “I've already had a few lessons, I'm now at 11 to 13 hours of flying, let's say I have the basics. I had to stop, I hope to start again in 2023. There is a lot of theory to study and I obviously like the practice more.”

How was the feeling?

Charles: “Excellent. I like the stall tests, because there's adrenaline, but also checking the plane in general. And to say that I've always been afraid of flying...”

What do you mean?

Charles: “Even though I've taken planes countless times in my life, I wasn't calm. Now, knowing what pilots do and all the options there are in case of unexpected events, has reassured me.”

Even today you are karting like when you were a kid. Would it be nice to discover a new Leclerc?

Charles: “I would like to help talented young people, who don't have the means, to emerge and make their dreams come true. However, it is a project that takes time and which I therefore see as possible only in the future.”

What does it mean to be the hero of so many very young people?

Charles: “Every time I come to Maranello, outside the Ferrari factory there are always kids waiting for me. In recent years, F1 has regained popularity, also thanks to Netflix. It's nice to see a child's eyes light up when we make a photo. A small gesture is enough, which does not cost effort, to give joy to others.”

Do you feel like an example to follow?

Charles: “I try to be myself, behaving well, if this can then serve as an inspiration for those who observe me, I'm happy about it.”

Translation by vetteleclerc.

[centrally-unplanned]

Its fucking 2 AM lets keep ranting about this! Genshin isn’t popular the way people think its popular. It is currently one of the most financially successful games ever:

But it doesn’t make 20 quadspillion dollars by being the game with the highest player count - and certainly not by being the game with the highest player count in Japan. It has a ton of players, don’t get me wrong - looking like 60 million monthly users.

That isn’t that much though! 

All the big games clean its clock - and it looks even less pretty in Japan itself:

Mobile games ranked by installs. Do you even know what that second game is, by the way? 

Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Horse Girl Racing & Breeding game, absolutely more popular than Genshin in Japan on mobile (which most people estimate is how Genshin is played in Japan & China, vs PC in the US). Which I am singling out specifically, because beyond just ‘numbers’ you have metrics like intensity of the fanbase, how much do the devotees talk about the game and such. That sets trends more than numbers do, right? And hey look Comiket in Japan just happened, what do you got for me - lets rank number of doujins sold at comiket in the gatcha-style games category:

Type-Moon: 848 

Uma Musume: 728

Hololive: 620 (Vtuber)

Kancolle: 654

Touhou: 596

iDOLM@STER Starlight Stage: 474

Blue Archive: 446

iDOLM@STER Shiny Colors: 232

Genshin Impact: 230

Nijisanji: 194 (Vtuber)

Touken Ranbu: 192

Project Sekai: 172 (Includes Vocaloid)

Arknights: 123

Azurlane: 120

Girls und Panzer: 118

Fuck yeah Girls und Panzer. But anyway 9th place? Pretty good! Very respectable...and fucking wrecked by the HORSE GIRL BREEDING MOBILE GAME Uma Musume

How about some streaming data! Japan only ofc:

So now here its pretty low, but I will grant that its the best ranking anime-style game. Genshin is popular, for sure. But all this taken in, Genshin just aint that big - its a very popular game, probably the most popular “fantasy fluffy anime game”, but its not like, insanely popular, running the show.

The reason you think its popular is two-fold; one is that its a gatcha game, so it is monitizing its player base way above other large games. Not crazily so btw, the average Genshin player has probably spent $70 dollars on the game, the normal price of a game - but still its competing with other “free” games which always have much bigger player bases, its hitting hard in relation. It is, absolutely, one of the most financially successful games ever. And the second reason is its cross-country popularity - its really rare for a game to be huge in China AND Japan AND America. The fact that its a top game in all three countries is a big feat, and it makes you hear about it, it gives it a playerbase scale from the sheer market size.

But if you are Japanese company Nintendo, making a game that is *not* a gatcha game, for a company that is famously pretty parochial about branding their games for the Japanese market uber alles, that is making a *console* game on a console that famously did not sell well in China...why would Genshin stand out to you? Its just one of the games, competing with a totally different model, on a totally different device, and in totally different markets. It is a trend, but it is not driving trends, it is not the trendsetter - certainly not for a Switch game. Engage would have no reason to try to copy it over other game styles.

TL:DR Fire Emblem Engage is taking inspiration from the horse fucker game and if you can’t prove that wrong I don’t want to hear it.